(Welcome to the first fight of round 2 of Sirens of the LAMBs! Read through the narratives and vote on the winner! And remember to base it on the narratives and not just a bias!)
Warning: This pair of narratives is about as disturbing as you’d think they would rightfully be (or more so). If you have a weak stomach and picture-clear imagination, you might tread with caution.
By Nathan from
Faux Nixon.
Asami, having returned to Japan, and having resumed her life, now with her newly deformed slave, brings her slave harem to three: two men and one woman. She finds out about a new powerful female who is trying to usurp her power: Baby Firefly.
Asami flies first class in her finest clothing, packed like the princess that she is, and flies to the nearest international airport in Texas near the backwoods group of which Baby Firefly is said to be a part.
Asami decides the best introduction would be what she had shipped ahead of her: the mangled, tortured body of Catwoman, shipped via a questionable courier who also deals in illegal organs and other such, unspeakable things. Catwoman has been shipped via freighter and in a coffin with only an intravenous drip to keep her from dehydration and the most extreme versions of starvation, but save for that, she is kept comatose and, as a result, when the hicks open the box it’s a mess of rot, stench, and sloth like something out of David Fincher’s Se7en, if a bit wetter and more… full of texture.
Asami, unseen for the commotion surrounding the opening of the coffin containing the nearly dead Catwoman, arrives via limousine driven by a Yakuza-connected driver who knows to mind his business if he doesn’t want to end up as part of Asami’s collection.
Asami, ever prone to chemical and medicinal attacks, first lobs a dozen vials of an ether-based gaseous tranquilizer around the group, causing them all to fall into various states of unconsciousness. Having succeeded in her most important task, gaining control of her victim, she shackles the unconscious Baby Firefly and puts her into a specially-made box in the trunk of the limousine.
Before leaving, she approaches each member of the family and surgically removes something that is unseen by the camera, packing it all into sterile ice in an organ transport container, which she then also stores in the trunk.
She flies herself and her cargo, now on an IV drip of tranquilizers, back to Japan and returns to her apartment. She lets out her pet slaves and allows them to circle around the unpacked and unconscious body of Baby Firefly and stops the IV drip.
Restrained quite thoroughly, when Baby Firefly awakens, she is unable to move, but is surrounded by two very badly maimed-looking Asian gentleman and one very dangerous looking Asian woman. The woman brings over a box with biohazard symbols on it and opens it.
She then pulls out hands, feet, genitals, eyes, lips and various other little tidbits and explains where she came by them: she cut them off of the bodies of her family members. She forces Baby Firefly to watch her slaves salve their hunger on the disgusting body parts. Baby Firefly is irate, but impotent. For the first time, she is not in control and she fears the worst. She knows this is what her victims must have felt when she was doing to them her horrible things.
When the slaves have had their fill, Asami says: “Normally, I would also make a slave out of you and you would join my harem, but in this case, this is an unacceptable solution. Instead, below your feet there is a wire, razor sharp, stretched tight, that will travel down tracks on either side of you rather like a knife-train and make a very precise, very slow, and very thorough slice through your body-length: from head to toe. With any luck, due to the extreme precision of the blade and machinery, you will remain alive and conscious throughout the procedure, able to feel the pain and know what is happening.”
Asami then flips a switch and the sound of a very well-made and expensive Japanese motor engages. Baby Firefly feels the pain of the knife-wire as it contacts and slices through the soles of her feet and legs. She is bleeding and in pain as the blade moves slowly up her body and when it finally finishes its job, by some miracle, it seems she is still conscious, but in a great deal of pain and in danger of passing out from blood loss.
Asami stands and looks her in the eyes as she says, “And now, I will simply slow your halves apart and give the top half of your body to one of my slaves and the bottom to the other to eat. You will feel an abruptness here as your brain, heart, and nerves, if still connected, are now slid apart, greased by the blood of the wire-knife slices. Good bye.”
———
By Wayward Jam from Reel Whore.
Months ago, Asami Yamazaki decided she would leave her native Japan in search of new love interests. Because she had learned English in school, she opted for the challenge an American man represented. In her communications with a gentleman named Spaulding, she had been offered the luxuries of a rural estate, an oasis for international travelers with delicacies unimaginable. Upon arriving in Texas, she found herself outside “Captain Spaulding’s Museum of Monsters and Madness,” a combination dilapidated gas station, gimmicky roadside attraction and fried-chicken joint! A bearded, balding man wearing clown make-up and a greasy, tattered tee over clown pants greeted her. Eager for some alone time with this disgusting man, she convinced him to take her on a private tour of the museum’s Murder Ride. It was there she had lured him onto a table and paralyzed him with her needles. She was delighting in sawing off his left foot when she heard a shrill voice above the tinny din of the ride. She felt a sharp pain in the back of her head, and now…here she is.
