Inner Horror

by L. A. Tafe

  Suddenly a flood of memories begin to play through my head, night after night Oliver is out of sight, fighting the nightmares that wish to torture me. I see how he received every scar on his face, along with every scar beneath his clothes that I can’t. Countless battles with all of my worst fears; Oliver saved me from all of them. The night I created him is the last to be shown to me.

  In the same room I am in now, a small boy is lying on a hospital bed, strapped down by thick belts. The boy is me.

  The walls are peach, the lights are dim, vile looking clowns surround my bed, wearing scrubs and maniacal smiles. I lash out, struggling to free myself from the straps, screaming at the top of my lungs.

  One of the clowns looks down upon me with a scalpel in his hand, red hair with patches of it missing, his face paint is all white except for two dark red strips going up from his eyes, making him always look mad beyond belief.

  The red haired clown brings the scalpel to my chest, I start another fit of struggling, twisting and turning trying desperately to get free, hoping that any second the straps will snap and I’ll be free.

  The scalpel touches my chest, slicing me right down the middle. With the pain my thrashing becomes wild. Suddenly my legs come free and hope rushes over me. I try to snap the strap above my knees but before I do the cold steel of the scalpel runs down my legs, slicing them from knee to ankle.

  My muscles are torn open, blood drains out till I'm as cold as ice, the pain is so intense. Through my tears I see the red haired clown waving a finger at me, “Stop your fucking struggling, boy.” The red haired clown commands me. I stop thrashing immediately, the clowns command scaring me shitless.

  The scalpel comes back down to my legs, making small deep incisions, my screams echo off the walls, just a littler louder than the clown’s squeals of laughter.

  ”MY turn Chester! A voice cries, nothing more than a squeak. The female clown jumps on top of me, straddling me with her legs. Her head smacks against the overhead light and she lets out a scream of frustration. In one quick movement she throws it into the closest wall, shattering it to pieces.

  I'm shaking just thinking of this woman’s anger and what she will do to me. I feel her shift and can feel her breath on my face. She kisses my forehead and whispers into my ear, “Such a precious child. A virgin in all senses of the word. Innocent. So innocent.” She kisses the top of my nose then my lips. “Let Jezebeth strip your innocence for you.” Her lips are salty and dry and her breath is hot and rancid.

  Jezebeth’s fingers go down my chest slowly, then down my stomach, gently caressing my body all the way down. Even through the thin cotton medical gown her touch is as cold as ice.

  “I thought you would like the lights out for this, no boy should have to see what I plan to do to you.” She says, slicing open my gown at my waist. “Such a nice woman.” A mans voice, it sounds like the one called Chester.

  I feel the woman’s back straighten and can hear her kissing someone, a sloppy wet kiss. Her fingers slip into the tear she made in my gown.

  I cry out, feeling her razor sharp nails slicing into my stomach, blood pours out faster than I can heal, leaving me feeling as cold as a corpse.

  The woman clown moans gently as she grabs my crotch, caressing me gently with her blood drenched fingers.

  Tears fall from my eyes and I can’t stop screaming. “Why! Why me! I haven’t done anything! Please stop!” Her fingers keep moving in the darkness, her nails carelessly cutting into the inside of my legs.

  She moans softly each time I scream for her to stop. I can hear the other two clowns somewhere in the room, laughing hysterically, mimicking my pleas.

  “Please . . . Please just stop . . .” my whimper barely audible. I shut my eyes and silently give up, no longer struggling, just letting her have her way as I cry.

  Hot tears run down my cheeks from my quite sobs, the only sound in the room is her long finger nails clicking together as she defiles me.

  Something warm closes over my hand, a tight reassuring grip. I open my eyes to see a boy looking down on me. The boy can’t be much older than I am and his skin seems to glow in the pitch darkness.

  I blink, not believing my eyes, opening them again to see nothing, no sight of the boy that appeared as quick as he disappeared.

  The female clown bends over me and starts to kiss my neck, caressing me more vigorously as she does. My body is limp, trying desperately to take my mind to another place entirely, but I quickly realize I am already in my dreams, where else can I go.

