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The Experiment - Casey's Story
Topic Started: Jul 25 2014, 09:46 PM (234 Views)
Alexa
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(I'm probably going to do this in multiple posts, which makes sense)

They say that Psychologists' children are messed up. In this case, they're not wrong. Casey was, in his Father's eyes, an experiment. As sad as it is, facts must be facts, and Casey was an experiment. Almost as a hobby, Charles would play with Casey's mind, twisting it until he snapped, and then he would erase the memories and start again. Charles would beat Casey out of boredom, and punish him for the smallest things. Charles had a dark and twisted vision of the perfect family, and if Casey failed to meet his requirements he would be punished in ways that most parents would not think to ever do to the children.
Casey may be a mess now, but really - can you blame him?

(Let the backstory begin...)
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Alexa
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(This is where Roof Runners come from)

Casey's mother was his whole life. She was the one who loved him, who cared for him.
"Mother?"
"Yes, my dear?"
"Will you tell me a story? A story of the roof runners?"
Michelle Oliver smiled at her son, and laughed. "Of course, my boy."
She began to tell him about them, how they jump and run from roof to roof barefoot, as silent as a shadow on their feet. She told him how they sing their song, too quiet for the common person to hear, and how they whistle like birds to locate each other.
Father must not have liked the story, because he burst into the room, slamming Mother's head into the wall over and over again.
"Filling his head with stories, are you? That's wasting the space in his pathetic brain that he could fill with torture and pain." Father snarled. "I suppose I'll just have to beat and torture you until he that's embedded in his mind when he thinks of stories. How does that sound?"
But the stories stayed with Casey, despite the two-year-old being forced to watch as his father beat his mother over and over again until she passed out. The stories that the little boy's mother told him that day stuck with him forever.

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Alexa
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Jasmine was his first friend. She was merely a girl of two at the time, he five. He knew her mother, of course. Dr Blue worked with his father in the mental hospital as a medical examiner. She had worked all over the place, Buckingsim, Simbridge, Champes Les Sims, Al Simhara and Riverview. Midnight Hollow was her home though, and was where she returned after travelling. He knew little about Dr Blue's daughter, aside from the fact that his father was her godfather and she had a problem with her body that meant she had to be in a wheelchair.

This was after Michelle Oliver's death, of course, so Casey himself was a mental patient. He sat in the waiting room, trembling. He always hated appointments, especially considering his doctor was his own father, and his own father would beat him until he blacked out instead of treating him. A nurse wheeled Jasmine over, next to Casey.
"Hello. Casey." She murmured, half asleep. "I'm Jasmine."
"I'm Casey." Casey grinned, even though he knew she knew. She tried to raise her hand, but her arm gave way and she cried as it fell.
"Mother is busy. Mother isn't here." The little girl whispered.
Casey smiled. He had his mother's smile, that's why his father would beat him for smiling. "I'll look after you. I'm your friend."
His father's voice was cold, though. "Smiling, are we today, boy?" He questioned darkly, like a shadow at the door.
"Sorry Sir." Casey squeaked.
"I shall have to teach you what happens to those who smile too much, I will have to wipe that smile off your face so you forget it." He laughed cruelly. Charles grabbed Casey's ear and dragged him to his office.
Casey was already regretting smiling, but there was one thought he couldn't put out of his mind:
Now he had a friend

Edited by Alexa, Jul 26 2014, 05:15 PM.
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Alexa
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(Casey and Charles' Christmas spirit, everybody...)

That Christmas Eve, Casey was terrified. Jasmine and her family had gone away, leaving him to face his a father alone.
"F-father?" He stuttered.
"What boy? If you don't have a valid reason to disturb my work, I will beat you, understood?"
"Yes Sir. I was wondering if I've been a good boy this year?"
"You've been not awful as usual, why?"
"I wanted Santa to bring me some books this year." The words fell out before he could stop them.
"And if Santa doesn't bring you books, it means you have been a bad boy, and I will beat you. I like that deal."
"Thank you for your generosity and understanding, Sir."
Even as a child, Casey knew to make his Father feel important, otherwise he'd get angry, and angry Father was cruel Father. Christmas morning soon came, and, lucky is lucky, there were books under the tree. Casey was happier than he ever had been, but did not smile. Charles hated it when children smiled.

Casey read the note on his books. It said:

Dear Charles Oliver,
These books are for you to burn in front of Casey on my behalf, as he is a stupid, pathetic wimp who deserves to be beaten until he bleeds.
Sincerely, Santa

Casey could not believe what he was reading. Jasmine had told him that Santa was kind and loving, but the man who had written this was clearly neither! Charles cackled gleefully as he read it aloud, and spent the afternoon beating Casey until the child was black and blue with bruises.

Later in the evening, Charles had an idea.
"Get into your swimming trunks, boy." He ordered. Casey did as he was told, and changed into his swimwear: already cold. Charles tied a dog collar and lead to Casey's neck and dragged the poor child outside tying the lead to a post in the back garden as the snow fell all over them. He shoved Casey to his hands and knees and poured a bucket of freezing cold water over him, beating him afterwards. Charles left Casey outside all night to freeze until the next morning.
"You'll never ask Santa or anyone for anything again, will you my boy?" Charles laughed evilly.
"No Sir." Casey whimpered as his Father dragged the boy who was blue with cold back inside. He sat Casey in front of the fireplace and set it alight, throwing the books into the fire to burn.
"Only smart, good children get presents. You get nothing. You are pathetic, worthless, stupid, idiot child, and you get nothing."

