Musings From A Demented Mind

by Ailes, Derek

  Alice pulled the gun out of her right cowboy boot and fired a couple rounds at it. The creature quickly dashed away from the diner and into the forest.

  “We better find a place to hide away from here,” Tara suggested.

  “My hotel is down the road in walking distance,” Dean said.

  “If we’re lucky, we’ll find a car there that is working.” Alice led them out of the diner ready to fire another round into the creature if they encountered it.

  As they followed the road leading in the opposite direction of the forest, they spotted a car that had crashed into a tree. The driver had been flung halfway through the windshield. His head was ripped open with his brain missing.

  “Where is his brain?” Tara asked disgusted.

  “When I saw it walk past the diner, it was holding four brains,” Alice said.

  Tara screamed as she saw the creature rushing toward them.

  Alice shot the remaining bullets at the creature’s head. It fell forward landing in front of them. Alice slammed her boots on its head repeatedly until its greenish blood was gushing everywhere. “That’s what you get for messing with a Russian!”

  From the distance they could see a large fireball rise above the trees. It hovered in midair for several seconds before it began to head in their direction.

  “Run!” Alice shouted, running for the hotel.

  The fireball flew past them and crashed into the hotel obliterating it. They stopped running and watched as a creature, twice the size as the one they just killed, walked out of the fiery blaze. It looked over at them and screamed out so loudly they had to cover their ears. It slowly moved toward them limping.

  “I think it’s hurt,” Dean pointed out.

  “What do we do?” Tara asked.

  “We run back toward the forest,” Alice ordered and grabbed her arm.

  They ran for the forest as the creature slowly chased after them. They passed the diner where the remaining diners were lying inside dead with their brains removed. They entered the forest and ran until they came to the cabin.

  “There may be something inside we can use,” Alice suggested and led them inside where the two cops lay dead.

  “The carnage,” Dean said as he grabbed one of the flashlights off the floor.

  They walked into the kitchen where a couple of rifles were sitting on a large gun rack made out of a deer’s antlers. Alice handed one to Dean and grabbed the other one. On the table were several boxes filled with bullets. Tara grabbed an ax which was standing by a stack of firewood.

  “Aim for its head,” Alice instructed.

  They heard a noise coming from the front of the cabin. Alice walked out the kitchen and saw two smaller creatures similar to the one they killed earlier. She shot one of them in the head. The other one ran toward her. Tara swung the ax implanting it into its skull. It fell backward dead.

  “How many of them are there?” Alice asked, looking at Tara.

  Dean cautiously walked onto the porch.

  “Do you see anything?” Alice asked.

  Before he could answer, his head was sliced off and it rolled backward into the cabin stopping at Tara’s feet. She tried not to vomit as his dead eyes stared up at her.

  “Tara, be ready.”

  The creature slowly walked into the cabin limping with each step. It looked at Alice and opened its mouth exposing all of its large sharp teeth.

  “You’re not going to scare me that easily,” Alice said and fired the rifle. The creature slumped to its knees. She walked over to it. It stared up at her daring her to pull the trigger. She smiled and fired. The alien fell backward. She stomped on its head repeatedly until the floor was covered in its blood.

  Tara rushed over to her and put her hands on her shoulders.

  “I’m all right,” Alice assured her.

  “I hope that was the last one.”

  “Let’s not stick around and find out.”

  They walked out of the cabin and walked away from the town until they reached the interstate, never looking back.

  HAUNTED ATTRACTIONS

  James stood before the crumbling tombstones of the Marshes Cemetery, a haunted cemetery down by Bloomington, Indiana. He had read a story about this cemetery in his Indiana Guide of Haunted Attractions and wanted to experience its haunting first hand. He could barely make out the names on the tombstones due to the thick moss and plants which had overtaken them over the centuries. There were still a few hours of light left. He wasn’t afraid of being there at night. He wanted to take some pictures with his digital camera before it was too dark. He snapped a few photos of each of the remaining tombstones.

