The Dark Lord of Oklahoma

by Ethan Richards

Attempting to erase the feeling, Julie shook her head and then walked into the office, attempting to create space from the outside world. Inside, she grabbed a trash sack from her desk and opened her back-pack; she was going to quit. She opened her purse and felt inside of it. There inside the purse was a can of mace, her mom taught her, that if she carried mace in her purse, she could never leave her purse. Remembering this, Julie put the purse high up on her shoulder.

  “What’s my next move?” she whispered to herself.

  She had grown so much, but seeing Sasha with Chance aroused unexpected feelings. Rage filled her heart, but she was not filled with anger for selfish reasons. Sasha was a beautiful woman, but it was not out of jealousy that she angered either. She was angry for Elena's sake; Elena had been so worried about Chance's condition, and now it was apparent what the engineer of Chance's demise was. In the past, Julie flirted with her boss. She had been obsessed with him and had pretended that Elena had not dated him. Elena had mentioned nothing about him, but there had been subtle hints she knew him.

  The pair had an interesting relationship. They were very close friends, but Elena was seven years older, and because of that she sometimes treated Julie like her little sister. While Julie had been very open about her relationships to Elena, Elena had been discreet. In the past, her lack of transparency irritated Julie, and early in their friendship, she had voiced her annoyance. Now, Julie was starting to understand why. Elena was trying to protect her. But if she was trying to protect her, why had she let her be hired by such an apparent womanizer? When Elena had dated Chance, had he always been that way? Did she see him differently from how the world did? Did she find something salvageable in this apparent self-obsessed, womanizing misogynist?

  Julie heard someone at the door, unsuccessfully trying to open it. She walked from her desk towards it. There, in front of the glass door, stood Asher Cries-For-War. He wore a poncho over his upper-body, and Julie could tell he had some sort of tools hidden underneath it.

  His eyes met hers, and she was overwhelmed by his gaze. Then, he turned his head and walked away.

  He had been watching; the Walking Man was always watching.

  He must have seen her drive up, park, and enter the office. Originally the Canton Office had been a failing florist’s shop, before Chance had bought it. Because of this, the front of the office was exposed from clear glass windows; this left the office assistants exposed, but Chance’s office was hidden behind walls and heavy wooden door. Chance’s office was where the money was kept, so it was a sturdy door and walls that kept out the light. While this setup was great for a floral shop, it made Julie feel like the whole world was watching her. She did not want to turn her back to the open glass, because she was too afraid of the Walking Man. Keeping her head towards the street, she took a few steps backwards, until she bumped into Chance’s door. She felt a doorknob poke her in the small of her back. Keeping her head facing the glass, she reached for the doorknob and opened Chance's office and continued her reverse walk.

  Julie noticed that the lights were still on, which was something Theresa never let happen. She slowly turned around and a sudden urge to scream gripped her as her eyes met the terrifying scene in Chance’s office.

  On a dry erase board, Elena’s name had been neatly written over what appeared to be hundreds of times. Next to the names was her picture, roughly taped to the middle of the board. Lines were drawn from that image to certain locations in Henryetta, Wilson Community, and Tulsa. A laminated picture was placed next to each of the listed sites. Henryetta Church of Christ. Tulsa Community Orchestra. Henryetta High School. Red circles were drawn around these names. More names and pictures of people associated with those locations were written on the board.

  Then underneath this map was a graph titled, "Elena's Battle Rhythm." The chart showed when Elena got up in the morning, when she ate meals, went to bed, and even when she practiced her cello. The room spun as Julie’s head swiveled around taking in the scene. Behind Chance's desk were pictures of him and Elena together and some of her alone. The pictures looked very candid, and she assumed Elena did not know they had been taken. On the desk, were assorted parts of a broken down weapon, and cleaning equipment - lubrication, q-tips, and rags.

  Behind the desk, he had a tall, expensive chair. The financial advisor had talked about it before, calling it the "king's chair." It was expensive, and he claimed it helped him close deals.

  The chair spun around.

  There sat Chance.

