The Noir Evil

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The Noir Evil Page 55

by Richard Paul Caird


  Cowles then attempted to refocus his troubled mind by reading the graffiti laden mirror which had a few bizarre comments written upon it such as “Want quality drugs? The Voodoo Doctor has the best in town! For more info contact Mr Goat-Legging’s at the bar!” and “Any unwanted Chickens? Send them to the Kingsbury Conundrum and ask for Little Fish!” The most peculiar graffiti statement however was above the previous two and simply stated with a pair of crudely drawn circular owl eyes above it “The owls are not what they seem!”

  Upon reading this last statement out load Cowles suddenly noticed a distinctly fowl smelling odour within the surrounding humid air and then saw a startling image of pure horror standing directly behind him in the mirrors reflection. A massive black silhouette stood motionless behind him as its indiscernible visage shimmered within the darkened toilet, oddly not divulging the detailed secrets of its concealed wearer. The fearful Cowles remained motionless as the silhouettes two glowing eyes suddenly revealed themselves and this was then immediately followed by a massive talon like hand upon the back of his trembling head which effortlessly pushed his face into the mirror, shattering it upon impact!

  Cowles suddenly opened his eyes to see that this briefly troubling hallucination was simply another fantasy concocted by his inebriated mind as he looked at his troubled reflection within the badly lit graffiti laden mirror. After another paranoid moment the concerned Cowles silently told his reflection to pull himself together and splashed cold water upon his nervously twitching face. He then determined that now would be a good time to leave this depressingly neglected toilet that he had so unwittingly sealed himself within and sighed in relief as he continued to look upon his troubled reflection with a more rationally focused mind. His alcohol-induced irrationality permeated his system on every level until the cold water had pulled him from the abyss of chaotic thoughts and dragged him kicking and screaming back into reality.

  His focused mind now deduced that the deranged doctor would not do anything to him even if he did suspect that he was one of Ness’s undercover Unknown’s because there was too many witnesses around and it did not match the Torso Clinic’s macabre modus operandi to kill in such a public place. Plus he was an intellectually organised killer and would know that if there was one undercover Unknown then there would be more and knowing this gave him the strength and steely determination to finally un-bolt the rusted bolt lock and open the rickety door ever so slightly.

  He nervously peeked out to survey his immediate surroundings to ensure that it was safe to leave because he still suspected that the smart Dr Sweeney might still be observing his unusual actions from a distance. As soon as he did so a shockingly dark silhouette of a humanoid devil like creature suddenly rushed towards him and pushed open the door!, making his already pounding heart race that much more quicker as fear now permeated his entire trembling body.

  This was one of the dreaded nightmare scenarios that he had concocted previously within his troubled mind as the devil like creature came rushing into view as the toilets single flickering light bulb illuminated its hideous details. It revealed itself to be no other than the horn and goat leggings wearing bar tender whom brought with him the discernible smell of overpowering alcohol and body odour as he urgently barged past an unsuspecting Cowles in order to use the now vacant toilet. Cowles was pushed aggressively to one side as the impolite bar tender now came into view and finally spoke “Come on! Come on white boy! Some of us need to take a piss around here you know!”

  The frightened Cowles felt a sudden rush of relief saturate his nervous system as the rude bar tender angrily slammed the door violently shut behind him, determined to utilise the newly vacated toilet to its maximum capacity. As the recovering Cowles stood there in the cramped and dark hallway he took a few deep breathes in to release the tension that was amassing within his trembling body and placed both his troublesome shaking hands into his trouser pockets as he tried to gather his chaotic thoughts.

