Mischiefmakers: Dark Macabre Page 3

  Dr. Webster is the first to notice. As she floats pass him, he quickly moves away, almost falling. For the devilish entity control- ling these events, Dr. Webster has not moved fast enough, so he is quickly thrown across the room. Dr. Webster’s body slams into a razor sharp icicle that pierces his heart. He lets out a low moan as his life vacates his being. The thick dark blood radiates around the puncture wound, eventually finding the floor and creating a small sea of blood.

  Nurse Charles is terrified watching these ungodly events take place directly in front of her. Unable to scream, talk, or even think, she crouches and watches the floating body move closer and closer to the wall.

  As Melissa drifts toward the wall, a metamorphosis takes place. Icicles burst through the wall, forming the shape of Melissa’s body, the interior of her shape liquefying, swallowing her beyond sight. The icicles bleed a black fluid, then shatter and fall to the floor. The liquid wall becomes solid again.

  Meanwhile, the black tar-like substance still flows, melting through large portions of ice. The areas where the crucifixes have melted through catch fire. Bits of cinder shower the room and darken it to an eerie haze. The ice is covered with black soot. Fire and ice oppose each other like ancient enemies. Their clashes begin and end with bursts of fire.

  The room is on fire now. Flames lick the walls, climbing higher and higher. The flames reach out, fiery hands yearning to snatch hold of something living to burn, yearning to devour everything.

  Nurse Charles tries to stamp out the flames. They reach out for her. They blast in her face. The whole room begins to burn and smoke like the bowels of Hell.

  Nurse Charles attempts to lift Tracey away from the oncoming flames. The substance begins to drip fireballs from the ceiling like volcanic molten rock. Crashing down, it burns the ice and every- thing within the room.

  Smoke pours over the two nurses. They scream and back away into a corner. They find themselves trapped there, as one thunderous ball of flames come hurling toward them. They put their hands out, trying to stop the flames from consuming them. Screaming at the top of their lungs, they cry in pain. Their eyes bugged with fright, they huddle even closer, but to no avail. They are trapped and engulfed by the flames.

  WATCHFUL EYES

  In a dark, narrow downtown alley with a stench that could suffocate a sewer rat, Sarah searches through some trash in hopes of finding food. It’s been days since Sarah last ate. Her belly

  aches. She rummages deeper in the dumpster, shoving aside greasy fast-food wrappers and empty pizza boxes. Suddenly she sees two familiar bloodshot eyes staring back at her from behind two black garbage bags. In a fright, she leaps back.

  “What the hell?” Sarah stares hard between the two bags and the gritty brick wall. Suddenly her body softens. It’s Melissa. Sarah scratches her head. “Girl, what are you doing here!”

  “Huh?” drawls Melissa. She looks around. Slobber hangs down from her chin.

  “Don’t huh me, what are you doing out of the hospital so soon?”

  Melissa, groggy and confused, looks around at her surroundings, then at Sarah. She searches her memory for words.

  “They must have let me go. The nurse said something about tests, then she let me leave.” Melissa’s voice has a low drunken tone to it at first, but it swiftly disappears as Sarah helps her to her feet.

  “Damn! What, they gave you some tests and new clothes too? That’s some nice shit you wearin’.”

  “Some lady gave me these clothes when I left the hospital, I think.” Melissa looks down to find herself wearing a red silk shirt with some relatively new Levi’s jeans and red sneakers.

  “Well, you got them now, so it really don’t matter. I’m glad to see you doin’ okay. You had me worried for a bit. The assholes

  credit to: www.tomituri.hu wouldn’t even let me come see you, so I kicked the shit out of one of the guards and ran my ass off.”

  “Sarah, when did I go to the hospital?”

  “Dummy, yesterday! May 16th, my birthday! I was just about to remind you before your ass went into damn convulsions. What was wrong with you anyway?”

  “Hey, I’m sorry. Well, I’m feelin’ fine now. I was just kinda sick, I think they said I had an allergy to somethin’ I ate.”

  “Well, you need to stop eating all that crap.”