Here is filthy. Here is dark. But where here is, she’s unsure. Asami looks down to discover her pristine white dress and leather apron gone, her body naked. She tries to move but she finds that she has been strapped to a large wooden X. The pounding in her head only worsens as a familiar shrill voice shouts above the rock music blaring from the speakers.
“The China princess is awake!” Baby crosses the room and slaps Asami on the hip, leaving a bright red mark. “What’s your name, darling?” Asami doesn’t answer. Baby slaps her face hard. “What’s your goddamn name!” Asami still doesn’t answer. A wild look enters Baby’s eyes and she storms away. She returns, a rusty hunting knife in hand, the blade glowing orange. Baby caresses Asami’s right thigh, squeezing tightly on two long burn marks. “Looks like someone’s chopsticks got to close to your sushi, hahahahaha!” Already, Asami wishes she could cut Baby’s tongue out to silence her girlish giggle. “I know you speaka Engrish, so fucking answer me, or I’ll give you a matching scar when I fillet that fish!”
Reluctantly she answers, “Asami.”
“There, there Assayme, that didn’t hurt too fucking bad, did it?” Abruptly Baby digs the hot blade into Asami’s other thigh, rolling it back and forth. “That hurts like a mother-fucker, don’t it?” Baby walks away and tosses the knife back in the fire, returning with a fireplace shovel. To the beat of the music, Baby slaps the scalding metal against Asami’s supple stomach. The smell of burning flesh fills the room as Baby swishes her curly locks to her drum rhythm. Asami tries to suppress a scream, but her throbbing skull sends her back into darkness.
Asami awakens to find herself huddled inside a small cage in the middle of a field. She’s been dressed in a rabbit costume that stinks of urine, sweat and blood. The smell is almost overwhelming. Baby stands outside the cage.
“Wakey wakey. Is Assayme ready to come out and play?” Baby prattles on and on about hide and seek, and how much fun this’ll be. Asami ignores her, frantically looking for a weapon that she can wield in her battered condition. She sees nothing of use, but spots a forested area just across the field. If she can just make it into cover she may be able to hide from this deranged woman under the darkness of night.
Baby opens the latch on the shoddy cage. “Run, Rabbit, Run! Hahahaha! Run, Rabbit, Run!” Asami scrambles out of the cage and onto her feet. She can hardly wait to be away from that hideous laugh. Asami takes off. Baby’s chanting and laughing abruptly ends, “Wait! Wait!” Asami doesn’t slow until a gunshot rings through the air. The deafening sound causes her to stumble. She rolls over to find Baby skipping to within feet of her.
“I’m so silly, Assayme. Rabbits don’t run. They hop!” BANG! Asami shrieks as the bullet tears into her shin, splitting the bone.
“Hahahaha! Now hop away little rabbit. Hippity-hoppity! Hippity-hoppity! Baby’s on her way! HAHAHAHAHA!”
Asami tries to stand and collapses in agony. Dragging her leg along, she inches toward the safety of the woods. Baby kicks her hard in the back. Asami crashes to the ground.
Baby pouts. “You hop for shit, ya know that? I thought you’d be more fun.”
Asami slides on her back towards the woods, never taking her eyes off the crazed blonde. Baby quickly straddles her, and drops her knees onto Asami’s chest. Crack. Asami screams in pain.
“Oooh, I did bring one of your toys out to play,” says Baby, producing a long thread of wire. “Now let’s see if I remember how you were using this on my Daddy.” She wraps the wire around Asami’s neck. Asami claws at Baby, but the weight on her chest keeps her from gaining leverage. Asami chokes as the wire tightens around her throat.
“Before you can skin a rabbit, you gotta cut off her fucking head! Hahahaha!” With one end of the wire in each hand, she begins to sway back and forth as she chants some sort of nursery rhyme about bunnies. Asami, gasping for air, feels the bite of her garrote and the warmth of her blood as it spills down her neck and sprays against her jaw. Giggling, Baby saws faster. Asami tries to scream, but the wire has already sliced through her larynx. America turned out to be a little more challenging than expected.
