Disclaimer: This work contains adult material including sexually explicit activities, graphic violence, strong language, sexual violence against children, incest, cannibalism, mind control, forced transformation, unwarranted malice, and more. This work is not suitable for minors. Reader discretion is advised.
Psycho Shatter 1985: Black Vice Re;Birth
Phase 01: Re;Birth
Murinova. An insignificant little road stop located in the middle of nowhere and with a population barely skirting past three-thousand people. A place devoid of any remarkable history, backgrounds, or any traits of note. It was a mere footnote even within its own region, occupied by people who made their livings in more populated and better towns a couple miles away, with the only thing keeping them here being a sense of obligation, or a preference towards a quiet, drab, uneventful existence.
Apart from the cluster of society that made up the core of this town, a lone building stood within the deep forestry that ran throughout this town’s borders, leading from a tire-trodden dirt road to a home considerably more impressive than the mass produced dwellings that it neighbored. It is within this settlement that this tale of depravity, debauchery, deviancy, and destruction begins, and with the individual standing in the middle of this home’s den.
A woman by the name of Jessie Shines, age 22, was in the midst of performing an aerobic exercise routine, an act that, combined with the sweltering heat of the mid-August weather, had left her panting in exhaustion and her body damp with sweat that soaked her light tank top and shorts. Having done enough to hone her limber yet muscular physique for the day, she shut off the small portable radio that regaled her with some entertainment as she commenced her health-related chore. With silence reestablished, she made her way to the kitchen where she grabbed and dampened a towel to relieve her of the excess sweat, and cool herself off with the coldest water the faucet could produce. She let out a soft sigh of relief after doing so, allowing the tap water to air dry off her deep brown skin in an attempt to help alleviate the warmth that coursed through her being.
After releasing her curly shoulder-length hair from the band she tied it with, Jessie’s attention drifted to the electronic clock on the kitchen oven, which read 4:56 PM. She sighed once more upon realizing the time, and left the kitchen to make her way up to the second floor. A floor that was structured more as a hallway than anything, and past a collection of sealed rooms whose door knobs were coated in a visible layer of dust, she made it to a metal door sealed by a pair of locks, adorned with a label reading “Patient”. Upon pulling out a key from her pocket and taking care of the combination padlock, Jessie opened this door to reveal a person sitting in the center of a padded white room. As the door opened, she was also greeted with a cool breeze provided by a separate appliance, but while this gust of cool air would normally be appreciated, it was laced with a pungent odor that caused her face to twist into a scowl as it passed through her nostrils.
After taking a single sniff, Jessie identified this smell and proceeded to bend down to reach a small box placed outside the door, one containing adult diapers and disposable gloves. Entering the room proper, Jessie took a long look at its occupant, a tall yet rotund young man with his arms restrained in a straight jacket and face obscured by a piece of headgear. They greeted Jessie with an unintelligible moan, the only sound to ever escape his toothless and tongueless mouth.
Wearing a blank expression, Jessie pushed this individual to the floor and quickly yanked off his baggy pants to reveal a soiled diaper that she quickly began to replace. It was a routine procedure for her, yet the act of handling an adult man’s feces still filled her with a palpable twinge of disgust. Though, she knew this situation could be far worse. At least the patient was kept sedated, meaning she did not need to change a diaper while also avoiding attempted kicks to her face.
Upon disposing of the unpleasantries in a nearby waste bin that had been forever tainted with the distinct aroma of shit, Jessie silently locked the metal door and returned downstairs to the kitchen. Where she engaged with another part of her routine, procedurally plugging in a small blender and gathering things from the fridge and cabinets, all while talking to herself.
“I can’t believe I’ve wasted my entire summer on this shit. Three full fucking months of wake up, make breakfast, work out, read, try going out in this unbearable heat, make lunch, read some more, work out again, because the fuck else is there to do, make dinner, read… again, and go to sleep. ‘Oh, but Jessie, this will be a good way to make some money! This will be a great experience! You’ll be able to write a paper about this!’ I was promised a disabled sociopath, but what you motherfuckers really meant was a fat retard who can’t even speak or do anything more sophisticated than shitting his diaper. Yeah, that’s really a job for a psychology major and not some desperate nanny. And all for what? 35 bucks a day? Yeah, sure, you let me stay here, but fuck off with that.”
It was a rant that Jessie had gone on many times over the past few weeks. One against the person who directed her to this job offering to college students that overstated the requirements and understated the compensation. While it seemed like a dream come true, being able to practice the skills she learned so feverishly over the past few years in a practical real-life situation, and from a place located under an hour away from her family’s home, that dream died within the first few days of her new job. She had considered quitting and simply walking away, but contractual obligations are a bitch sometimes, and this was one such instance.