  “How about some wine, so we can celebrate your belated birth- day?” Melissa’s head begins to clear more and more with each passing moment. In her mind, she attributes her lack of memory to medications given to her in the hospital.

  “You got some money?” a hopeful Sarah asks.

  Melissa reaches into the pocket of her new Levi’s and pulls out a crisp bundle of twenties and fifties.

  “Yeah, I got a little.”

  “Damn, girl, the lady gave you that too!”

  “I guess so. Let’s get out of here and get somethin’ good to eat.” Melissa wraps her arm around Sarah as they both walk, smiling and laughing, onto Central Avenue.

  Hovering eyes from above watch the two closely. Melissa feels the strange presence as she briefly stops, turns, and looks up.

  “You feel that?”

  “Feel what?”

  “Never mind, must be all those damn drugs the doctors gave. They got me feelin’ kinda strange. Come on, let’s go eat.”

  Once they are out of view, peering from above, the watchful eyes drift back into the alley. They spy down on the unknowing women. They float toward an overflowing garbage bin. A brisk wind removes a pile of newspapers, uncovering the body of a young Caucasian woman. Her open eyes are expressionless and completely white except for the black tar-like substance that surrounds them. Her mouth, frozen open in a stiff pose, steadily becomes a home for several hungry centipedes and flies that come and go as they please. Her skin is caked with splattered dry blood. Cracked blood surrounding her lips looks as if her tongue was viciously torn out. As she lies there nude in a bed of garbage and tattered clothes, alone in the forgotten alleyway, the watchful eyes gaze in an attempt to steal any ounce of her life’s essence that has survived.

  The body is instantly frozen as a fire rages within the ice. Seconds later the blaze subsides and the ice diminishes. The girl’s body has vanished. Nothing is left but a running river of sweltering blood, bones, and melting ice. Smoke floats up from the river, rising to the sky. The buzzing flies descend on it. Roaches, maggots, and a host of other insects swiftly emerge from their hiding places to gorge on the warm nutritious delicacy.

  2

  With deep pockets, the two decide to travel in style on New Jersey Transit to Bess Diner in Irvington. There was a time when Sarah was able to cop some CDs out of

  Tower Records and sell them downtown. With the money, she and Melissa would come to Bess Diner for chicken soup with ham, green salads, and baked potatoes with minimal hassle.

  During the 20-minute bus ride up Springfield Avenue, Sarah tries to converse with Melissa but to no avail. Melissa drifts within her own thoughts, away from the outside world. Staring through the graffiti-blanketed window, Melissa isn’t sure what has capti- vated her attention.

  3

  W

  atchful eyes hover quietly over Bess Diner as they eavesdrop on Sarah and Melissa.

  “Damn, I feel good! I wanna get drunk. I feel like drinking until I pass out. How’s that sound?” asks Melissa. “What’s wrong with you? On the bus, you didn’t even want to talk. Now you want to get drunk?” responds Sarah.

  “Well, I have a new attitude. I feel like things are goin’ to change for us. We’re gonna get off the streets.”

  “We’ll see, let’s worry about gettin’ through this day first.”

  “You know how people look down on us just because we got screwed-up lives, families that threw us out of the house, away from our sisters, mothers...you know, things gotta change!” Melissa’s attitude shifts from anger to a whimpering cry as she lays her head hopelessly on the table, and her memory of her last evening with Harry suddenly resurfaces. Th
e waitress approaches the booth smiling and in a seemingly cheerful mood.

  “Are you ready to order, ma’am?”

  Melissa, startled, snaps her head back and begins to shout.

  “Look! Does it look like we’re ready?! What, you think we don’t have any money?” For a split second, Melissa’s eyes glimmer a dull green glow. Sarah and the waitress do not notice, only listen to the anger that fills her voice.

  “Melissa, relax!” Patting her on the hand. “Look, I’m sorry. She just got out of the hospital, please just give us a minute and we’ll order,” Sarah says as the shocked waitress shuffles her order pad and walks away. “What the hell are you doing, when did you begin hating the world again?” Melissa calms down as the feelings of rage subside.

