Inner Horror

by L. A. Tafe

  “I didn’t hurt her!” I yell at him, not able to keep my mouth shut.

  He backhands me across the face before I can say any more, catching me with his wedding ring, drawing blood just below my right eye. I feel the sting of the cut and lose it. I grab him by his shirt, pushing him hard up against the wall, following through with a fist. The blow connects and I feel a rush of warmth wash over me.

  He recovers quickly and punches me back, catching me just right and I fall to the ground, my vision going in and out. I hear the door open and bring my head up to see my mother, no doubt she’s been right outside the door this whole time.

  “Tim, are you okay?” She asks Dad. He doesn’t answer her, just looks at me with enough scorn to kill. “You are an embarrassment.” He says, slightly out of breath. “I want you out of my house by tomorrow morning. I don’t want to even see you.” Giving his look right back, I nod my head slowly, wanting to get the fuck out just as bad as he wants me out.

  My parents leave without another word, I hear my mother fussing over how my dad is bleeding and I smile slightly. I get up from the floor, feeling light headed as I do and sitting back down against the wall next to my bed. I rest my head up against the wall and try to figure shit out. The whole day has been such a clusterfuck.

  Inevitably I keep coming back to the same thought: What do I do now? The question swirls around my head, being turned over again and again. How did my life get so fucked up? This question hurts but not as much as the one to follow. Is Amy okay? Is she safe? I bang the back of my head against the wall in frustration. I search my pockets for my phone, hoping to find some sort of answer to my question.

  Shit. My phone, wallet, and keys are all gone. I try to think about the last time I had them and realize I never got them back after the police station. They must have given all of my stuff to my parents. I’ll have to get it on my way out.

  I stand up and go to the closet, pilling in clothes, some cash I keep hidden away, and an unopened bottle of whiskey that Lancifer was kind enough to leave for me hidden under some dirt clothes. All else fails I can get drunk. Is my rational. The pathetic thought makes me laugh but I pull the bottle out and take a big gulp before tucking it back in my bag.

  The burn of the alcohol feels good against my throat, reminds me I'm awake and not in my hellish dreams. I walk over to the TV, turning it on with one of the buttons on the side and finding a channel before I sit down on my bed.

  With the cushion of my bed beneath my body’s exhaustion hits again like a wave crashing onto shore. A stupid animated comedy plays on the screen, a rerun that I have seen time and time again. I blow out a long breath and let my eyes close for just a second.

  I jump awake, realizing I must have been asleep. I begin to panic, checking the TV to make sure I wasn’t asleep long. To my relief I only missed a minute or two of the show and couldn’t have been out long.

  I stand up to go to the TV and turn up the volume up, hopefully I wont fall to sleep with the TV blaring. But I stumble as I stand, falling back on the bed like dead weight. What the hell?

  I look around the room and it is slightly spinning, causing my stomach to turn. Next to me in the bed I see the bottle of whiskey and half of it is gone. Wasn’t that in my bag?

  I pick up the bottle and study it for no reason. “Didn’t I leave you in my bag?” I tell the bottle. Did I just talk to the bottle? I think to myself, laughing slightly.

  You should take another drink. My mind tells me and I can’t help but listen. I take another swig from the bottle, the whiskey tasting better and better.

  Before long the stupid show on TV begins to get a little funnier. The show ends and I try to go to the TV to change the channel, finding it almost impossible to walk while the floor keeps moving beneath my feet. “Whoa!” I laugh as I stumble to the TV, realizing when I get there that there’s another episode of the stupid show coming on. I nearly fall on my ass several times before I make it back to my bed, flopping myself down on the mattress, giggling as the springs screech under my weight.

  You will feel even better with another gulp or two. I laugh at how my brain is talking to me and take another long drink of whiskey, the bottle almost empty now. I barely know where time goes or what has been playing on the TV but I decide I’ve lingered here long enough and I need to go.

  I stand up slowly and try to take a step, tripping over something on the floor and stumbling across the room, catching myself on my desk, laughing hysterically the whole time.