  Without thinking about it I beg, “Please leave me alone. Just leave me alone. Please” My voice cracks on each word. The woman’s moaning stops. She grips my dick hard as if to rip it from my body

  “You ungrateful little bastard! Do I not excite you, child? Should I just rip your cock from your body? You little faggot!” She screams at me, her anger seeming like it will snap into a rage any moment. And then it does.

  She bites into my neck, her teeth sinking right into my jugular, gnawing for a moment then ripping out the vein and a chunk of flesh with it.

  I feel every tendon and nerve she took with her, the pain is so unbearable I can’t cry out, my mouth just lies open with no sound.

  She spits on me, all the blood and flesh she just took from me hits my face. She gracefully stands and steps off the surgery table. “He’s all yours.” She sneers, “Little faggot.”

  The two clowns laugh and jeer with her, completely ignoring me for the moment. I have No strength to move, pain all over my body, and I am so, so unbelievably cold.

  “Heal yourself,” a voice says. “Just think it,” the whisper adds, a faint whisper, a little boy’s whisper. A hand grabs my own, It’s so warm.

  “This is your dream. You have the power,” the boy whispers to me. His words swirl around in my head. My dream? Power? The words turn over in my head over and over again. My dream. I have the power.

  A light suddenly flicks on above me. I look around the room quickly, seeing that the female and red headed clowns are gone, leaving just one.

  He is wearing a purple jester hat with bells jingling at the tips. His cheeks are white and his lips are a blood red, his eyes are what made me squirm under the restraints. Multicolored at first, but looking closely they are a cluster of snakes of every color, Slithering all over one another, baring their fangs at me, looking into my soul with their tiny eyes, slowly lulling me into a trance.

  I don’t even realize the snake eyed clown come over to me, a surgical saw in his hand, the kind with the motor that spins the small blade.

  I can’t take my eyes off the snakes in his eyes, all of them swirling around like a whirlpool, spinning and spinning like a continuous rainbow.

  The clown opens his mouth, his snake tongue flicking about, loudly hissing at me between his giant fangs. He puts the saw to my arm, just above my hand, revving the small motor making the blade spin incredibly fast.

  His eyes never leave my own, keeping me in his trance. He puts the saw to my wrist, revving hard on the engine as it slices into me, splattering blood all over.

  The trance breaks and I scream out in agony, “Stop! Stop! No!” Bucking hard against the straps that are holding me still, but they aren’t giving at all.

  I faintly hear the boy whispering to me again, panic in his voice. “The saw isn’t in his hand it’s in yours!” I focus on what he said for just a second and that’s all it took.

  The saw instantly appears in my head, the blade still spinning, shredding everything it touches, my bed, my hip, and most importantly the strap keeping my arms pinned.

  I try to move but my body is in bad shape, the pain won’t permit me to move at all. “You don’t feel the pain. You are numb, aren’t you?” The boys whisper echoes inside my head till my body is warm and without pain.

  Before I can enjoy the blissful relief the snake man is upon me, grabbing me by the throat with one hand and wrestling for the saw with the other. I raise the saw to his chest and the spinning blad
e tears into him with ease, covering me in his blood. All is fine for a moment but within seconds his blood begins to burn into my skin like acid. Turn it too water! I think, the burning stops immediately.

  For a second I think about my new found strength and powers, for a moment my boyhood self thinks of superman.

  The snake man clams his hand down on my neck, stopping my breathing entirely. I thrash my head about, trying to break his grip, driving the saw deeper into his chest, the saw vibrating and jarring in my hand, warm blood stains my knuckles.

  The snakes in his eyes hiss at me, all of the colors are gone, every single one of them is now covered in black scales. I begin to grow weak, not able to take a single breath. The saw begins feeling heavier and heavier until I drop it onto my stomach; the blade ripping into me effortlessly as the blade slowly comes to a halt with no one on the trigger.

  The snake man smiles down at me, knowing he has won. My vision begins to go dark, I feel nothing but the snake mans hand squeezing my neck.