  "Julie?" he said, as he stood up behind his desk. "What are you doing here?"

  "I-I came to get my things, clearing out my desk-" said Julie.

  "You mean, you're quitting?" asked Chance.

  “I-I”

  Chance hobbled forward, his limp more pronounced. Somehow, within just a few hours, his frame seemed more slender. The sunglasses still covered a significant portion of his face, but now he only wore a glove on his right hand.

  "You can't quit now. I need something from you," said Chance.

  Chance moved towards her. With each terrible step, the man who had once been Chance came clearer into view.

  "Tell me, Julie, where is she?"

  "Who?" asked Julie.

  “Don’t play stupid with me! Elena Doolin! Where is Elena Doolin right now?" screamed Chance, his voice no longer weak, but full of anger.

  "Why don't you just go back to Sasha?" asked Julie.

  “Sasha Ferrell? She was just a distraction.” his head jerked involuntarily, and he gasped with pain. His breath was audible as if he were about to sob.

  Chance took a knee and cupped his head in his hands as he tried to gain composure. He gasped, and Julie assumed he was beginning to sob. He shook his head and refocused on her. Julie could see the intensity of his glare.

  "Tell me where she is!" the stockbroker growled.

  Julie started to run but Chance grabbed her. He may have been frail but he still had an iron grip. Five razor sharp finger-nails penetrated Julie's arm and she screamed in pain.

  "You don't understand. I need her!" said Chance.

  Julie turned her head away from him. “No!” she shouted.

  The black glove grabbed her face.

  "Where is Elena?"

  Julie bit his fingers and a loud shriek came out. Chance yanked back his hand but the glove remained in the clutches of Julie’s teeth. She slapped his face and the black sunglasses sailed through the air. She wanted to slap him again but her hand was caught by his shirt. As she tried to free it, Chance’s shirt tore from top to bottom.

  Chance pushed her back and then looked down at his hands and body. He froze in place and raised his hands up, looking at them as if he had never seen them before.

  Julie screamed in horror, as she finally saw Chance's face. The discolored skin on his face was not a bruise. It was the spread of a green colored rash which engulfed the entire right portion of his face. The discoloration did not look like any bruise Julie had ever seen before. The skin looked like a reptile’s. It appeared to be smooth but was hideous in color. His hand was covered all the way up to his elbow in that same color. For a split second, Chance looked at the dark olive epidermis, in a gaze that Julie could not tell if it was disgust or admiration. Over the tips of his fingers and thumb were thick, black fingernails that curled over like claws.

  Chance stood motionless, staring at the monstrosity of his appearance, before lowering his arms and staring at Julie. Tears flowed from Julie's eyes, as she looked into the red eyes of the creature that once had been Jonathan T. Chance.

  “I only hired you, to stay close to her. I couldn’t let go! Now you are failing in the one thing you were hired for. Where is she?”

  The college student pulled mace from her purse. She thrust the device in Chance's direction and pulled the trigger. A stream of liquid shot out and landed on Chance's face. He fell to his knees and let out a dry heave. Both his hands covered his face and rubbed against his skin. He dug his fingers into his eyes trying t
o pry them open. His natural eye barely opened but the scarlet-colored one opened widely. Julie stared in horror, as the red pupil danced around looking at her and around the room. The hybrid-creature's smirked and began to laugh.

  "It appears my curse is not without its benefits," said Chance.

  In an instant, he sprang forward. Chance grabbed Julie’s arms and pinned her to the wall. She screamed as Chance's grip tightened. The broker opened his mouth displaying his set of teeth that looked like fangs. A shiver ran down Julie's spine.

  Chance's teeth were yellow. The top row showed a set of human teeth while the bottom canine resembled small tusks. Julie's skin burned from Chance's mace covered hands.

  "Stay away from Elena, you monster!" screamed Julie as hot tears streamed down her face.

  Chance froze.

  Julie felt the iron like grip release her biceps. Slowly, he stepped away from her..

