Psychosis

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
A butcher chases me through a cornfield and a highway! Will I get killed? Well, I'm sorry to tell you, but you have to read to find out, sorry.

Submitted: September 20, 2010

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Submitted: September 20, 2010

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"Psychosis"By: Ben Plath

  On a windy, yet sunny day in July, I stare into my backyard, in
 the direction of the startling noise from moments past.
  "Oh, oh my god!" I exclaim. A man, roughly 6 feet tall, with curly
 black hair, a butcher apron, splattered with blood, and a machete
 in his right hand, was travelling across my backyard towards my
 house. I should have called the police right then and there, but
 the moment had me frozen in fear, I had no thoughts racing
 through my mind except... survival.

  I dart out the front door empty-handed, with my mind focused
 on just getting the hell out of there.
  "He's spotted me!" I shout ahead. The butcher was now in
 pursuit, dashing around the house in psychotic rage, flailing his
 machete towards me as he runs. I cross the road and head into a
 cornfield in hopes of losing him in the natural maze.

  The machete-wielding Mexican butcher was nine feet away as he
 swung wildly hoping to decapitate me. I could hardly breathe; for
 I have been running for five minutes straight through this endless
 cornfield. Everywhere the eye could see, was just stalks of corn.
 What if I have been running in circles?

  "Finally! A barn!" I shrieked excitedly. I sprinted at maximum
 velocity in an attempt to lose the psychotic killer thirsting for
 my blood. Once inside the barn, I see a small window opening
 about eleven feet off the ground. There is a hay bale staircase
 leading up to it though, so I go for it.

  Once I fell through and landed on the grass, I see the butcher
 starting to climb through. I start to run.
  "A highway!" I murmur. In the distance, roughly three hundred
 metres out, is a busy highway.

  45 seconds later, I approach the pavement.
  "Well, here I go," I sighed.
 As I sidestepped many speeding vehicles, the clumsy butcher
 starts to follow me across, without any awareness of the vehicles.

  "There, I'm across," I state triumphantly as I turn around. Then, as
 the butcher is in the last lane with his right arm up ready to hack
 at me, a tractor trailer zooms by insanely fast and slams into him,
 sending his body spiraling down the road. His body is thrusted
 against the concrete multiple times until gravity halts his
 momentum; a bloody pulp of meat being all that is left of his corpse.

  "That was totally sick," I whisper in awe.
 Twisted metal flew everywhere. Explosions were abundant. There
 must have been civilian casualties.
  "I've got to get out of here, I crossed this highway too," I mutter.

  I hop over a barb-wire fence, into a field of wheat, and lay down
 in prone, trying to avoid being seen. I am slowly crawling in reverse
 though, to get away from the catastrophe. A few minutes later, I
 hear police, ambulence, and firetruck sirens. It must have been
 a multiple car pile-up, damn. A few minutes later, I turn around
 and crawl so I can go faster. Ten or so minutes after that, the
 ruckus is but a murmur in the distance, and I enter a large forest.

  "Time to run, I''ve got to get as much distance between me and the
 crash as possible," I stammer as I start to run.
  "20 minutes of running in this direction should bring me back home,"
 I estimate. Eventually, I make it back. I lock the doors, close the blinds,
 and lay in bed, fully clothed.
  "What's... going to happen?" the question throbs in my head as I lay
 here confused. My mind starts spiraling in wonder and worry as I doze
 off, into the unknown.


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