I Sit Here Terrified

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
3 boys accused of a murderous crime but all is not as it seems as something is after Joey, the world starts to shift around him and the creatures from his nightmares start to reveal the truth about the crime.

Submitted: January 21, 2013

A A A | A A A

Submitted: January 21, 2013



I sit here terrified


When they pointed the fingers at the 3 of them because those boys had died and Joey sat there terrified.

Joey, Jessie and Jackson. The “J” boys stalked the dark backstreets of the small city. It was freezing but none of them seemed to feel the cities grip of the winds in late December. Smoking, the small red lights stuck out against the hooded faces, shrouded in shadows, the smoke attempting to drift up into the cold night but dissipated instantly against the racing winds around them. Too many hours the boy had spent in the darkness, they had forgotten the daylight, forgotten what it was like to live as a normal human.

The boys shuffled down the cobblestones, there metal infused boots clicking against the old concrete. This was the “J” boy’s territory; the playground that they skulked around at night was just a way of trying to find something to do between the hours of falling sleep and waking up. People starred brutally at the boys, whispers whirled around their heads as they passed the nightclubs neon signs, the only background bright enough to cast any sort of glimpse of the pale faces and tattooed coloured irises staring from the darkness of their long black and green mops they had for hair. The dark exteriors frightened the people passing by, as most jumped or darted very quickly out of the way of the 3 innocent deadbeats now crossing their path. The old bubba on the side of 21st street crossed herself 3 times as the boys strolled by and spit at them, cursing in a foreign language as a staggered gypsy would do, trapped inside these modern times. They chose to live this life, to live their own way, they would never fit into the mould that this world had designed for them. Taking the next left turn, the boy strolled down the path less taken towards the back of the Italian restaurant, Jessie scrapped his cigarette butt against the scratched brick wall as Joey and Jackson threw theirs to the floor into the pooling puddle of filth that now dripped from the garbage cans behind into the dank alley.

“I often wonder why I sit and wait to die?” Joey quested to his gang brethren. He wasn’t always like this black devil that walked the barren world he now assimilated into. Unlike Jessie and Jackson who were born on the streets, Joey wound up with the boys after his first murder 10 years ago.

Joey, only 9, lay against the wall of his country home. The burgundy fountain crept soaking into the carpet, it seeped after him as his teary blurred vision made the distance harder to judge before he had to get up and move, lest he be sitting in a pool of blood. He had to get over the 2 bodies before he could reach the stairs or slide his way past the splatters in the kitchen to find a clean spot to sit and cry. Joey didn’t remember much but he remembered being very red when the cops picked him up, red everywhere. Unfortunately beyond being a minor, Joey wasn’t able to enter jovial prison but while he sat quietly as the old man yelled at the other man in the white hair, Joey new that he wasn’t going home anymore. So the poor boy ran terrified. He ran terrified before someone could bring the truth to life.

“What the fuck are you on about, you deadbeat?” Jessie slapped Joey over the back of the head. The hick boy had also killed a man at 15, the priest was trying to molest him behind the alter after choir practice had finished so Jessie grabbed the microphone stand and ran the pervert through. Penetration is fun were his parting words to the priest. He was, if any, there so called leader. Jackson didn’t really have a back story; he had always been on the streets and couldn’t remember more than about a week’s worth since the ICE had rotted the decent cells left in her brain. Sometimes on a good day, he would remember something, like that he had a puppy once or that one time a guy brought him Maccas for free. But most of all he stayed quietly dropped up in the corner until it was time to walk.

“Nothing just thinking.” Joey shook his shaggy mane before smashing the metal door open with his tattooed fist.

“Not you punks again.” the oversized chef hollered in a thick accented voice as the boys slid inside to expose their black and red eyes under the fluro lights.

“Gregor,” Jessie humbly bowed. “What’s on the menu tonight?” the pesky boy grinned.

“Little punks, if you didn’t creep out my customers!” Gregor waved a meat cleaver at the boys and then pointed it in the direction of a shaking apprentice. “Get them the bags!” he boomed before the poor apprentice jumped 10 feet and scrambled for the brown paper bags on the far counter. He flung them to the boys praying to god they didn’t come an inch closer.

“Grazie mille” Jessie bowed again and clicked his fingers as the signal he was leaving.