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Alexa
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Casey's first stepmother was a bitch. Sheila was ten years younger than Charles, 21, and hated Casey. She didn't have a job, and stayed at home with him while Charles went to work.
"Come, boy. We're going shopping."
"Will you buy me something?" Casey asked hopefully. Sheila struck the 7-year-old, and laughed.
"Of course not. But you will carry my things. I don't feel like breaking a nail or carrying anything heavy today."
"Yes ma'am." Casey said meekly, following after her. He carried bag after bag of clothes and makeup for her, struggling to keep up with her on his little legs.
They returned home, and Casey's knees gave way, and he dropped everything he was carrying for her. Charles was already home, and Sheila whined.
"Babe! He just ruined everything I bought! Punish him!" She screeched. Charles was quick to react. He struck Casey over and over again, slamming him into the wall. He shoved the child to the ground and kicked him until he was bloody.
"Wash off for dinner, boy, or you'll be beaten again." Charles growled, before kissing Sheila.
Casey raced up the stairs, and started to wash the blood off his face and shirt. Sheila came in seconds later, when he was not nearly finished.
"Come down for dinner." She ordered.
"I need to wash off." He protested.
"CHARLES!" She screamed. He was by her side in a moment, sliding his hands all over her. "The dog won't do what I want!"
Charles tilted his head. "Hold him down, will you my love, while I run him a nice bath." He laughed cruelly. Casey screamed for help as Sheila restrained him, and Charles ran a boiling hot bath. He took the child by his ear and held his head under the scalding hot water for longer than Casey could bear.
"Help!" He shouted under the water, but then he was out of breath. He started to flail his arms but it didn't help, Charles was strong and kept his head under the water. When Charles finally let Casey up, the boy was somewhat purple and gasping for air.
"Get me a bowl, Sheila." The girl did as she was told, and Charles cut a vein on Casey's arm, letting his blood drip into the bowl.
"Listen to me, boy. In school, when you are bad, you write lines. You will now write lines in your own blood." Charles sank a knife through his right hand and through the floorboards, keeping his hand stuck there. "With your left hand, you will write 'I must obey' one hundred times."
"But Father, I can't write with my left hand." Casey croaked.
Charles laughed. "I know. And if your writing is messy, I will cut you again and make you do it again until you can write perfectly with your left hand. Get paper for my son, Sheila."
She did as she was told, and returned with several pieces of paper.
"Sheila and I are going to enjoy our dinner. If you are lucky, I'll let you sleep in your doghouse outside." Charles snarled, taking Sheila's hand and going downstairs to eat.

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Alexa
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Casey was eight when his father performed Jasmine's operation. She could finally walk, and that's when they met Raven, and Charles met Andrea. Andrea was just as cruel as Sheila, if not more. She hated Casey, and had her own son as well, Xander, a boy of sixteen. He was overpowering and violent, just as she was.

Jasmine and Casey met Raven in a field, with Jasmine's mother. They found her passed out among the long grass, and Casey took her to his house. When Andrea got home from work, she found the two of them and laughed cruelly. She beat Casey until he was bloody all over, and simply looked at Raven. She made the little girl undress, studying her, and even let Xander kiss her and touch her all over.
"Stop it." The child whispered, but they didn't. When Charles finally arrived home, Casey was sick of them hurting her.
"Make them stop." He begged.
But Charles just laughed. "How sweet of you." He mocked. "For Xander's birthday you got him a whore. Why make them stop? In fact, maybe Xander will let you watch as he plays with his birthday present."
Xander and Andrea laughed too, but Raven cried. Casey had wished his father would help her, but instead he had ruined her life. Casey waited until everyone fell asleep, and helped Raven get away. He knew the Masters, his Father's new workplace, would find her, but for now she was safe from Xander's horrible temper. But morning came quickly.
"Charles! The dog let Xander's whore escape!" Andrea shrieked. Now Casey was in for it.
"Why don't you come to work with me boy? We're working on a new way to beat our prisoners." Charles laughed.

The Masters building was large and white, and nothing but that. Charles was one of the doctors who specialised in pain and torture, and Casey understood why perfectly. He was told to sit in a chair as one of the other doctors wired him up to a large grey machine. Suddenly a surge of electricity shocked his nerve system, and he howled in pain. The machine kept shocking him, and the doctors watching laughed. They finally untied him from the machine, and Charles insisted that they keep him in one of their more modern cells. The walls were made of some sort of hard glass, so Casey could see everything around him. He gave a double-take and watched in horror as some of the men brought in a girl with long black hair and glowing blue eyes - Raven. She went kicking and screaming, and it took several men to restrain the vampire girl. Casey watched as the head doctor, Charles' boss, studied her. He undressed her, and walked around the girl, simply looking at her. Raven was shivering, her back to Casey, and was obviously terrified of the hard-faced, vile, middle-aged man that stood before her. He must have said something that Casey didn't hear, because after a few minutes four men in lab coats carried the little girl to the Head Doctor's office.

Casey knew it was his fault. One of his only two friends, and it was his fault that they were taking her away. And of course, Xander and Andrea knew just how to rub it in.

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