  A squirrel ran out of one of the bushes and stopped curious about what he was doing. He waived at the squirrel as it ran back into the bushes. He could feel a cold chill causing him to have goosebumps all over his arms. It wasn’t from the wind; it was from something else. He turned around, but didn’t see anything. As quickly as the sensation began, it stopped. Again, he could feel the heat from the hot summer night. As the sun descended and he could see the stars, he walked out of the cemetery and down the dirt trail leading to the main road where his midnight blue Dodge Neon was parked.

  He drove away, stopping at the small convenience store to buy a Pepsi and a king size Reese before returning to his hotel. After eating his snack, he hooked his camera up to his laptop to look at the pictures he had taken. His eyes opened wide as he looked at each picture. In the background of each picture was a white mass that got bigger after each picture he took. He checked the lens on his camera, and there was no dirt or smudges. He continued to look at the pictures using the zoom function on his laptop to make the pictures bigger. As he looked at the last picture he took, he stared in shock. When he made the picture bigger, he could see what appeared to be someone’s eyes in the white mass. Was the ghost that had been haunting the cemetery since it had been first used been there with him the whole time? He could feel the goosebumps all over his body as he realized he had just encountered a ghost. He uploaded the photos onto his Facebook page with the caption: I just captured a ghost on film. Not too long afterward, people were commenting on the post calling the photos fakes, which didn’t bother him since he was used to dealing with skeptics.

  He sat down on the edge of the bed and grabbed the Haunted Attractions book and opened it to the page he had bookmarked the night before. The chapter was about a haunted house in Gary, Indiana, which would be his next stop on his journey to visit every haunted attraction in the United States.

  Little Town Flirt

  Parker slowly walked down the sidewalk with a knife held tightly in his right hand. He could see Delilah’s red brick house in the distance. The closer he got to her house, the more his hatred toward her coursed through his veins. His attention was drawn to a raccoon that stared at him through the unkempt lawn of the abandoned house on the corner of Fifth Street and IN-130 in Wheeler, Indiana. For a brief moment, his hatred subsided and he began to regret his plan to get even with her.

  Looking toward her two-story house in the windy night, he recalled the other day at Wheeler High School when she laughed in his face after he asked her out. She walked away from him, still laughing, and told everybody she encountered that Mr. Nobody had the balls to ask a cheerleader out. The whole day people poked fun at him, and he remembered one of the popular girls pointing her finger at him and saying, while trying not to laugh hysterically, “The comic book loving loser thought a cheerleader would actually go out with him.”

  His anger returned and all thoughts of regretting his decision subsided. He stared at the knife while smiling sinisterly. Oh yes, the bitch has to die!

  He stopped at the edge of her yard. Her bedroom light was on and he could hear music coming from the room. He didn’t see her parents’ cars in the driveway. Good, she’s all alone.

  He thought about how everyday she wore a tight tank-top and shorts, displaying her perfectly tanned body and teasing everybody around her with her flawless ski
n. She was constantly twisting her long, raven black hair with her fingers. The constant “you can’t have me, but I’m going to flaunt it in your face” look she possessed drove him absolutely insane. Deep down he loved her and didn’t understand why a guy like him didn’t stand a chance with a girl like her. It wasn’t fair. He deserved her.

  He thought about yesterday when he was walking down the hallway near the gymnasium and heard her say “Hey handsome, in here.”

  She was standing in front of the woman’s bathroom and was signaling him to follow her inside. As he walked into the bathroom, she pushed him against the mirror and kissed him seductively. She took a step backward and laughed.

  “Do you really think I was going to make out with you? You are such an idiot. I’ve dated every jock that goes to Wheeler. Why would I stoop so low? I may be a whore, but not that type of whore.”

  She skipped out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind her. He could hear her laughing as she walked down the hallway. As tears formed in his eyes, he stared at his reflection in the mirror. Sadness had quickly disappeared replaced by rage.

