Mischiefmakers: Dark Macabre Page 12

  “Jackie?” No response. “You can come out, it’s just me.” His voice echoes deep within the blackness. The piercing smell of urine stings his senses as he lifts his hand to cover his nose and mouth. Before he is able to block the distasteful smell, something liquid drips onto his hand. As he strains to see the strange substance, more of it drips from the ceiling, splattering onto his small glasses. Removing his eyewear, he peers upward. Jackie’s lifeless body dangles by electrical wire from one of the wooden beams. Bloody saliva pours from her mouth. Her neck, flaccid and severely stretched, is lightly torn, revealing some of her flesh. Her body jerks as the last volumes of air release from her body. Her blood-soaked eyes partially hide her pupils, as they appear to look downward at the stunned priest.

  Clenching his eyes shut, he quickly crosses his body with the sign of the cross. He falls to one knee and as he prays, he holds his fists tightly while keeping his head bowed.

  Slowly standing, looking ahead above one of the candles, Father Johns notices something scrawled into the brick. After wiping his glasses with his handkerchief, he places them back onto his face. Walking over to the wall, he tries to read the crooked letters, the dim light making it almost impossible. Realizing he will need more light, he walks over to one of the small stands and opens a small compartment located on its side. Inside, it contains smaller versions of the thick white candles Jackie used. Walking back to the wall, he uses an already lit candle to give flame to the new one. Lifting the flame to the wall, he reads.

  can’t get them out my head, voices… they watchin’ us, they know your plans…they know what you gonna do wit Missy… don’t let Sarah go, they know.

  10

  Back at the apartment, Sarah enters. She walks in, trying to make as little noise as she can. The candles are doused, the room is dark. One of the windows was left open, so

  now the night breeze whisks around the room, tapping the walls and ceiling. The majestic crescent moon sends one of its delicate moonbeams through the opening, directly into the room. The beam’s soft halo gently skips across the brilliantly polished furniture. The draperies quietly sway with the wind, continuously making their acquaintance.

  Cautiously she closes the door. Walking with small gentle strides, she steps forward toward one of the antique lamps. Peering left to right, she bends slightly, reaching for the light switch. Without warning, a flash of bright green light ricochets through- out the room. Bouncing from wall to wall, it seems to be teeming with endless energy. At first, the flying orb seems careful not to damage anything in the room, but it suddenly takes on a different demeanor. The round magical glow begins to slam against the walls and ceiling, inflicting damage with every bounce.

  This alien form of light subdues Sarah as it now ravages the room. She stands in the middle of the apartment, wide-eyed with astonishment and fear. Her arms flat against her body and her mouth wrenched shut, Sarah stands motionless. The unpredictable orb flashes within inches of her, rippling her thin shirt. Sarah feels the ice-cold nature of the orb just before her teeth begin to chatter.

  The room changes. A strange odor emerges, a burning smell. The furniture begins to lose its beauty and luster, and filthy soot begins to engulf it. The magnificent brown wooden floor starts to crack and peel. The walls and ceiling don’t escape their fate, as the soot swallows them also.

  Sarah starts to choke. Her body begins to sting intensely as if she is being burned, yet there is no flame. Her eyes tear profusely, yet there is no smoke.

  Abruptly, all sensations of being trapped in a fire stop. The orb, however, continues to bounce recklessly throughout the room.

  Sarah, wiping the last of the tears, finally feels compelled to try to back toward the door. She realizes this is the fire the city woman had mentioned. The room is now totally destroyed, none of the furnishings recognizable.

  “Where are you going?” A witchy green pair of eyes peers from one of the deep, dark corners, accompanied by a deep voice. With its body made invisible in the darkness, Sarah feels its massive presence as it stares down at her.

  From the moon-accented shadow, a huge powerful hand reaches out as if gesturing for a handshake, then turns its palm upward. The flying orb still flinging itself from wall to wall lands quietly within the palm. The ball of light begins to melt like a block of ice left upon a sweltering hot surface. The orb resounds a fiery, steamy noise as it bubbles and boils within the massive hand. Drooling over the sides, it is soon reduced to green ooze.

