Mischiefmakers: Dark Macabre Read online

  cannot be a part of this family,” he said in a quiet tone. He then

  looked at Melissa’s mother. His eyes directed her back into the

  house as she tried to catch a final glimpse of her daughter. Her

  sisters’ faces were swollen and wet from crying. Although they

  couldn’t hear much, they undoubtedly knew that Melissa was being kicked out and she wasn’t coming back; she was 18 now and all on her own. With as much grace as she could manage, she picked up the suitcase, took a deep breath, and started walking away.

  2

  A

  thunderous bolt of lightning and Harry’s moaning climax rudely interrupts Melissa’s recollection of the past. As she slowly regains her footing in the present, the foul odor of

  her surroundings fills her nostrils. She is sick, sick to her stomach of her life, this place, and this idiot pumping away inside her. Thinking to herself, This bastard is loving this and I hate him more for that more than anything else. If I could only reach that slender piece of glass...damn, too far! It would fit perfectly between his ribs, then puncture a lung, and he’d squeal like a pig. I’d tower over him, spit in his face, then grab my shit, and leave him to these cat-sized rats. Damn, how did I end up here with this monster?

  Harry, she suddenly remembers, seemed to come out of nowhere a few months ago. He appeared like a dark angel, she thought at first. When other men only offered her a chance to pleasure them, he offered her tenderness. He gave when the other men took. He had a voice that soothed. He had eyes that were gentle as a lamb’s. He was strangely attracted to her — and Melissa, to Harry. He, for sure, wasn’t a looker. No Brad Pitt lookalike here, but there was something about Harry that drew her to him. In fact, he was very sweet and endearing to her, always offering her hunks of every scrap of food he could scavenge, and his coat when she was cold, and when you live on the streets, that sort of loving kindness is hard to come by. At times, they would talk for hours about life and what they wanted out of it. Like Melissa, Harry once had big dreams. Dreams he’d long ago given up on. Dreams that life on the streets had squashed. He always told her she was beautiful like a princess. It’s been a long time since anyone has given her compliments like that. It felt at times like Melissa was living in a fairy tale. It never occurred to her he could be such an insensitive beast, such an animal.

  “Let’s wait out the rain in the old fire house,” he suggests. A series of nice kisses quickly turn into a straight-out wrestling match, and guess who loses.

  Melissa is too scared to scream as his tight grip retracts slightly from her neck. With thunder so loud, she wouldn’t be heard anyway.

  UNHOLY CONCEPTION

  The next day is bright with a sweet spring aroma in the air; the sun is high in the morning sky. The only evidence of the storm is the large puddles of water everywhere. Melissa

  vaguely remembers Harry getting up saying, “Baby, I’ll see you later.” Without answering, she rolled over and went back to sleep. She knew she could go without seeing that bastard for the rest of her life.

  Melissa hears a scornful voice as soon as she turns the corner. “Girl, where the hell you been all night? I was worried about you!” There is Sarah standing in front of the shelter on Central Avenue where they receive their daily meals. Sarah is older than Melissa and has been on the streets a lot longer. She has taken Melissa under her wing. Newark is a rough city, and Melissa often finds herself in a world of trouble with her neighbors when she sleeps in the stairways of Prince Street projects. Melissa doesn’t think they like having a young white girl hanging around, homeless or not. Needless to say, Sarah has saved Melissa’s ass plenty of times. Even though Sarah is black and probably twice Melissa’s age, she is the closest thing Melissa has to a sister now. Sarah never discusses her real age, but Melissa estimates about 35 to 40. With a thin build and beautiful bronze skin, Sarah stands about five-ten. Her hair in short locks makes life a little easier; it’s not like she can make the trip to the salon every week. It’s rough enough trying to catch a good meal. Lucky for them, the trash is never emptied on time, and people are so damn wasteful. With Melissa’s baby face and Sarah’s art of bullshitting, the two women seldom go hungry and rarely look homeless.

  Melissa believes Sarah left loved ones behind and wants to forget her past. Melissa has often tried to convince Sarah to share some of her secrets, but Sarah always ignores her, so Melissa gets the hint to change the topic.

  The streets have made Sarah tough. She has become a master in the day-to-day game of survival, often showing up at the mission with fresh bruises from a skirmish the night before.

