No Gein III: The Final Cut, Part Three

Chapter Three: The Last Date

I-39 North, June 11^th, 2004

“Six dollars, it’s like a dollar an hour!” Lindsey burst into laughter as her boyfriend did a spot-on impersonation of Napoleon Dynamite, the movie they’d just seen before beginning the drive home.

“Eat the food!” Lindsey chimed in with her own impersonation. Ben laughed as he watched the road ahead of him. Lindsey then watched Ben’s expression shift from laughter shift to surprise. She was taken back herself as she turned to see the normally desolate freeway dotted with pairs of red break lights. “Oh wow,” Lindsey said, “there must have been an accident.”

“Hope it wasn’t anything too serious.” Ben said as he turned up the radio and held his foot on the break. For the first time in their lives, they were in a traffic jam, something hard to come by in the state of Wisconsin, but nothing phased them these days. Life was great, they’d just graduated high school, were about to go off to college, and the possibilities were as open as the wide prairies surrounding them.

“The Reason” from Hoobastank played on the radio as Ben lit a cigarette. “Thanks for the movie.” Lindsey said as she leaned over, brushing his arm with her hand.

“No problem.” Ben said as he took a puff of his cigarette.

Remembering her recently departed great-grandmother, Lindsey asked, “Remember that time my Nana took us to the movies for my brother’s birthday?”

“Yeah, we went roller skating afterwards.” Ben recalled, tapping his cigarette on his windowsill sending the ashes to the macadam below. “I didn’t want to go because I couldn’t skate.” Ben recalled with a laugh. “Franklin really wanted to see that horror movie, but your brother didn’t want to invite him unless I was there too.”

“What, really?” Lindsey never knew this nugget of information. That was the day she first met Ben. Even back then, when they were just barely teenagers, Lindsey knew there was something special about him. “Why was that?” she inquired.

Looking out into the night illuminated by the red glow of the brake lights, he explained. “I was like his only friend back then. I guess I was supposed to keep him in line or something.” Lindsey nodded as she remembered Ben’s friend who had a reputation of being odd and intense.

“You know,” Ben then looked at his date to reveal, “I had a crush on you even back then.”

“Awww!” Lindsey leaned toward him granting a tiny taste of her lips. Pulling back, she blushed as Ben’s face was now marked with a small red smear.

As she playfully wiped his mouth with her handkerchief, she heard him say, “Yeah, Franklin used to tell me that I’d have to fight him to the death for you.”

“Oh really?” she said, putting the handkerchief back in her pocket.

“Yeah,” Ben said laughing as the traffic slowly crept forward. “You know, the thing was I think he was serious!”

“So I take it you won?”

They both laughed as he replied. “No, I just went and asked you out!”

Squeezing his hand, suddenly a memory emerged from years ago. It was such a trivial thing, but still. “There was something I never told you.” she said quietly.

“Oh yeah.”

“Remember when we went to the winter formal?”

“Of course I do. That was a great night.” She knew he was right, it was a great night. That night was the first time, for both of them.

“Franklin asked me to go with him.” she suddenly revealed.

“What?” Lindsey didn’t know how he would react. He didn’t look angry, more surprised. She supposed it didn’t matter now.

Telling more of the story, Lindsey said, “Yeah, remember that time we went to that awful Hell House that year?”

“Oh yeah, that weird church put that on.” Ben recalled. “Wasn’t that the church that closed up after Y2K didn’t and the world and all that.”

“I think so, yeah.”

“You know what? I do remember that haunted house thing. We had a fight that night.”

“We did?”

“Yeah, you were really offended and wanted to leave.” Ben recalled. Lindsey had forgotten all about that awful skit where a woman was portrayed as getting raped then going to hell. “I wanted to see it all since I paid for it!” He laughed.

“Wow, I’d forgotten all about that.” As she spoke she recalled how the big rumor around school was that they’d broken up, but those were put to rest when they arrived at the Winter Formal together. “Anyway, when I left I went to the hardware store to get some stuff for my mom, and he was there.”

“He was? Wasn’t he working at the Hell House? I remember he was all stoked about that.”

“Yes, he was, he was talking to me about one of the rooms he designed or something.”

“Oh, right.” Ben remembered. “He got kicked out that night because he got into a fight with Ken Tramer.”

“He did!” Lindsey said.

“Yeah, Ken told me about it at school the next week.”

“I never knew that. Anyway, I ran into him at the store. I think he asked me to watch a movie with him or something, and then he asked me to the dance.”

Ben jokingly asked, “Well, did you think about saying yes?”

“I was just shocked. I never had anything against the guy, but I was like, ‘How are you asking me out you know I’m dating Ben?”

Shaking his head showing complete understanding Ben said “It was like he had tunnel vision. If he wanted something, nothing else mattered.”

“I’m sorry,” Lindsey said, hoping not to offend him. “I know he was your friend.”

Ben said nothing as the traffic moved along. Their exit was soon approaching. As he and Lindsey looked around, there seemed to be no sign of an accident, no flashing red lights, no police or ambulance in sight. Still, Ben gripped the steering wheel tightly. “Ah shit!” he said, looking to his left.

“What is it?”

“I totally forgot that opened tonight.” Ben said aloud. As the traffic slowly trickled to the Plainfield exit ramp exit ramp Lindsey’s stomach turned at the image before her. A large billboard bore the image of a big burly maniac donned in a leathery like mask wielded a chainsaw. Surrounding him were scantily clad females whose cleavage spilled over, their mouths hung agape seemingly screaming in terror. Little blood or gore was displayed but the presence of meat hooks behind the women left little to the imagination. The bloody text of the roadside billboard read ‘Gein Ghoul House’.

“Wow, I’m so sorry.” Ben said, embarrassed as he knew the attention their little town had been getting made Lindsey uncomfortable.

“It’s OK.” Lindsey assured. Looking to her left at the line of cars crawling down I-39 south, Lindsey could see the actual house that was the attraction. Its Second Empire Victorian architecture looked like it belonged on a Hollywood backlot instead of the Wisconsin landscape. “You know,” Lindsey observed, “that’s not even where he lived?”

“Where who lived?” Ben asked flicking his cigarette out the window.

“You know, that Gein guy whose property they found all those bodies.” Motioning with her thumb towards the east she added, “He really lived out that way. Did you know my dad was the one who discovered all that?”

“Really? He’s the one who found the bodies?”

“Yeah, he dug them up by accident when he was working for the county.”

“Oh wow.” Ben looked relieved as they were finally getting to their exit. “Did you still want to go to the cemetery?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Most of the other cars around them used this exit to take Highway 73 west to head to the new morbid local attraction. Hence the traffic was now clear for Ben and Lindsey as they took 73 east for just a moment before making the left at 5^th avenue toward the Plainfield Cemetery. The interstate was still visible off to the west, but little to no cars were heading north of their little town. As they approached the cemetery gate, Lindsey asked. “Have you talked to Franklin recently?”

Shaking his head no, Ben answered. “Not in a long time actually. He got too weird for me, always on about serial killers and shit.” Looking toward the interstate he said “He’s probably in his glory days now. Hell, I’ll bet he’s working at that damn spook house.”

“He works at the senior center.” Lindsey replied. “He looked after Nana and Ronnie. She always said he was really good to her. Guess he wasn’t all bad.”

“That’s cool. I should probably call him sometime. I heard his parents passed.”

“Oh really, what happened?”

“I don’t know. Natural causes, I guess. From what I heard they both died at home.”

“Oh!” Lindsey got scared for a minute. Ben slammed on the breaks and looked about. Lindsey then put her hands up to her face “I’m sorry.” She giggled as she looked to her right. She felt so silly reacting to the sight of a freshly dug grave. What else would she expect to see at night in a cemetery? “I wonder who that is?” she said aloud. In their small community there had been no recent deaths. While they couldn’t make out the name on the tombstone, one word at its head of the tombstone was the most visible to the couple. That word was ‘Mother.’

“Let’s go see who it is.” Ben said as he switched off the ignition before asking. “Can you reach in the glove compartment and get my flashlight?” As both of them got out of the car, Lindsey followed Ben from behind as he shined his light toward the open grave. The sounds of traffic and beeping horns were far behind them as now the only sound they heard were crickets and the crunching of gravel under their feet. Ben’s light poured into the freshly dug grave. “Nothing down here.” He said.

“Look.” Lindsey said tugging Ben’s arm.

“What the hell?” It didn’t make sense, but a coffin rested right near them. It looked small and light, and also looked really old. “Why would they just leave this out here?” Ben wondered aloud. Lindsey gasped as she looked ahead. “What is it?” Ben asked. Her only answer was to point to the stone before them, a stone that rested here longer than any of them realized.

This grave had been here since 1953.

“Oh no, Nana!” Lindsey said in a horrific realization as she ran through the cemetery. She heard Ben calling from behind for her to wait, but she couldn’t wait. That tasteless haunted attraction was one thing, but this was too far. Their little town made national news this past year as it was discovered that decades ago, a man named Edward Gein went grave robbing undetected. He died in a house fire and his crimes went undiscovered until remains were accidentally unearthed just a year ago. Now some sick freak was looking to be a copy-cat, and all she could think of was her recently departed Nana.

Her chest heaved as she placed her hands on her hips and breathed a deep sigh of relief. There before her, was the perfectly intact grave of her relation. At least someone had left her be.

She turned around to see Ben’s light still behind her. He hadn’t caught up to her yet, in fact his flashlight seemed to be sitting in the grass. Was he checking a grave of his own relation? He did have family buried here, most of the locals did. “Ben.” She called out. “It’s OK, she’s fine, but let’s get out of here, alright?” There was no answer.