“Get out of her before the manager sees you! And may the devil drag you three to hell!” The fat chef spat at them. Jessie froze; he wiped down the back of his greasy hair slowly with his left hand. Suddenly knives and spoon hit the floor, crashing plates with full courses smashed against the lino as every man retreated for the double doors into the main restaurant.

Jessie didn’t even have to turn around. The boys strolled out and back the way they had come, back to their alley, back to the home between the cinemas and the public bathrooms. Tonight’s dinner was pasta and chicken. The hot steam condensating on Joey’s cheap glasses as the golden oil dripped from the plastic container.

“Thanks Jessie” Jackson rambled, scoffing his spaghetti with his little wooden broken folk.

“No problems brother.”

 Joey sat quietly eating, watching his inked hands shovel food into his mouth. It’s been 2 months since my last tatt maybe I should ask Jessie for another? He thought sitting there in the dark.

Clink, the sound of a magazine being loaded into a gun was not the sound Joey was expecting on this cold, shivering night. The rain began, a shower of white drops against the dark now poured over the boys as they turned to see a SWAT member going rouge and standing straight in front of them. The water dribbled down Joey’s nose as he looked up at the man in the night vision goggles and heavy bullet proof vest.

“GET DOWN ON THE GROUND!” the man yelled at the boys. Jessie leapt up in usual fashion charging like a bull at a matador, fighting, always fighting, Joey just sat there, he didn’t know what to do and his expression was blank. Jackson sprang up throwing what was left of his dinner at the man then going after her head, tearing with black nails at the goggles on the policeman’s eyes. Suddenly the boys were pinned, Joey got slammed in the back of the head and when he came to the world rang. He ears where bleeding, his head hurt and he was in handcuffs with cameras flashing about. The boys were attacked, ambushed and abused then made to stand in front of the media. The faint ringing voices were shouting at them, microphones waving in their faces, the burning lights flashing against the dark. Joey heard words, scrapes of sentences, they all pointed fingers, murder, boys, violent, devil. He didn’t know what any of it meant as he was gruffly lead into the back of a paddy wagon.

“Little Joey Mortenson, little Joey the Ripper.” Joey shook at the name; it’s what the papers had called him after that day. “Never thought you were one of the “J” boys, honestly thought you were dead hahaha” the cop chuckled to himself before sitting across from Joey. The interrogation cell was an olive green with scummy pipes and a single window to the right, barred of course. The metal table had a ring underneath to hold the chains now cuffed around the disturbed boys wrists.

“Only for my protection” the man said as Joey yanked at the chains. Memories flooded back, back from that old time when he had sat here as a child, too many hours he had spent being questioned and it was happening all over again.

“So Little Ripper, this time you won’t be going to the streets for this crime,” the middle aged cop who looked like he could be any other boring person walking down the street, slammed down 3 photos. The glossy prints lay against the cold steel. Three boys, covered in red, all dead.

“Look familiar?” the cop asked leaning back and lighting a cigarette.

“May I have one?” Joey’s solemn fluttering voice cracked in the silence, his echo reacting off the walls.

“Sure,” the cop lit the boy a cigarette and handed it to the boy, his red eyes darting back and forth like a caged rabbit.

“So you know these boys?” Joey looked at the horrific photos again and shook more. He heard the loud scream come from another room as his reflection in the mirror wavered. He guessed the Jessie was giving his integrators a far worse treatment than he was.

“No.” The crackled reply came from his lips quickly replaced by the filter of a cigarette.

“We have evidence it was you boys at the crime, come on, all we need is the confession and that’s it. You might get a sweet deal if you rat out your buddies.” Rat out my buddies? Joey thought sucking and puffing on the cancer stick in his mouth.

“And why should I do that?” he awkwardly stated.

“You wanna be known as Little Joey Ripper all your life? At least in the slam you will have a good rep boy.” In the slam? What was the cop on about? Joey didn’t want to die there, not in there, not after he has escaped his fate the first time. Flashes of that night crept inside her mind. His frightened eyes widened. Flashes of the three boys, the three boys that now looked exactly like them, stone dead doppelgangers.

“It was us...” Joey trailed off.

“What do you mean us? Yeah we know it was you so where did you stash the murder weapons?”

“No this is us” his scarred red eyes looked up at the cop as another shudder came from behind the mirror followed quickly by a horrific muffled scream.

“Looks like your buddy is giving the boys a run for their money.” The cop blew a smoke ring into the air.

“Jessie is strong; my brother is a good man not a killer anymore.”

“Man? You’re still boys in this world, and boy or not we have to put you away from your crime.”

