As Misty yawns, straight blonde hair falls onto her face. She brushes it back behind her gauged ear and grinds a tattooed knuckle into one tired eye while the other struggles to focus on the never-ending stream of zooming white lines on the highway. "Hey Shirley, is this Prostate Pete and the Tuna Touchers?"
I look at her like she’s crazy, but she’s not crazy. She’s just forgetful, and dumb. "Duh! This was our fucking jam back in middle school! Prostate Pete is the shit." Misty’s car is an uncomfortable, rattling, stink-pile. The radio doesn’t even work. Thank God I kept my old boombox and CDs, if I hadn’t brought them she would’ve passed out and smashed into a tree hours ago. I flick Misty's favorite lighter, the puce one with Betty Boop dressed as a chicken with a machine gun, then fire up the sparkling purple cock shaped bowl (a joke gift that we never actually used, until all the other bowls were either broken or lost) and take a deep hit. The cloud of cheap synthetic weed stings my insides, like it's tap dancing with cleats in my lungs, but it’s almost as effective as the real shit. I hold it in and lean slightly out the window, staring up at the rising silvery summer moon. It stares back in silent agreement; Prostate Pete is the shit.
A few hours later we pulled up to a beat down old house. I’m dying to get out of this car and stretch my legs but I also don’t know what kind of farm bears or murdering scarecrows are out there looking at us from the abyss. I’m not used to this level of country darkness. Without a flashlight we probably wouldn’t even make it to the door without falling into a ditch, or a well. I grab Misty’s shoulder hard to make sure she’s paying attention. “Are you positive this is it? I’m not interested in getting blasted in the chest by some redneck with a shotgun cause you’ve got us banging on the wrong door.”
Misty is already squinting from exhaustion, but she manages to squint harder in the general direction of the house. “I’m like, pretty fuckin’ positive, but it’s been like, literally a million years.” I want to slap the shit out of her. We get our bags together, and head towards the front porch.
*BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG...*
Misty hammers on the door as hard as she can, over and over and over until I grab her wrist. “What the fuck is wrong with you! It’s like 2 in the morning!
“I know, she’s probably sleeping.”
She tries to keep banging but I continue to hold her arm. I whisper scream at her, “Bitch, you don’t even know for sure that this is the right house, and if it is, you’re gonna give your fucking grandmother a fucking heart attack!”
I let go of her arm and she looks at me like I’m the idiot. “Shirley, she’s old. Old people can’t hear, and they super can’t hear when they’re asleep, and they really super can’t hear when they aren’t expecting to hear something!”
I, once again, want to slap the shit out of her. “Does she not know we’re coming!?!”
“Dude,” Misty rolls her eyes and explains, “you know my family hates each other. Nobody has talked to Grandma for like, 5 years, since her and my mom got all pissed at each other.”
“Why the fuck wouldn’t you at least call before we...” the lock on the door clicks. I attempt to communicate with the door’s surely horrified owner before they murder us in self-defense. “We’re sorry! We’re not burglars!”
There’s an awkward pause. I add “We’re nice people!” for good measure.
“Hi, gramma!!!” hollars Misty, five times louder than necessary.
The ancient, paint chipped door slowly creaks open, just wide enough for a single candle-lit eye to peer through it. It scans the two of us, nervously, back and forth, until finally settling on Misty and growing three times wider. “Is that you, baby girl?”
“See, I told you, asshole!” Misty elbows me in the tit and yammers loud and slow like she’s speaking to a foreigner. “Gramma, we wanted to know if we could come visit for a few days! This is Shirley, we go to the same college now but we’ve known each other forever! She’ll help clean and stuff if you want! Me too, but not tonight, cause we’re super tired!”
Dry laughter emerges from an ancient throat, not quite male or female in nature. “Oh Misty,” the withered voice croaks, “it’s been so long I can barely recognize you. I’m so happy you came. Well of course you can stay here, darlin’! Come on in and warm up, you must be freezing out there in that wicked cold!” It is sort of cold out, despite the season, and I could already feel the incredible warmth emanating from the slight crack in the door.
But the air inside isn’t warm, it’s hot. I know old people have poor circulation but it’s like a jungle in here. I hope our bedroom has windows I can crack a bit; I hope we have a bedroom, for that matter. “Thank you so much, we’ve been driving forever.” I smile in the direction of the candle’s holder but I’m not sure she can tell. It’s just as well if she can’t, I’m not sure how she would react to our tattoos, piercings and overall modern sense of fashion. Misty said she was kind of overly religious about certain things but loose with others, but so far she seems pretty nice and understanding. Especially under the circumstances.