As she picked up her pace, moving quickly among the grave markers, the light ahead remained still. Then, she slowed back down as she approached it, another pile of overturned earth. Dammit, this sicko violated another grave, but that wasn’t the worst of it. The flashlight must have been carefully placed on the ground so the beam of light could shine in that exact direction, perfectly illuminating the exposed earth; and there, in front of the marble slab, sat Ben. His throat slashed and was still bleeding onto his shirt.

“Ben!” she shouted as she rushed to his side, desperately pushing her hands on the wound in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding. She shouted his name again and again, but it was too late. She sorrowfully cradled him in her arms. His blood now stained her own clothing as she took his car keys. “Oh, Ben.” she sobbed, kissing his forehead as she said goodbye to the future they imagined together, a future that was so shockingly and suddenly cut short.

Keys in hand, she ran back toward the car, her head frantically looked about but could see no assailant. Ben’s car sat ahead of her. For a millisecond she felt a sense of relief, but as soon as she set eyes on the vehicle she sensed something was wrong. Speeding closer to it, her worst fears were confirmed. All four tires were slashed.

Crying out in desperation, Lindsey leaned over with her hands on her knees. It was then she saw it. A black shape emerged from the tree line ahead of her. Long curly hair bounced in the night as the figure approached. It appeared to be carrying a long object, like a shovel.

Lindsey bolted away screaming, knowing there was no one around to help, and no way home except her own feet. With no light of her own, her eyes tried as best they could to scan the area in front of her. She feared stumbling over the white tombstones that dotted the landscape, but those fears were alleviated in a twisted manner as she fell into yet another unearthed grave. Her body hit with a hard thud as she struck the dirt wall. The sound of her ankle snapping was dulled by the loose dirt below. Now another sound was audible aside from her screams of fear and pain. It was the sound of footsteps.

Lindsey covered her mouth, smothering her screams of agony and terror as the sound of the footsteps grew louder. From above she could see another beam of light moving about. She desperately wanted to cry out for help but knew there was no help to be had.

The beam of light then fell into the pit exposing Lindsey and all her vulnerability. Looking up, she could see the shape of a person standing over her. Its long curly hair flopped down to the person’s shoulders as the shape simply stood over the open pit and stared. Lindsey could hear this person breathing as the beam of light slowly lifted up until it exposed the face the person above her wore. She didn’t know to plead for help or mercy as the face of Franklin’s mother looked down on her. At least it looked like his mother’s face, but something about it wasn’t right. Its skinned unnaturally drooped off the head as if it were placed on the wrong skull. Besides, hadn’t Ben said that she died? The figure also appeared taller than she remembered his mother being. The chest appeared perfectly flat, and the body was wiry as if she’d lost a lot of weight. None of that mattered in the moment, as Lindsey shot up her hand and cried out for help. A masculine hand pulled the strange face back, its wet skin slipping off like a glove. Laurie whaled in shock, falling back into the pit as the female face now hung from the person’s hand by its hair. Only now was the proper face of this person clear. His hair was a mess, but that was nothing new. That face stained in blood was one she knew too well.

“Ed told me about your Great Grandmother.” Franklin said as he stood over Lindsey. What he was saying was incomprehensible to her, but he babbled on. “She was a lot like you. He tried to be nice to her, and what did he get?”

The earth crumbled in her fingers as she desperately tried to reach up and crawl away. She heard a light thump, like a wet rag dropping to the ground as his mother’s face fell next to the hole. The smell of dead skin trickled down into the pit. “The same thing I got.” was the last thing Lindsey ever heard as the thick blade of the shovel pierced her skull.  

No Gein III: The Final Cut. Chapter Two

Chapter Two: Desperation

Amherst, Wisconsin. April 25th^th, 2003

Stella sat at her desk drawing, trying to blot out the world around her. It wasn’t easy though. She could feel everyone’s eyes on her. Study hall was mostly quiet, but small whispers accompanied stares while she attempted to create something in her sketchbook. The school newspaper folded up on her desk advertised a student art contest. Stella knew she wasn’t good enough to win, but working on a submission would at least be something to do to pass the time. The problem was her mind was drawing a blank. She’d been in a daze the last few weeks, with no inspiration in sight. Her charcoal pencil doodled on the sketchpad, desperately trying to form some design she could work with.

There were a few giggles as a spitball hit her in the back. Slamming her pencil down in her sketchbook, she stood up. A hush fell over the study hall as the other kids wondered what she would do, if anything. Brushing herself off, she walked over to one of the computers and put on a headset.

Surfing the web, she clicked on a link for a new horror movie trailer. It would take a few minutes to download, especially with public school connection speed. Amherst was still stuck in the stone age at 56k. Waiting for her video file to download, she surfed the forums at UpcomingHorrorMovies.com while she noticed someone sitting next to her.

A few minutes later the flash player was up. The small window on the computer monitor showed a lone girl stumbling into a room where the floor was covered in bones and debris. Naturally, she screams, but it wasn’t a typical horror movie scream. It was a guttural intense scream, a scream from someone actually experiencing the moment. It looked like she really was running out of that house as fast as she could when a man grabbed her from behind. She struggled with all her might as this man brought her into another room. It didn’t even look like they filmed this movie. It looked like this was really happening, and someone just happened to be there with a camera. Someone was just standing there filming as the woman was drug helplessly toward the deadly object. My god, they really wouldn’t show this in the movie, would they? Stella looked behind her to make sure the teacher couldn’t see what she was watching. It was safe, at least for the moment. Stella looked back at the screen to see this poor girl wailing and fighting for her life as the fiend walked her closer to it. There it hung, a shiny metal meat hook.

The Texas Chainsaw Massacre would be out this summer. Stella remembered when she first heard the news of this remake; she thought her and her sister would go see it. Juliana, her sister, hated horror movies, but took her to see Psycho when they were back in middle school. She remembered her sister squirming in her seat due to the obnoxious teenagers in the front. “Yeah, let’s see some titties!” one of the boys shouted at the screen while in the movie a woman was murdered in the shower.

“Hey, what is that?” Stella was brought back to the present by voice of the study hall teacher. As his footsteps approached her fingers quickly clicked on the mouse to minimize the window. Luckily, she was safe, but the kid next to her was not, as he’d just been caught looking at girly pics.

After that commotion was over, she brought the window back up and finished the video clip, the ending of which truly struck her. Its last moments featured a large burly looking man who wore some kind of strange leather-like mask; it almost looked as though he was wearing another person’s face. He had thick black curly hair and a blood-stained apron. Standing in what looked like a flat Texas field, the sun shined over head as the maniac spun his body about, frantically waving the titular chainsaw through the air. Several times Stella clicked back to re-watch these last few seconds of video, finally pausing at one particular moment. The still frame image embedded itself in the mind of this teenage girl. It was beautifully violent, a juxtaposition of man’s wickedness and the peaceful calm of his natural surroundings. It was both ugly and serene, disturbing and wondrous. It was inspirational.

Stella went home that day to find her dad sitting in front of the TV drunk again. No words were exchanged as she went upstairs. She didn’t bother going to her own bedroom, instead, she sat in her sister’s empty room. Dad hadn’t touched it since…

Juliana’s basketball trophies were getting dusty, so Stella decided to wipe them off. It was the least she could do. Her sister had this big desk in her room. Maybe it was why she had good grades. This desk had so much space to do all kinds of work on, like drawing.

Stella couldn’t bring herself to ask her dad to move it though. This was Juliana’s desk, it belonged in Juliana’s room. Sitting in that space, she got her sketchbook out again. That image from the movie trailer was still fresh in her mind. Her charcoal pencil now eagerly brushed the canvas that was her sketchbook. Time vanished as Stella found herself in an artistic zone, transferring the image in her mind onto the page with ease. She didn’t even hear the sound of the door opening behind her, nor did she hear the approaching footsteps or smell the scent of alcohol. Finally, her father grabbed her shoulder and lightly shook her. “Earth to Stella.”

Stella jumped and screamed as her father stepped back, almost dropping what he was carrying in his hand. Her pencil again dropped to the notepad, this time leaving a mark on her piece. “Jesus, dad, you scared me.” She didn’t know what he wanted, but then she noticed the aroma. It covered the scent of whisky that had been on her dad’s breath too often these days. It was a much better and more appetizing smell.

“I brought you something to eat.” Her father said, putting a paper plate on Juliana’s desk. The plate just barely held a few slices of pizza. Steam was still rising from the hot tomato sauce and garlic as it must have just come out of the microwave. Her father squeamishly smiled and said, “I made it myself.”

“Thanks.” His daughter said quietly before returning her gaze to her sketchbook. She frustratingly reached for her eraser and desperately tried to erase the stray mark.

“What are you drawing there.” Her father asked, looking over her shoulder.

“Just something for school.” she answered, maintaining her focus on her work.

“Oh, looks good. Looks scary.” her father said with a laugh.

“It’s just a first try. I’ll rework it and add color later.”

Looking over the desk, her father said, “I was thinking, would you want to have this desk? I can move it into your room if you want.”

“No, it’s fine.”

“Ok. Well, um, I won’t disturb you. Don’t stay up too late, OK?”

She said nothing as his father stumbled to the doorway, where he stopped and turned to say. “You know, I was thinking, maybe next weekend we should go out of town. Would do us both some good. Maybe we can go down to Hancock and go roller skating or catch a movie or something. I know that new X-men movie is coming out next week. You still like that stuff, right?”

“Yeah, sure dad.” Her voice expressed zero enthusiasm as she continued working on her piece.