  “You have the power!” the boy says, more like a yell than a whisper. I begin to think of the boy’s face, that quick glimpse of him that felt more like a dream than any of my dreams ever have. Through my darkening eyes I can see him standing behind the snake man, a boy that looks no older than I am. The boy waves at me, his hand covered in bright blue flames. He sets his burning hand upon the snake mans back, his smiling face never stops looking at me.

  The snake man turns to ash right before my eyes, Burned to nothing in an instant. Black ashes explode into the air, spreading all around the room. The boy walks to my bedside and looks down on me, a boyish grin still spread across his face. He runs his burning hands over my wounds, burning up the remaining restraints as he went. I am no longer numb. But I'm not in pain either. I look down at my body, not believing that my wounds could truly be healed. But they are. I look up at the boy, in awe. “My name is Oliver,” The boy says, “You’ve made me to be your protector.

  Oliver releases my neck, dropping me to the ground as the vivid memory finally clears my head. I get to my feet to see Oliver standing against a blood stained hospital bed; some of the blood is mine.

  “I’m sorry, Oliver.” I say, “I didn’t know you would be upset. Your just a dream!” I say the last part more for myself than him. Oliver chuckles to himself, lifting himself onto the hospital bed and sitting down. “Just a dream, huh?” Oliver says, looking me dead in the eye. “Is that what you think I am? What you think Lancifer is?” The mention of Lancifer’s name reminds me of why I chased Oliver here in the first place.

  Ignoring Oliver’s question I ask him, “Do you know where Lancifer is?” Oliver nods, “I do. And I assure you, He is no dream.” “And what the fuck does that mean, Oliver?!” I yell, tired of his cryptic tone. Oliver laughs and moves towards the door, “You’ll see soon.” He says then walks out, closing the door behind him.

  I rush to the door, opening it too find Oliver’s black cloak is gone and the hallway completely empty. Through a window at the end of the hall, I can see the sun like light is beginning to fade, replaced by the eerie darkness of night I have grown used too in my nightmares.

  CHAPTER SIX.

  I walk out of the hospital just as the light has completely gone from the sky, replaced by an eerie darkness that sweeps over the park like a fog. In the distance I can hear clowns hooting and hollering followed by pounding feet that grow fainter and fainter, telling me that they are heading away from me, right to where my decrepit house is.

  I run in the direction of my house, passing by clowns that are running in the same direction as me, giddy smiles spread across their faces. What the hell is going on up here?

  When I reach my house there is a crowd of clowns standing at the bottom of the hill it sits upon, all of them desperately awaiting something. Without a second thought I move into the crowd, pushing my way through the clowns without even getting a second look from them. I reach the front of the crowd just as the carnival lights turn on, illuminating everything around.

  I look up at the house, there is nothing new about it, the wood is still rotted, the front door is still in pieces, but I hear footsteps coming down the stairs and a shiver goes up my spine. A voice roars from inside of the house and I know what all the clowns have come to see.

  “I’m Back!” Lancifer drags out each word like a husband announcing his arrival to his wife and kids, in this case, to me and his version of kids. The gathered clowns cheer for their makers return. I hear him coming down the last few steps, the wood creaking under each of his steps.

  I leave the crowd and begin walking up the hill, as Lancifer appears in the doorway, the mere sight of him jumpstarts an anger I have been holding in since his disappearance. With so much rage building inside of me I rush him, running full bore up the hill to rip his heart out.

  Lancifer looks at me and slowly raises his hands to his head, taking off his black hood to show me his face.

  When Lancifer was created he was made in my image just like Oliver, looking nearly exactly like me, but not anymore. Lancifer’s head is now shaved bare, fresh piercings cover his ears, studs, rings, and a large spike in each ear lobe, all of them still coated in wet blood. A large stitched up cut spreads from his eyelid to the lower part of his cheek. Black stitches crossed back and forth through it.

  “Happy to see me?” Lancifer hisses. My mouth is agape and my head is reeling, I know where he’s been. But . . . how?