Joey sat back, he lifted his knees onto the chair between the chains. His tattooed arms and hands protruded under his tattered black trench coat. The holy symbols of angels and devils ran across his body, the boy was pretty much a walking depiction of the bible. The circles of heaven and hell ran across his hands along with the psalms that would get him across each plain with the safety he needed to avoid the frozen lake where the devil sat eternally eating the sinner Judas.

“Done some holy work huh boy?” the cop asked sneering at his tattoos.

“We have been caught, entangled in a lie.” Joey tried to say as he finished the last puff to his filter since the cigarette had long but died.

“Don’t make me laugh.” The cop said putting his feet up.

“Why did you attack us? We didn’t do anything this is us in the photos don’t you see?”

The cop shook his head and picked up a paper throwing it towards Joey.

“Tell me this is a lie?” he asked pointing to the paper. Joey picked up the fax printed document and began to read:

Crime scene report

3 boys, Caucasian, blonde and brown hair, form 15 -18

All victims had razor blades half embedded into their necks, precisely 666 in each. These were inserted before the victim’s death.

Victims also had claw marks on their wrists pointing downwards, as if the boys tired to scratch their arms out of each other.

Still fully clothed, not an unusual amount of dirt.

Died in a back alley on 21st the 3 boys made the shape of a pentagram.

One definitive stab mark to each chest as cause of death.

A flash in Joey’s eyes sent his back to that state, the bloody dripping from his neck, his sickened eyes looking down at his own corpse before he was shot back to his own reality. Joey struggled in his chains, and began to tap the circles on his hands, chanting some poem to calm his nightmare daydreams.

“Oh know you don’t devil boy.” A large smack came from the base of the cop’s gun straight to Joey’s jaw, the hard butt almost breaking his jaw line but managing to do enough of a bleed job instead.

As his head tumbled back and forth, his evil eyes that drove everyone away looked at the cop. Something was different. The mirror in the background shuddered even more now, and the cop’s mouth looked almost distorted in the reflection.

“Care to try that again and I will use the other end.” The man said, but his reflection did not follow his words. Joey’s red eyes enlarged. Another flash of his past, he remembered the mirrors in the house doing exactly the same thing. They bent and twisted and things flashed on the other side, wanting to get out to this one.

“OK I’m going to ask you one more time, where did ya –“

“Branson, we got one.” The voice metallic and echoed came from behind the glass.

“Excellent I’ll be right in.” He said before turning back to the boy “It seems like the hours inside this place being questioned one of you couldn’t take it.” The cop smugly stood up and faced the mirror with thumbs up. But again the reflection did not mimic his. The skinny, bone like hand of a creature waved to Joey instead.

“HE LIED!” Joey cried out.

“Really? What’s makes you say that boy?”

“He just wants out he can’t take it in here with that, fear made him lie.”

The cop looked at Joey who pointed to the mirror shaking all over.

“Boy, I believe in a God, the one God, your blasphemy is what caused this and if one of you little sick fucks is telling me, you all did it, what makes you think I’m going to think he’s lying?” the cop had lent across the table to the now twitching Joey. Screaming erupted from the second room. Joey fixated on the shifting mirror ignored the cop directly in front of him only to watch the mirror shimmer and waver. Something was behind the cop. Something was getting out.

“I’m going to ask you one more time before your buddy spills the beans, what happened two nights ago? What happened to these three boys coming out of La Mystic? The bouncer said you lead the boys into your alley on 21st street, he said that you heard the boys were looking for something different from the girls so you picked them all up. What happened Joey? Why did you kill the boys? Did they hurt you guys? Was it for fun? Did they scam you out of money? What is it boy?” Joey remembered the boys, he remembered that they were leading them down an alley, he remembered running, running and praying and the boys grabbed them or more accurately, they grabbed themselves.

“It was us; we are the victims’ cant you see?”

“This is your lie boy; you don’t have a hope in sight now. Your execution will be ahead of you now.”

“OPEN YOUR EYES!” Joey screamed as something long and sharp, a strange limb pushed its way past the reflective surface of the mirror. The greyish leg was followed by and even longer sticklike arm. This was not human and Joey knew it. The more the cop tired to expose a human answer for the deaths, the more the real truth was being buried.

“Won’t someone try to bring the truth to light?” Joey breathed trying to close his eyes.

The cop shook his head and turned to the mirror.