  Now he stood in front of her house with a knife in his hand ready to exact his revenge. He walked up to her front door and slowly turned the doorknob. To his surprise, it was unlocked. The music coming from her room was very loud. He smiled knowing she wouldn’t be able to hear him coming. He cautiously walked up the stairs. As he reached the top of his stairs, he readied his knife for the attack. He walked up to her door, which had a sign that said “Princess” taped to it. He laughed because there was no way she would ever be accused of being a princess.

  He slowly pushed the door open. She was sitting at her desk in front of her laptop facing away from the door. He held the knife sideways ready to slit her throat. As he grabbed one of her shoulders, her head fell forward hard onto the laptop. The laptop, desk, and carpet were covered in blood and it looked fresh. He lifted up her head and her throat was slit, and there were several stab wounds all over her body.

  His anger was quickly replaced with sadness. Someone else had exacted revenge on his love before he could. He held her in his arms and cried.

  With the music from her radio blasting loudly, he didn’t hear the police sirens approaching or the police running up the stairs toward her room.

  “Drop the knife!”

  Holding her tightly, he looked back toward the two police officers who were pointing their weapons toward him.

  Covered in her blood, he dropped the knife and said, “I didn’t kill her.”

  Master of Discontent

  I’m not sure when I arrived, but I’ll never forget my stay.

  When I found myself in a large cavern, the odorous scent of the brimstone stung sharply in my nostrils. I staggered to my feet, but was immediately forced back to my knees by a large cloud of burnt sulfur gas. When my bloodshot eyes had adjusted to the dimness, I was able to survey the rocky environment. It consisted of rock and active volcanic fire. My position was near the base of an underground cliff. The sheer drop was approximately eighty meters. The ceiling was perhaps three hundred meters above me. It formed a dome at least ten kilometers around. The length extended as far in either direction as could be seen. Scattered within were countless stalagmites and stalactites. Some of the former were burning fiercely and eternally. It was these stalagmites that illuminated the chamber.

  “Good eternity!” boomed a guttural voice behind me. “I’m your host! You may address me as Mephistopheles!”

  I whirled around and there through the fading mist I glimpsed a tall mysterious man. “Welcome to my humble abode. I hope you will enjoy your visit. And now, if you will follow me…”

  His voice trailed off. I must admit, I was dumfounded. This Mephistopheles was a tall, immobile figure. He was wearing a hooded, black cloak and black Russian Cossack boots. A gold link chain fastened with a silver inlay dagger was around his waist.

  “Silver,” he remarked, “is sometimes necessary in controlling our more excitable guests. You shall be assigned to rock and coke detail. Quarry Eight. Since you had a flawless record on Midgard, you are hereby appointed Quarry Master. You’re quite lucky. Most new arrivals are made into carriers.”

  We walked along for a couple of yards when an anguished scream rippled through the heavy silence. Acting as though nothing had happened, my new master continued on the journey toward the mysterious Quarry Eight. Suddenly, another scream rang out. Seeing I was becoming more and more cautious, my companion began to chuckle.

  At last, we came to our dismal destination. A more retched place can’t be imagined. The entrance was nothing more than a three meter square opening in the wall. From it a slope led downward at an acute thirty degree angle. The walls were encrusted with fungus and large splotches of algae. Here and there on the floor were puddles of green slime. An odor of decay heightened the air of despair.

  Then I saw the slave carriers. My God, the carriers were beaten ad starved wretches. Driven to the limits of the unknown, these ragged and forlorn beasts of burden were more animal than humans they vaguely resembled.

  I was to direct these spiritless zombies? My stomach fought to upsurge and I gurglingly lost the battle into the pits. I must find Mephistopheles and demand to be freed from this monstrous chamber of horrors.

  Receiving jumbled instructions, I slowly made my way out. I hadn’t trekked long when I began to wish I had never started out. I began running and then I saw I was involved in some odd cat and mouse game. And I was the prey.