  Lancifer laughs at me and looks down on his congregation, smiling from ear to ear. His minions are still cheering, chanting his name like cult followers. “Lancifer! Lancifer! Lancifer!”

  My mind is still reeling with my discovery. Oliver’s words play over and over again in my head, not just a dream. He is more than a dream. I am now the dream.

  I run at Lancifer, opening my arms out at the last second to tackle him to the ground. Lancifer side steps at the last second and as I pass he grabs me by the back of the neck, piercing my neck with the tips of his claws and hoisting me to the air for all of his minions to see. “Today is the day we win, my friends!” Lancifer bellows, his congregation goes wild at his words. “No more are we dreams!” The crowd cheers even louder.

  “Through me, we all will live!” The crowd goes crazy, their hands up in the air, many of them jumping with excitement.

  I squirm in Lancifer’s grasp, his sharp talons slicing through my neck as I struggle. “We need to talk.” Lancifer says with a sick smile. He slams me to the ground and drags me inside the house, yanking me up the stairs with ease and into my room.

  Lancifer leaves me on the floor in the middle of the room, knowing all fight has left me, and he’s right.

  My room is littered with beer and liquor bottles, several of them over on their sides with their contents leaking out onto the floor. I get to my knees and take a look around the room, seeing a hole in the wall above my bed where a beer bottle was thrown at it, the glass shards all over my bed.

  “Hope you don’t mind the mess.” Lancifer says, chuckling to himself. With the sound of his laugh a bit of fight returns to me. I sit in one of the chairs next to the table in the corner and Lancifer sits across the table from me against the window. His hood still down, revealing the face that I can’t bring myself to look at.

  Lancifer clicks his claws on the wood table, waiting for me to look up at him before he starts speaking.

  After a few moments his fingers stop clicking and he digs into the wood with his nails. He takes a breath, hot and pissed off. “You know where I have been don’t you?” He says, speaking in a cool tone laced with mockery. Even without looking I know he is smiling at me, knowing he has won.

  “Look at me when I fucking speak to you!” He snaps, reaching across the table, digging his claws under my chin, drawing blood as he pulls my eyes up to his own. I shudder as I see his face, the piercings, the sown up wound, all of it reminding me of where he has been.

  Lancifer sees the way I look at him and his grin returns, “Like lo
oking into a mirror isn’t it?” He hisses at me. “Don’t you like it?” he chuckles. I glare at him without saying a word.

  “I want what you have, Lance.” Lancifer says in a matter of fact tone, “I want your life. And to have your life, I need to get rid of you.” He pulls out a box no bigger than my fist with a small handle protruding from the side and places it on the table. “You are just a dream, Lancifer!” I snap, losing my calm to overflowing fear. “That is where you are wrong, Lance.” Lancifer says, “I am as real as you are. You may have made me but I make my own decisions. I don’t need you.” Lancifer reaches out and begins turning the handle on the box; a jingle plays in the air with each turn.

  I stand and start backing up towards the door, my eyes never leaving the small box. The tone of the jingle gets higher and higher with each turn until the top of the box clicks. Lancifer throws the box to the ground and it lands top up, sliding along the floor to the middle of the room. Blackness pours out of the box, a massive shadow with a half dozen arms and a gaping mouth in the center of its body.

  “Meet Jack.” Lancifer says, laughing hysterically as Jack grabs me and tosses me against the wall. I try to get to my feet and run for the door but the monster grabs me again and viciously slams me to the floor.

  “Jack like’s to tenderize his meat.” Lancifer says, barely able to choke it out between his laughs. Jack spins me around then slams me against the wall next to Lancifer. White-hot pain continues to shoot up from all over my body, leaving me helpless to fight back.

  Lancifer gets up from his seat and kneels down beside me, “I am going to miss you, Lance. I have dragged this on for too long now, I should have done this last night. But now here we are. I have had my fun and it’s time.” Lancifer nods to Jack and the giant shadow picks me up, dangling me above his massive black hole of a mouth. This is it. This is how I die.