“He’s with Satan now; the poor fuck is doped up to the max and is seeing shit.” The metal door next to the mirror made a beeping noise and the pressure lock opened.

“Sorry son, retribution has defiled you to no end.” The cop walked out of the small chamber and Joey was left face to face with what was slowly making its way out of the mirror. Joey now watched the half emerging guardian of hell. Something that had come for him, come to take his wretched corpse to the devil in his frozen wasteland as another body under the ice. He had seen this creature before, the day his parents had died. They died the same way, razor blades spilling blood across the lounge room carpet as this creature stood above their bodies and stabbed each one in the chest removing the souls and splattering the boy in red ooze.

The creatures twisted half way free of the mirror, composed of four long leg limbs spread part like a spider missing his last 2 legs but they fused into a line no wider than a 30cm ruler, which created the torso then matching razor arms, dead skin stretched across the weapons as the  hideous head comprised of teeth, sharp rows upon rows upon rows of teeth covered the creature mouth until they reached the slits that it used to see with. The oddly shaped head bobbled as it came free of the mirror and the creature moved awkwardly towards Joey.

“Hello” the creature smiled at the boy as Joey placed his hands together, his tattoos creating a symbol that the creature stared at.

“It won’t work now, it is too late, you already died. I am here to collect the residue that is left in this world.” Its warped deep voice spoke perfect English as the chain snapped off when Joey opened his eyes.

“Come on, sorry son but Jackson cracked, he couldn’t take it. He told the whole story even where we could find the religious stakes you guys used for the sacrifice.”

“Sacrifice?” Joey said as he was hauled out of the room. The creature followed pleasantly behind as the public saw nothing but the howling of a mad child. Joey screamed and screamed watching the creature like a spider behind him try to take giant swipes at his body with its elongated claws, a bone chilling laughter coming from behind the rows of teeth. Joey felt his hair being yanked by the cop as his sneakers slid to grip the lino flooring below. Furious, he tried exposing more of his tattoos, religious pieces he now remembered obtaining through the haze of the drugs in his system at the time, he remember why he had exactly gotten them. The blessed ink filtered into the needle and embed into the layers of his epidermis he thought would protect him was doing nothing of the sort as the monster continued its advance. The jacket he wore was more than a challenge to rip to shreds, cops flying at him left and right to stop the boy as he continued to try to use his teeth to shred the sleeves. The cops struggled to hold a firm grip as his hand now weakening but the jail cell was in sight.

“Hold still you little shit!” he yelled thunking the boy over the head with an almighty wack. Joey’s vision blurred and hazed over as he felt the human fist connect with his fragile skull. The ringing in his ears slowed the worlds pace as he tried to shake the feeling free but to no avail as the creatures blurry face was almost pressed against his own. The stench of rotting flesh and decay wafting past his nostrils almost made him gag on the vomit running back up his throat.

“You can’t fight me Joey, don’t fight your fate” the disgusting substance said breathing the words into Joey’s abandoned soul. So many years, so many days, so many hours and he still had no redemption for his parents death, still he would trail the long hot path to the underworld of Hades and spend his eternal life wreathing in agony frozen under the waters of lake Cantos only to await his fate of being picked off and snacked on by the devil himself. The cop heaved his body past the first set of red gates, then with the swipe of a beep card the second pair of greenish ones slammed shut behind him. Watching the monster fade though the bar as if they were simply water, he slumped into the cop’s tight hold. His next stop was being tossed into a concrete room. Black bars now slammed shut sealing him into a modern tomb as his head once again hit something harder than it.

“Just do it already” the groggy body said watching the demons leg scale around the corner and into his cell, gravity not an option for beast as it sat in the corner of the ceiling, a giant spider waiting for that pathetic fly to stumble into its web.

“It is not my place to change ones fate even if the outcome has already been decided upon” it retorted blankly to Joey.

The boy sitting on his ass, looked up at the thing that now swayed back and forth, he tired to remember the moves the boys had taught him for self defence but nothing came into his recollection, his eyes rolled in his head from the lack of sleep and the tremendous fear, his body should have crumbled by now but as the new shivers came down his spine as the demon widened its grin, he scampered like a rat behind the shifty side wall bed.