  The green-skinned beast returned to his desk. He opened up drawer from his office and began pulling equipment from his desk. Julie still cried, but she could not help but look at him. He pulled out what appeared to be a vest, with multiple high capacity rounds. Chance opened another drawer and pulled out a pistol and holster which he attached it to his leg. Finally, he reassembled the weapon that was on his desk and grabbed a tan hiking bag which he threw onto his back. He grabbed a pair of tactical gloves before picking up his sunglasses.

  "I would never have hurt her, Julie," Chance said as he attached the upper and lower receiver of his assault rifle. "But someone is trying to."

  Chance left the office where Julie sat crying in the corner.

  CHAPTER 19: A DISAPPEARING ACT

  Henryetta, Ok.

  Snow covered the ground. The disgusting mixture of snow and the pollutant covered the area. Orange flames began to grow. The vision repeated. The orange fire engulfed the whole world Somehow, Elena survived. She hid in the rubble of the building from where she watched the destruction. She could hear the weakening hiss of the flames.

  The fire was dying. Feeling safe, Elena crawled out from the hole she had hid. There in the darkness, she saw a figure.

  A sentinel stood looking over the scene. It was a man wearing a poncho which covered his entire body and shadowed his face.

  Elena woke from her sleep. Sweat soaked her sheets. She threw back her blankets and shivered as the cold air brushed against her sweaty body. There was no puppy to distract her. Her dream bothered her even more than its recent repetitions. She wanted to call someone, to hear another person's voice. She picked up her phone and began to dial a number.

  "No service" covered the screen. She walked over to her landline phone and picked up the receiver.

  There was nothing.

  There would be no one to hear her voice. She could call no one. No one would calm her down.

  Elena was all alone.

  Tears spilled from her eyes, as she shook uncontrollably. Walking to her window, Elena pulled back the shades and looked out.

  “Am I still dreaming?”

  Snow covered the ground. The snow was not white, but a rough, unsightly mixture of precipitation and pollutants. She walked from her room, into the guest bedroom and looked out that room’s window. There, high above northern Henyretta, black smoke sifted high into the air. Below the giant cloud of smoke was an orange ball that grew larger.

  "No-no-no, this can't be real," she shook her head violently.

  Elena grabbed her keys, then ran outside and started her car, leaving the house the way it was, and wearing what the clothes she had gotten up in.

  Elena drove from her home, in the direction of Henryetta. She checked her purse. Her loaded pistol and keys were in the car in her bag, and she pressed her hand against her pocket to ensure her phone was there. Unfortunately, from the word of mouth she heard at school, it appeared no one in town had any signal on their phone. An orange van came right onto her bumper and Elena thought it was going to pass. She slammed on her brakes, and threw her arm out her window, trying to signal to it to go around. The van veered as if it was going to pass but then fell in immediately behind Elena.

  She continued driving. The orange van pushed forward again, almost touching her bumper. Elena knew Henryetta roads well. She saw a street and, instead of going straight ahead, she quickly jerked her car to the left. The orange van sped past her. Elena slammed her foot on to the gas. The orange van roughly turned in the middle of the road. Indifferent to those around, it continued to pursue her. It went across the lawn, slamming into a tool shed beside a house. The tool shed door exploded from the impact, scattering debris across the yard. The van kept moving forward in Elena’s direction.

  Elena looked over her shoulder in horror as she saw the van following her. The van accelerated, reaching her car; it came right next to Elena's car, and the van's driver-side pressed up against Elena's passenger side. The two vehicles drove like this for almost one hundred meters before the orange van started veering to the left.

  "Get away from me!" screamed Elena, and she shot her hand into her purse and reached for her weapon.

  At just that time, the van abruptly jerked away from her and then back towards her. It pushed Elena's car off the road into a snow-covered ditch. Elena tried to adjust, but when she did, she over-steered, and the rear of her vehicle spun out of control. Her sedan did a complete 180-degree turn. As her car spun, the wheels dug into the moist ground of the wet snow. She tried to accelerate out of the situation, but the wheels dug into the dirt.

