Suicidal Intentions: Firing Squad

by J Niessen

  Chapter Four: Nightmarish Places

  Days have passed since the morning of the break-in at Fish & Chips. Brandon opens his eyes, his muscles sluggish and slow to respond, finding himself in a well-lit room where everything glows a radiant white. His brain, however, is alert, and the core of his body feels renewed, perceiving this place as a waiting room for his arrival into the afterlife.

  His memory is fuzzy, unable to recall the circumstances which brought him here.

  A voice (sounding as though coming from inside a box) asks, “Bro. How do you feel?”

  The inquiry has a soft, gentle, caring tone to it; one which Brandon’s heart rejects.

  Some type of recognition software, hardwired into Brandon’s brain, developed from birth, marks the source. Challenging moods develop. “How do my ears use voice recognition?” Brandon wonders. “And how does my mind have the sophistication to process information, take that data, and make the transition from knowledge and understanding, into wisdom?

  “The technology we are equipped with is so advanced! How can one deny that cognitive thought and reasoning’s not part of master programming, characteristic of a limitless Designer?”

  Brandon recalls where his initial doubts stem from: public teachers and TV broadcasts.

  “There’s an architect behind the design of this room; it didn’t create itself. What designed the ability to create? What designed design? Maybe “apes” can be trained into believing that the earth is a chunk of debris from a single explosion, if that’s what the subspecies of our culture want to refer to themselves as. But then answer this question, all you self- admitting primates that teach us of your ignorant ways: Why is it the earth, the sun, the moon, the planets, and every single star perfectly round?

  “I know what’s going on here. The so-called educated have been feeding me lies and polluting me with their self-devised agenda. I remember when their misinformation first began. It started with their corruption over fundamentals. Insisting to us when we were children, in grade school, that it’s okay to act on how we feel. Their moral compass already so messed up they tell you that it’s okay for people of the same sex to love each other.

  “With moral standards deteriorating they infect the ones they have been entrusted to teach.

  “Here’s what I would like to know, all you active supporters of free love: Is it okay for a 45year old man to woo and entice an 18 year old boy? Sure, you say. They are both of legal age. So where do you draw the line and say it’s not acceptable? When the teenager is 17, 16, 15, 14, 13, 12? Once you’ve drawn the line at the point of childhood, why is it considered not acceptable? Why then is it “wrong?” when we’re all just animals to begin with that crawled up out of a pond of scum? How far off we are as a society from allowing those set barriers to diminish? I guess as long as everyone believes we’re just apes, then we’re one step closer to that reality, and perverts can do what they want, with whomever they want…even abuse dead bodies.

  “I’ll tell you what else bothers me, now that I have your attention. When these free loving control freaks say that “mother earth provides.” Brando knows Zeke can hear his thoughts, and continues to stoke the fire that burns as a furnace of anger. It helps to make his soul feel better, seeming to purge the defiling spores collected in his brain, instituted by the curriculum and agenda of the brainwashed socialists inserted into the public educational system.

  “I don’t think so! The earth didn’t create itself. The earth isn’t some nurturing mother. The earth spews natural toxins and hazardous pollutants from its core. The earth is degenerating as it ages. WTF…It’s not getting better! It is getting worse. The earth is killing its prisoners. And the wardens who are in control of this planet are moving their captives toward a colony they have blindly come to embrace…the endless age of destruction.”

  A vast, all-consuming emptiness (which Brandon is akin to) comes over him, by realizing he has yet to escape the clutches of this world. His visual focus strengthens and details of his surroundings clarify. There is nothing heavenly about this environment. He’s still just another slave to a planet that soon will provide a dark, empty, lonely spot for him to cower amidst.

  Contemplating the notion of finally having the priority of his greatest desire ever, reached by having found the means to a lasting and fulfilling relationship, sitting there at his bedside, Brandon’s heart still lacks the reward of fulfillment he’s long desired. It’s the most widely spread, sinister, all-consuming, and superstitious lie ever told. His early mentors had this figured out. That’s why they abandoned him. Deduction offers a heightened awareness: the idea of happiness is a crafted trick to keep your mind fooled into pressing forward. Whatever you think will make you happy, which is centered on things of this world, it will never bring what you seek. This world only provides emptiness, with one devastating disappointment after another.

  Go against common belief and man’s road to enlightenment; that is where you will find the true answers you seek. Brandon’s nauseated by seeing Zeke wearing a pink rabbit costume.

  Speaking from inside a fabricated head, Zeke says, “I brought something to cheer you up.”

  But Zeke’s voice holds promise, and baits Brandon into seeking emotional light; hope to chase out the dark places in his soul. His memories are back. All Brandon has to do is focus on something and that thought fills in the blanks. This extraordinary ability stamps Brandon’s sense of being with a profound impact, as if taking out the last load of garbage.