  A sudden sense of paranoia enveloped him yet again but this time it was regarding the surveillance because he knew that Ness thought that he was enthusiastic and also somewhat naïve and suspected that Ness knew that and he would easily accept this surveillance operation without hesitation. He then thought that perhaps this is what Ness had been counting on, his total unquestioning obedience and that maybe he had some secret information that he had neglected to tell him about?, perhaps knowing that the demented doctor was looking for another vulnerable victim for this night specifically? That would mean that the cunning Ness was simply using him as bait to lure the depraved killer out of hiding and the troubled Cowles then felt his heart sink because he knew how badly Ness needed something to happen within the case and knew that his sacrifice would be a small price to pay for the Unknowns ruthless leader. Cowles attempted to gather these accusatory and paranoid thoughts and brush them to one side because he also knew that Ness used unorthodox tactics in order to bend the rules in his favour but even for him, this betrayal of trust was far too much to bare.

  A sudden involuntary wave of emotional anger and contempt for Ness then crept throughout Cowles like a willing virus that had been awakened from within after being dormant for far too long. This incendiary emotional response had the fortunate by product of giving him the courage and strength to casually re-enter the blood red bar and as he did so, he briefly glanced across the crowded room at Dr Sweeney’s previous location. He thankfully saw that the doctor was now comfortably sitting back down upon his usual stool at the end of the bar and stoically looking down into his nearly empty glass.

  As Cowles made his swiftly staggering return to his usual seat and through the crowded bar, he noticed that the doctor did not glance across at him as he re-emerged which immensely relieved him because it gave him the opportunity to analyse his chaotically constantly alternating environment. As the inebriated Cowles clumsily sat back down he observed that Dr Sweeney was facing a mirrored wall whereby all the drinks and bottles stood and with the absent bar tender using the toilet, he only now realised that the clever doctor could have been observing him from his advantageous vantage point the entire evening.

  The annoyed Cowles felt like a fool because he thought that he had the upper hand on the good doctor and not noticing such an important factor until now was unforgivable within his accusatory mind. His chaotic chain of despondently defeated thoughts where then broken when he suddenly realised that his half full glass of whisky was miraculously gone. He looked across to his right and saw a small group of three African American men whom where now looking back at him and menacingly smiling. Obviously one of these roughens had swiped his drink due to how they were now looking at him and they gave him the impression that they almost wanted to provoke a violent reaction from him and perhaps even start a fight.

  The group awaited his inevitable defiant response but he had no time for their ridiculously childish mind games and simply warmly smiled back at them. The disappointed group looked confused as Cowles then casually got up and staggered his way across the endless red room of crowded drunkards in order to put as much space between himself and the troublesomely unpredictable group as possible. Cowles staggered across the spinning room of confusion as he heard a purposefully smashed glass behind him, to which he did not respond as this was soon accompanied by some jeers coming from the general area of the troublesome group he had just left.

  He finally arrived at the bar and was surprised to see that there was a glass of whisky already waiting for him and, suspecting that the glass was not intended for him, he spoke to the newly arrived bar tender whom he now deduced was called Mr Goat-Legging’s, thanks to the graffiti on the toilet mirror “Hello! ‘Mister Goat-Legging’s’! Hehe! Great name by the way… I’d like another…” But before he could finish Mr Goat-Legging’s silently motioned down to the glass of whisky that had been awaiting his arrival and Cowles unfocused eyes then followed his down to the mystery drink.

  As he focused upon the solitary drink the fran
tically calculating Cowles then spoke again, appearing to be somewhat confused about this entire situation “Oh! No! No! No! This drink isn’t mine Hehe! You must be mistaken…” The irritable Mr Goat-Legging’s then cut him off abruptly with his harsh voice whilst he inspected his splintered multi-coloured baseball bat that had remained hidden beneath the underside of his bar “Nah! He sent it over! He said it’s for the only other white devil who’s got the guts to be here in this blacks only bar!”