I can faintly make out the silhouette of some furniture but I can’t really tell what’s what, so I stay near Misty’s grandma and her candle. She carries it in an old copper mug, dangerously close to the wavy white hair that blankets her in every direction all the way down to her middle. Her face peeks out from a part in the middle but is mostly obscured in shadow, lit from the bottom like someone who is about to tell a ghost story. “Oh, there’s no need to thank me, sweetie. It’s been so danged long since I’ve had any visitors to this old place. I am absolutely delighted to see the two of you here, and Misty darling, I have missed you to pieces!” The old woman grins a big toothy smile and the candle light dances under her crumpled features. “You must be tuckered out from the trip. I’ll show you both to the guest room so we can all get some sleep.”
I look at her like she’s crazy, but she’s not crazy. She’s just forgetful, and dumb. "Duh! This was our fucking jam back in middle school! Prostate Pete is the shit." Misty’s car is an uncomfortable, rattling, stink-pile. The radio doesn’t even work. Thank God I kept my old boombox and CDs, if I hadn’t brought them she would’ve passed out and smashed into a tree hours ago. I flick Misty's favorite lighter, the puce one with Betty Boop dressed as a chicken with a machine gun, then fire up the sparkling purple cock shaped bowl (a joke gift that we never actually used, until all the other bowls were either broken or lost) and take a deep hit. The cloud of cheap synthetic weed stings my insides, like it's tap dancing with cleats in my lungs, but it’s almost as effective as the real shit. I hold it in and lean slightly out the window, staring up at the rising silvery summer moon. It stares back in silent agreement; Prostate Pete is the shit.
A few hours later we pulled up to a beat down old house. I’m dying to get out of this car and stretch my legs but I also don’t know what kind of farm bears or murdering scarecrows are out there looking at us from the abyss. I’m not used to this level of country darkness. Without a flashlight we probably wouldn’t even make it to the door without falling into a ditch, or a well. I grab Misty’s shoulder hard to make sure she’s paying attention. “Are you positive this is it? I’m not interested in getting blasted in the chest by some redneck with a shotgun cause you’ve got us banging on the wrong door.”
Misty is already squinting from exhaustion, but she manages to squint harder in the general direction of the house. “I’m like, pretty fuckin’ positive, but it’s been like, literally a million years.” I want to slap the shit out of her. We get our bags together, and head towards the front porch.
*BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG, BANG...*
Misty hammers on the door as hard as she can, over and over and over until I grab her wrist. “What the fuck is wrong with you! It’s like 2 in the morning!
“I know, she’s probably sleeping.”
She tries to keep banging but I continue to hold her arm. I whisper scream at her, “Bitch, you don’t even know for sure that this is the right house, and if it is, you’re gonna give your fucking grandmother a fucking heart attack!”
I let go of her arm and she looks at me like I’m the idiot. “Shirley, she’s old. Old people can’t hear, and they super can’t hear when they’re asleep, and they really super can’t hear when they aren’t expecting to hear something!”
I, once again, want to slap the shit out of her. “Does she not know we’re coming!?!”
“Dude,” Misty rolls her eyes and explains, “you know my family hates each other. Nobody has talked to Grandma for like, 5 years, since her and my mom got all pissed at each other.”
“Why the fuck wouldn’t you at least call before we...” the lock on the door clicks. I attempt to communicate with the door’s surely horrified owner before they murder us in self-defense. “We’re sorry! We’re not burglars!”
There’s an awkward pause. I add “We’re nice people!” for good measure.
“Hi, gramma!!!” hollars Misty, five times louder than necessary.
The ancient, paint chipped door slowly creaks open, just wide enough for a single candle-lit eye to peer through it. It scans the two of us, nervously, back and forth, until finally settling on Misty and growing three times wider. “Is that you, baby girl?”
“See, I told you, asshole!” Misty elbows me in the tit and yammers loud and slow like she’s speaking to a foreigner. “Gramma, we wanted to know if we could come visit for a few days! This is Shirley, we go to the same college now but we’ve known each other forever! She’ll help clean and stuff if you want! Me too, but not tonight, cause we’re super tired!”
Dry laughter emerges from an ancient throat, not quite male or female in nature. “Oh Misty,” the withered voice croaks, “it’s been so long I can barely recognize you. I’m so happy you came. Well of course you can stay here, darlin’! Come on in and warm up, you must be freezing out there in that wicked cold!” It is sort of cold out, despite the season, and I could already feel the incredible warmth emanating from the slight crack in the door.