  “The ability we have to think is so powerful and complex, yet the smartest brains in the world waste this potential trying to disprove the existence of the Creator of that gift they’ve been given. These individuals aren’t advanced primates. They’re less than such; when trying to convince themselves, and all those around them, that we control authority over our judgment and destiny. They are spineless, spewing the allegations that no consequences await misbehaviors.

  It’s unnatural for Brandon to be feeling such bitterness. It goes against the safe haven of emotional restraint and avoidance he’s built in the past. But something is feeding this anger. Something has entered his life, from here in this room. That something is what Zeke brought, saying that it would cheer him up. That something is a Trojan gift. But that something, though it may have sinister influence, is acutely perceptive. Wondering how long he’ll be able to keep it around and learn from it, without losing himself to it, reveals his certain downfall.

  Looking over to the bedside hospital tray, Brandon finds a smooth, pocket sized stone. He knows the name of the relic by the power that’s emanated from it…since it was brought into this room. Now the artifact is empty. Its supernatural contents dwell with Brandon. Zeke removes the large, fluffy-pink rabbit head showing dark circles under his eyes, and the sinister gaze operating behind the windowpanes of his stare.

  “I just got this suit back from the drycleaners; figured it would help cheer you up.”

  Brandon makes an effort to show a smile; wanting to get beyond the nausea building as overbearing thoughts accumulate inside his mind. A graphic vision plays out of what went on with that pink mascot outfit, before Zeke even explains.

  “You know that night we were brought in for questioning?”

  Brandon blinks twice to answer yes, wanting to shake his head to stop Zeke from detailing the happenings of that night. Brandon’s heart races, it pounds violently from inside his chest, thinking about Frankie and the cup of punishment he’s drowning in. Brandon should feel pleased by this vengeance, for what Frankie did to her, as he recognizes the extent of that lonely man’s crimes and the severity of his situation, as lasting consequences sweep over him.

  During Zeke’s investigations he learns of his arch enemy’s (Frankie’s) sick and twisted fetish to dress up like a stuffed animal. How he goes to parties where other affiliates dress in the same fashion. There they engage in explicit behavior, representing the demented a
nd perverse mentality they pamper and feed.

  Brandon wants to yell out “Stop” not only to Zeke but to the ideas in his mind.

  “I have to say I had the most dominant costume,” Zeke boasts. “Picture a feral white rabbit, with monster like claws and feet, with a frenzied face, wide-eyed with madness, and a gaping mouth lined with vicious teeth. I added my own touches when I strapped on…” Brandon makes an involuntary, god-awful gagging noise. Zeke’s face saddens, detecting his friend’s displeasure. Zeke sets aside the graphic details, moving on to more important matters.

  “I know it. I feel it. Everyone in this place when I enter it wants to be involved with me because they are the epitome of depravity. Inside they are just as wicked…as the outside of my costume appears. They want to be controlled by a monster. To experience what a monster would do to them. By becoming a part of that heightened experience they’ll learn how such a creature behaves. And if they survive that aggressive attack, they would certainly metamorphosize mentally into a more powerful beast themselves. One spreading that sickness they gained, on, to their other victims, thus feeding the unsatisfied evil inside them. Wanting to becoming the dominate ruler of this twisted environment they dwell in.”

  A spew of liquid splatters against the hospital floor as Brandon turns his head and vomits.

  Pausing, Zeke wonders if he should ring for assistance. Finding that Brandon (still lying in his hospital bed) is now wide-eyed and alert, with his head turned back around he goes on.

  “But there was more to this place I went to, than just some sadistic fetish frenzy. That’s how I found that priceless stone I’ve given you, and why that piece was there. I did a bunch of research on it. It’s a class 3, a type 2, or category 7. The influence you’re feeling inside you is an ancient remnant that dwells over me, Brandon. It’s an evil force of power which knows me better than I know myself. It has monitored and observed many like me since the dawn of time. It’s giving you insight into my life, isn’t it?”

  Zeke dwells on Brandon’s facial features, confirming his suspicions, then finishes.

  “That stone is a conduit. Right now, I’m learning things about you also. I know what things make you upset, and what to say to overcome your convictions. Even greater is the fact of knowing that fear is a powerful means of gaining an advantage. Imagine the ability to make a person you are talking with feel disappointed; knowing how to subdue an individual by inflicting humbleness in their heart.” Zeke’s speech has a hold over Brandon.

  Brandon clenches onto the metal bars of his hospital bed. Resolution to his unanswered question is approaching. It comes in the form of an awful hallucination. It’s worse than any dark lonely night he can remember. There is a mutual bond between these two boys. Now Brandon wishes he would have kept quiet at work. The nightmares involving the people in Hell are back. It’s time for Brandon to find out about the nightmares Zeke was keeping a secret.

