FartmingerFuckwadCheesest
"Oh, no, incoming fart attack!"
- Joined
- Apr 26, 2025
- Messages
- 15,946
The basement had been hand dug. Maybe even over the course of the entire twenty year disappearance. I don’t know. The floor was dirt and there was a tunnel that retreated back far enough that it had to be supported with struts at regular intervals. When my flashlight first illuminated the… stack- I wish they’d been dead. I wish he’d been a serial killer. After I- after I recovered my first thought was ‘Thank God, they are all dead.’
I didn’t know what I was looking at, at first. Hell, I still don’t. It was well, it was a stack. Maybe two feet thick. From the stink and coloring it was obviously made of flesh. I thought maybe he’d hacked them up and stacked them up in pieces. That would have been bad enough. The first thing that alerted me to the truth was the eyeball. On the top of the stack was a perfectly round eyeball in the middle of a socket that had been distorted to the size of a saucer. That’s when I realized what I was looking at was.. He had the entire Driscoll family under those presses for twenty years, keeping them alive on an IV drip, increasing the pressure on them so very slowly that their bodies had time to adapt, until they’d been flatted like… well, like pancakes. He squished them by about a quarter inch every year for twenty years. Then he’d pulled them out when they were too broken and wretched to move, without any chance of recovery and stacked them on top of each other. I’ve got no idea what for. I don’t want to know.
..And I was still thinking “Thank God they’re all dead” when the one on top started gasping again.
Nothing at first. It couldn’t speak without help. I think… it would have been Avery Driscoll. Not that I could tell much about the gender or the age. But the hair was blonde where there was hair. The head was a mess of scars. I think the son of a bitch who did this must have removed parts of their skulls. I’ve got no idea how he got their heads so flat, otherwise. Not as flat as the rest of the bodies but flat. Who the hell knows how their brains handled that. Their lips were punctured by teeth everywhere, after the presses had flattened out their noses, I guess.
There was a machine. A sort of pump. I followed a hose with my flashlight and realized everyone in the stack was hooked up to the pump. I don’t think they could breathe on their own, you see. Not after a while. There simply wasn’t enough volume for their lungs to inflate. There was some sort of opening cut right into each of their chests. There was a switch on the pump. I don’t know why I pressed it. I was in a panic. I wanted to do something. Maybe some stupid part of me thought that it I switched it on they would inflate and be okay.
I didn’t know what to do. He wouldn’t stop screaming. I believe he was convinced I was his torturer. A closer look at his eye revealed that it was mostly a mess of white scar tissue. He was as blind as a bat. You know, I spoke with some burn victims once. They told me that they managed to find meaning and purpose again after a while. I don’t know how anyone in the Driscoll family could have done that.
For twenty years, each member of the Driscoll family had been unaware their fellow inmates were the other members of their family. They’d all been holding out hope their family was okay. All of them dreaming someone out there loved them and was free from suffering.
I didn’t know what I was looking at, at first. Hell, I still don’t. It was well, it was a stack. Maybe two feet thick. From the stink and coloring it was obviously made of flesh. I thought maybe he’d hacked them up and stacked them up in pieces. That would have been bad enough. The first thing that alerted me to the truth was the eyeball. On the top of the stack was a perfectly round eyeball in the middle of a socket that had been distorted to the size of a saucer. That’s when I realized what I was looking at was.. He had the entire Driscoll family under those presses for twenty years, keeping them alive on an IV drip, increasing the pressure on them so very slowly that their bodies had time to adapt, until they’d been flatted like… well, like pancakes. He squished them by about a quarter inch every year for twenty years. Then he’d pulled them out when they were too broken and wretched to move, without any chance of recovery and stacked them on top of each other. I’ve got no idea what for. I don’t want to know.
..And I was still thinking “Thank God they’re all dead” when the one on top started gasping again.
Nothing at first. It couldn’t speak without help. I think… it would have been Avery Driscoll. Not that I could tell much about the gender or the age. But the hair was blonde where there was hair. The head was a mess of scars. I think the son of a bitch who did this must have removed parts of their skulls. I’ve got no idea how he got their heads so flat, otherwise. Not as flat as the rest of the bodies but flat. Who the hell knows how their brains handled that. Their lips were punctured by teeth everywhere, after the presses had flattened out their noses, I guess.
There was a machine. A sort of pump. I followed a hose with my flashlight and realized everyone in the stack was hooked up to the pump. I don’t think they could breathe on their own, you see. Not after a while. There simply wasn’t enough volume for their lungs to inflate. There was some sort of opening cut right into each of their chests. There was a switch on the pump. I don’t know why I pressed it. I was in a panic. I wanted to do something. Maybe some stupid part of me thought that it I switched it on they would inflate and be okay.
I didn’t know what to do. He wouldn’t stop screaming. I believe he was convinced I was his torturer. A closer look at his eye revealed that it was mostly a mess of white scar tissue. He was as blind as a bat. You know, I spoke with some burn victims once. They told me that they managed to find meaning and purpose again after a while. I don’t know how anyone in the Driscoll family could have done that.
For twenty years, each member of the Driscoll family had been unaware their fellow inmates were the other members of their family. They’d all been holding out hope their family was okay. All of them dreaming someone out there loved them and was free from suffering.