“Stella,” her father desperately tried to find the right words. “Stella, I miss her too you know.”

Again, there was silence. Even the charcoal pencil ceased its scratching as he walked away. Stella couldn’t bring herself to admit it, but her father was right. They both needed a change of scenery. Maybe getting out of Amherst for an afternoon wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

May 2cnd, 2003

Stella again sat alone in study hall doodling in her notebook, but her listlessness was so strong even this was boring now. She stood up and walked by the computers, but they were all taken. She noticed Megan, one of the girls in study hall with her, looking at some comic book website. As Megan scrolled through the page, an image of a character Stella recognized appeared. Wolverine was shown on the cover of something called Ultimate X-men, with a logo reading FCBD on the top. Stella didn’t know what all this was, but she liked that X-men movie and was excited to go see the new one this weekend. She could also appreciate the colors and design on the comic pages as Megan continued scrolling through images of other FCBD books.

“Pretty cool huh?” Megan said as she noticed Stella staring.

“Yeah, it looks neat.” Stella replied. Then reading the text on the monitor, she asked “What is Free Comic Book Day.”

“It’s a day when publishers send a bunch of free books to comic book stores to try to attract new readers.” Megan said. “They’re having it tomorrow; some stores get industry people to appear and do signings.”

“That sounds cool.” Stella said.

“Yeah, too bad there’s no stores like that out here.” Megan complained. “I hope one of these years I can get out to Milwaukee and check one out.”

Stella nodded while she continued looking at the screen. There was an awkward silence, as Stella didn’t know what to say next. Some kids next to her were giggling a bit which added to her discomfort.

“Hey, I meant to say we all really appreciate the make up work you did for the play this spring.” Megan said.

“Thanks.” Stella said sheepishly. She wasn’t used to anyone complimenting her work.

“Did you submit something to the art contest?”

“Yeah, I did. I didn’t hear anything yet.” Stella answered. Her head then turned down toward the floor as she said, “Probably didn’t win I guess.”

“Oh, Mr. Avery got swamped this week.” Megan explained. “From what I heard, he’s going to call the winner this weekend.”

Stella already put the idea of winning out of her mind, she only did this stupid contest to pass the time anyway. That awkward silence came back, then was finally interrupted by a boy. One of the kids who was giggling earlier, said “Hey Stella, I’m done here.” He got up out of his seat and asked, “You wanna use this computer?”

She didn’t answer but sat down at the screen. Clicking on the Firefox browser, seeing the new default screen felt like getting hit in the head with a sledgehammer. She hated that website rotten.com. Horror movies were one thing, but this site was renowned for posting celebrity morgue pictures and other actual death related stuff. Everyone in school knew the highway from the pic shown on the monitor, and the site of twisted metal and shattered glass made Stella sick to her stomach.

The boys behind her howled in laughter as Stella almost fell out of her chair. She was so shocked she couldn’t even speak, but when Megan saw the screen they were all looking at she shouted, “Real mature assholes!” With tears in her eyes, Stella stormed out the room, not even bothering to take the hall pass.

Stella hated this bathroom, but it was the closest one. The smell of cigarettes made her nausea worse, as did the cigarette butts floating in the toilet. After wiping her mouth with toilet paper, she flushed the combination of wet tobacco and vomit down the commode. She could hear some girls laughing over the sound of the water swirling away.

Coming out of the stall, she saw her standing there. Lisa was the last girl she wanted to see right now, but there she was smirking as she took another puff of her cigarette while standing by the sink with her friend. “Gee bitch, you’re skinny enough as it is and now you’re in their being all bulimic.”

Stella said nothing as she walked towards the door, but she winced as smoke was blown in her face. “I’m not done talking to you.” Lisa said as she stood in front of Stella. Her friend stood to Lisa’s side blocking Stella’s way out. The timid girl froze as Lisa then stepped back and said, “Ah, you know what, I was being too hard on you.” Stella’s shoulders moved up and down as she took a deep breath. “I’m really sorry your sister died.” Stella nodded as if to say thanks. Then Lisa stepped forward, raising her voice to say, “I’m sorry she died because I was gonna kick her fucking ass! Bitch stole my man but hey,” she stretched her arms outwards to finish, “maybe I as better off. It wasn’t my guts splattered all over the highway!”

Lisa’s friend laughed as Stella rushed out into the hallway. “Don’t drink and drive.” The friend chimed in as Stella fled.

It was long past time to get out of this place “Dad I’m home.” Stella said. “Are you ready to go?” There was no response as she walked in her house, but she got all the answer she needed once she saw her father passed out on the couch. Jerry Springer played on the TV as a bottle of Jack Daniels lay open on the table in front of him. She cursed herself for even getting her hopes up. Grabbing the bottle in disgust she took it to the bathroom upstairs. This wouldn’t be the first time these past few weeks she poured her father’s alcohol down the drain, but this time, as she saw her reflection in the mirror, she realized this bottle had a better use.

She almost gagged as soon as she tasted it, it was like liquid fire going down her throat. The only reason she didn’t spit the whole mouthful back up was because she didn’t want to defile her sister’s room. “How does anybody think this is cool.” she thought to herself. Looking at her sister’s trophies again, she wondered, why did her sister think this was cool. Was it because of that boy? Was her date hot enough to convince her to get in the car with him after he’d been drinking this shit?

After another smaller sip she sat back and slowly began to understand the appeal. Normally her mind was always running, always thinking, bouncing around from one thought to the next, but now her thoughts slowed down like an empty canoe floating in a lake. Numbness washed over her as she tried another sip. Looking over her sister’s display case, as the light shined off the golden trophies Stella understood the truth. Her sister shouldn’t have died, it should have been her instead.

Everyone loved Juliana. She was the perfect daughter, good grades, lots of friends, star athlete, popular with boys, while Stella was the weird little sister everyone ignored. Most people left Stella alone on account of who her sister was, but now that Juliana was gone it was like open season on the loser sibling. No one liked this odd artsy quiet kid who liked 80’s horror movies and grind-core music. What was that slut Lisa so mad about anyway? It’s not like she didn’t have a boyfriend, several if locker room rumors were true. Stella never even had a boy hold her hand, let alone a kiss, let alone…

The world took Juliana away, and it was a terrible mistake, a mistake Stella decided she should correct. She didn’t just bring the bottle to her departed sister’s room; she also brought the pills. She’d been thinking about it for a while now. She thought about it before the accident even. Nobody gave a damn about her. Hell, maybe she would be making the world a better place.

Stella took another fiery drink before looking at the trophies one last time. She then lay down on her sister’s bed and kissed the pillow. She placed the Jack on the nightstand, next to the picture of her and Juliana, and opened the bottle of pills. She figured it would be quick. One good handful of pills washed down by one quick swig of the bottle, and it’d be lights out.

Her body lay face down on the bed when the phone rang.

No Gein III: The Final Cut. Chapter One

This is the final in a series of stories about what if murderer Ed Gein hadn’t gotten caught. To read the first of these stories, click here.

Chapter One: A Tough Old Broad

May 2cnd, 2004. Senior Center, Plainfield Wisconsin.

Bernice liked Franklin. Her great grandkids didn’t seem to care for him much, but she never minded having him around. Kind of reminded her of, of…

Who was that again? It didn’t matter. Franklin was a fine young man who always took care of her. She hated how her, and her husband Ronald had to live in this home now, but it was getting harder and harder for them to take care of themselves, and they weren’t getting any younger. As a matter of fact, she’d be turning 105 next week. She couldn’t believe she’d lived through three centuries. Of course, she was just a year old at the turn of the 20^th so maybe that didn’t count.

Bernice turned her head to see Franklin making his rounds checking on her husband Ronald. So nice of this place to let her share a room with Ronnie, who was just laying there peacefully, his head resting on the side of his pillow. A little drool dripped out of his mouth which Franklin kindly wiped away after pulling out a syringe he’d used on Ronald’s IV. She figured it must be vitamins or something that Franklin was giving him, must have been something good for him.

Franklin then came over to her bedside. He wasn’t smiling this time. He didn’t ask how she was feeling. Instead, he asked something else. He looked so serious as he asked, “Now, can you tell me anything about Ed?”

“Who was Ed?” She thought to herself. Franklin was such a peculiar lad. He seemed like a good worker, she bet this place got twice his salary’s work out of him. He was a nice fellow, just a little odd.

“He asked you to go roller skating.” Franklin recalled. “Ronald told me about it when I was a kid.” Bernice remembered when Franklin was just a boy, she took her great grandkids and their friends, including Franklin, to the movies and roller skating in Hancock. It was Tommy’s birthday, or was it Lindsey’s? God, she couldn’t remember now. Even then Franklin seemed a little strange, she could see even back then how other kids didn’t like him.

“You know, Ed.” Bernice heard Franklin say as she simply stared at him blankly. “Eddie Gein.”

Oh, good heavens, she hadn’t thought of that man in years. Ed was a simple man who lived out on the edge of town, always willing to help with handywork around people’s homes. If you paid him a dollar, you got a dollar and a half of work out of him. Kids liked it when he babysat them, he’d take them to ball games and to the movies. She remembered one day working at the hardware store and he came in to talk to her. As she thought about it, that might have been the last time she ever saw him.

“You said after he died there were stories his property was haunted.” Franklin stated. He was so serious. His hands fluttered and his eyes darted about when he talked, he kind of reminded her of old Eddie Gein. “What kind of stories were there?” he asked intensely. “Did you ever see his ghost?”

Just for a flash of a moment she remembered a story her and Ronnie saw on the news. They’d dug up a bunch of old graves on the edge of town, out by where old Eddie and his parents used to live. “Why are you asking me about that horrible stuff?” Bernice responded. Then, trying to deflect the conversation she changed the subject. “How are your parents?”