  The hand slowly withdraws into the cover of darkness. The powerful voice again introduces itself.

  “Where are you going?”

  Sarah, stunned out of her wits, just stares into the darkness. Bright green eyes begin to pace around the room. As the eyes pass a window, Sarah sees the outline of a massive monster, something beyond anything she could ever imagine. It walks at a normal pace, but the feet that support the weight of this colossal mass slam against the destructed floor.

  Sarah, now hyperventilating violently, reaches into her pocket, searching for her protection. She realizes she has hidden the holy pendant in the hall.

  “Looking for something, Sarah? Is there anything I can do to help you? You do believe I am here to help you?” The monster steps into what used to be the kitchen and opens the fire-dam- aged refrigerator. Sarah, still blinded by the lack of light, only hears the creature as it moves about the apartment. Squinting slightly, she can see the illuminated eyes as they turn to watch her.

  “Well, I’m sorry to say, but there is no food. But I think you’ll do just--”

  “Who are you?” Sarah halts the deep voice.

  The loathsome voice releases a sinister chuckle as it again begins to move about.

  “Let’s just say, I’m a friend of some friends.”

  Sarah sees the eyes as they, for the first time, begin to move in her direction. Without thought, Sarah turns and runs, breaking open the severely burned front door.

  Her progress is immediately ceased. There, standing directly in front of her, are two snow-white jackals. In their offensive stance, they glare at Sarah, their razor-sharp teeth extending from their pink salivating gums. Their piercing, icy blue eyes never blink but stare with full concentration. Without one flaw, their immaculate white coats hug their thin muscular builds. Their light pink noses lift into the air, exploring the strange new scent of fear radiating from Sarah. Once the scent is verified, they release their menacing grins.

  The hallway that was once quiet and dim has transformed to icy tundra. The bright, white landscape is almost blinding. Magnificent icicles extend from the ceiling, with their bases imbedded in a sheet of ice that now serves as the ceiling. The once-carpeted floor is now a densely packed snow-covered oasis. The snow has a smooth silk-like consistency, only disturbed by the tracks of the two four-legged guardians.

  Sarah slowly backs away, shutting the door. After a few backward steps, all she sees is a closed blackened door with a soft, white light peering through its outer boundaries.

  “I’m glad you have decided to stay.”

  Realizing she is trapped, Sarah turns to look at the creature who is still masked by shadow.

  “Where’s Melissa?!” Sarah screams.

  “Why do you ask? You cannot help her.”

  “I can help her!”

  “Sarah, you have too much faith in that priest. Neither he nor that pendant can help you now.” Sarah tries to hide the look of surprise on her face. “You wonder how I know? Once within Jackie’s head, she belonged to us. Sure, she struggled at first, but she listened in on you and the priest, just as we asked. Surprisingly though, she fought until the end. We could not get her to kill you, but that is fine, I have you now.”

  “Why kill me?! I’ll leave, I swear!”

  “Too late, you have already been warned. We know that you would not leave for long, you would come back. Your love for Melissa is strong. So you must die!”

  “What could you gain by killing me?” Sarah screams out in pure t
error, praying for her life.

  credit to: Dave Stricklan “Mouthfuls of your warm blood are what I hope to gain! It is with your vital fluid I shall relieve my hunger!” The already terrify- ing eyes glow with anger.

  In one gigantic, swift motion, the huge beast attacks. It launches itself at Sarah, latching onto her head, gouging at her eyes. The huge hand rakes itself across Sarah’s chest, opening a wide gash. Blood flows like a river. Sarah releases a high-pitched scream that is quickly quieted.

  Within the shadows, the chewing, ripping of flesh, and snap - ping of bones resound in the darkness. Outlined by moonlight, the huge hand prepares to attack once more. It slashes at the softest parts of Sarah, ripping out chunks that it flings into its gap- ing jaws. Other parts are flung carelessly away to the ground. Its dark claws drip blood that splatters onto the fire escape through an open window.