  The preoccupied Mr Goat-Legging’s motioned with his head towards a smirking doctor who was still sitting at the other end of the shadowy bar before he then raised his glass into the air, as if he was giving a silent toast whilst continuing to look forward. Cowles was shocked not only because he had not realised that this was a blacks only bar but also because this now confirmed his suspicions, not only about being discovered by the intelligent doctor but also potentially him being lured here as bait by the scheming Ness. The dizzy Cowles then looked again at the ridiculous looking Mr Goat-Legging’s as the bar tender irritatingly investigated the damage that his beloved baseball bat had taken a while ago before Cowles nodded at him to thank him for this newly revealing information.

  By this time Cowles frantic mind was desperately assessing the situation and contemplating how a normal individual would react because it was still within the realms of possibility that he may not have been discovered, regardless of the doctor’s free drink. Cowles decided to continue to play his undercover character and hesitantly sat down and accepted Dr Sweeney’s advances knowing that no one, especially his downtrodden vagrant character, would ever refuse a free glass of crudely brewed whisky. The smiling Cowles then spoke in a calm and positive tone to the doctor as he raised his glass and then downed the strong drink in one massively uncompromising gulp “Cheers!”

  Before the alcohol had even finished going down his already saturated throat he regretted drinking it because it had a funny taste to it which lingered long after it had departed him mouth. He internally cursed his lack of good judgement for being so silly as to accept a drink from the obviously deranged madman and put it down to his still intoxicated and vulnerable state. His worrisome mind was now almost overwhelmed with concern as he frantically speculated how long he had got left before he would eventually succumb to whatever poison the doctor had given him. He could not help but then speculate what would become of him as his panicked mind raced with a cacophony of maddening and horrific thoughts that simultaneously attacked his already overly confused mind.

  He then suspiciously looked at the preoccupied Mr Goat-Legging’s whom he had naively assumed was not an accomplice but now he was having second thoughts about as he desperately analysed him further for confirmation of his troublingly paranoid speculations. He noticed that this peculiarly dressed showman of a bar tender did indeed look incredibly suspicious with his deceitful looking facial features such as his beady eyes and his devilish appearance which expressed an unnatural love for this ill-fated establishment. Mr Goat-Legging’s then noticed that he was being silently probed by the inebriated white patron and angrily placed his splintered baseball bat back underneath his bar and started to clean one of his many dirty pint glasses whilst glared back at the leering Cowles.

  The paranoid Cowles then attempted to continue to analyse his every feature in immense detail as he once again felt his troublesome mind drifting into the awaiting arms of Morpheus. All these contradictory thoughts raced through his confused mind until rationality took over yet again as he thought that perhaps Dr Sweeney did not poison his drink after all and that he was probably overreacting to this entire chaotic situation. He could barely focus as these rational fleeting thoughts when he suddenly felt immensely cold and smelt the familiarly distinctive smell of a warm whisky laden breath and fowl body odour eerily emanating from directly behind him.

  All of a sudden, what little light there was emanating from the surrounding dimly lit bar was instantly blocked out as Cowles suddenly found himself shadowed by something massive. He instinctively used the mirror behind Mr Goat-Legging’s numerous army of bottles on the back of the bar wall to see what was behind him and saw the horrifyingly large and black silhouette of the motionless Dr Sweeney. The doctors round spectacles brilliantly caught the blood red rays of the dim light that echoed around the stifling room, strikingly emphasizing there circular shape and strangely appearing to be reminiscent of an owl’s eyes. Dr Sweeney’s humanoid shape then slowly and frighteningly changed into something else that Cowles recognised as the very same dark and otherworldly manifestation that had so dramatically smashed his face into the mirror only a few moments before!