“They’re sleeping.” Franklin said in a deadpan voice. But they weren’t sleeping, they were right there. Franklin’s mom was standing at the edge of Bernice’s bed. My god, it looks like she has a horrible cut on her neck! She better see a doctor. Franklin’s dad is standing there too, and he doesn’t look too good either. Neither of them seemed concerned about their injuries, as a matter of fact, it looked like they’re worried about her. Why should they be afraid for her? She’s here safe in her own bed sharing the room with Ronnie while this nice boy Franklin takes care of her.

He didn’t look so nice now as his hands gripped the bed and he brought his face really close to hers. “Now listen bitch!” Such horrible language, his mom needs to wash his mouth out with soap; but Bernice couldn’t see Franklin’s mom anymore, she couldn’t see his dad either. All she saw was Franklin glaring at her with a hate she’d never seen before. “You knew Ed, and you’re gonna tell me about him. I warned you yesterday, if you didn’t tell me, then your husband was going to go,” but he didn’t go, Ronald was standing right there. God, he looks so handsome, and so young! Bernice was always grateful to land such a great man, but Ronnie looked scared now. He was mouthing words like he was trying to tell her something, but she couldn’t hear a sound. She could only see him motioning with his hands to the room’s panic button like he wanted her to press it. Why would he want her to hit the panic button? Why didn’t he push it himself if he wanted it pressed so bad? Besides, there was nothing to panic about. She was fine right here with this nice boy Franklin.

“Last chance Bernice.” Franklin still looked so serious. “They say he killed Mary Hogan; did you know her?” Franklin asked as he backed away and pulled out another syringe. Bernice kept looking at him blankly, saying nothing as she looked at the needle. She still said nothing as he injected the fluid from the syringe into her IV. She supposed he was giving her some vitamins, such a nice boy. She hoped her husband got those good vitamins too. Franklin then pulled out the syringe and walked away. He didn’t even say goodbye. Franklin had been such a helpful lad, but he really needed to work on his manners if he ever hoped to land a girl.

Bernice couldn’t tell how much time had passed. She remembered laying in her room watching TV when that nursing room smell faded away. Franklin must have cleaned the place good, but there wasn’t that clean smell either, it smelled like, like nothing. Then suddenly, the TV, and everything else just kind of switched off and went black, like someone turned the lights out on the whole world. At least she couldn’t feel the aches in her bones anymore. That awful after taste from her pills was gone too. Strange thing was she could still hear the TV, like it was still on somewhere far away, but soon that sound faded away as well, as though someone turned the volume all the way down.  

The next thing she heard was music, “Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream.” It was that old song she liked by the Chordettes. Her mouth had a salty taste in it, and she needed a drink. Soon she caught the aroma of good beer.

As if waking up from a deep sleep, Bernice found herself sitting at a bar. It hadn’t struck her yet how strange this was. It didn’t feel weird that she recognized this place as the Crossroads Tavern in Pine Grove, nor was she surprised to see its owner, old “Bloody Mary” tending bar. “Here you go hon!” Mary said while sliding a mug of beer down towards her customer. Bernice quickly grabbed the sliding mug off the bar and took a full swig of beer. It felt smooth going down and tasted heavenly. In fact, it was better than any beer she ever had in her life. Slamming the mug down, she felt great, like she’d just stepped into a brand-new body, but her memory was still a little fuzzy. She couldn’t recall when the last time she even saw Mary Hogan. God, it had to have been even before she met Ronnie.

“Mary!” Bernice exclaimed. “Whatever happened to you?” she said as she was passed a second mug of beer. Blurting her thoughts out loud, Bernice said, “I remember you went and vanished one day. We always heard you were mixed up with the mob and they came for you or something like that.”

Mary was a tough old broad. She took down a big gulp of her own beer before laughing and saying, “You know, in my day I fought gangsters and cops and all kinds of maniacs, and then I go and get whacked by the village idiot. Can you believe that shit?”

Bernice couldn’t help but laugh, but she also wondered aloud. “The village idiot?”

“Yeah, remember old Eddie Gein?” Mary said after she gulped down a beer of her own.

Bernice gasped, “No…” it was inconceivable to her, but Mary nodded her head in earnest.

“Honest to God, he walked in here one night and shot me right in the head. Never saw it coming.”

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” Bernice reached out and squeezed Mary’s hand tight. Before releasing her grip, she said “We, we had no idea.”

“Meh, life throws you all kinds of curve-balls.” Mary said as she poured herself another drink.

“Cheers to that.” Bernice said as the two women toasted each other. Mary then observed, “You know, I was always envious of you.”

“Good heavens, why on Earth would you be envious of me?” For years Bernice owned the local hardware store before selling it off and enjoyed an extended retirement with her husband Ronald. She led a long and happy, but rather uneventful life. She certainly was never a colorful character like Mary.

Now puffing a big cigar that seemed to just come out of nowhere, Mary answered, “In Uptown sometimes we get to watch other places, kind of like different channels on a TV. Remember that time old Eddie Gein came in your store and was asking about guns?” Bernice nodded as her now crystal-clear mind instantly recalled that particular day. “There’s another spot,” Mary explained, “where he comes for you about three weeks later.”

“Really?” Bernice gasped. “So, how come that never happened to me?”

“Some young girl,” Mary explained, “who only exists in our place, had a run in with him. Gein ended up getting killed, but that poor girl suffered for the rest of her life for what she saw that night. We all had a real ghoul living right near us and no one ever knew.”

Bernice shook at the realization. Taking a slow sip of her drink, she said one simple thing. “That’s so scary.”

“You think that’s bad; you should see the one where Hitler wins the war.” Mary’s voice was always loud and boisterous, but this revelation came at almost a whisper. “That one’s God damn awful.”

Bernice never imagined Mary being scared of anything, and she herself shuddered at the horrible thought.

 “It’s total bullshit how you went out.” Mary went on. “Wouldn’t even let you see a hundred and five.” she said laughing. “When this world’s author gets here, we both should give him a good kick in the balls. If that fucker wanted a world without Gein I could have shot the bastard myself instead of putting some poor girl through all that misery.” Bernice now looked confused as Mary seemed to be rambling. “Anyway, sorry.” Mary said, holding her hand up. “Point is, you still got to live a long life. You got to see your kids and grandkids. Hell, you even got to see your great grandkids you lucky bitch!” Ed’s victim and would be victim laughed and toasted each other again.

“Did you have kids?” Bernice asked.

“It was kind of a secret, but I had a daughter. Got grandkids too and even a great grandson. I see them, from afar you know. That’s the rules, but you know, we’ll all meet in Uptown someday.”

It was then that a new song came on the jukebox. It was another tune that Bernice recognized.

Better luck next time
That could never be
Because there ain’t gonna be no next time
For me
No, siree

She always liked Tony Perkins song; and of course, she always thought he was so handsome. He never got too famous, but he was also a great actor. She recalled her and Ronnie watching him in the movies like Friendly Persuasion and Fear Strikes Out. This made her think to ask as she looked around the empty bar. “Where is Ronnie?”

“Well, I don’t know if you’d consider this good news or bad news, but he’s in Uptown already.”

“Oh, okay.” Bernice said quietly. She sipped on her beer, trying to take it all in.

“Anyway,” Mary pointed upwards with her finger saying “The Boss thought it would be a good idea for us to have a chat first. Now, let’s get out of here.” Bernice just then noticed the doorway to the side. It was filled with a white light, a light so bright she couldn’t see anything passed the door frame. As Bernice got off the stool and stood next to Mary, Tony’s song finished on the jukebox.

I’d like a new lucky day
That would be nice
But this comes just once in a lifetime
And it doesn’t come twice

Bernice took a hesitant step toward the glowing doorway. Mary put her hand on her friend’s shoulder and assured her. “It’s a little scary at first,” Mary said, “but don’t worry. You’re a tough old broad. You’ll be fine.”

Creed III Review (Minor Spoilers)

Creed III is the third entry in the Rocky spin-off series and the feature directorial debut of its star Michael B. Jordon. This entry completely steps out of the shadow of the Rocky, featuring a story not connected to any characters of the original franchise.

This entry opens with a  flashback to a teenage Adonis Creed sneaking out at night to join his friend Damien, who fights in an underground boxing match. Damien is a Golden Gloves boxing champion and has dreams of turning pro. Later in the evening, they have a run in with the law. We don’t initially know the entirety of the events of this evening, but pieces of this story are told in flashbacks throughout the film.

Cut to an adult Adonis, who is fighting Ricky Conlan, the main opponent from the first movie. Quickly wrapping up that storyline from the first Creed, Adonis retires as champion and now runs Delphi Boxing Academy with his trainer Tony “Little Duke” Evers Jr. The duo train and promote their protege and world champion Felix Chavez, in an upcoming bout against Creed II’s Viktor Drago.

In the midst of all this, Damien, fresh out of a long prison sentence, comes back into Adonis’s life. Events unfold reminiscent of the first Rocky film, where Drago has to pull out of the upcoming bout, and Damien ends up with a Cinderella/Rocky-esque shot at the title. However, this is a tale of “What if Rocky was evil,” with Damien using dirty/underhanded tricks during the bout and actually wins.

Completing his full heel turn, Damien badmouths Adonis for abandoning him all those years he was in prison, and Adonis comes out of retirement to challenge him for the title.