  The beast shifts its prey toward the open window for a better view of its meal. The pastel moonbeams now outline the once-hidden monster. Its head, far more massive than any human head, is covered with thin, spiny quills, resembling a porcupine. Its teeth, resembling the fangs of a giant king cobra, slice again through Sarah’s already-open chest like a heated knife through soft butter.

  Sarah releases one last slight moan that is shortened by the blood filling her throat.

  The sound of the beast’s feeding frenzy can only be mimicked by a starving pack of timber wolves voraciously ripping apart a small child.

  Suddenly, the monster takes a brief pause. Its mouth wet with blood and flesh, it swallows. Gazing out the window, it begins a sinister laughter. Dropping Sarah’s body, it wipes its mouth with one swipe of its massive arm.

  After its laughter, it releases a huge roar that rivals that of any earthly beast.

  Outside the building, a shadowy figure scurries down the dark street. As it comes closer, its holy nature is felt by the sinister demon inside the apartment.

  Father Johns, panting heavily, stops briefly to gather some breath. His exhaustion is tremendous; his body tries to convince him to just faint. Fighting off his weary body’s desire, he lifts himself back into an upright position and continues to run. His face bursts with perspiration that causes his glasses to fog, rendering them useless. Not exactly sure where he’s going, he glares left to right, trying to find the building that he has only heard about.

  Without warning, there is a thunderous explosion. The mere vibration drops Father Johns to his knees. Soon after the erup- tion, an enormous ball of flames roars from the rooftop of the building.

  Father Johns picks up his glasses, which were blown clear off his face. Placing them back onto his nose, he looks up, realizing Sarah is in that building.

  Suddenly, the evil shrill that had broken the morning calm some time ago pronounces itself once more, except this time it rends the evening sky.

  Father Johns looks upward, trying to get a glimpse of the ani- mal that could make such an evil sound, but the dark sky hides it well.

  credit to: elendill

  A NEW FRIEND

  Fighting the thick white haze embracing her sight, Melissa squints open her eyes. The pain makes her clamp them shut again. Peering cautiously through the watery tears, she

  peeks out, trying desperately to figure out her strange new sur- roundings. All she can see is white. The walls and ceiling are white. Even the man near her is a blur of angelic white.

  “I see you have decided to wake up.” The handsome man gently smiles at the groggy woman. “You have been asleep for a few days now,” he says, standing up from the chair next to the bed.

  “Where am I?” asks Melissa.

  “Livingston Medical Center,” he answers.

  “Not another damn hospital!” Melissa attempts to get up when a fierce pain rips through her arm. She accidentally snatches one of her IV lines out of her vein. “Shit!”

  “Hold on...relax, let me get a nurse to put that back in.” The man walks toward the door in order to summon one of the passing nurses. As he sticks his head out the door, Melissa takes a closer look at her visitor. She pulls back the hospital curtains, observing his big bulky jeans, big boots, blue T-shirt, and bright red suspenders. He is six foot, well built, with dark hair.

  “Who are you?” asks Melissa.

  Pulling his head back into the room, he turns, smiles, and walks over to the bed. Placing each hand on the guardrails at the side of Melissa, the handsome man hovers over her, and she notices his captivating brown eyes.

  “I am the man who risked his life to get you out of a burning building. I’m a fireman as you can see.” Melissa notices the big boots and red suspenders. But she immediately has questions.

  “A fire?! What about Sarah, my friend, is she here, too?” Hear- ing Melissa’s question, the man’s pleasant smile vanishes.

  “I’m sorry, but your friend did not survive the explosion.”

  Melissa feels her stomach twisting into painful knots. Her eyes become watery, her sight unclear. An enormous feeling of emptiness overwhelms her. She becomes very quiet, allowing her head to drift onto its side, looking away from the handsome young man. She gently closes her eyes, hiding from the glaring sunlight that pours into her room.

