Psycho #9 – Horsepower
© S.B. “LullaDIEs”
A Tale of Narcissism:
Traits of a Narcissist include a lack of remorse, guilt, or empathy for others. They don’t accept responsibility for their own actions. A pathological liar. They are cunning, manipulative, and superficially charming. Has a grandiose sense of self-worth.
How dare that pathetic little stable boy! I thought during my morning visit to the horse coral, My horses are prized animals and deserve the best possible treatment, not some half-ass brushing. Look at her hoofs! The little brat didn’t even clean out the mares shoes!
My rage consumed me. The blatant disregard of my orders was completely unacceptable. The more I thought about the disrespect reflected in the boy’s disobedience the more I knew he needed to be punished and made an example of. My servants could not be allowed to slack off. It became clear to me that they needed to be reminded; laziness had consequences.
I took my two strongest horses out of their stables and into the stone courtyard where I proceeded to saddle them. They were patient creatures and stood obediently while I prepared them for the task ahead. I brought four separate lengths of thick, braided rope with me and attached two to the horn of each animals saddle. Soon the stable boy would show himself, I only needed to wait.
Just as I suspected, he came sauntering out of the servants quarters only moments later, rubbing his protruding belly as if he were full.
Incompetent fool! I thought, You always feed the beasts before you get your meal.
Those are the rules!
“BOY! Here. Now.” I called out in a firm, controlling way.
The boy did as he was told, coming to stand directly in front of me. The courtyard was round and made of smooth grey rock, with greenery all around. The estate was large and housed many servants, some of which had paused to observe what was transpiring between me and the stable boy.
I stared down at the him with venous eyes. He was no more than fourteen years old; tall and scrawny. He didn’t look up at me but remained focused on his feet, as if they were more important than what I had to say. I could feel my fury rising at his insolence.
“Boy…” I started, but when he looked up at my words my temper was lost and I back handed him.
He was lifted off his feet by the blow, his body twisted in the air and landed roughly on the hard ground. He curled himself up into the fetal position, unmoving. His cowardice was the last straw.
I picked the boy up by the back of his neck with one mighty hand, and plopped him between the two horses. As I tied the ropes to his arms and legs, I explained to him why he was being punished.
“You know you did not brush the horses today. You didn’t clean their shoes either. They were not fed, although you seem to have had your fill. Then, after your acts of sheer laziness you did not look me in the eyes when addressed. Finally,” I finished with the ropes and stood up, “You’re a bloody coward.”
I turned around to see that many of the servants had assembled, forming a circle in the grass around us, although none ever set foot on the stone. They knew better than to interfere and I doubted any of them wished to test my wrath, especially at a time like this.
“This boy has neglected his duties, defied my rules, and shown me disrespect. He will be punished accordingly, and you are all required to witness and remember.” as I addressed the growing crowd, I took notice of the dread within their eyes.
They knew what was to come. The punishment for such actions was to be drawn and quartered; the same punishment dealt to traitors of the old world.
I turned to the horses and grabbed a nearby whip. I gave it one good snap into the air, causing the beasts to walk in opposite directions, lifting the boy off the ground as they did. Once the horses could walk no further they simply stopped, awaiting new commands from their handler.
I took this moment to study the fear swimming in the suspended boy’s eyes. Terror radiated from his entire being, but his eyes held such a deep, primal panic to them that it even caused me to pause, but only for a moment. He had, after all, earned this fate.
I nodded my head towards my most trusted servants and they stepped forward, took the horses reins, and started leading the animals further apart. That’s when the woman began shrieking.
“No!” she screamed.
I turned to see who’d spoken out against me. A few of the other servants were holding the woman back, refusing her permission to run towards the boy. I recognized her immediately as his mother, and as a servant who’d been loyal to the estate for many decades. She was always one of my favorites, as well as my secret lover in the distant past. My heart softened at the sight of her distress.
“Please! Master please! Not my son, anything else! Not him!” she frantically begged.
“I’m sorry dear, but your son has had many violations today and it’s not even noon. His punishment suites his crimes. You cannot stop it.” I spoke softly, trying to sooth her.
I was not a cruel master. My servants each had separate rooms, and the families were given separate apartments. They were all well fed, clothed, and received anything else they required to live happily. All I asked for in return was obedience. Follow the rules.
The woman continued begging for he sons life, but I turned away and ignored her.
The horses began grunting as their task became more difficult. There were many audible cracks coming from the boys body while his joints were being pulled out of their sockets. He screamed out in agony, which was matched only by his mothers cries for mercy.
Still the horses pulled, swaying from side to side as the animals tried to find more leverage. The boys skin began tearing as well as the muscles and tendons underneath. The sound was not unlike that of shredding thick layers of fabric. It didn’t take long for his blood to begin seeping through the clothing he wore, dyeing the tan cloth a deep crimson red before droplets started falling to the stone below. The boys screams turned into sobs, growing quieter as the animals pulled him further apart.
I snapped the whip again, causing the horses to rear and pull harder. Suddenly, the limbs gave way and blood splattered from the once suspended boy. The red mist covered everything within the stone courtyard and I could feel its sticky warmth spotting my face as well. His limbless torso hit the stone ground with a deafening thump. Finally, the boy was silent.
The woman yelled, “No!” at the scene even though it was too late. Her son’s body laid on the ground, thick blood pouring out of the wounds, staining the stone below red. The world stood silent in that moment, all except the mothers sobs and the occasional grunt from the horses.
Then I heard it. It was faint, and I would have missed the words all together if it weren’t for the quiet surrounding us.
“I’m s-sorry master.” the boy gasped, using his last breath to apologize. He sounded so weak in his final moments; it was sickening to me.
The mother broke away from the others who restrained her and rushed forward. Dropping to her knees, she cradled her now dead son.
“Why?!” she pleaded with an edge of anger, “He was your son! How could you?”
Fourteen years ago, I’d gone to visit my favorite servant in the quiet of her room. I agreed to allow her to birth the child, so long as she told no one as to who the father was. I never saw the lazy whelp as mine though, he held none of my traits.
“He was never my son.” I whispered to the mournful woman.
“Clean this mess up,” I directed to the other servants who’d gathered around, “And someone brush my horses!”