  “I’m sorry, go ahead and order for the both of us, I’m going to the bathroom to clean up a little.” Before finishing her sentence, she rises and walks toward the bathroom. As she steps closer to the restroom, a feeling of nausea overwhelms her stomach, and at the same time, she is struck with a dizzy spell, causing her to stagger. Reaching for the door, her body stiffens. Once inside the restroom, Melissa rests against the white-tiled wall. She shakes her head, trying to fight the maddening spell, but it’s hopeless. Falling to her knees, she embraces the toilet and begins to vomit fiercely. As she coughs up a mixture of blood and bodily fluids, a black shadow quietly embraces her.

  4

  “I see you haven’t lost your appetite.” Melissa surprises Sarah in

  the middle of her feeding frenzy.

  “Hell no, while you been gettin’ that hospital food for a night, I still been out here scurrying the streets for lukewarm soup. How you feelin’? Still wanna curse the world?”

  “No, sorry about that, I feel better now.”

  “What took you so long in there?”

  “Nothin’, just feeling a little dizzy, that’s all.” Melissa gazes around, feeling she is being watched. As she stares at each patron with a suspicious glare, she sees a black shadow dash through the room. She spins quickly, but it disappears.

  “Girl, what did they give you in that hospital?” Sarah asks, look- ing up from her plate and observing Melissa’s strange behavior. “What do you mean?” Melissa sits, while giving another quick glance over her shoulder.

  “I mean you’re different.”

  Melissa looks at Sarah and responds, “I’m fine, I’m the same person that I was yesterday, so relax and eat.”

  Sarah is puzzled at the quick change in character, but her hunger pangs don’t allow her to dwell on the subject.

  Beyond all the diner conversations, baby screaming, and general chatter, a small television broadcasts in the background; its picture is slightly obscured with a thick layer of dust and kitchen grease. When the words “Special Report” race across the screen, Sarah’s attention shifts away from her food to the television. Patrons place their coffee back onto the counter, and others put forks onto their plates. They all view the TV with curious stares.

  “Good afternoon. This is KLEW news. We have a breaking story revealing a double homicide that occurred at approximately nine p.m. last night at The University of Medicine and Dentistry Hospital. We will now go on location with Susan Laird.” The word “homicide” takes a hold of everyone’s attention. Even Melissa places her knife and fork down to listen.

  “What’s the story, Susan?” asks the TV anchor, who adjusts her microphone.

  “Things are kind of sketchy right now, Katie, but we have confirmed that two emergency room doctors are dead and two nurses are being questioned. It seems it all took place behind closed doors in one of the observation rooms. There is, however, a bizarre twist to the story. Several nurses were on duty who claim they did not hear a thing. All they can recall is that the doctors and nurses went in, that’s it. One of the nurse’s aides made the horrifying discovery approximately midnight. The investigation is still underway as to why they were all in that particular observation room.”

  “Susan, do they know the cause of death?”

  “It seems one of the doctors is a victim of a stabbing. The other cause of death is yet unknown. We will continue to bring more information as it becomes available. This is Susan Laird reporting to you live from the University of Medicine and Dentistry in Newark.”

  As the TV station switches to a commercial, Sarah’s eyes are still glued to the screen, her jaw dropped wide. She grabs Melissa and shakes her.

  “Damn! Did you hear that? Did you see anythin’?”

  “How would I hear or see somethin’?” Melissa responds. “Because that’s where the ambulance took you yesterday, dummy. Don’t you remember?”

  “Oh.” Melissa nonchalantly shrugs her shoulders and pours salt on her meatloaf. Then she stabs it with her fork and takes a big hungry bite.

  “’Scuse me,” Sarah responds. She eyes Melissa suspiciously, wondering to herself what her friend is hiding behind that knownothing grin. Then Sarah gazes around the room at the other diners, grips her knife and fork, and continues with her meal. Exiting Bess Diner, a warm breeze swarms around them. The sunlight is bright and almost unbearable. It blinds Sarah’s eyes, and she shields them with her hand. Melissa stares up, soaking in the hot beam of the sun.