  Every detail upon this shadowy humanoid creature was indiscernibly black as it unnaturally absorbed the surrounding colour and strangely shimmered within the darkly red shadows that filled the room. The large thing then slowly lowered its head until it was right next to the reluctant ear of the petrified Cowles, enveloping him within an icy cold air that infiltrated his shabbily worn clothes. It then whispered in an unnatural and otherworldly voice which appeared to echo strangely within his trembling earlobes “Well! Here we are! Two white devils within a glorious sea of nigger flesh! Can you smell it? I admit at first it takes some getting used too but after a while it becomes exquisite in its uniqueness. It reminds me of my ‘brown sugar’, Rose Wallace”

  The motionless Cowles then heard a longing sigh, as if it recalled her fear and was somehow feeding from the primal emotion that she must of exhibited in droves just prior to her traumatically painful death. The terrified Cowles sat there motionless in an attempt to play dead like a possum, hoping that if he did not move this unnatural predator would simply leave and go back into the shadows which had spawned it. Cowles contradictory instincts were also however yelling at him to flee the immediate danger as quickly as possible but he just sat there motionless for some unknown and maddening reason as he continually looked at the frighteningly indiscernible visage that greeting his vision within the Slaughter Lambs mirror. This paralysing primal fear of pure unhabituated terror took control of him as his eyes were still attempting to focus and rationalise the monster that he now saw before him within the chaotic reflection.

  He then saw something even more disturbing as the dreadfully unnameable thing then smiled a twisted and malformed grin at him, igniting a sheer terror deep within him that shrieked at him to flee for his very life. He was also confused by the on looking Mr Goat-Legging’s whom appeared to be uninterested in the creature that now tormented him with glee from behind and simply continued to casually clean his pint glass. Then some slimy writhing maggots fell upon the bar and the motionless Cowles’s shoulder, nearby the location of its rancid mouth as it slowly began to open again.

  It then again unnaturally whispered into his reluctant ear and brought with its cruel words the same stench of alcohol and unnatural coldness that it had previously done “Did Ness really think that he could match wits with me? A creature that has walked the sands of time and trodden upon the wings of angels. I am more than a mere mortal man you pitiful meat sack! I am the god of depravity and the defiler of sanity! But I cannot expect an insignificant ant such as yourself to even begin to comprehend or conceptualise my greatness so let me show you my beloved beautiful brown sugar, my black Rose in all of her suffering glory! LET ME SHOW YOU!”

  The unspeakable abomination then instantly grabbed the top of the petrified Cowles’s head with its massive hairy claw like hand and suddenly he saw Rose Wallace’s screaming face within his warped mind. Her blood covered face screamed in pain as a pair of massive talon like hands ferociously pulled at her still attached head. Rose’s wide eyes frantically looked around in fear as she slowly succumbed to the traumatic pain that she had been enduring for hours previously. She desperately looked around for both mercy or salvation but there was none within the dark abattoir of the furiously feeding Mad Butcher as yet more blood began to rupture from her open neck veins, coating her face in brilliant crimson red. Her scr
eams became less so as more gargling sounds started to develop and her eyes became vacant as they rolled towards the back of her head whilst precious life seeped away from her. Her head was then gruesomely ripped from her trembling body as the unseen monster laughed manically with pleasure, causing the petrified Cowles to scream in sheer terror “AHHHH!”

  The petrified Cowles immediately got up and staggeringly ran towards the exit of the vile red domain in a desperate attempt to flee the grotesque abomination that was apparently masquerading as a human being. The creature’s unholy laughter followed him as he staggered and fell uncontrollably onto an unhappy patron whom was not pleased and aggressively pushed him onto another ill-tempered patron. He was then pushed continuously around whilst cursing words and laughter followed the escaping undercover lawman as he desperately attempted to flee the dizzying scene.

  He briefly caught a glimpse of the confused looking Mr Goat-Legging’s watching him whilst still cleaning his pint glass in front of the turned away Dr Sweeney before the surrounding angry patrons face’s all seemed confusingly start to swirl around him. He desperately attempted to follow the light towards the open door and ultimately towards his elusive freedom as the angry shadowy crowds that now surrounded him hurled abuse. This was soon followed by a variety of racially charged slurs aimed towards him as well as jeering as the struggling Cowles finally staggered into the moonlit light of the open door and fell down onto the wet and muddy street below.

 

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