Wrath James White presents Poisoning Eros I & II by Monica J. O'Rourke

her legs tighter together.
    Gloria tossed it away. “I’ll do what you want,” she
said. “I won’t do that to Angela. I can’t hurt her.”
    “You’d rather kill the baby?” Vlad asked, sounding
suspicious.
    “I’d rather do neither,” Gloria said icily. “But
you’re not leaving me with much of a choice. I know you won’t stop
torturing her. And I can’t watch you do this to her any more. I
won’t.”
    “Do it then. If you fail me again—”
    “I won’t fail you.” She took the knife from him
after standing, and moved to the baby. Crying so hard she could
barely get in enough air.
    She raised the knife over her head with both hands.
The towel fell to the floor, and the air hitting the wound brought
a fresh bout of pain.
    “Do it!” Vlad shrieked. “Do it now! I won’t accept
deception one more time.”
    Gloria tilted back her head, starting at the
ceiling. “God forgive me for what I am about to do … I’m sorry. I’m
so sorry.” She brought her head down again and looked at her
daughter. “Please forgive me for this. I’m too weak.”
    “Mom, please—” Angela stretched out her arm, but
Vlad wouldn’t let her move from where she was standing.
    Gloria brought the knife down, hard. Blood sprayed
from the wound, covering the table, the baby, her. She slumped
forward, her head resting against the baby’s chest, and dug the
knife in deeper.
    “No!” Vlad screamed, rushing toward Gloria.
    “Mom!” Angela cried, grabbing Vlad’s arm, trying to
keep him away from her mother.
    Gloria collapsed, leaning against the table leg to
keep her upright.
    The knife still protruded from her stomach.
    Vlad slapped her hard across the face, and she
tumbled onto her side. He kicked her in the ribs, kicked her again.
“Bitch!” He started pacing, muttering unintelligible words,
throwing his hands up in the air.
    Angela slid across the floor until she was beside
Gloria. She took her mother’s hand and pressed it against her
cheek. “I’m sorry, Mom.” She looked up at Vlad, at Ryan. “Did I do
okay?”
    “You were wonderful, sweetheart,” Ryan said.
    “What?” Gloria strained to ask.
    “Same deal as before,” Vlad said. “Only we didn’t
think you’d actually kill the kid, so we came up with an
alternative to the original plan. Suicide works as well as murder,
Gloria. If it’s any consolation, you really did save Angela from
hell. But at this rate …” He chucked Angela’s chin. “She’ll be
spending lots of time with you. It’ll be quite a family
reunion.”
    “Go to hell …” Gloria said.
    “After you, my dear.”
    Angela retrieved the grotesque dildo from the floor
and handed it to Ryan. “You promised we could try this out.”
    Ryan wrapped his arm around her shoulders and led
her from the room.
    Gloria felt her heartbeat slowing, had given up
trying to cease the flow of blood from her wounds. The chilly room
suddenly became a comfortable warmth, like a favorite blanket.
    Gloria closed her eyes and her face settled into an
expression of serenity and peace … even as her immortal soul began
to scream.

Part II
     
    Nothing begins and nothing ends
that is not paid in moan; for we are born in others’ pain, and
perish in our own.
    Francis Thompson, “Daisy”
    Today is bad, and day by day it
will get worse—until at last the worst of all arrives.
    Arthur Schopenhauer, On the Suffering of the
World
     
    Gloria’s knees shook. The pain in her thighs wound
tighter and tighter, cramping, burning with lactic acid, melding
with the pain in her lower back, her neck, shoulders, and calves
into an absolute agony that washed away all other conscious
thought. Her world was only pain and confusion.
    She knew where she was. The agonized screams that
echoed endlessly from all directions and her own ceaseless torment
told her all she needed to know about her surroundings. Even though
she could not see, Gloria knew she was in hell.
    She was imprisoned in some sort of cage. A small
iron