  “I asked, where the hell you been? Are you hard of hearing or somethin’?!”

  “Sorry, Sarah, I just didn’t hear you.”

  “Missy, you can’t disappear like that; it’s crazy out here. You know we got to look out for each other.”

  “You sound like a mother,” Melissa responds.

  “I don’t care what I sound like, don’t just disappear like that!”

  “Okay, Sarah. I see you had a wild evening.” Melissa is referring to Sarah’s new battle scar, a puffy black-and-blue cheek.

  “Yeah, before the rain, I had to jump on some folk tryin’ to steal my shit...problem was, they jumped on me too. We gotta get outta this, it’s gettin’ crazy out here.”

  “You’re right about that.”

  “Where’s that weird guy you been hangin’ with?” Sarah asks.

  “I don’t know,” Melissa says in a low, angry tone. If she let on about what happened last night, Sarah would kill him and then her for being so stupid and gullible. Sarah doesn’t notice Melissa’s ripped clothing because it is their usual attire, but she does notice the look of pain on Melissa’s face. Melissa’s vagina begins to throb.

  “Are you awright, Missy? You look sick.”

  “I’m awright, just need to eat.”

  “So, Missy, where you been?” Sarah asks again with less con- cern in her voice.

  “I was hangin’ out at the old fire house, gettin’ outta that storm last night.”

  “You were lucky. I was caught on Springfield Avenue looking for your ass when all that shit came down. I had to camp out in the dumpster outside of Roscoe’s Chicken and Pizza. It wasn’t all bad though. I guess the storm stopped them from makin’ some deliveries, so they threw some good food out, and I was right there to gobble that shit up.”

  “Well, I haven’t eaten, so can we go inside and get some food?”

  They begin to walk up the brick stairs to the St. Mary’s Shelter and Mission. It’s a worn-down old office building the St. Mary’s Catholic Church purchased a few years ago. They supply two good meals a day, breakfast and dinner. Although the paint is peeling off the walls and the smell of mildew fills the air, Melissa cher- ishes the time she spends here off the streets.

  This morning, like all the rest, is peaceful. All everyone wants is some food and another chance. The mission serves lots of oatmeal, but no second chances. Frustration is on all their faces; not all of them are bad people or strung-out on drugs. Most faces hang low, their eyes filled with desperation. They are family men and women, good people, some had good jobs at one time, but one thing in their lives just destroyed everything.

  Melissa dwells within her thoughts as she peers through the familiar crowd of people. I hated what he stood for, always talking about God and how wonderful He is. Shit, God never done anything for me. And it seems like God ain’t doing much for these people either. Why would God allow people who praise Him every day to live in such a shit-hole? While the rich get richer and live on Society Hill, does God see this shelter?

  As Melissa’s mind flows with questions, she and Sarah walk up to the table to get their plates. Suddenly a piercing pain cuts through Melissa’s entire body. Without hesitation, she falls to her knees.

  “Sarah, help me!”

  “Girl, what’s wrong with you? You okay?”

  “Sarah, the pain, it hurts so bad!�
� She screams, and tears form as she gasps for air. It feels as if she is being burned from the inside out. She feels her temperature quickly raise, her vision no longer clear. Melissa can barely recognize Sarah, who is frantically trying to lift her off the ground. She screams in total agony as the burning rips through her body like millions of minute explosions. Melissa feels a warm sensation just above her lips, then a salty taste fills her mouth. She begins to choke as the warm blood overwhelms her throat. Harry, that diseased bastard. I know he gave me somethin’, I know it!

  “Oh, God! She’s bleeding bad!” Sarah tries her best to hold Melissa, before losing her grip. Several of the volunteers rush to help.

  Sounds begin to drift farther away. Melissa feels herself drifting away, too. The shelter, the familiar people, even Sarah is beginning to slowly fade like mists in her memory. Melissa is seeing things in black and white. All the color in her vision is gone. She thinks she’s dying. She feels her body grow cold. She wants to reach out, to grab somebody, and have them pull her back, save her from wherever it is she’s vanishing. But all at once it’s too late. All the white quickly fades, now it’s black. Her world is all black. She figures it’s time for her to see what life really is after death. Calm and pain overcome her equally. Her mind is blank. There isn’t a thought or a memory left in her brain. Through a thick mist, slowly she sees something. Unclear at first, a tall figure comes into view, a familiar figure, walking toward her.

