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A Crave To Kill - Uma's Story
Topic Started: Jul 26 2014, 03:13 PM (266 Views)
Chelsea
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Uma has always been the subject of rumours ever since she moved to Bridgeport four years ago. But nobody has really known the truth... until now. Hidden truths are being unearthed. Prepare yourselves for a tale of abuse, neglect and children's mental wards. Read at your own risk.

(I'll warn you in advance when one of my posts isn't exactly fit for everyone.)

(Ben will appear quite a lot, so don't be alarmed. It's the same for Uma in his story.)
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Chelsea
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Uma - Aged 3

Blood.
Such a fascinating liquid... Ten precious pints of the most precious liquid on earth whirling around your body at any given moment. It can tell so many stories. Once it exits the body, it's purpose is no longer to carry oxygen, but to fit into a puzzle. It becomes a key tool in murder investigations. Pooling, misting, arterial spatter... The same family, but different surnames. It's a very messy liquid that can be cleaned up with hard work... but once it stains, It never really washes out.

And it still remains on dear, sweet Uma to this day.

She sobs as the bloody water pours out of the bathtub as her mother's femoral artery is severed. Alice is trying with all her might to fight off the attacker, but it's no use. The damage has already been done. She squirms and writhes until her strength is spent and she bleeds out, leaving the attacker alone in the room with a wailing Uma. He picks her up and starts to make incisions in her back, but his process is interrupted as the police swarm the house. He drops Uma to the floor and climbs out of the window, leaving her for dead...
Edited by Chelsea, Jul 26 2014, 06:40 PM.
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Chelsea
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Uma - Aged 4

Truth be told, Uma had always wondered about school. She had a thirst for knowledge that would only be satiated by taking a trip to the library but all of the local ones had closed down due to budget cuts and her dad wasn't for driving her all around Simbridge just to read some books, so you can imagine how excited she was when her cousin Ben (aged 6 at the time) agreed to walk her to school. Uma was up and out the door in no time, following Ben into the depths of Simmington Council Estate. The area had always been rough, but crime rates had risen quite a bit ever since Lenny McAlpin set up shop in one of the local houses. He was known as 'The Big Man' by everybody on the estate, mainly due to his influence and the size of his drug rings all around the city. Adults and children alike usually feared walking past 13 Simmington Avenue, but Ben was brave. It was Uma's first day of school and he was determined to go the quick way. He squeezed her hand tightly and continued down the pavement, only to be stopped by a rather large-looking addict.
"Alright, son?" he slurred. "Got a loan of 50p for the bus, wee man?"
"No." Ben says coldly. "Excuse me please. We're trying to get to school."
"Who's the wee lassie?" Another addict asks, joining his friend. "Is she your girlfriend, wee man?"
Ben frowns. "You know what? We'll go the long way."
Ben tries to walk away, but the addict grabs him by his schoolbag. "Answer the question, wee man."
"My name is Ben." he hisses. "And no, she's my cousin."
"Then you won't mind if we take her to the Big Man then?" laughs the second addict, grabbing Uma by the arm. "He's always looking for sluts."
"She's four!" Ben roars, stomping on the addict's foot. "You're not getting to take her!"
He releases Uma from his grasp and the duo hurry around the corner. The addicts chase after them, but the children are too fast. Ben helps Uma over a tall fence and climbs over himself, just in time.
"You'll never take us alive!" Uma laughs, sticking her tongue out at the addicts.
"Darling, we will." one of them laughs. "When you least expect it."
"Not on your life." spits Ben.
"This wee hard man would do well too, don't you think?" the second guy sneers. "See you two shitheads later."
The junkies leave and Ben turns to Uma.
"Promise me you'll never walk by the Big Man's house again." he says seriously.
"Why?" Uma whines. "He's just another man who lives here."
"Uma, promise." Ben repeats.
"Fine." she huffs. "I promise."
"Good." smiles Ben. "School's just around the corner."
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Chelsea
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Uma - Aged 6

Nobody knew what happened in Uma's shed.
It was the only place in the world where she felt safe; in control. It was the only place where she could be herself without the constant fear of being judged. Uma had these cravings. They weren't for chocolate or anything like that, oh no. They were for blood.

Uma had duct taped her latest victim to a painting table in the shed. It was the dead of night, so swiping the silly dog from its kennel was no task at all. Now it was at her mercy, weeping and whining for its miserable life. Uma couldn't help but laugh. She hated dogs. Those stupid, filthy animals were always happy. What could they possibly enjoy about this ugly world? They were obviously deluded. Uma was just putting them out of their misery.