  Doesn’t it feel good to be happy? Finish up the bottle. I’d love to finish up the bottle and begin looking for it. “Damn.” I say out loud, I left it on my bed. I stumble to the bed, reaching out for the bottle and just letting myself roll onto the bed. I lay on my back, tipping the bottle straight up till I’ve drained all of it. It doesn’t burn on the way down anymore.

  My laughing stops and my bed gets too comfortable to resist. When did I get so drunk? I ask myself as the bottle of whiskey shatters as it slips out of my grasp and onto the floor. Why did I get so drunk?

  I hear laughter but I know it isn’t mine, it’s Oliver’s and he looks so excited, his smile is terrifying. A sharp headache hits me just before I fall asleep.

  “Fuck! Fuck!” I yell, knowing I’ve just been tricked. I stand from an old rickety wooden chair, my chair, finding myself standing on a hill of rubble with the carnival surrounding me on all sides. This is where my house was.

  An eerie silence has taken over and the park is completely desolate besides the random fluorescent light blinking on one of the rides. Fog has rolled in, a thick wet sheet that covers the ground up to my knees. “OLIVER!” I scream, the word echoing throughout the empty carnival, adding to my unease. A part of me knows he isn’t here, a small scared part of me knows exactly where he is; the rest of me is in denial. If Oliver isn’t here then who is? Jezebeth? Are all the clowns hiding, just waiting to spring an ambush and try to drag me down to the hole Lancifer is trapped in? Is Lancifer here somewhere?

  My questions are answered by distant screams for help, sounding a whole lot like Dream Amy. I wait a moment, just listening. “Help me!” I hear faintly. Definitely Dream Amy. I wait for another scream of terror before deciding which way to go. I’ll help her all right. The same warmth that calms my nerves and drives me forward comes back, numbing my nerves, dampening my panicked thoughts. Time to deal with Dream Amy. Oliver will get his soon.

  I turn to my wooden chair, shattering it with my thoughts. Picking up one of the bigger remaining pieces, snapping my fingers to light the tip, making a torch.

  I walk down the hill and into the sprawling carnival, heading in the direction I continue to hear Dream Amy’s screams, relishing each one.

  I wade through the thick fog, disliking it more and more. “Please help me!” Amy screams, this time louder, telling me I'm getting closer.

  I search every ride I pass with my eyes, , merry-go-round, a giant pendulum with a Viking ship attached at the bottom, a disk that spins while inverted, each of them covered in lights with only a handful of them flashing, waiting for a clown to pop out and attack me. Where the hell are all of the clowns?

  Another of Amy’s screams rings in the air, a pained shriek that could only be brought on by torture. I’m getting close. I catch something out of the corner of my eye, something small moving fast through the fog. I wait, watching the fog intently. Scanning continuously for any movement at all. A light flashes on one of the carnival rides and I swing my torch in the direction, hitting nothing but fog.

  I stay on guard, moving towards Dream Amy’s cries, hoping to leave whatever is in the fog behind. I take a turn and past a massive fun house and see off in the distance a massive contraption, a never ending spiral of rails twisting into the sky as high as I can see, passing into the dark clouds and out of sight. The spiraling rails hang in the air, floating and swaying like a slow moving snake. It’s a roller coaster!

  I gape at the massive metal serpent for a moment longer before anoth
er of Dream Amy’s screams ring out, really close this time. Her scream is filled with terror but its weak. She must be close to death.

  I lower my eyes from the floating roller coaster and focus on the path ahead of me, catching sight of something ahead of me as I do.

  Small red eyes peer at me from the fog, just twenty yards ahead of me. I tighten my grip on the torch, making the flame burn bright hot, ready to fight and kill.

  The red eyes move slowly through the fog towards me, watching me the whole time. I take a deep breath and blow as hard as a hurricane, blowing the fog back away from the red little eyes. Standing just a foot and a half off the ground is a tiny Jezebeth with red glaring eyes, dressed in miniature versions of her clothes, a crazed look on the things face.

  Without a second thought I bring the torch in front of my face. Blowing on it hard, spewing the fire forward like a flamethrower, engulfing the little Jezebeth in flames. A childlike scream comes from the things mouth, not in pain, but laughing; a little girls giggle. I move the torch and wait for the flames to die out, revealing a small porcelain doll where the Jezebeth was, its clothes, hair, and makeup burned to nothing by the flames.