  “Dad? Dad, is that you? Oh, there’s my mom and my sisters, why are they waving at me, saying good-bye forever. Wait, come back! Please, don’t leave me! I love you, I’m sorry. I don’t want to be alone. I can’t feel the pain anymore, but I can still hear some screaming. It sounds far away. It must be Sarah, good-bye, Sarah, I’ll miss you.”

  2

  Melissa rises, startled by the lights in the unfamiliar room. The lighting bounces around in her head as she attempts to focus on a familiar object. But everything is different

  and strange. She’s scared. The room is white and cleaner than any room she has seen in years. She doesn’t know what to make of it. Is this heaven or hell? What is this I’m lying on, feels comfortable, a cloud maybe or some heavenly body, an angel?

  I’m exhausted. Let me lie back down. Somethin’ is coming toward me. Wearing all white with a halo. Yes! This must be heaven, my father is wrong after all. I am going to heaven.

  “Good evening, how do you feel?” Melissa, startled by the question, looks up at her supposed angel and realizes her angel is actually a nurse. Her heaven is a hospital room. Melissa becomes agitated and nervous. She shakes her head frantically, trying to clear her vision.

  “Yeah! I’m okay, okay enough to get up and get the fuck outta here!” As she speaks, Melissa shuffles the sheets layer by layer, looking frantically for her clothing and possible escape routes.

  “Ma’am, we cannot permit you to leave just yet. We have to wait for the test results.”

  “The hell you can’t! What tests?! I didn’t ask you to take no damn tests!”

  Melissa quickly finds herself involved in a wrestling match with the stout nurse. Hearing Melissa’s food tray smashing to the floor, two doctors and another nurse passing in the hallway rush in to help their colleague.

  “Please calm down, Miss. We are only trying to help you!” one doctor exclaims.

  “Grab her arms!” another nurse screams.

  Melissa is confused and strangely disoriented. Her voice becomes deep with a masculine tone, her jugular veins pulsate as if they are about to burst.

  “Release me, you meat! Release me or you...will...die! I will dis- embowel each of you and devour your souls. The pleasure will equal total ecstasy as I bathe myself in your blood. It is from her womb your king shall rise.”

  Melissa’s eyes roll deep into their sockets, disappearing into her head. A bitter chill overwhelms the room. The doctors and nurses, dumbfounded by the change in Melissa’s voice, look at each other with a puzzled stare and immediately release her. Melissa staggers into the corner before crouching to the floor.

  The room instantly transforms into a frozen paradise; the walls, the floors, the ceiling, are all covered with ice. It looks as if a win- ter blizzard has come and gone within seconds. Icicles form in the blink of an eye all around the room.

  “Dr. Franklin! What’s going on?” Nurse Charles’ voice shivers from the freezing temperatures and disbelief.

  “I-I-I d-d-d-don’t know! I’ve n-n-never seen anything like this in my life. Where are the doors? The windows? Where are we?” The doctor speaks with borderline hysteria as he tries to think rationally, searching his mind for some logical explanation. The others begin to wander around the room in a daze, their eyes glazed over. They clutch their hospital clothing, trying to remain warm as a brisk winter chill sweeps the room.

  Dr. Franklin approaches one of the frozen cabinets to inves- tigate. Slowly, he reaches out to touch the ice, What is this? This is impossible! We’ve only been in here a few minutes, how could everything freeze? It’s the middle of May! Cautiously, he brushes the ice-like substance with his finger. It isn’t even cold, it’s warm! The doctor lifts his finger to his nose and takes a deep breath, des- perately trying to fathom an explanation.

  “My God, it burns!” His screams rend the air, breaking every- one’s mindless daze. A pain rips through his head, tearing his brain and soul into pieces. Bursts of blood exit his eyes and nose, showering the icy white cabinet. The doctor staggers backwards. He stumbles over his own feet and falls, slamming his head on the icy floor. His bloody eyes peer forward without so much as a blink. The other doctor and the two nurses fall to his side to tend to him.

  “Dr. Franklin! This is Dr. Webster. Can you hear me?! Are you okay?!” he screams as he frantically attempts to revive his col- league.