She gripped a large kitchen knife and paced over to the table. The dog was struggling, but it was taped down well. Uma had learned the hard way after her first victim escaped. An evil grin gripped her face as she plunged the knife into the table, narrowly missing the dog's neck. She was teasing it, and she loved the way it whined. She was in total control.
"Not yet." She whispered, stroking the dog. "I want to enjoy myself."
She glided her knife against the dog's leg, making a large incision around 2-3 inches in length. She laughed as it yelped, and what furthered her joy was that everybody was asleep. Nobody could hear the dog's cries for help. They didn't care.
"You're giving me a headache, mutt." Uma spits. "See you in hell."
Uma plunged the knife into the dog's neck, grinning wildly as the light in its beady eyes went out. She had finally killed it. Peace and joy ran through her veins as she cut the dog free and carried its carcass back into the garden. She had already dug a shallow grave, so it was only a matter of dumping the remains in the hole and covering it up. Many of Uma's previous kills had been like this. The first successful attempt was that foul old cat that kept on laying all over her mother's plants. All of the other victims have been dogs. Uma can live with cats. They have a superiority complex that she finds intriguing. Dogs merely await their masters' commands and chase their own tails. In a way, Uma's killing was a favour to the world.
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Chelsea
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(This one's quite dark. Just a word of warning before I start...)

Uma - Aged 12

Uma Allaway has never been right in the head. She's never known why... maybe it was witnessing her mother's murder at three? Maybe it was the abuse she suffered at her grieving father's hands ever since then? A combination of the two, perhaps?

No, it mustn't have been...

Truth be told, Uma's memories are a bit hazy. They have been ever since she started getting electroshock therapy without anesthesia and muscle relaxant. Sister Constance made sure of that. She and Uma have never seen eye-to-eye for the whole two years she's been here...

But what nun would take a shining to a ten-year-old murderer?

Uma shook her head. Sister Constance was a nun, sure... but she was a nun who ran an abusive mental asylum. A children's one at that. What woman of god gives twelve-year-old girls electroshock therapy without anesthesia? Maybe she led a double life as a sadist... or maybe she was just as mad as her patients.

Either way, she was unfit to run this place. She had to go.

Killing a nun wasn't the most noble thing to do, but it seemed like the only option. It had been months since Uma had seen the blood flow and frankly, she was getting tense. People like her can't stop doing what they're made to do. Uma is adamant that she isn't a vicious murderer... She's just a firm believer in population control.

Uma drums her fingernails on the table she's sitting at. The common room was enough to drive anybody insane. 'Maneater' by Hall and Oates plays on repeat. Some of the older kids have actually started bashing their heads against the wall. She's convinced she'll end up like that in a few years too. She has to escape, but she doesn't know this place well enough. What Uma needs is a friend. She's always wanted one, but there was one small problem. How was she going to get one? There weren't very many murderers in the asylum. The only one in the children's ward was Bobby Thomson, but he's being transferred to the adult's ward next week. It wasn't possible to gain his trust, hatch an escape plan and roam free in such a short space of time.

Back to square one.

Who was she kidding? Escaping this place was hopeless. Uma buried her face in her hands. She'd just spend the rest of her miserable life being the doctor's little science experiment.

Ah, the doctor...

Such an evil little man. He took delight in hearing little girls beg for mercy. Unfortunately for Uma, she was his favourite. The things he made her do would destroy most girls her age... but not her. She had developed a tolerance for abuse, but she's unsure how much of this kind she can take. The doctor liked to keep his little girls intact, yes... but that didn't mean he was totally uninterested in their physiques. He made his young victims do things that the other medical examiners wouldn't notice... unspeakable things. Most of his victims killed themselves or deliberately got themselves shot in the many riots that sparked in the Loony Bin.

That's it!

Uma's escape could be masked by the riot! It was risky, sure... but what's life without risks? Oh, the plan was so brilliant. When she escapes, she's going to shut this place down and expose the scummy gits for what they really are.

"Uma, the doctor will see you now." nods one of the nuns, taking her arm. "Come on, sweetie. We don't want to be late."
Truth be told, she wasn't really sure what to do. Protesting would get her another round of electroshock, but going along would mean seeing the doctor again. And everybody knows Thursday is his worst day of the week... Who knows what he'll do to her?

"Yes, Sister Mary." she nods weakly, following the assertive nun down the hallway.

"Why are you so worried?" She asks, feigning kindness. "The doctor is a very nice man."

Uma tried her very best not to laugh. "I'm scared of injections." she lied.

"Do not play games with me, child." She snaps, tightening her grip on Uma's arm. "Or I might just ask the doctor to rough you up a little more than usual."

"Please, Sister Mary..." she chokes.

"Silence." she snarls, throwing me into the doctor's office. "You have one hour."

"Thank you Sister Mary." he grins evilly, locking the door behind him. "Well well well, look what we have here."

"Please doctor... Don't make me do it again." whimpers Uma.

"Come here." He snarls, sitting on the sofa.