“We didn’t take their lives!” came a hollow cry from the cell followed swiftly by the unholy laughter that no one else would have the pleasure of experiencing. Joey wanted to cry it out again and again but he knew in the back of his desperate hopes that no one was going to come and save him. But what had happened to his brothers? His only friends? The cop said Jackson had cracked? His brother wouldn’t have done that, not in a million year-

“He did not crack, you are correct.” The creature spoke flicking its tongue in and out like a snake. “They wanted you all, and unfortunately he did not survive the interrogation.”

“What are you talking about?” Joey said trying not to look directly at it.

“I mean this” and with a simple gesture the creature started to melt, its skin beaten, blood oozing out the shrieking dead boys last noise. Joey hid his eyes as the nightmare continued until he heard the haunting laughter again from the demon. He slowly pulled his arm away and the thing was back to its original state. His first instinct was to run, but where too? It would be like a pig in a pen as he shook violently on the floor.

“Fuck” the hushed word spilled from his lips before a loud slamming noise came from across the bars. A metal baton struck the bars with a familiar twang.

“Stop making noise you, it won’t be long now.” A gruff voice spoke from the shadows of a blue cap.

“Where are my rights?” the boy flew to the bars gripping for his literal life. “Don’t I get a trial? Don’t I get a lawyer? Last phone call?” he pleaded.

“And who is defending a street punk? Who are you going to call? Your buddies are both dead you might as well face reality that you’re gonna join them soon enough” a small red spark came from under the man’s hat as he smoked. The smell a gentle comfort to the boy with the white knuckles as he reached out.

“As a dying request can a bum a drag?” he asked, the tears he had shed made his makeup run causing his puppy dog expression to have a more pathetic effect as the man pulled out his paper packet and flipped one out.

“Have the whole damn thing,” he said as Joey pulled the white stick from the paper and placed it square between his lips, the man stuck out his hand to help the boy light it but as his hand extended Joey almost dropped the last remaining console he had. The blister covered, charred hand flicked the crack of the lighter as a yellow flame protruded. Joey quickly bent over to light his cigarette then jumped back into the cell and jumped again seeing the creature still swaying in the corner. The whole damn jail was a nightmare, everything in it along with everyone as changing before his eyes. He took a long heavy drag and inhaled the one normal thing he had craved as he closed his eyes tight enough hoping none of the bad could get out, knowing if he closed his eyes tight enough none of the bad could get in either. Unfortunately when the poor boy opened them again he had the rows of teeth shoved back in his face. He wanted to faint, wished for it actually, but instead dropped his cigarette onto his arm, burning his hairs and skin he felt nothing but the fear that gripped him, made him terrified as he sat on the last bed he would ever have.

“Now let’s see what I can do about these?” the demon dragged his razor claw down Joeys arm, slicing deeply before Joey felt anything again. He flicked the half smoked treat off his skin and gripped at his now deeply bleeding arm. No matter how much he screamed or called out the world he slowly knew was being melded into one of an imaginable horror. The monster continued to pick at the boy’s body, it carefully started to slice, heavy amounts of red blood poured from the patch that was now being carved away. It knew what it was after, only choosing certain symbols and parts of the tattoo work, the haunting grin continued over Joey as he shrieked out struggling to fight as each time he grabbed hold of one of the tremendous claw’s his own mortal hand was cut up on the razor surface.

“Don’t fight me” the creature almost pleaded as it trailed up the boy’s body, his jumper a simple nuisance, was removed and more symbols picked off. Joey started to get woozy from the blood lose, pools of it now spilling out on the bed around him, he heard the faint sizzle of his cigarette going out as more glowing eyes popped up outside his bars, giggling and laughing the things were outside, as Joey looked back up to the roof, it was torn, almost as if it were made of material. He started to flash; to jump; concrete gave away to a decaying fleshy substance as the creatures now gripped bars made of bone not steal. The world became shaky and the only sounds that wrung out into silent darkness was the insidious laughs, Joey felt cold, as the creature started to consume his tattoos, each mark roughly gouged out of him was downed like turkey at a thanksgiving dinner. Hungrily the creature devoured all of the pieces before letting his forked tongue that slid over the rows of protruding teeth.

“de-licious” it said with a happy squirm.

Joey continued to flash the wall colours changing, dirt now replaced the floor under his feet as his hands tried to feel his exposed body as he was now unfortunately sick over the side of the bed. The bed edge changed to moving hair as he wanted to cringe back though lack of strength compelled him to lay there.

“Happy to be home?” the creature retorted as poor Joey struggled to lift himself, closing his eyes the flashes continued terribly, a dizzy spells that consumed his head wrapped tighter before he opened his bloodshot eyes to see those disgusting crimson soaked creatures inching towards him.