  Nurse Tracy panics. “Oh my God, look at his face! It’s bleed- ing, it’s bleeding! Why is it bleeding? Aren’t we still in the hospi- tal? Why isn’t anyone coming to help us?!” She runs deliriously to the icy wall and bangs with all the strength she can muster. “Let me out of here! Let me out of here, please God let me out!” Exhausted, she collapses to the ground with deep wounds on her hands from the jagged ice. Blood fills her palms as she clutches them into tight fists.

  A terrible voice suddenly breaks the silence. Out from thin air it roars. Its powerful tone forces its words to be heard and understood.

  “If you are awaiting help, it will not come. Who could save you from me? God Himself cannot save you. You need me. I am nourishment for your soul. I have made you what you are!”

  “Who are you? What are you? What do you want from us?” Nurse Tracey whimpers in a voice stripped by the freezing temperatures. She looks up with terror in her eyes and awaits a response. Then suddenly,

  “I am the dragon whose angels shall descend upon your flesh like locust. Lord of the black mass, I am vengeance and indulgence. I am undefiled wisdom, author of the black book! You mean nothing to me, animal, do not speak to me, ever, die!” The voice is quiet. The only sound is the brisk winter breeze whistling through the small room.

  They all peer at the frozen ceiling in amazement, trying to get a glimpse of the being with such an evil voice and arrogant temperament.

  “Get away from us!” Nurse Tracey stares at Melissa, who is unconscious in the far corner of the room. “Get out of here!” With a timid stride, Tracey walks toward Melissa with her bloody fists clutched by her side. Before she is within a few feet, Melissa looks up suddenly. Her eyes are without features, no pupils, no lids; they are completely white. All the vessels on her face pulsate like maggots swarming over rotting meat. Her chapped lips slowly spread apart as a swarm of flies burst from her throat. Tracey stops and begins swinging her bloody fists at the menacing insects. She is hurled to the other side of the room by an unseen force.

  “Leave her alone!” screams Nurse Charles.

  “Please leave us, we’ve done nothing to you,” the young doctor pleads.

  Nu
rse Charles rushes over to help the young horrified woman. In an attempt to calm Nurse Tracey, as well as herself, she wraps her frostbitten arms around her and begins to pray.

  “Tracey, calm down...baby, please calm down.” In a quiet angelic voice, Nurse Charles recites her favorite Psalm,

  “Save me, O God, for the waters have come up to my neck. I sink in the miry depths, where there is no foothold. I have come to the deep waters; the floods engulf me. I am worn out from calling for help; my throat is parched. My eyes fail, looking for my God.”

  “My God I don’t know what’s happening to us. All I ask is that You return us to Your embrace and out of the grasp of this evil place. My God, I know You can hear my call, You can hear anything, please help us. Amen.” She peacefully closes her eyes, as tears race down her cheeks, for she feels her existence coming to an end. The swarm of flies quickly begins to fall from the air as if sprayed by poison. Her small crucifix earrings dislodge themselves from her ears and fall onto the icy floor. Small drops of blood aggregate around the head, foot, and each arm of the crucifix. The drops race as though searching for tiny cracks in the icy floor in which to embed themselves. Nurse Charles looks over her shoulder, noticing one of the small red droplets whisk toward a tiny fissure and disappear. She also notices her earrings as they begin to melt easily into the seemingly impassable ice. Confused and dazed, she stares at the melted outline of her earrings.

  The evil wind disappears as suddenly as it appeared. Nurse Charles feels a sense of numbness overtaking her body as she looks up. A black liquid begins to form behind the ice, causing a deep tar-like substance to slowly ooze out of the spaces where the droplets have fallen. Dr. Webster is oblivious to the event, as he is still trying to revive his colleague. Nurse Tracey’s eyes are shut tight as she holds steadfast around Nurse Charles’ waist.

  Quietly, Melissa lifts from the corner. Not by her own will she stands, seemingly unconscious. Her feet hover slightly above the frozen floor. Melissa’s hospital gown is drenched in the sweat pour- ing from her face. Her hair, soaking wet, dangles down the sides of her face as if she has just taken a long shower. She floats toward the opposite end of the room, her head swaying back and forth. Her arms dangle to her sides as if death has introduced itself.