One of the things the Creed series out does Rocky in is its supporting characters, who are given more to do and have their own character arcs. Adonis’s wife Bianca has become a music producer, stepping away from performing herself due to her growing hearing loss. Her and Damien relate to each other, as they both watch other people living lives they planned to have for themselves. Bianca’s daughter, who is deaf herself, is bullied in school and wants to be a fighter (this plot thread isn’t developed much). A retired Donnie now has no outlet for his emotions, leading to tension with his wife, who feels alienated when her husband won’t share a painful part of his past. Adonis’s adopted mother Mary Anne, (Apollo Creed’s widowed wife) is very ill, and there is tension between her and her adopted son due to his past relationship with Damien. Mary Anne herself gets a moment to shine, expressing her feelings on Apollo’s past sins and her own relationship with Adonis. It is also mentioned that Mary Anne’s biological children never bothered with Adonis, which is the first time these two half siblings are mentioned in the series.

With it’s expected in ring action in addition to its strong subplots and character development, Creed III turns out to be one of the strongest entries of the franchise. In fact, Creed III may well be the best film of the whole series.

P.S. It is my opinion that this is the perfect place to end the Creed saga, and lead into a series of films about Viktor Drago.

No Gein: Leftovers. Halloween H2K Chapter Five

December 27^th: 1999 Milwaukee Wisconsin

Franklin and his family went to the big city for a religious retreat; where they’d be spending New Year’s Eve singing hymns and waiting for the apocalypse, anxiously awaiting the apocalypse in Franklin’s case. Thinking back on the events of this past year, he remembered those kids in Colorado. They were doing us all a favor, taking us one more step into the fiery abyss, burning the whole world down and taking out as many worthless souls as they could. Way in the back recesses of Franklin’s mind, he wasn’t entirely sure if the world really would end in a few days. Just in case, he had one thing he wanted to do.

Sixty-Seven Wild Rose Lane, Franklin remembered where that guy from the message boards lived. He sent an email saying he’d be coming by, and the car was parked outside so Franklin knew he was home. After knocking on the door a couple times, Franklin paced back in forth in the cold. Soon, Patrick opened the door. “Hey, what’s up?” he said.

Franklin said only one thing. “Can I see it?”

“Good to see you too, dude.” Patrick laughed. “Come on in.” Entering the house, Patrick asked “How was your Christmas? Did you get lots of cool stuff?”

“Yeah, a few things.” Franklin didn’t want to reveal that his family only exchanged a few gifts this year, as his mother earnestly believed there wouldn’t be much time to enjoy Christmas presents.

Then he saw Patrick look up towards his staircase as annoyed as a female voice spoke from above. “Who is it?”

Patrick lowered his voice to say, “Just handled my business with this girl. Wait here, I’ll go get rid of her.” Patrick watched his friend ascend back up the steps. Soon he heard faint whispers from upstairs, including that incessant whining of a teenage girl which he heard all the time in school. “I guess girls in the big city bitch too,” Franklin thought to himself while looking around the living room. Hanging from the walls there were a few framed pictures of Patrick and his mother. It was a shame, his mother seemed nice. Franklin wished he would have had cool parents, but with any luck, after a few days it wouldn’t matter anymore.

Once again Franklin heard a pair of footsteps, this time they were descending. Franklin forgot about that annoying female voice when his eyes rested on her toned legs moving downward. Each step revealed more, as he soon saw her blue skirt with gold trim, and the rest of her body followed.

Patrick followed behind, or at least Franklin assumed she did. He still wasn’t looking at her face when Patrick said whatever it was her name was. “What’s up?” he heard her voice say. Franklin simply nodded and smiled; her voice no longer annoyed him.

Patrick then said, “Well, Franklin and I are gonna chill. I’ll call you later alright?”

“Awesome.” Her now cute voice replied. Her moist wet lips kissed his cheek before she gave Franklin a coy smile and walked away. Both Patrick and Franklin were now watching her legs as they walked toward the door and her body exited the house.

Franklin almost forgot why he came here as the door closed with a thud. The next sound he heard was the voice of his friend saying, “smell that,” as he put two fingers up to Franklin’s nostrils. Franklin’s head jerked back at the wet musty smell that was completely alien to him.

Patrick laughed at his reaction. “Come on man, don’t tell me your not getting any poon tang back home. You got a girl right?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure I am.” Franklin said.

Nodding his head Patrick said, “Alright, it’s cool. Let’s go upstairs.”

The two walked up the steps and into Patrick’s bedroom. It looked the same as the last time Franklin was here. His sports posters still adorned the wall and his trophy case remained intact. This hardly looked like the room of someone who’d won the Halloween H2K contest. He watched Patrick going into his closet, from which he pulled out a cardboard box. “This is it man.” Patrick said, placing the box on his bed.

Franklin was shocked. “You put it in the closet?”

“Can’t get head from the head cheerleader with this laying around my room.” he laughed while removing the lid. Franklin had no understanding of what he meant, but he approached this holy grail of horror while Patrick removed the contents.

First, Patrick pulled out a werewolf mask. “Halloween Six, Curse of the Werewolf.” Franklin said in reverence. Next, Patrick pulled out a prop ceremonial dagger, fake blood decorated its plastic blade. “Part Five, the Revenge of Samhain.”

Looking on as though witnessing an ancient archaeological dig, he heard Patrick say, “And the crown jewel.” He slowly raised the mask of the Shape, the mask of Michael Meyers, and presented it to his friend. The dead black hollow eyes of the mask stared at Franklin, who stared back in reverence.

“Can I,” Franklin nearly stammered, “can I put it on.”

“Sure, knock yourself out.” He tossed the mask to Franklin. It made a flopping sound as it landed in his hands. “I owe you one anyway.” Franklin looked down at the mask, tilting his head slightly to the left. This statement was confusing to him. When Franklin thought about all the people that owed him, Patrick was not on that list. “You helped me win that you know?” Patrick said while taking seat at his desk and booting up his computer. “I got stuck on that last code, but then I remembered what you showed me about Easter Eggs on DVDs. That’s how I found the last one.” Franklin wanted to scream, instead he pulled the mask over his face, its rubbery material covered his mouth. He could hear his own breathing as well as the sound of a lighter as Patrick lit up a cigarette. “Want one?” he asked, holding a pack in his direction.  Franklin said nothing, but the smoke from the just lit cigarette already made Franklin cough, ruining the aura of donning the mask. Stepping out of the room he heard Patrick say, “Bathroom is the last door on the left.”

Walking into the bathroom, he looked in the mirror to admire the sight of himself in the mask. The room was silent save the sound of his breathing. He could distantly hear the clacking of the keyboard. While he felt amazing with the mask on, he still felt like Franklin. Looking at the reflection of his skinny body donned in blue jeans and a red sweater, he didn’t feel like the Shape. He intended to relieve himself here, but he stopped cold in his tracks when he saw it. The used condom floating in the toilet was a reminder of what had just occurred in that bedroom. It wasn’t like he didn’t know; the scent of Patrick’s two fingers clued him in, but there floating before him was a mocking reminder of what he never had, what he never would have. Slowly turning away, he again caught his reflection in the mirror. Those dead black eyes stared back at him; his breathing echoed powerfully through the rubber surrounding his face. Now it had finally come, that secret signal had been sent to his brain, and the body standing before him was no longer Franklin, it was merely a shape.

Patrick laughed as the form of his friend stood in the doorway. “You make a good Michael Meyers.” he said sarcastically. The brain underneath that rubber mask screamed, “It’s not Michael Meyers it’s the Shape!” However, no sound emerged from the body’s mouth as it took a slow step forward. Looking back at the computer screen, it appeared Patrick was in some local chat room. “Hey, my friend Shaun is having a party tonight. Let’s check it out. They’re gonna have some wicked egg nogg.”

The body behind Patrick remained silent as the computer shut off. Patrick then stood up and faced his friend saying, “Come on, you’re not going to the party looking like that. We’ll get you some girls and you’ll forget all about this shit.”

The body before him remained motionless, making no sound except his breathing.

“Oh, so you’re Michael Meyers now. Come on let me get it back.” Patrick reached up for the mask but the body before him pushed his hands away. “What the fuck man!” Patrick pushed shoved the person before him, then got pushed back while reaching for this mask with his own hands. Patrick’s hands gripped the rubber mask; but a second pair of hands hung onto it like a petulant child. “You’re gonna rip the mask you asshole!” Patrick swung a body shot which made the shape before him recoil and release his hands. Patrick then ripped the mask off the child’s face. Franklin took a deep breath as beads of sweat fell from his cheeks to the floor.

Patrick then tossed the mask on his bed before saying, “Get the fuck out of my house!”

With all his strength and rage Franklin punched Patrick in the groin, bringing him to his knees. Still feeling the pain in his gut, Franklin knew the truth, he was no Shape. He could never take this guy in a fight. He knew there was only one chance as he reached for the thick power cord below Patrick’s desk. While Patrick’s hands still covered his groin, Franklin wrapped the cord around the teenager’s exposed neck. Patrick desperately tried to pull off, he was the stronger of the two, but Franklin wrapped the cord tightly around the boy’s throat. The victim desperately thrashed around the floor, but Franklin couldn’t let him get away. He couldn’t stand knowing someone else had gotten what was rightfully his. Not only did this boy win the prize, but he had friends, girls…sex.

His victim now had his stomach on the floor. Franklin thrust his hips forward pulling upward on the cord with all his strength. Patrick made one final thrash of his arms before the life left his body.

Rising back to his feet, Patrick looked at the Meyers mask as well as the other prizes that were now his by right of conquest. Grabbing a backpack from the closet, Franklin loaded the items into the bag, and quickly exited the house.