  The naked doll cocks its head and shrieks at me, baring its razor like teeth, then moving with incredible speed into the fog. Something runs at me from the right and left, too quick for me to react. Pain shoots up my legs from the back of my feet and I fall to the ground, my feet unable to support me.

  Little girl’s laughs ring out from all around me, maniacal cackling that makes my blood go cold. I try to stand, digging a foot beneath me trying to rise. But pain shoots up the back of my leg and I fall to the dirt. I reach down quickly, feeling blood pour from the back of my heels. My tendons are sliced. I heal one of the wounds with a touch, the pain replaced by numbing warmth.

  Before I can heal the other, a small Jezebeth attacks me, jumping onto my chest, plunging a small serrated knife into my chest. Pain shoots from the stab, spreading across my chest like a fire. The small Jezebeth laughs in my face, pulling the knife from my chest to stab at me again. I bring up a hand and grab her by the neck, launching her through the air just as the blade pierces my flesh. I hear a crash a few yards away, sounding like a plate smashing on the kitchen floor.

  Gasping for air, I claw at my chest trying to get the knife out. I yank the knife and heal myself at the same time, finally taking a full breath and coming back to my senses.

  Several pairs of eyes close in on me from all sides, all of them giggling as they surround me. One of them pounces, latching onto my chest, trying to gouge my eyes with her tiny fingernails. Without a second thought, I grab her by the nape of her neck and squeeze till her porcelain head shatters in my fist.

  I get to my feet, still limping on one leg, and look around for my torch, finding it a few feet to my right; two dolls are fighting over it. I make the torch come to my hand with a quick thought, forcing it from the little hands of the fighting dolls, tearing them clean off with a loud crack.

  Through the fog I can see dozens of dolls coming towards me. off in the distance, beneath the towering roller coaster rails, I see a trail of thick smoke rising into the sky, no doubt where Dream Amy is. Deciding there is too many of the little bitches to take on at one time, I heal my injured foot and begin running towards Dream Amy’s last scream.

  Every dark corner I pass comes another one of the damned dolls. Little girl’s laughs ring in my ears as dozens of them chase me, each one of them with small knives in their tiny hands. These things wont quite!

  I continue sprinting, following the trail of smoke in the sky, Dream Amy has either become to weak to cry out or she is dead.

  I come out of a cluster of rides and spot the base of the massive roller coaster, the area lit up by a bonfire burning tall and bright. Out of nowhere a doll jumps onto my back, putting a knife between my shoulder blades, ripping the blade out then stabbing me again and again in the same area. Pain shoots through my entire body, making me fall to a knee for a second as I soothe the pain instantly with a thought. I reach back and try to grab the doll but can’t reach her. I cringe each time the blade goes in and the pain returns for just a second before I dull the pain.

  I begin to run; knowing if I don’t keep moving the others will catch up. As my feet pound I feel the doll slipping down my back. I reach back and grab the little bitch by the foot, slinging her away and into the nearest carnival ride where she smashes to pieces with a satisfying sound. I pick up my pace towards the bonfire, seeing a silhouette in the distance.

  As I get closer I see the real Jezebeth standing next to the fire, the flames casting shadows upon her pale skin. In her hands she holds two iron rods. Fire pokers. No doubt what she has been torturing Dream Amy with.

  Jezebeth smiles at me, fresh blood covers her face and her clothes, Dream Amy’s blood. She walks slowly over to the base of the tracks, massive metal rails that are bigger up close than I had expected. On the tracks is a massive steam train with Dream Amy strapped to the front. She is in rough shape, half her hair is torn out and she is naked above the waist. Bloody, seared holes all over her chest and stomach, no doubt caused by the fire pokers. I may want to kill her but seeing her, someone that looks just like my Amy, stops me in my tracks and makes me weak at the knees.

  Jezebeth turns to me when she reaches Dream Amy. “Like what you see?” she yells to me, a sadistic smile stretched across her girlish face. She moves to Dream Amy and stabs her with both pokers right through her chest, adding two more charred holes to the collection.

  Dream Amy lets out an ear shattering squeal for a moment then goes quite, her mouth still stretched wide as if trying to scream but can’t.