As the blender roared and a concoction was being formed, Jessie looked off to the refrigerator, her eyes focusing on the cheap calendar she put on it, stating the date of August 16th, 1985. She was nearing her final week in this job, and while that was a cause for some celebration, it ultimately just made the tedium feel all the more arduous to Jessie. For she was powerless to do anything other than perpetuate this dull process for another 8 times before she would finally be set free and given the opportunity to take the next bold step in her life.
While Jessie wallowed in such melancholic thoughts for the umpteenth time, the one she was responsible for looking after, the oh so affectionately dubbed “retard,” was stewing within the confines of his room, and tackling the door between his padded white prison and the rest of the world. It was as formulaic a procedure for him as changing diapers was for Jessie. An act that the patient would repeat whenever they had the energy able to, before resuming a lethargic state as time passed. It was a futile endeavor, but the desire for freedom is a primal one, and for as clouded and constrained as his mental state was, the patient understood that this door would lead him to freedom if he could open it up.
Upon bashing their headgear against the padded side of the metal door for the 37th consecutive time, they fell to their ass, and looked forward with disdain. Exasperated by this constant frustration, they channeled their energy in a roar that would have spread throughout the house if not for the whirling blender downstairs. The patient leaned forward afterwards, panting while keeping their eyes on the door, wishing for nothing more in this world than for them to open and reveal the elusive hallway to him. It was then that, somehow, the dual locks of the door came undone, and it ever so slightly began to open up, revealing a crack of something aside from this white monotony, and with no sign of a caregiver. This sight inspired the patient to rise from the floor, and begin bashing the door once more, only to have it open and slam against a perpendicular wall with ease.
The patient breathed heavily as they took in this sight, and set about putting their feet, one after another, against the lukewarm hardwood floor. Using the wall to support themselves as they progressed down the sight, they steadily made their way through the hallway before reaching a staircase, where they looked down to see the only other person they had encountered in months, Jessie Shines.
Jessie, having just finished blending a brown nutritious slurry, walked up the stairs absentmindedly, reaching the second step before realizing that the patient was looming over her. Questions about how he escaped soon entered Jessie’s mind as she began to worry about the repercussions she would face if he fell and hurt himself. This worry inspired Jessie to shoot up the stairs in an effort to grab and drag the patient back to his room, while the patient’s desire for freedom drove him to leap from on top of the stairs, hoping that they could somehow avoid or overpower their caretaker by embarking on a leap of faith.
Their actions caused the two to collide into each other, bashing heads upon impact. Jessie’s body flung back down the stairs, where the back of her head slammed against the floor, while the patient’s forehead collided with a stair. Their bodies did not move after impact, and instead lingered there until around 5:30 PM, when Jesie began emitting clear signs of life.
As her eyes fluttered open, she began to mutter to herself before sending a hand to investigate the throbbing sensation that permeated throughout the back of her skull. While this action appeared natural at first, Jessie suddenly paused as she felt the back of her hand rub against her head and through her long curly hair.
“What?” she uttered absentmindedly, only for her eyes to shoot open after the words left her mouth.
Following that utterance, her movements became frantic, with her head darting around, taking in her surroundings, while her arms flailed about the air, before coming closer to her body. She began to rub herself vigorously, heavily patting it as if to verify its density, and paying particular attention to her womanly crotch and modest breasts. As she examined these things, she began to adopt an uncanny grin that was soon accompanied by a string of laughter. Laughter that became progressively guttural and hoarse as it went on, evolving to a hysterical howl of sorts after 20 seconds, only to abruptly end as Jessie shot up from the ground and focused her attention on the patient’s unmoving body.
“It happened. I’ve escaped. After all this time… I’m free. I’m finally fucking free!” Jessie roared with an exasperated raspiness that echoed throughout the empty home.
After getting such an extreme reaction out of their system, the hysterical black woman proceeded to bend down towards the patient, inspecting them in more detail before letting out a reserved chuckle.
“I can barely even believe that used to be my body. But I guess the caretaker’s now the patient, though I doubt that will last very long. I mean, sure, it’s hard to communicate without a tongue, but after getting into the mess that turned me from what I used to be into… that, I’m not one for taking chances,” Jessie, or rather the patient, remarked as they examined their former body from various angles.
Fueled by a desire to escape from their confinement, the patient transferred their consciousness from their original body into Jessie’s, presumably transferring Jessie’s consciousness into the patient’s in the process. Without the excessive brain damage of their former body, the patient was quickly able to regain their ability to think clearly, speak coherently, and to coordinate themselves properly. Abilities that the patient began to flaunt as they proceeded to wander throughout the house, monologuing to themselves and pondering just what they were going to do next.