But the air inside isn’t warm, it’s hot. I know old people have poor circulation but it’s like a jungle in here. I hope our bedroom has windows I can crack a bit; I hope we have a bedroom, for that matter. “Thank you so much, we’ve been driving forever.” I smile in the direction of the candle’s holder but I’m not sure she can tell. It’s just as well if she can’t, I’m not sure how she would react to our tattoos, piercings and overall modern sense of fashion. Misty said she was kind of overly religious about certain things but loose with others, but so far she seems pretty nice and understanding. Especially under the circumstances.
I can faintly make out the silhouette of some furniture but I can’t really tell what’s what, so I stay near Misty’s grandma and her candle. She carries it in an old copper mug, dangerously close to the wavy white hair that blankets her in every direction all the way down to her middle. Her face peeks out from a part in the middle but is mostly obscured in shadow, lit from the bottom like someone who is about to tell a ghost story. “Oh, there’s no need to thank me, sweetie. It’s been so danged long since I’ve had any visitors to this old place. I am absolutely delighted to see the two of you here, and Misty darling, I have missed you to pieces!” The old woman grins a big toothy smile and the candle light dances under her crumpled features. “You must be tuckered out from the trip. I’ll show you both to the guest room so we can all get some sleep.”
“So there’s no electricity, no phone, the windows are painted shut and there’s no way we can turn off the radiator?” I glare in the direction of Misty’s side of the bed, but all I can see is her faint outline from what scarce light is trickling in through the open bedroom door. Misty’s Grandmother had left her lit candle on a table near the bathroom in case we need to piss in the middle of the night, but with this heat I’m going to sweat out every drop of moisture in my body long before it reaches my bladder.
I hear the familiar *chuck* *chuck* noise as Misty flicks her lighter on, revealing her tired, dismissive, sweating face. “At least it’s free. Besides, we won’t even be sleeping here the rest of the time. There’s like, 3 bars down the road. Everyone who lives around here is coming back for spring break to party. Half of them have cabins on the lake or know someone who does. It’s so fucking fun around here, everyone just gets fucked up and jet skis and rides four wheelers and shit.” She then lights the purple sparkling cock, it’s cashed but she’s always content smoking resin. She knows I’m pissed that she would do that in here so she responds to the judgemental energy I’m projecting. With lungs full she wheezes “It’s fine, she couldn’t even smell at all when I was little. Uncle Stan used to fart in her face and she’d just snort it up and tell him to try harder.” Misty starts laughing out smoke until she starts coughing and choking. After a moment of strained breathing I hear another *chuck* as Misty raises the bowl to her lips and whispers, “Gramma is a bad ass bitch” before taking another desperate hit of crud.
I turn my head in the other direction. It’s getting hard enough to breath in here just from the humidity. I can even see condensation forming on the window.
“So why did your family stop talking to her?”
“Gramma just can be a cunt sometimes, I guess. She’d scream at my mom when mom would try to get her to stop doing certain stuff but I don’t like people telling me what to do either. It’s probably genetics. I always loved the bitch.”
“What kind of stuff did she try to get her to not do?”
Misty puts the bowl and lighter back in the bag and zips it up. “She used to kill rabbits and shit.”
“Like, she hunted them?” I turn back towards her.
She yawns and rolls onto her side, fluffing her pillow. “Nah, she’d just get them from the pet store.”
“What the fuck do you mean? She just bought and killed rabbits for no reason!?!”
My question was answered with a violent crunching snore. Misty was out cold.
I wasn’t that surprised, but I was furious at my dumb friend for getting me into this mess. I decide to do my best to ignore every instinct telling me to grab the keys and bolt immediately. For all of me that is repulsed by the situation, I am in equal parts exhausted. I close my eyes and try to think about jet skis.
A terrible sound jolts me into semi-awareness. At first I thought I had dreamt the noise. The slow, careful creaking of floorboards. I’m not sure if I’ve been asleep for minutes or hours, can tell it is still night, but through my closed eyelids I sense it is even darker than before. Something is blocking the light of the candle in the hallway. Something is at our door.
It must be Misty’s grandmother stopping to be nosey on her way to take a big, late -night senior citizen piss. Then I hear breathing, deep and bassy. Much deeper than anything I recall hearing from the old lady. She was round, no stranger to pie, but still too small to produce a tone that heavy and low.