  Jezebeth laughs at her, dragging one of her talons down Dream Amy’s face, bringing the talon to her face to taste the blood.

  All around me the dolls began to surround Jezebeth and I encasing us in a circle of red beady eyes. “Did you like my little friends?” Jezebeth mocks me. I don’t reply, just watch her, waiting for my chance to strike.

  “This little girl has been quite bad, don’t ya think?” Jezebeth says, turning to face Dream Amy. “First trapping Lancifer, then stealing his body, and now look at you,” Jezebeth grabs the pokers and yanks them from Dream Amy’s body. “Won’t ever have the chance to do it again.”

  Jezebeth motions towards the cab of the steam train. The train lurches forward and out comes one of Jezebeth’s dolls from the cab, hopping onto the ground grinning at Jezebeth. “So long my dear!” Jezebeth yells to Dream Amy as the train slowly picks up speed down the tracks. Jezebeth looks back at me with her devilish grin.

  “This track only goes so far,” she says clicking her talons together, “Hope you didn’t have anything to tell her.” I watch the train begin to climb up the first spiral, “Nope.” I retort. Good riddance. As soon as I reply, Dream Amy cries out, “Please help me . . . Oliver made me do it!”

  “Oliver?” I mumble, more to myself than to Amy. Amy begins screaming for help as the coaster begins to climb up higher and higher, picking up speed as it goes. As much as I’d like to see whatever Jezebeth has planned at the end of the tracks, Dream Amy has answers I need. Then I can kill her.

  “Loud mouthed bitch needs to keep her mouth shut.” Jezebeth says, “You can’t save her. Worry about yourself.” Jezebeth pulls a giant silver revolver from behind her back, aiming the barrel right at me. Jezebeth’s sneer turns to a smile as the first bullet hits me dead in the chest, knocking my right out of me. A second bullet hits me in the shoulder and sends me flying backwards to the ground.

  I hear the giggling of dolls as I lay on the ground, the patter of their feet on the dirt tell me they will reach me any second. I try to stand but my body won’t allow it, the burning pain from the bullet holes is crippling.

  Knives and little hands assault me, grabbing at my hair and stabbing me in the back. I thrash about, trying to beat them off me, but for every one I throw off another two replace it. Dolls continue to pounce on my back, driv
ing my face into the dirt. Plunging their knives, the squeals of a dozen children ringing in my ears.

  Blood drains from my body steadily and as hard as I try I cant numb all of the pain, putting me in utter agony. The dolls continue to giggle as they stab me, one sharp pain after another. I keep getting colder and colder as the blood is siphoned my wounds.

  With my face buried in the dirt I faintly hear what must be Jezebeth’s voice and all at once the dolls drive their knives into my back, making me convulse in agony, pulling my face from the dirt and yanking my knees up. The dolls pull out their knives, driving me into another fit of pain, and leave me in the dirt writhing in anguish.

  Jezebeth laughs, “How does it feel?” She asks venomously, following up her words with a kick to my ribs, the force of the blow sends me rolling in the dirt.

  I lay there motionless, wet with my own blood and trying desperately to sow up all of the wounds. Somewhere in the sky I can hear Dream Amy’s faint screams. I cough up blood and the two bullets rattle in my chest feeling like they are tearing up everything around them. I roll over onto my back after the wounds heal, the pain still there but not quite as bad. I lay there, looking up at the sky. Seeing the spiraling roller coaster above me, it just goes on and on into the dark sky. Amy’s train is out of sight but her hysterical screaming tells me she is up there. Somewhere.

  Jezebeth walks over to me with her massive revolver in hand. “Do you like it, boy? I made it just for that troublesome little girl.” Jezebeth says in her cold child like voice. “You think I give a shit?” I cough up more blood, “you saved me the trouble.” I wheeze.

  Jezebeth moves quicker than I can see, kneeling over to get face to face with me. Her eyes so empty, so lifeless, so inviting. “Stupid boy, you really think she would have hurt your little bitch?” Jezebeth says, laughing at me. “She is weak.” She pauses for a moment and brings the revolver to my head. “She couldn’t help herself with Oliver whispering in her ear.” Whispering? Oliver?