  As they walk, an aged man dressed in tight Swedish knit pants and a matching yellow shirt steps out from one of the sun’s rays. Sarah and Melissa quickly mistake him for a 70s pimp, his thick gold chain amplifying the blinding sunlight. His timeworn face is filled with ancient character. The deep creases within his tanned face extend his attempted smile. His sudden appearance makes Sarah and Melissa stop dead in their tracks. Slowing his pace, he moves politely toward the two women, trying not to frighten them. He halts directly in their path, eyes shining bright, his body sup- ported by his lavishly designed cane; his hard shoes clank against the pavement.

  “How are you ladies doing today?”

  “Fine,” Melissa says with curiosity.

  “Yeah, we’re cool,” responds Sarah.

  “Miss Shelton?”

  “I don’t know you.” Melissa turns toward the bus stop. “Oh, forgive me for being so rude. I’m Mr. Nicholas, but my friends call me Old Nick.” The man graciously reaches out for a handshake from the two. “I believe we have a mutual friend, a Mrs. Harris. She said she met you this morning when you were released from the hospital.”

  “You mean the lady who gave me the clothes and money?” “That’s the one, sweetie. Look, she and I go way back, so she thought I might be able to help you out with a place to stay for a while.”

  “Why would you want to help me? I don’t know you or her.” In a dubious manner, the old distinguished gentleman gestures lightly, staring directly into Melissa’s eyes. Never breaking his concentrated gaze, he speaks more deliberately.

  “I want to help. I know what it’s like to be out here alone. I have an extra room on L Avenue down Ironbound, and you’re welcome to it. Building 202. Come by later and I’ll show it to you. Are you familiar with the area?”

  “Yeah,” Melissa answers.

  The short conversation takes on a strange overtone. The old man shows a deep underlying concern for Melissa’s welfare. Melissa seems medicated by his voice. Sarah is not so easily drawn in. She never likes being ignored, and this man never looks in her direction. He remains heavily concentrated on Melissa. His eyes cover her small frame with a look far surpassing that of any good Samaritan.

  “Okay...I’ll see you later,” he answers, slowly stepping away. “Mr. Nicholas.” Sarah takes a few steps forward.

  “Yes,” he answers quickly, partially displaying his yellowing teeth. “How did you find us? I mean...we usually hang out downtown.” He replies nervously as if disturbed by the question. “Some volunteers at the mission gave me some places where I might find you. I just got lucky.” Turning away, he and his nifty outfit disappear into the sun’s glare. His strides are brisk and hur- ried. Carrying his cane, he never turns for another glance. As if swept by a gust of wind, he
’s gone. The sudden passing of an Irvington taxicab breaks the women’s thoughts.

  “Wow, that was weird, Missy.”

  “Yeah, it seems our luck is finally changing. I told you. Let’s go get our drink,” Melissa responds.

  “Sure.”

  Watchful eyes keep a close range as they hover above. The two travel back down to their stomping grounds of downtown Newark. Enjoying the spring breeze, their laughter is more reminiscent of high school cheerleaders than of homeless hustlers. The disparity of their homeless lives is temporarily displaced as they approach Home Liquors. Usually a common spot for the locals, today they don’t have to wait in line.

  5

  Later that evening, when the night is clear and beautiful, a dark dreadful haze sweeps the foundation of Home Liquors. This is holy ground to its homeless patrons. No

  place else offers its comforts. Magic can be found within its walls. Here, each bottle contains wish-granting genies. You are not homeless after these genies have their way with you. Have another sip, and you are a wealthy housewife waiting for your Wall Street husband to come home for dinner. Have another and the clutter that engulfs you is transformed into a green backyard filled with children’s toys. Keep drinking and the world is waiting on you to get up. If you are confused or trapped, you will find that these potions will clarify, and the trap will be easily broken. And when you awaken, you can start all over again.

  Melissa lies back on a large pile of old Mad Magazines with a large bottle of Jack Daniels in one hand and a half-smoked cigarette in the other. Today, they can afford the good stuff. Within the shades of Independence Park, Melissa feels safe. She peers into the sky as the night clouds open their doors and allow the full moon to peek through. The stars glimmer as their halos lightly powder the surrounding night. The evening is warm and calm as many of the other homeless stargazers find comfortable corners and awe the mystical heavens.