Mr Rabbit and The Man Part 3

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
The Man's vision becomes a reality.

Submitted: October 21, 2011

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Submitted: October 21, 2011




Mr Rabbit and The Man Part 3


The man awoke the next morning in the cool, damp atmosphere of the tunnel. The cement floor was ice cold and made the man’s limbs were numb. The blanket he used was thin and torn, not capable of trapping body heat. The man could smell the rich, thick scent of a cigar mixed with the sweet smell of morning dew. His arms strained to lift his frail frame up, still mostly asleep. Mr Rabbit was sitting in his chair, the chair he forbade the man to sit in. He was smoking his morning cigar, his fur was neatly brushed and his blood-red vest was pressed. Mr Rabbit pulled out his pocket watch, clearly unimpressed with the man for sleeping in. “Good morning Mr Rabbit, it seems I was more tired than I had thought.” He scratched his head and got up to look in the mirror. “We must get ready Mr Rabbit.” The man started, his bare feet freezing on the floor. “We have a long day ahead of us.”



The man started his day by visiting his friends. They were forever perched against the bile-stained walls farther down the tunnel. The vulgar smell of rot and age clung in the air, even lingering to the trees outside the tunnel. The man slept on the other side where the smell was only faint. It was rude, he thought, to tell friends they smell. The man needed to be a gentleman; nobody wants to be friends with an obnoxious, vile child. The man was indeed a man, he saw himself to be classy, well mannered and clever. The man began to plot out the best way to get more friends and fast. He could not just simply wait around for someone else to show up. He began to Rake his brain, now outside by the train station, hidden in the shadows. He watched about seven people board the train, city-bound. “Mr Rabbit, what a sight. Look at all those friends. Imagine a whole train full! It would be magnificent! “.The train whistle cut sharply through the crisp fall air, shrilling and crying out as if it were in agony. The man reached in his pocket and pulled out a colt python. He held it in his hand. “Let’s go meet some new friends.” The man whispered, shrouded in the shadows of a large tree beside the station. The man had thought ahead and made sure to bring his old wagon. He would need it to bring his friends back. He waited for the train to leave. The man knew people would be waiting for the next train so he decided to meet them inside the station. When the train finally left, the man causally walked inside the small building. It was empty; the ticket man must have stepped in the back room for lunch. The man sat in one of the wooden benches inside the station, the air was stale and smelled of sweat and liquor. Mr Rabbit also sat; he stared blankly at the wall with his glassy yellow eyes. The man began to hum a tune as he glanced out the window at a woman and her son. They then came inside the station; the woman glanced at the man and hastily looked away. She was probably taken aback by our man’s pale face and lifeless, hallow eyes. Her son sat beside her, looking at the dusty floor and tapping his feet to an imaginary tune. The next to enter was a man with a thick black moustache and a woman, most likely his wife, attached to his arm. They chatted quietly, the woman seemed upset.  They were dressed rather fancy. The man admired their taste and was quite excited to take them home. The last person to enter was a young girl with spectacles and a heavy woollen sweater. The man got up, anxious. He looked out the window and saw that there was not another soul in sight. He turned around and faced his new friends. He was ready.“Hello my friends. I am quite excited to take you home with me. We shall be together forever.”  Mr Rabbit lit up a joint and the man pulled out the colt. He fired several shots; terrified screams escape the lips of his victims. Mr Rabbit stayed emotionless the whole time.It happened faster than expected. The girl with the spectacles had gone last, she had run for the door, only to be shot down by the powerful colt. The five people now lay lifeless on the ground, small pools of blood staining the floor. The ticket man stood in the door way, his jaw hanging open in shock. His face was white and he could not move. “Oh, do not fear my friend. I would never leave you behind.” The man raised the colt for a second time. His arm was steady and he pulled the trigger. The ticket man fell and lay crumpled on the ground. The man did not have a moment to enjoy the feeling of the kill, he had to act fast. He hurried outside and pulled his rusty wagon inside the station. He loaded the wealthy couple into the wagon. His muscles strained and he struggled to pull the wagon back to the tunnel. He felt alive. No more would the tunnels feel lonely, he would have more friends for company. His dream was coming true. It took the best of the afternoon getting all his friends home. It took several trips and the man was very tired. When his friends were all inside the tunnel, the man joked to Mr Rabbit that he ‘may just go mad from the squeaking of the wagon’s wheels.’ The man sat on the ground next to all his friends. “Play nice all of you. I have some painting to do.” He slowly reached for an old bowl and the rusty knife. He sliced open one of his friend’s arm and collected as much blood as he could. He then began to soak his hand in blood and made his way to the tunnels entrance. He began to feel excitement well up inside him. His vision was becoming a reality. He slid his hand up in down the wall and began his long task. It wasn’t long before the man,-our man, became exhausted and went out for his nightly stroll. When he was outside, he glanced at the setting sun. His hands and clothes were covered in blood but he felt good. He had many good friends and Mr Rabbit was by his side. The only thing the man wanted to do was to tell the person dearest to his heart the success of the day.

© Copyright 2017 RoseQuartz44. All rights reserved.

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