Uma nods weakly, standing in front of him. "Sir, I-"

"You are to do as I say." He says darkly.

A small tear rolls down Uma's cheek. "I don't want to woohoo!"

"You're not going to woohoo." He snorts. "Even I have standards."

"What am I going to do then?" She asks worriedly.

"Consider this training for later life." He smirks.
(Fade to black)
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Chelsea
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Uma - Aged 13

Christmas.

It was by far Uma's favourite day of the year. The one time the staff at the Loony Bin didn't beat you unless instructed, the one time family were allowed to visit and on Christmas day thirteen years ago a little ginger demon came into the world. Uma liked the fact that she had a special birthday. Her relatives always brought her a few more presents each year. Sure, it wound the other inmates up... but that was part of what made it good.

Uma was grinning like the maniac she was, skipping down the corridors gleefully as she made her way to the common room. The relatives were here, along with some volunteer from the city dressed as Santa for the younger kids. Of course they were foolish for believing in Santa... but everybody knew what happened to the guy dressed as him. Every year, one of the edgy cunts would take a swing at Santa. And every year it was in the picture. That's why Uma kept them all. When she finally escaped, they'd be reminders that there was always one day she felt like a normal kid again.

She entered the common room and took a seat opposite Ben. He was her only visitor this year, but there was a glint in his eye. He'd brought her something. It was no secret that Ben cared for his younger cousin. His mother and father popped out children like there was no tomorrow, but Uma was the only one who gave him the time of day to voice his opinions, thoughts and feelings... even if she could only do so once a year.

"Merry Christmas, you crazy bitch." the fifteen-year-old boy chuckled, motioning for Uma to sit opposite him. "How was your year?"
"Shit, as always." Uma laughs, flopping into the crumbling old chair. "Who's the newest addition to the family then?"
"A bouncing baby boy." Ben frowns. "His name's Mike."
"Mikey McGill?" Uma snorts. "Sounds like a fucking axe murderer."
"He'd fit in well here then." Ben sneers. "Honestly, why'd they lock you up with the loony tunes?"
"Because I murdered three people when I was ten." She says simply. "Now they electrocute me and scald me in bathtubs and pass it as therapy."
"Why haven't you ended up like her then?" Ben asks, pointing to one of the head-bashers.
"Maria couldn't cope with the bullshit." Uma explains. "It's all about mental strength. If you think they can break you, they can."
"Uma's yearly words of wisdom." Ben laughs, dumping a parcel onto the table. "Happy birthday, Snowflake."
"For me?" Uma grins widely, tugging at the brown paper surrounding her gift. "Can I?"
"Go ahead." Ben nods. "Prepare to be amazified."
"Prepare for me to throw a dictionary at that thick fucking skull of yours." Uma counters, ripping the gift wrap to shreds. "Shit, you got me a cardigan?!"
"Indeed I did." Ben grins.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!" Uma squeaks, pulling her older cousin into a tight hug.
"Can't... breathe... let... go." Ben wheezes.
"Sorry." Uma giggles, releasing him from her grasp. "You even got it in my favourite colour."
"Black isn't a colour." Ben laughs. "But I guess I did."
"Shut the fuck up and let me enjoy my moment." Uma chuckles, pulling her new cardigan over her dull grey moomoo dress all female inmates are required to wear. "I love it, thank you!"
"That's not all." Ben nods, producing another package. This one was smaller than the first, but it was something. "Merry Christmas."
"Two?!" Uma chirps, tearing away the gift paper. "Oh my god... A chocolate orange! I fucking love you!"
"I figured you'd want actual human food." Ben grins. "What're you waiting for? Get stuck in."
Uma finishes the chocolate bar in seconds, grinning like crazy. "Fuck... that was good."
"Was I even allowed to give you that?" Ben laughs, evidently not caring.
"No, but you did." Uma counters. "Fuck the police."
"And this is why you're in with the nutcases and I'm roaming free." Ben retorts. "Oh look, here comes Santa Claus."
"Come on." Uma smiles, tugging on Ben's arm. "We need to get in the picture."
"Nah, I'll sit out." Ben dismisses. "Go on without me."
"Where do you have to be?" Uma smirks. "Paris or Milan?"
"Fuck off." Ben huffs. "Alright... I'll come in the photo."
"Brilliant." Uma smiles, pulling him into the lineup. The cameraman doesn't look at all pleased with his glamourous models either.
"Say cheese." He grunts.
"Cheese!" All of the inmates squeak at the same time.

As the photo is taken, one of the older kids slices Santa's neck open with a shank. To this day, Uma looks at the picture and laughs. All of the other inmates and family members look afraid for their lives, but Ben and Uma are the only ones smiling at the camera like nothing happened. All of the blood and gore didn't bother them.
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