  Maybe it’s the power of the stone, or the ancient force that hangs over Brandon’s body like a purple sheet of falling rain. His stomach convulses while his mind seems to detach from his body. He hovers as nothingness amongst a black void. Blazing starts descend from all around him. The shooting objects are not massive chunks of heated space rock. They are celestial bodies illuminated with a bright-yellow glow. Their voices cry the worst sounds one could ever hear as they scream to earth.

  There is a rustic, dark-grey colored house. There is a teenage girl holding Brandon’s hand. She is leading him but they are walking backwards. Then they are lying on a filthy mattress together. It forms into the shape of a couch that they sit close together on.

  “Did you want to stay and go somewhere?” Miranda asks Brandon.

  “I’m not sure I want to go outside, Miranda.” Brandon recalls the dark lonely apartment of his adolescent years, and the emptiness that dwelt beyond it. There he never wanted to move about, because then he would be occupying greater darkness. “Maybe you’re the one I was searching for,” Miranda admits to Brandon. In her heart she feels extreme emptiness.

  “Is it always so cold here?” he asks.

  “Only when your hand is on my heart,” Miranda responds. Brandon is shocked to find his palm held to her pale chest, ice particles forming around his fingers. His hand won’t retract and the chill has fastened him in place. Her body draws his arm in by his wrist, then forearm, pulling him closer to take over his head and mind.

  Before he’s overcome he snaps out of the nightmare, cold tears streaming down his cheeks, believing in that frightening moment his life was approaching a horrendous ending.

  “Did you enjoy yourself?” Zeke sarcastically asks.

  “I don’t want to do this anymore!” Brandon wishes he could rebuke Zeke.

  “I know you feel powerless,” Zeke admits. “You realize you brought this on yourself Brandon. In your heart you know there are other ways to find peace and contentment. But you’re selfish, just like the people who you let use you. You have found your usefulness in this world, by letting others use you. That’s your idea of love, isn’t it; giving in to them completely. You’ve created your own version of happiness, at the expense of your pride and self-esteem. It’s how you feel important, isn’t it? If someone needs you, then you feel you’re in control. The more they force you into doing something, the more power you think you have over them.

  “Work on getting better. More pathetic people are out there who we need to make hurt. Our job is to cause the loss of their identity. We must devour the prestige they have built up within society. You are the one responsible for feeding the monster sleeping inside me, Brandon. Remember that! Now it’s time see what creature sleeps inside you. Be the one who uses the abusers. Seek the scum of this earth. I know what your creature hungers…to squeeze out the tears of the wicked.

  “Are you still proud of the dreams you have?” Zeke dares, reaching over to take the talisman. “Start by getting to know the powers that slink in the bowels of this building’s dungeon.” Brandon imagines the boiler room, and the sickening secrets Jeffery Hopkins stows down there. “Retrieve your talent pen to write your dreams down with,” Zeke ends, placing the stone into Brandon’s hand. Putting the fuzzy pink rabbit head back on, Zeke turns to leave.

  “The forecasters say a heavy storm is rolling in, Brandon,” Zeke tells him with his back turned. “Oh. And I figured out what makes our minds so strong. There’s a chemical we release from our Pituitary Gland. When it’s metabolized by our liver it produces IGF-1, causing insight through our dreams.”

  Brandon now understands the purpose behind this new journal gripped in his hand. It’s designed to survey and gather man’s wickedness. “Hello, Dr. Hopkins,” Brandon hears Zeke greet from outside his recovery room. The doctor enters to perform Brandon’s examination.

  Frowning, Brandon’s physician asks, “What’s that you have there?” after pressing the service button to have a staff member come in and remove the stomach bile Brandon puked up.

  The polished rock feels cold in Brandon’s hand, like the bitter freeze Miranda felt like. It’s as if he were dwelling in a halfway portion of reality, between this world and the one he visited Zeke’s girlfriend in. Clear ooze drips from the pores of the doctor’s face, thick like petroleum jelly. “Maybe this presence will attach to Jeffery, and leave him alone,” Brando wonders. Responsibly is associated with the governing force of the talisman. Brandon fears extensive involvement because of the safety risks he will have to face, doubtful of his return.

  “How can doing tasks for this living journal benefit him anyway?” Brandon questions silently in front of the doctor. A powerful response comes from the dark spirit.

  It delivers an invigorating sense of alert, crisp excitement (similar to that which he experienced in the mall). This stone can offer fulfillment, Brand realizes. It can supply what he’s always hoped to find. It’s the next life offering, his new talent, having exercised
his original gift to the best of his abilities. Brandon hands the stone over to Dr. Hopkins for inspection.

  The purple creature that falls like rain all around Brandon dries up. A demon of worldly gorging manifests, the being approaches his hospital bed cautiously, with reptilian features. It is a presence which only Brandon can see. With a sudden strike it mentally consumes him.

  In that moment Brandon faces the most daunting task one could ever face, knowing he will have to sacrifice his mortality for the benefit of mankind. It will be up to him to bring back those sufferers who died before him, and to release the harbored captives from Hell’s depths.