“But before I do anything rash, like slicing your throat open, I should think about what I’m doing. Because it’s been such a long time since I’ve had that privilege. Now, I think the first thing on my itinerary, after taking you out that is, should be getting acquainted with ‘my’ new body. You might’ve not had the prettiest face around ‘Jessie,’ but you’ve taken damn good care of yourself. Sure, being a woman is like being a second class citizen, and being a black woman is like being a third class citizen, but it’s better than being a white man who can’t even string together a sentence in his head, so sorry my retarded chum, but I’m going to be keeping this body, if ya don’t mind.”
“Hm, but if I’m going to take your body, then I’m going to need to take your life. Well, not need, but doing so would make things far easier, at least for a time. I’ve got a couple hundred dollars after my last paycheck, but with student loans and the car payment, money is pretty tight. While I can stay with my parents— What in the fuck am I talking about!? I… hold on, those aren’t my… Oh this is just superb! Not only did I snag your body, little Miss Shines, but I’ve got your memories to boot. Ha! This’ll almost be too easy.”
“But yes, yes, even with these memories, I can’t say that I’m very eager to begin living my life as a struggling psychologist, nor do I really care for your name. I mean, Jessie Shines? It’s cute, but it’s just not my style. I could fall back on my prior name, but I was never exceedingly fond of what my parents branded my identity as, and what better time than now to reinvent my identity. However, there is no need to force a name upon myself for the time being, and I truly should take care of the unpleasantness before it dares to wake up. It’s a lot heavier than 15 pound free weights, but I’m sure I can at least drag it around without straining anything.”
“Oh, but specifically shall I do with you, mon chère? I could try to reliable old burying, as it is hard to find a dead body 6 feet under in the woods, but then I would need to lug your lumbering ass all the way there. Hm… the more I stare at you, the less I see a human, and the more I see a hog, a creature whose only value comes from the meat on their bones, and deserves to eat nothing but garbage. Which is an accurate descriptor of the repulsive dreck I have been fed for the past 5 fuckin’ years. As such, I think it is appropriately that I kill you like a hog. Well, maybe not quite like that— I want this to be fast, after all. But I’ve already imagined you roasting in the oven, and I simply must make that a reality.”
From there the patient finished their absentminded exploration of the ground floor and returned to the stairs, where they grabbed their former body and began dragging it along the floor, accessing Jessie’s memories to direct themselves to a bathroom. Once there, they momentarily left to retrieve a set of barely used kitchen knives in order to tear through the protective clothing and accessories adorning the obese body. The straight jacket, the pants, the diaper, the headgear. All of which went to expose the patient’s former body in its unpleasant glory, depicting a hair and oily figure with pale skin and a misshapen head. The patient grimace upon seeing this body great detail, quickly rolling and shoving it into the bathtub.
Once in the right position, the patient adopted an eager grin as they began caressing the neck before slicing it from artery to artery in an attempt to drain the blood from this body, and whatever life remained within it. Once the blood was reduced to a drip, the patient dragged the corpse out of the tub and into the kitchen, where they shoved this obese mound of flesh into the oven, narrowly managing to close the door. The patient was fully aware of the stupidity of these actions, yet they were unphased by the possible repercussions of burning a grown man in an oven. At least in comparison to the pleasure they would derive from closing a foul chapter of their existence in such an impactful and bombastic manner.
The patient let out a subdued chuckle as they set the oven to 425 degrees Fahrenheit, guaranteeing that the corpse before them would be reduced to little more than a massive mound of cooked meat within a few hours. They stared through the opaque oven window as heat began to assault their former body, when something suddenly clicked in the recesses of their mind. A single word that came to the forefront of their consciousness and caused their subdued chuckle to erupt into full blown laughter.
“Vice,” they uttered in a sultry coo, “my name shall be Vice.”
Vice, a term meaning wicked actions, succession, and in some antiquated forms, change. As a moniker, the patient found it to resonate with their personality and predicament in a poetic manner. While it may be an unconventional name, such worries did not phase Vice as their eyes shifted from their former body to their current body. Their old body was roasting before them, and they had been reborn anew, and in order to better appreciate these undeserved gifts, Vice sauntered towards the ground floor bathroom, slamming the door shut in order to begin their much anticipated exploration.
Psycho Shatter 1985: Black Vice Re;Birth Main Page
Phase 01: Re;Birth
Phase 02: Re;Member
Phase 03: Re;Discovery
Phase 04: Re;Turn
Phase 05: Re;Assembled
Phase 06: Re;Juvinated
Phase 07: Re;Action
Phase 08: Re;Union
Phase 09: Re;Join
Phase 10: Re;Fresh
Phase 11: Re;Call
Phase 12: Re;Venge
Phase 13: Re;Joice