  Following me was a new, unspeakable, nameless horror. Three large, red-eyed bats, dripping red liquid from their slit-like mouths were silently winging above.

  Exhausted, I stumbled past other souls lost in time, other decaying ruined mines, and pools of sulfuric slime. Finally, I picked up a huge rock and braced myself to meet my tormentor.

  A huge mastiff with three foaming heads appeared before me. Was this to be the last thing I’d ever see?

  Suddenly, a cloud of acid smoke engulfed us both. It passed quickly revealing that Mephistopheles had joined us. With a wave of his clawed hand, the mastiff and bats slithered off.

  “Why didn’t you remain at the quarry?” he thundered.

  My head ached severely and I felt a warm ooze trickling down my neck. I probed and found a large hole in the back of my head about the size of a bullet. My mind throbbed painfully. I felt pushed to inhuman limits.

  “In the name of God! What is this place to harbor such horrors as these?”

  “Surely you remember. Or has amnesia set upon your mind?” he said as the truth began to glimmer in my brain. “Suicides are eternally damned to burn!”

  “I remember trying to kill myself,” I screamed, “but I don’t remember anything else after that until I woke up here. Just where in the hell am I?”

  “You see, my friend,” he said, laughing hideously, “that is exactly where you are!”

  Silently, I went back with Mephistopheles following behind me to Quarry Eight to work for all eternity.

  The Kick

  Marty watched as the clowns jumped out of the tiny compact car one after another after another after another. He loved going to the carnival down in Connersville, Indiana. This year they added a circus attraction. He had never seen an elephant up close before and this year he finally had his chance. His younger sister, Lois, laughed as the clowns collided into each other as one of them suddenly stopped to avoid crashing into one of the large elephants.

  Marty’s mom laughed. He had never witnessed his mom having so much fun before. He never could have imagined the circus would bring his mother so much joy. Maybe becoming a clown would be a great career choice. Besides, anybody could be a fireman or an astronaut. He turned his attention back toward the clowns as one of them sprayed the others with a seltzer bottle.

  After the show, they sat down at the picnic tables set up near the small food trucks and ate hot dogs while their mom ate an elephant ear. After they were done eating, their mom gave them some mo
ney to play some of the carnival games while she rested. His sister tried throwing metal hoops onto some bottles while he threw some darts at some balloons in the hope of winning a small square mirror with the Superman emblem on it. After finally winning one after spending several dollars, he walked away to rejoin his sister. He could see her still unsuccessfully throwing the hoops. As he got closer to her, somebody grabbed him and dragged him behind one of the trailers.

  “Let go of me!” Marty said as he struggled to get free.

  “Be quiet or I’ll cut you,” the man threatened. He was a tall man dressed in raggedy clothes. He had a cigar in his mouth and looked like he hadn’t shaved in a couple of weeks. Marty had seen the guy many times during the day. He apparently had been following them the whole time waiting for his chance to grab him. “You’re going to come with me, or I will go after your sister. And trust me, you don’t want me to do that.”

  Marty stopped struggling.

  “Good,” the man said. Before he could say another word, Marty kicked him hard in the crotch. He fell to the ground screaming in pain.

  Marty ran toward his sister. As he ran, he remembered two years ago when his uncle had taught him to protect himself. He had warned him of the dangers of strangers, and that his feet could be one of the best weapons he could possess from being abducted. His uncle, a black belt in karate, taught him everything he knew about karate. Today, those skills came in handy.

  Games

  Malcolm’s heart beat faster and faster as he was lying in the bushes waiting for the games to begin. He looked over at Brayden and asked, “How long do we have to wait for the games to begin?”

  Brayden was dressed in a beige military uniform smeared with dried blood. He had a brown bandana soaked with sweat covering his bald head. He had a couple scars on his face from many fights he had been in over the years. He looked annoyed as he stared at Malcolm wearing his clean blue t-shirt and blue jeans advertising he was a rookie to the games.