Running back to the Church where his family was staying, the night air chilled his lungs. If the world really was going to end in a few days, then at least he could spend his last days with the only things he loved.

Epilogue: August 25^th: 2003

Driving in his car, Franklin long forgot about how the world was supposed to end a few years back. He still felt like most of this planet wasn’t worth a damn, but that was only when he took time to think about it. A few years back, he was actually planning to follow in the footsteps of those kids in Colorado, but someone called him about a job. Before he graduated, someone recommended him to the local nursing home. Bernice and her husband lived there now, and he always got along with them. Now that he was out of school, he was working at their full time, and he kind of liked it. He was still living at home, but his dad stopped drinking, and his mom wasn’t on his case as much now that he was bringing in some income.

Also, in an amazing turn of events, things were actually a little exciting around town. A few weeks ago some remains turned up just a few miles away from where he lived. Looked like someone was trying to wipe out this boring place long before he’d thought of it. “Too bad he didn’t get them all,” he thought to himself. Driving back to work from his lunch break, the radio had the latest news. The local sheriff called a press conference, and a huge bombshell was dropped. The property on which the bodies were found was once the residence of a solitary figure by the name of Edward Gein. Apparently, around 50 years ago, Ed had murdered a local bartender, but that was not the least of his crimes. According to the sheriff, one night, almost half a century ago, the local authorities had discovered, and covered up, the fact that Ed Gein had robbed almost ten graves in the area, before dying and before his property burned to the ground.

Hearing this amazing news, Franklin felt a tingling sensation in his hands while they gripped the steering wheel. He had to pull over to the side of the road as he began hyperventilating. Hearing this news, he could never have imagined, never in his wildest dreams, that something this awesomely gruesome could occur in his own backyard. He knew right then and there this was about to become his new obsession.

Something else occurred to him. Edward Gein, he’d heard that name before, but where? Who would have possibly known him that would ever bring his name up. Looking down at his name badge for the nursing home, he thought perhaps Bernice would know something about this.

Finally catching his breath, he looked at the tree close to him on the side of the road. The branches looked oddly shaped, bending in a way he didn’t think branches could bend. A buzzard sat perched on a thick branch and glared at him with dead black eyes. There below the leaves, a man stood. Frankling hadn’t noticed him before, but he wore a red hunters cap, had a weird lopsided grin, and a saggy baggy eye.

The End

Stay tuned for Franklin’s awful exploits in the final entry of the No Gein saga,

No Gein III: The Final Cut!

No Gein: Leftovers. Halloween H2K Part Four

October 27^th, 1999. Plainfield Wisconsin

“No, no, please God help me!” The voice of a young Ozzy Osbourne bellowed over the speakers on the Black Sabbath track that Franklin selected for his room in the Hell House, the local Church’s Halloween attraction designed to scare patrons into accepting Jesus. Franklin’s skull mask clung tightly to his face as he screamed and made monstrous sounds to the teenagers, some of whom fled in tears. Ghastly imagery of skulls and death adorned his section of this controversial haunted house. He was disappointed the whole attraction was not horror such as this. The Hell House had different rooms the patrons went into which recreated real world scenarios. A man who marries another man ends up dying of AIDS, a young girl gets raped at a party then kills herself, a single mother dies from an abortion. Franklin almost volunteered to do the school shooting simulation, but he managed to talk to the pastor into letting him design the Devil’s lair. Franklin took pride in this little slice of hell he made for himself. He was surprised they let him play Black Sabbath music, but then it occurred to Franklin, the organizers probably didn’t know what Sabbath sounded like.

“I told you I wasn’t gonna like this.” Franklin heard a familiar voice say as a new group of teenagers walked in.

“You knew who was hosting this, what did you think you were going to see?” Ben argued with his girlfriend Lindsey as he followed from behind. Franklin’s heart raced as he saw them both. Rumor around school was everyone’s favorite couple was on the rocks, and now Franklin was seeing it with his own eyes which watched from under the skull mask.

“You know we gave these assholes our money for them to spread this shit! Gays and single mother’s are going to hell, and that girl that got raped! Really?” Personally, Franklin enjoyed the skit about the girl who went to a rave and got drugged and raped and then committed suicide. Of course, the rapists weren’t portrayed as going to hell.

Otherwise, Franklin was indifferent to the issues Lindsey raised, he was just happy for the chance to scare people, but now he was ignoring the other teenagers who walked by. Some stopped to admire his mask; others ignored him. Franklin didn’t notice them either, as his gaze remained fixed on Lindsey.

“Hey asshole aren’t you supposed to scare us or something?” Franklin turned to see the face of his classmate Ken standing before him.

“Fuck off.” Franklin answered back. His gaze remained on the young couple, who quickly exited the exhibit, not stopping to see the room he worked so hard on.

“Wait, is that you Franklin?” Ken said in surprise, recognizing his classmate’s voice. Looking over his outfit he said “You know that’s actually a cool costume. I dig it.”

“Dig this, asshole.” Franklin gave his classmate the middle finger.

“Come on man, we came here to get scared.”

“Tupac sucks cocks in hell motherfucker!” Franklin shouted as he leaned forward, thrusting his skull mask into Ken’s face.

“Hey fuck off man, what’s your problem?” Ken pushed Franklin away in protest. Franklin pushed him back, shouting and commotion followed.

Soon the minister hosting the event came in. “Hey, that’s enough!” Focusing on Ken and his friends, the minister said, “You guys get out of here, I’ll handle this.”

The others stormed out. “I already told you about your language,” the minister said to Ken, “and now your starting fights?”

“They started it.”

“That’s enough of this, get out of here.”

“But this is still open for another hour?”

“I said get out of here, you’re done!”

Once he got out of there and cooled down, Franklin thought to himself it was probably a good thing he got to leave that stupid Church thing early, as today was a day he’d long waited for. Today was the day Halloween H2K came out on DVD. From the Church, Franklin walked to Worden’s hardware store, which carried new DVD releases. Passing the magazine rack, he saw the new issue of World of Wrestling was in. Too bad that slut Sable was on the cover. Bitch couldn’t even wrestle but since she looks like a damn Barbie doll, she gets the cover. He rolled up the magazine so people couldn’t see what he had as then approached the DVD rack. Of course, they had that stupid Star Wars movie. He also saw copies of the Matrix, Fight Club, but no Halloween. Franklin couldn’t understand. He was told earlier the store would be getting it. His eyes scanned the rack over and over as his heart slowly sunk. He should have known better than to expect this little shit town to keep up with the rest of civilization.

“Can I help you sir.” That dweeb four eyed clerk asked him.

“I thought you were getting H2K?” Franklin said. The confused look the face of this ignoramus revealed how clueless they were. “The new Halloween movie?” Franklin almost shouted. “It was coming out on DVD this week.”

“Oh yeah, those movies with Michael Meyers.” This guy was a total idiot, Franklin thought to himself, as Michael Meyers hadn’t appeared in Halloween movies in almost 20 years. “Yeah, we had a few of them.” the clerk said. “They must have sold out already.”

Franklin rolled his eyes in disgust. He’d rather they never had it at all than to have it be here then taken away. Bad enough his mom made him take his horror posters down once she started going to Church, but now he missed out on getting the DVD because of this stupid Hell House. “Well,” Franklin held is magazine up in defeat, “I guess I’ll just take this then.”

“That Sable’s pretty hot huh?” the same dorky clerk asked Franklin while at the register.

Franklin shrugged his shoulders as if the question were completely alien to him. “Let me guess,” the clerk said, laughing, “you just read the articles.” Of course he read it for the articles, Franklin thought to himself as he handed over his cash. Why else would he be buying it?

“Franklin.” He heard an elderly voice as he collected his change. “How are you?” Franklin turned to see elderly Bernice standing before him. “I thought you were working at the Ghost House?”

“Oh, well I was.” His voice trailed off.

“Anyway, come back to the office I have something for you.” Bernice was the long retired owner of Worden’s hardware store, but she still came in once and a while to do odds and ends, mostly for something to do. She led him back to the manager’s office. No one was in at the moment. Flipping the lights on she asked “What do you got there.” referring to the now bagged item Franklin carried.

“Just a wrestling magazine.”

“Oh, I know why you bought that.” Bernice said with a glimmer in her eye. “That Sable’s gorgeous!” Reaching into a bag that rested on the desk she said “I wish they would put the Rock on the cover.” Franklin blushed in embarrassment as Bernice boasted. “He could pin me anytime!”

His mood instantly elevated as she removed the contents of the bag. “I knew wanted this, so I saved one for you. Think of it as an early Christmas present.” Franklin eagerly snatched the item presented to him. It was a DVD case, the cover of which looked like a computer monitor dripping with blood. The green Matrix-like letters read “Halloween: H2K.”

“Wow, awesome.”

“I knew you’d like it.”

“Franklin” he’d already turned around by now but he stopped in his tracks. When he turned back around she said “You can be a nice boy. Maybe invite some friends over to watch your movie. A boy your age should have friends you know?”

“Yeah, yeah OK thanks.” Franklin said before leaving.

Walking outside, Franklin stared at the package, reading the contents on the back; audio commentary by the director, behind the scenes features, a sticker on the plastic indicated about the contest. This DVD was the key to a contest where he could win the original Michael Meyers Mask. Then, Franklin felt his body bump into something. A mat of brownish hair swatted his face, and for just a second, he felt the smooth skin of a female.

The sound of groceries hitting the sidewalk preceded her voice “Oh, Franklin, I’m so sorry.” Lindsey said, kneeling down picking up her items.