*KRKRrrreeeeeeeeeeeee..*
I hear the floor cry out again, closer than before. It was in the room. My heart begins to pound and I struggle to breath. Still paralyzed in a state of half-sleep, unable to move, still unsure if I am in a nightmare or...
*KRKRKRRREEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeee..*
Now my heart is in my throat. I begin to panic. I manage to shift slightly but the more I fight to force myself awake the more I feel hopelessly trapped in agonizing catatonia. The degree to which the floor was being strained is as if some very large bovine animal were stalking towards the bed.
*KRKRKRKRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEeeeeeeeeeeeee..*
The intruder’s breath became louder. It was followed by a low growl and smacking of lips. What manner of creature could this be and what did it want?
*KRKRKRKRREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKA KA KAaaaa..*
It now must be at the foot of the bed. I want to scream but can produce no sound nor open my mouth. The mattress moves, something is definitely pressing down on the covers. Oh fuck! Dizzy with hysteria, I finally manage to will myself to crack one eye open.
In a single glance, all grand scenarios of doom my mind had conjured now paled in comparison to the live visage of wretched horror before me. Within the darkness I can plainly see the form of a massive living thing bearing its gnashed teeth, which shone faintly like jagged marble ruins in moonlight. Its silhouette is haloed in thick, beastly fur. The smell is indescribable but to say foreign, unpleasant and increasingly overwhelming as its proximity and duration become greater. Hungrily panting, the thing continues to shift its weight onto the bed. In disbelief I begin grasping at possible defenses and means of escape but can only think to run. Run anywhere, as long as it's outside of this room. Would it chase me? Maybe, but what else could I do? But I’m still not able to budge; still completely gripped by fear!
The monster continues crawling onto the bed, it’s hind legs now following the front. The mattress sinks to my side. It is moving towards Misty. I wasn’t quite relieved, but I know this means I still have time to regain authority over my own body and escape. I can feel some control over my hands now, and my toes. I can wriggle slightly. The beast was now hovering over my friend, and I caught the faint reflection of light in it’s wild, dark eyes. It growls, threateningly, as though cursing in some ancient tongue spoken only in Hell. Leaning in towards Misty’s sleeping face the beast opens it’s jaws. I finally manage to scream.
“FARM BEAR!!!”
Startled, the demon turned its gaze on me. I wound up and punched it in the muzzle with all my might. It groaned angrily and rolled off the bed. It wouldn’t be long before it regrouped and made its way towards me for revenge. Misty finally awoke. “Wha..wha happen?”
“Dammit bitch, wake up and run!” I slap her in the face, and shake her.
“Owww, what the fuck!”
I throw the sheets off and they land on the monster. As fast as I can, I spring from bed and begin racing towards the door but the creature heads in the same direction, blocking my path. The only other way out was the window. I jump to it and struggle to get it open, but my stomach sinks when I remember it is painted shut. Still, it was our only exit. The creature had finally regained its composure. Arms outstretched, it waved excitedly and started hissing. Then the light flicked on. The light?
“Heavens, what is going on in here?” The old woman, now clenching a large knife, glares angrily at the fiend. As my eyes adjust to the blinding light I can now see that this was no beast, but an incredibly hairy nude man, and he looked every bit as startled as I felt. “Nico, get out of here and get back to bed, we’re gonna have a long conversation tomorrow morning over breakfast!”
The 50ish year-old haggard brute grunted, slumped and staggered grudgingly out of the room like a massive toddler who had just been sent to timeout. The light was welcome but blinding. I was still a shivering, nervous wreck but my terror was rapidly being replaced by intense confusion. I was relieved that it wasn’t a farm bear that had been preparing to devour us, but imagining what Nico had in mind was not a comforting thought either. And who the fuck was Nico?
The old woman speaks as though reading my mind. “Nico keeps me company and helps out around the house. I’m so sorry, dear. At my age beggars can’t be choosers.” She cackled and shrugged.
Misty also laughs. “Oh my God, gramma. I was like, what the fuck!” The crazy old woman and the idiot continued laughing as I tried to think of an appropriate way to communicate my disgust and rage. All I could think to say was “You have electricity?”
“Of course, I just hate to waste money on lightbulbs. Hideous, unnatural things. Besides, the flame of a burning candle can defeat the dark and warm the soul.” She winked at me, then walked over to Misty and kissed her on the forehead. “Don’t you worry about that nasty Nico, I’m gonna make sure he can’t bother you anymore tonight, ok sweetie?”