  "What devilry is this?" screamed Elena.

  In front of her windshield came a creature, bent over, he wore all black, with a trench coat that covered his body. The trench coat did not hide the tactical vest that it wore on its chest. A black ski mask covered the figure's face, but it could not contain the bottom row of jagged teeth of the phantom. As the creature came forward, Elena was able to see a customized AK-47 that it slung across its body.

  “Elvinmeyer! Come out of your car!” it cried.

  Elena reached into her purse and grabbed her Glock. She aimed in the figure's direction, and fired, bracing herself, as she knew it was going to shatter the windshield.

  She fired the first round, and the weapon jammed.

  She clasped the weapon with both hands and launched the first round from the pistol. With the handgun raised, she fired. Three rounds burst from the side of her Glock, but the windshield remained intact. She looked down at her weapon and then reached out to the expended shell casing.

  The rounds were emptied shells that had a bent tip.

  Blanks.

  The figure nodded as if to acknowledge what just happened, and came forward. Elena felt her stomach churn as its distorted teeth came more into view.

  Suddenly, the creature slammed into the ground. Elena looked out her driver side window to the figure that now lay on the ground. Black blood seeped from its masked skull.

  She looked away from the dying figure and at the orange van. There stood two characters of similar appearance with assault rifles slung in front of their bodies. They did not display the confidence that the first figure had. They looked at each other, and their weapons began to shake, as they looked around.

  Another figure fell to the ground, as a faint thump of two suppressed rounds impacted its skull. The second figured raised its weapon and fired blindly. The last creature had an AK-47 which had been illegally modified, allowing for an automatic burst. A spray of 7.62 rounds shot out, and it tried to get back into its van with its head bent low. The windows of the orange van exploded, and a burst of rounds shot through the vehicle. All three figures remained on the ground, unable to move. Elena reached down to unbuckle her safety belt, but somehow in the crash, it had malfunctioned, and she could not pull it apart.

  Something black darted past her. Then, the giant head of a Rottweiler appeared above the driver-side window. She pulled again at the buckle, both hands furiously trying to rip it apart. The clasp unfastened.

  The Walking Man.


  There outside of her vehicle stood Asher Cries-For-War.

  He wore a poncho which had been thrown back, revealing a military kit that held high capacity rounds. The three deceased figures wore tactical vests similar to Asher's equipment, but it was apparent to Elena that Asher was more professionally equipped. The Walking Man carried a radio in his kit, which connected to an earpiece. He protected his hands with tactical gloves, and he slung a customized AR-15 across his chest. His face was stern. Without saying a word, he reached out his hand.

  Asher tried to open Elena's door but was unable to. Elena pulled off her seatbelt and tried to crawl to the passenger side.

  CRASH

  A tactical tomahawk crashed the window into thousands of pieces, and the Walking Man reached and grabbed her ankle. Furiously she kicked his hand. Elena kicked three times before he released his grip. Unlocking the door, she crawled out, and then began to sprint, screaming wildly. Elena made it fifty feet, before being slammed to the ground by the Rottweiler. The animal grabbed the back of her shirt and began to pull back. She was terrified by the strength of the canine, as it had already yanked her back ten feet. She turned over and raised her foot in an attempt to land a kick in the dog's face. But, in an instant, the dog grabbed her exposed throat with its teeth.

  It did not clamp down, but she could feel pressure on her throat.

  Asher Cries-For-War ran to her location, and the dog released its grip. Elena violently coughed and then stood up. Asher roughly grabbed her by the hair on the back of her head. The other hand gripped the pistol grip of his assault rifle. He pointed to a tree with his weapon and pushed Elena towards it.

  A sporadic spray of an AK-47 went out, wild, and inaccurate. Elena screamed, but then Asher gripped her by the arm, and the two ran towards the tree. Asher knelt behind the tree, and returned fire. He peered behind the covered position so that only his muzzle and face were exposed. Elena squatted behind him, too afraid to move. The figure and Asher continued to fire at each other, with neither appearing to gain advantage over the other.