Embarrassed, he looked back at Worden’s, where through the window he could see Bernice smiling at him. Seeing the chance before him, he knelt down and helped her pick up her things. “Thanks.” Lindsey said, smiling at him. This was the first time she’d spoken to him in forever. She was wearing a plain brown sweater, not that nice holiday themed one Ben got her last year. His heart raced as he remembered the gossip around school. Word was that she’d broken up with Ben, and what he’d seen earlier tonight seemed to have confirmed this.

She spoke to him again after putting her things in the trunk of her car. “I heard you were working at that Hell House. I didn’t see you there.”

“Yeah, my shift was over so..” his voice trailed off before asking, “Did you like the Hell room?”

“Um, I didn’t stay long. Not my thing you know.” Spying the wrestling magazine in his hand Lindsey said, “Is that a wrestling book?” He nodded, embarrassed by the cover he knew she saw.

“Yeah, and I just picked this up.” Franklin held up his new prized possession.

“Oh cool, what is that?” she asked.

“Uh, it’s the new Halloween movie.”

“Oh nice, you always did like that stuff.” Lindsey said as she opened the car door.

“Yeah, uh,” he couldn’t believe he finally had the courage to ask, “would you want to come over and watch it with me?”

“I have to get home.” She answered as she sat down in the car seat. “Besides I’m no good with scary stuff, it’s too much for me.”

Franklin looked back at the store, where on the doorway there was a poster for the upcoming school winter formal.

“Uh Lindsey.”

“Yes.”

“I was thinking about going to the Winter Dance.”

“Really, that’s great.” She smiled at him and reached out and touched his arm.

“I was wondering if you’d want to go with me.”

“Oh Franklin.” For the second time tonight, his heart sank. “You know I’m going out with Ben.”

“I heard you broke up.”

“Since when do you listen to the school gossip.” she giggled before saying, “Ben and I had an argument but we’re fine. I’m sorry Franklin but I’m going to be going with Ben.” Now Franklin was struggling to fight back his tears. “You should ask one of the other girls at school. I’m sure you can find someone to go with.” Someone else? Who else would possibly go with him? A cold wind blew over Franklin, rustling the leaves about him. “I’m sorry Franklin but I have to go. See you.”

He winced at the sound of the door slamming shut before the engine came on. Then, Franklin heard another sound behind him, it was the blaring of a car horn, followed by the blaring of his mother’s voice. “Franklin, stop talking to that girl and get over here. We’re going home.”

Lindsey politely waved goodbye as she drove away. “What happened?” His mother asked. “Why were you getting in fights at the Hell House?”

“I don’t know, they were just some dumb kids.”

“Well, why were you talking to that girl? Who is she?”

“It’s just a girl from school mom.”

“Probably some slut.” She said as she drove away.

As soon as they got home they could both smell the beer. Franklin’s father had been sober for a while, but now he was sitting on the couch watching TV while cans of beer lay about.

”Oh,” Franklin’s mother said. “so I guess you didn’t go get a job today?”

Franklin didn’t bother sticking around to watch the argument. He had more important things to do anyway. Once he got to his room and popped the DVD in, he forgot all about his parents, the Hell House, and that stupid dance. He turned up the volume, drowning the shouting of his parents below.

He pulled out his notebook while the DVD menu loaded. From the H2K website he solved various online puzzles and answered trivia questions. For his success he was emailed special instructions to find nine hidden codes on this DVD. Whoever emailed the nine codes in first would win the grand prize, which was various props from the Halloween movies, including the original Michael Meyers mask.

Franklin’s eyes scanned every frame of the movie as it played, always searching the background for clues. Any terror and suspense the movie might have offered was not able to phase this viewer. Soon, however, Franklin was startled not from the content of the movie but from the sound of his door slamming. His drunk father stumbled through the doorway; his eyes lazily looked around the room. “What are you doing?” he slurred. “You don’t have a girl up here, do you?” After looking at the strange imagery on the TV screen he said, “Of course you don’t.” Stumbling forward, eying the DVD case he added. “You’re into all this weird shit. Why don’t you play some sports. Go out and get a girl.” Then, looking back at the TV, he asked “What is this?”

 “Dad don’t!” Franklin said as his father pushed the TV, making the DVD player on top slide part way off.

In response, his father pushed the TV harder, this time making it tip for just a moment. His fingers also accidentally hit the DVD panel. The sound of the DVD tray opening accompanied the banging sound of the whole device hitting the floor.

“What is going on in here?” Franklin’s mother burst into the room. His parents resumed they’re argument but at least took it out in the hallway. Franklin quickly knelled down to look at his electronics equipment. The lights were still visible on the display of the DVD player, indicating that it still worked. Unfortunately, it was too late, the damage was already done. Franklin’s face reflected up at him from part of the DVD, tears fell from his eyes onto part of the disc. These tears wouldn’t change the fact that this DVD that was just gifted to him was now cracked in half.

No Gein: Leftovers. Halloween: H2K Part 3

Milwaukee Wisconsin, August 15^th, 1999

“In fulfillment of Bible prophecy, the world today is beginning to speak the same language. We are satellite- and Internet-connected. We are fast moving toward a cashless economy, a one-world government, a one-world court and a one-world church. We are building a universal city with a one-world church whose tower reaches into heaven.”

“Just like the Tower of Babel!” Franklin’s mother shouted in enthusiasm while other members of the congregation clapped and cheered in agreement. Jerry Falwell’s sermon continued.

“But the Trinity has come down and looked us over,” the reverend said, “and it seems that God doesn’t like what he sees. He may be preparing to confound our language, to jam our communications, scatter our efforts and judge us for our sin and rebellion against his lordship. We are hearing from many sources that January 1, 2000, will be a fateful day in the history of the world.”

Franklin stood up and cheered. Caught up in the moment, he briefly forgot about his mind off his nearly passed out drunk father sitting next to him. Since he lost his job last year he’d taken to the bottle while his mom took to religion. Deciding they needed to escape the sin and debauchery that she claimed gripped their tiny town of Plainfield, Franklin’s mother took the family to the big city of Milwaukee for a religious retreat. Franklin was familiar with Falwell. He remembered a few years ago the reverend said something about one of the Teletubbies being gay. Franklin wasn’t sure about that, but he hoped Falwell was right about January first. Back home, the church his mom drug him to preached hard on the Y2K scare that was in the news and how it was a sign of God’s judgement. At first Franklin was annoyed at having to get up early on Sunday mornings, but a wrathful god massacring humanity sounded pretty awesome. In the last few months he’d been obsessed with those Columbine kids who massacred their school. Reading some of their journals that were posted online, and he started to think both them and God had the right idea. Fuck the world and everyone in it, blow this place to smithereens and start again. Maybe almighty God will get creation right next time.

Like all the speakers before him, Falwell started hawking his book and other merchandise to the crowd before him. Franklin looked at his watch impatiently as the program was running over. After hearing one last plug of merch he looked to the door behind him. One of the local ministers made an announcement that after a short break the adults would have special small group sessions and there would be some programming for the youth.

“Oh wonderful, you can make some new friends.” His mom said.  

“Mom I’m going to meet my friend, you know that.”

“Oh, dear just go check it out. It will be fun.” She said before she and Franklin’s dad went to the adult study.

Franklin felt agitated as he got off the bus. According to the horror message board he frequented, Patrick was going to LARP with some people in nearby Cooper Park. Franklin planned to meet him there, but he was late. He never tried Live Action Role Playing Before. No one in his little shit town would have the imagination to try something that cool. He looked around the park and didn’t see anything yet. Then he spotted a girl dressed in all black standing next to a guy that was big like a football player. The girl’s bright red lipstick was noticeable from afar, when he approached, she smiled at him, her exposed jaw revealed a set of plastic vampire teeth.

“Hey Franklin.” He turned around at the sound of a male voice to see a teenager, dressed kind of normal, t shirt, jeans, Air Jordon’s, but he was carrying a plastic crossbow so Franklin presumed he was a LARPer. “Patrick, good to meet you. Sorry you missed the LARP. We ended up starting early.” Nodding his head to the other guy he said, “Tim here has to go in for early football practice.”

“Hey I’m Tim, nice to meet you.” the other teenager said waving his large hand at him. Franklin said nothing as Tim said “Sorry, I gotta head out.”

“Later.” Patrick said as Tim walked away with his arm around the vampire girl.

“He plays football?” Patrick said in disgust.

“Yeah, he’s cool. He also plays in my Shadowrun campaign.” Patrick said, referring to the cyberpunk themed table top role playing game. Patrick couldn’t conceive of a jock being a gamer. He didn’t have a lot of time to ponder this as Patrick asked, “So, you want to hang at my place?”

Later, walking into Patrick’s house, Franklin asked, “Aren’t your parents home?”

“Well, I just live with my dad and he’s at work.”

“Sweet.” Franklin said as he followed Patrick up the steps. He wished he didn’t have to live with his mom. Walking into Patrick’s room, Franklin expected a shrine to horror movies. What he saw were posters of sports figures he didn’t recognize. He looked confused as he stared a few athletic trophies set up in a display case.

“Those are for track.” Patrick explained before asking. “What sports do you do?”

That question was preposterous. “Uh, I’m, I’m not into sports really.”

“All about the scary movies huh?” Patrick said, picking up the Night Skies DVD. “Cool, well, you want to check this out then.” Patrick had Night Skies Four, Kayeri, the direct to DVD sequel that came out last year.

Franklin nodded and Patrick loaded the DVD player. Picking its remote control, he said “On the forums you said something about Easter Eggs?”

“Yeah, if you fiddle around on the menu screen.” Franklin took the remote control from Patrick’s hand and pointed to the TV screen.” “Look here,” he explained, “it doesn’t look like the cursor can go here, but watch.” Pushing the left arrow button on the remote, an area of the screen was highlighted that wasn’t highlighted before, indicating this was an item to be selected.