Misty smiles warmly, yawns and closes her eyes. “Thank you, gramma.”
“Goodnight, darling.”
The old woman quickly raises the dagger into the air and plunges it into her granddaughter’s neck. Blood sprays indiscriminately across the pristine room, covering the grandmother, painting her wolf-like expression in wet crimson. Misty’s eyes shoot open as she chokes and gurgles. With her wrinkled hand the gray butcher covers her victim’s eyes and wrenches the knife towards herself, entirely lacerating the throat. As any remaining blood escapes Misty’s body, I feel as though mine is draining too. What is happening!?!
Again, the ghastly crone responds as though telepathic. “I know it looks cruel but she’s safe now! She’s happier!” She gestures with her weapon towards Misty’s lifeless face. “Girls your age don’t know how to live right anymore, and believe me, I know! The both of you were just headed down a long road of heartache! I do this out of love!!!” Her bloody expression twists into a smile. Her lips curl back and stretch as wide as they can manage. Her expression is plastic and unreal. She speaks with the firm, crazed sincerity of the deeply brainwashed. “It’s a blessing you both found your way here, this is for the best. I wish we could have spent a little more time visiting, but clearly Nico can’t keep his furry mits to himself…” she laughs as she begins to step around the bed towards me, then she points her bloody weapon at my chest “...and trust me, you don’t want that Greek drifter on top of you!”
Glass explodes around me as I leap through the window. I don’t remember making the decision to do so, but my brain has now fully switched to emergency mode and I am content surrendering to the will of my survival instincts. Bits of wood and window rain down as I land in cold wet grass. I hear the witch cry out “Well for goodness’ sake! Sure, go ahead and let all the damn cold air in!” Then I hear her voice grow more distant as she grumbles something about gratitude and fire. She must be making her way to the front door, or maybe a back door, I have no idea how long it will take her to reach me out here.
I have to move quick, but the pain from the glass starts to set in. Pieces of varying sizes are stuck in my legs and one particularly large shard pierces my left shoulder. All are leaking blood. I want to cry but then I remember Misty’s fate and the adrenaline kicks in. I get up and look at my options. Dark woods in every direction. She’s just an old woman but I’m wounded and unsure how far I can get or where any of this wilderness leads. I could go for the car but the keys are in Misty’s bag in the bedroom. Then I see it, a lantern’s light emanating from a shack behind the house. There’s no time to think, I can at least go there and try to barricade myself while I regroup. Maybe there will be something I can use to defend myself in there. How I’d love to cave that old bitch’s head in with a sledgehammer. I start running to the light.
It was just a few yards but it felt like a mile. I was half-way there when I heard my pursuer warn me with a playful tone, “I wouldn’t go in there if I were you!” The glass piercing my legs was making it increasingly unbearable to run and I had no better ideas, so I ignored her. Then a terrible realization washed over me, moments too late. I was two steps from the entrance of the shack when Nico stepped through it, still nude save for the unnatural volume of body hair. Of course, this was his residence.
He grabbed me under the armpits and lifted me up. His calloused paws were unaffected by the glass I was coated in but they squeezed it much deeper into my own flesh. The old woman scolded the swarthy pungent thug.
“Now you give her to me this instant or you’re gonna be in big trouble!”
Nico just smiled back and shook his head. I saw the old woman shrugging as Nico turned and began to carry me into his dormitory.
“I’m sorry, baby girl! I tried to help you!”
I shuddered as hopelessness set in once more. Then, just before Nico carried me through the threshold of his chambers I saw the lantern that led me here, hanging freely from a nail in the exterior. Emergency protocols once again took over as I quickly grasped it and smashed it on Nico’s head. He dropped me to the ground and roared as flames quickly engulfed the Mediterranean rapist, fueled by a sea of wooly dark hair now drenched in lantern oil. I watched on and silently prayed for the flames to endure as he raced away, now drowning in desperate confused pain. The old woman shrieked and ran after him. I watched for a moment as they shrank into the distance. This was my chance to find the keys and get the fuck out of here. I felt like I had won some terrible lottery.
Misty’s blood was now cold. It was everywhere. It was on her backpack as I frantically dug through it, searching for the car keys. I saw her put them in here. I found pills, I found cigarettes, some irrational underwear...but no keys. Fuck, that old bitch must have grabbed them before she left the room!