“So how do I make the deal?” his mind has escaped him as he spoke words not spoken for a very long time in his life. The animal gleefully roared pinning the boy down with its razor arm.

“The time for deals is over; the ship sailed with your archer weighing you down it is time to face your judgement.”

Suddenly he cells bones rattled and shook, the jail cell rocked by what seemed like an earthquake, something, something big was coming. The jumps getting worse had almost pushed him into this second world as he watched a grotesque form emerge to snap back into the form of a hulking security guard.

“Come on boy” he said reaching into the cell with a human hand then a dripping oozing one of rotting flesh, the stench engulfing Joeys lungs as he was dragged out from the cage like a bad puppy.

Joey screamed, he wanted to kick and pull away with all his might but his bleeding arms made keeping a grip on the ogre impossible.

“Stop struggling you little fucker” he said taking him by both arms and his neck, the kid to him, looked like he was on a bad trip as the poor guard couldn’t figure out how he snuck it in. But then again anyone on death row deserved to be tripped out of their mind.

“It’s after me let go of me!!” Joey continued to holler as the spider like demon followed him out of the cage, the ground around him shifting with each awkward step it took.

“Dead man walking!” the cry wrung out as the other cellmates shuffled to their cage doors to pay the last respects to  the dispatched comrade but as the boy looked up to the Alcatraz prison the walls flashed and only horrific scenes from the darkest insides of his nightmares replaced the once dishevelled housemates. Things the crept, things that spat, things that were just a pair of glowing eyes a sharp teeth from the darkness inside the bones, he tried not to look, he tried so hard not to see what his eyes wanted to see but each time he opened his tired weak eyes the gruesomeness only increased.

Winding corridors stained with old, dry blood, the grit clinging to them harder than the ages clung to time, Joey continued to be dragged through the filth, more monsters shaking their heads and jotting down notes watching the guard haul his body through some of the check point rooms. Gate after gate slammed as the entrance ones became a further memory for him, the darkness taking hold, as the lights began to twitch, the fluro humming giving way to the blinking madness of the world’s spinning out of control in front of his eyes. The end was in sight, so helpless the frightened boy wept. The stinging prick of tears escaped his eyes without control. What was happening he had lost track what was to happen he knew for certain as the howls of the demons surrounded him. The room he was dragged into was brightest, white, tiles dirty with more grit and dripping pipes. It was a medical room, those out of something from a bad American horror film but for Joey it was his reality. The real world had slipped away and now trapped in the dimension of his dreams the boy looked up to the black ooze on the ceiling.

“Time to die little one” the guard said as he flung him to the mercy of the creatures inside. Limbs grabbing at his now weakened body he felt slimy, sticky, rough, ragged, and all kinds of wrong connect with his open wounds. He wanted to be sick, wanted to throw up and end the nightmare that he was in, he wanted to wake up again. Suddenly a coarse fabric began to hit his exterior the jacket grabbing and pulling, ripping apart what he had left of his body as it was strapped down to him. Joey didn’t fight, he didn’t struggle, he simply looked up and screamed. The spine tingling scream of someone in pure fright as his hair began to change colour, white streaks shooting up into his dark mane. The terror entangled inside couldn’t be contained as the laughing monster circled him and lifted him into the air, the mirrored glass window in front of him gave a chilling refection of his own pale image now the horror screaming back at himself with a thrashing motion.

“I stand alone, I’m dying for it and everything I that I believe is fading.“ Joey muttered as he was strapped down to the elongated chair, tilting him up towards the mirror, he watched the beasts pulling more of the spiked straps over, unfortunately the spikes where on his side of the belt, as she felt them pierce into his body.
“These lights will not guide you through boy they are receiving you” the one in all white said as he walked over, the giant syringe in his hands, a yellowish green liquid glowed inside the glass cylinder as Joey coughed up another helping of blood. The mirror screen flashed and turned back into the audience that had come to view his death. In reality the cop that arrested him and a few other officials had come to watch the child be executed. He was a wrecked tool, a side entertainment, a test mouse for this new drug, he was worthless, his life was a waste of everything but he was still human, or at least was as he looked out to the last audience of his life’s play.

He sat their terrified, terrified this truth had come to life, as he had 13 pairs of his eyes staring back at him and the devils laugher from hell itself pouring from the grotesque mouths as the needle went into his arm and never came back out.



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