  Almost as if he feels her pain, the young man stares at Melissa with a passionate look. Reaching out to her, he kindly strokes the back of her head.

  “Someone lost an IV in here?” The nurse’s voice startles the man.

  “Yeah, right here, she yanked it out by mistake.”

  The nurse dressed in typical nurse uniform proceeds to reinsert the IV.

  “Is she okay?” the nurse asks as she searches for a vein.

  “Yeah, she recently heard some bad news.”

  “All right, well, I’m all done here. Any other problems, just hit that little green button off to the side, okay?”

  “I’ll be sure to do that, thank you.”

  “Don’t thank me. It’s what I get paid for. You have a good day.”

  The young man sits back down on the hard wooden chair, picks up the sports section of a nearby paper, and begins reading.

  Melissa’s mind is throbbing. She feels her thoughts racing back and forth inside her brain, banging around, and causing her to feel great pain. She grabs the pillow and shoves it down over her face, and tries to smother the pain, as her mind pulsates and thumps and takes her on a memorable journey.

  She remembers Sarah. In her mind, she can see Sarah’s kind face, gracious smile, crazy laughter, and gentle attitude. She remembers the laughs they often shared over a gallon of rum or over whatever they could steal or afford. Sarah was Melissa’s rock. Sarah was always there for Melissa. She wonders who will be there for her now. She can’t go home; she barely knows where home is or who would even be there. It’s been almost eight years. Melissa’s mind goes into a whirlwind frenzy, trying to grasp the reality of her situation. She wants to reach out, to cry out to somebody. She attempts to speak to Sarah through her thoughts.

  Sarah...Sarah...can you hear me? I can’t live without you, Sarah, you’re all I have, there is no one else. Please come back to me, I didn’t get a chance to thank you for all you’ve done for me. Please, say something to me. But there is no voice to comfort Melissa’s cry.

  Remember you said you would never leave me, we would always be together. That’s what you said! Melissa’s closed eyes begin to overflow with tears of grief. I’ll miss you, Sarah. I’ll miss you more than you could ever know. I love you, Sarah, good-bye. Saying her last good-bye and with her lips tightly shut, she squeezes out all remaining tears.

  “Are you okay?” the young man asks.

  Melissa rolls her head back in the direction of the young man as one last tear glides down her face.

  “What happened? How did the fire start?” asks Melissa.

  “Well, it seems that the vacant building where you and your friend were staying sprung a gas leak. We think it was residual gas left in the pipes when the gas was shut off during the first fire, and somehow it ig
nited. You were brought here due to smoke inhalation.”

  “The building we were staying at wasn’t vacant. There were some other families living there.”

  “What other families?”

  “I don’t know exactly, I mean, I never saw them, but the owner said there were other families.”

  “You met the owner?”

  “Yes, I met the owner,” Melissa answers with an irritated tone.

  “Look, I’m not trying to bug you, it’s just that we fought a fire there over six months ago, and, if I’m not mistaken, the owner died in that blaze along with several other people. The apartment you were staying in was the only one with a floor. The rest were gutted out months ago.”

  “The place I was staying in had never been in any fire. You must be in the wrong goddamn room.”

  Suddenly there is a knock at the door. A man with a stern, unshaven face and unpleasant demeanor comes through the door. His thick striped tie, off-white shirt, and polyester pants wouldn’t win him any praise from a fashion critic. Flashing his shiny gold detective badge, he arrogantly smiles as he steps toward Melissa. After he scratches what is left of his hair, he pulls out a small pad and pencil.

  “You are the woman from the fire down Ironbound?”

  “Yes.”

  He nods as if he already knew the answer. He turns to the young man.

  “Could you please give us a moment? Alone.” With a crude tone, he gestures for the young man to leave.

  “Sure, no problem.” He leaves the room.

  “So, you and your friend enjoy playing with matches, setting old abandoned buildings on fire?” he asks with a slight chuckle.

  “Who are you?!” Melissa asks.

  “I’m sorry, was I rude?” he asks with sarcasm. “Detective Peter- son, Arthur J.”