The sound of snapping twigs and feet pounding wet grass alert me to her return. Then, the distinct jingle of keys. “I’ll bet you’d love to have these right now! Come on out and I’ll let you have ‘em!” Then she grumbles something about peeling flesh and clean bones. I can’t stay in this room, I gotta find someplace to hide until I can figure out how to get the keys from her. I limp into the hallway and see an open door leading to the basement. There’s just gotta be something down there I can hit her over the head with.
The heat intensifies as I go down the steps and a Hellish, flickering light paints the wall. Then I see it, the source of the disturbing level of indoor heat. It was a massive furnace roaring with flames, similar to the kind you see in pictures of Auschwitz. It is flanked by images of saints, crosses and other strange symbols. There are two metal storage shelves, each about 7 feet tall, filled with cages. One is filled with rows of empty cages and the other with cages containing rats, bunnies, kittens and other assorted furry pets. Next to them, a crusty ball-peen hammer occupying a thick wooden table, both stained with red. There were also piles of ash and singed bones in the corners of the room. Many of the bones were small but some were larger. Much larger.
“Good, now I don’t have to drag all three of you down these stairs.” The old woman drops the car keys on the top step and begins to confidently descend into the basement, still brandishing that dagger. “You burned Nico to death. Feels good doesn’t it? Not the killing, but to cleanse a body with flame.” Her nightgown, wet and heavy with blood, dragged and splatted down each step behind her. The light from the furnace created for her an immense shadow. It felt as though it were the shadow that was guiding her movements and not the other way around. “You see, there is no pursuit more divine than the endeavor to free a soul trapped in the sinful prison of flesh with the righteous power and purity of fire!” She reaches the basement floor. She closes her eyes and breathes in deeply through pursed lips, then opens her eyes, locking on mine, and exhales slowly through her nostrils. “Nico’s flesh was wicked, but yours is too, child. I’m here to help you with that.”
I pick up the hammer. She laughs at me. “Little girl, you don’t have the strength or the nerve to use that on me, but you can try.” She clenches her bloody knife and widens her stance. With wild eyes and mouth open, she begins plodding towards me.
She’s right. If I attack her with this hammer she’s likely to stab me before I can finish her. She clearly has more experience at this sort of thing. Just as she begins to wind up and charge, with my last burst of real strength I jump up and pull on the large shelf full of empty cages. As it tips she takes a swipe towards my belly. She barely misses. The mass of steel and iron smashes down on top of her, engulfing her in metal and pinning her to the ground. I fall to the ground, but avoid the avalanche. The old woman is motionless, maybe dead, maybe knocked out, but it doesn’t matter. It’s over.
I race to the top of the steps and snatch up the keys. Then my conscience tugs at me. The animals in the cages, I can’t just leave them in there to starve. For all I know they’re already starving. As much as I can’t stand to stay a second longer, the animal lover in me cannot bear to leave those poor things locked up in this twisted, miserable place.
I turn to head back down the stairs, the whole time keeping an eye on the trapped villain. She still has that knife. I’d feel better if I could grab it from her, but she’s too deeply submerged in busted cages. Even if she wakes up I don’t think there’s anyway she could possibly get out of that. So I turn my back to her and begin the work of releasing my fellow hostages. There are about a hundred and fifty cages. The latches don’t take long to open but there are so many of them.
Roughly fifteen minutes pass. I finally get down to the bottom row and the last three cages when I hear her scream.
“NNNYYYAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRR!!!!”
I turn around and gasp. The old woman was still firmly trapped but she had been mutilated! Her lips and nose were gone! Rats were weaving in and out of her hair. Two kittens fought over a piece of ear. A guinea pig ran off with a thumb. The very creatures she had imprisoned, awaiting their eventual sacrifice, were now devouring her alive!
“HEELLLLLLTTHHHH NNNEEEEEEEEE!!!” She cries for my aid.
I wait for the now familiar feeling of crushing horror to once again overwhelm me, but instead I begin to giggle. I look again at the kittens with the ear and I start laughing hysterically. I laugh as I open the remaining cages and watch a rabbit, a squirrel and a duck join their compatriots in the blood feast. She struggles to free a single limb to bat them away to no avail, and I laugh as I walk across the basement, up the stairs and out the front door.
“NNNNYYYOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” I hear her cry echo from the house of horrors one last time before I shut the car door and promptly lock it.
I sigh in odd contentment. I must have finally snapped. Is this what shock feels like? I don’t care anymore. I turn my boombox on and crank Prostate Pete. I begin picking glass out of my limbs while the wind blows through my hair as I drive towards the rising sun.