“Oh cool, how did you do that?

“Like this.” he said, holding up the remote. Pushing the directional buttons, Franklin moved the menu icon back and forth. Them after clicking the icon on the hidden spot, a deleted scene was loaded.

“Wow, that’s awesome!” Patrick said as the gigantic star filled sky of the southwestern united states appeared on the screen. The two teenagers watched as the sound of a Native American wind instrument drummed through the speakers of Patrick’s small TV. On the screen, the camera panned down to the image of a campfire. A mother and daughter sat among their fellow tribesmen.  Looking up at the sky, the mother said  “Our people have stories about a tribe that flew on an eagle all way up into the heavens.” The child’s eyes widened with wonder as her mother went on. “They flew so far away they had to live among the stars.”

“Really, they’re speaking English?” Patrick laughed.

“Listen to this part.” Franklin said urgently. To him, this wasn’t hanging out and socializing, this was getting his friend up to speed.

They both resumed watching as the woman explained that that one day this special tribe will come back to their lands. Just then, a flurry of shooting stars streaked across the sky. “Is that them?” The young girl excitedly pointed her tiny finger up to the heavens.

“Maybe,” the mother said, “maybe they’re coming to take you away!” The young girl laughed as her mother proceeded to tickle her. “OK, that’s enough stories. It’s time for you to go to bed.”

Later, while the young girl lay down beneath the open sky, she could not bring her self to close her eyes. Her gaze remained fixed on the sights above her. One of the shooting stars she’d seen seemed to have been moving slower, almost hovering over her people. In fact, it looked like the light was drawing closer. It’s bright white glow grew larger and larger. The rest of her people slept as she watched in wonderment this ball of light landing on the Earth as though it were a giant eagle. No sound was made as it appeared to touch the soil. Her eyes unable to move from it, the young girl said but two words. She drug out the syllables as she spoke, it was a phrase the filmmakers knew the audience would be familiar with.

“They’re here.”

“Cool, I remember I was a little kid when Heather O’ Rourke died.” Patrick said, referring to the child actor who starred in the original Night Skies film, and tragically passed in the late 80’s.  “That really sucked.”

“Yeah, she could have been in the TV show.” Patrick referred to the Night Skies spinoff TV series that aired on the sci-fi channel.

“Uh, yeah,” Patrick said, turning to his computer. The sound of the 56K modem indicated that he was connecting to the internet. “Anyway, you want to watch the movie a bit.” Franklin agreed and selected the ‘play feature’ option on the menu. They continued to make small talk while the movie played and Patrick typed on the keyboard. The familiar bleeping sound of AOL messenger occasionally accompanied the sounds from the movie. Soon Patrick asked, “You got a girl back home?”

“Uh, yeah there’s this girl back home. Lindsey.” Her name hung from his lips, like honey on a spoon that was just out of reach.

“Cool.” Patrick continued typing on his keyboard. After a few minutes he said “Hey, what time do you have to get back?”

Looking at his watch, Franklin said “Yeah, I should probably get back soon.”

“That’s cool. I’m gonna go meet this cheerleader chic in a bit, but I can give you a ride if you need it?”

“Sure.”

Later, after saying goodbye to Patrick, Franklin entered the church where he saw his mom kneeling in prayer with the minister. His father looked at him, his eyes betraying no emotion but his mother immediately looked back after the sound of the door opening. “Oh my heavens where were you?” She rushed up to her feet and came toward him. “We were just about to call the police.”

“Told you he was fine.” His father said. Smiling and nodding at his son he speculated, “Probably out with some girl.”

“No,” Franklin responded, frustrated. “I told you I was out with Patrick.”

“Who’s Patrick?” His mom asked.

“I told you who Patrick is.” Franklin couldn’t believe his mother’s ignorance. “That guy I met online.”

“Wait,” The minister interrupted, “You met a man online and you went to his house?”

“He’s my age.” Franklin said annoyed. “I came on this trip so I could meet him.

“And what were you doing with him?” His mother said, still concerned.

“God mom, we just watched a DVD.”

“Son,” the minister interupted again, “was this a pornographic DVD?

“No you asshole, it was Night Skies IV!”

“Franklin!” his mother scolded. Meanwhile, his father looked at his watched, appearing just as annoyed as Franklin was.

“It’s OK.” The minister said to Franklin’s mother. “Franklin, you have to be careful about meeting people on the internet.”

“I only came on this trip so I could meet him, and I hardly got to hang out with him because your crap went on all day!” Then, turning to his parents, he said. “Now come on let’s go home.” He stormed out of the church and walked towards his parents’ car. He couldn’t believe in the stupidity of these people. Sitting in the car, fuming, he thought to himself, there was one thing he hoped these people were right about. He hoped the world really did end this year. If he ever would have prayed, he would have prayed for this planet to be obliterated. Watching his mother sobbing while coming out of the church, his father meekly following behind, he cursed his lot at having to be raised by these idiots. As they opened the doors and plopped themselves down in the car seats, he thought to himself, if they’re still alive in the new millennium, he might have to do the finish them off himself.

No Gein: Leftovers. Halloween: H2K Part 2

April 20^th, 1999 Tri-Country High School, Plainfield Wisconsin

Franklin was used to the scowls of his fellow students as he walked in the computer lab. To him this single room was the only place in this building that was worth a damn. Certainly better than the gymnasium. Of course some kids were wasting it looking up basketball scores or celebrity gossip. One was reading something about Hitler. That bitch Lynda was sitting next to one of the only open computers. He could feel her skin crawl as he sat down next to her. He wondered what the fuck her problem was anyway. She was sitting there looking up shit about weed. In his mind the TV hanging overhead would come loose and land on her fucking head. Maybe then she’d finally chill the fuck out.  

He forgot about her as soon as the Macintosh booted up. He immediately went to his favorite forum. He dropped a few random posts. Some douche bags had a whole thread on humorous moments in the X-Files series. Stupid assholes, don’t they know X-Files isn’t supposed to be funny? On the Halloween forums he also exchanged a few posts with ShapeDude. He seemed like a cool guy, a fellow Halloween fan who lived in Milwaukee. He wished cool people like him went to this school instead of all these worthless sacks of shit.

One post got his attention, “New questions are up.” This was on the forum for the H2K contest. He immediately typed h2k.com into the url bar, bringing up the promotional website for the upcoming Direct to DVD release, Halloween: H2K. His mouse immediately clicked on the quiz section and the first question loaded.

What name was Michael Meyers listed as in the credits of Halloween?  “Any idiot knows that.” Franklin thought to himself as he clicked “The Shape.”

Then the next question loaded. The word Samhain was on the screen followed by several phonetic spellings of it. The question was “How do you pronounce Samhain?” In Halloween 2, Donald Pleasance, who plays Dr. Gavin, mispronounces it as Sam-HAYNE. Halloween 5: The Revenge of Samhain, corrected this mistake, which is how Franklin knew the correct answer as he clicked on saa.wn

Franklin shook his fist in triumph as the website scored his points for another correct answer. If he kept answering correctly, he would remain on the leader board, which was one factor in the H2K contest. The grand prize of which was a collection of props from the various Halloween movies, including one of the original Michael Meyers masks from the first Halloween.

“What are you looking at freak?” Franklin turned around to see Ken, one of his classmates. His eyes stared at him judgmentally through his thick rimmed glasses.

“Says the guy looking at dead bodies.” Franklin retorted, commentating on the JPEG image of a black man laying on a steel slab displayed on the light blue Macintosh monitor.

“Dude, do you even know who this is?” Ken sounded shocked at Franklin’s ignorance but, Franklin really didn’t know who it was. He did know no one was supposed to be looking at rotten.com, a website notorious for its graphic pictures of corpses which Ken loaded on his screen.

Deciding to be a smart ass, Franklin replied, “Who is it, your boyfriend?”

“Hey, don’t you insult Tupac!”

“X-Pac,” Franklin sarcastically said, “Isn’t that the wrestler?”

“Man shut the fuck up!” Again pointing to his screen Ken nearly shouted “This guy was one of the greatest entertainers of the 20^th century, not some fake ass wrestler.”

Franklin wouldn’t reveal this, but once Ken said “Tupac” he did realize who Ken was talking about. Of course Franklin’s frame of reference for Tupac Shakur was his appearance in Halloween: Resurrection of the Vampire. In fact, the only Tupac song he knew was the one that appeared on Resurrection’s soundtrack. This didn’t stop Franklin from answering “Your mom’s tits are fake.”

“Oh, you mother fucker.” Ken sprung out of his seat to approach Franklin. The ruckus finally got the teacher’s attention. “Hey, knock it off guys.” he said in a stern voice. Some students snickered at how the teacher finally payed attention to his students, instead of looking up news about the new Star Wars movie.

Ken stopped in his tracks and Franklin turned his gaze to the doorway as Lindsey walked in. She looked upset. Franklin gasped audibly as she rapidly drew closer. Stopping in front of his chair, her body stretched upwards, lifting the material on her shirt exposing her navel. Her slender fingers pushed the button, and after the electronic buzzing sound the TV turned on. Franklin now watched her fingers frantically flip through the channels before stopping on CNN. The 24 hour news channel broadcast an aerial shot of what looked like a high school. Hundreds of kids were running out, their hands all raised above their heads as police cars surrounded the building. Franklin smirked to himself while other kids gasped at the image of handmade sign reading “I bleeding to death,” followed by footage of police officers helping a bloody teenager come out of a shattered window. The headline below read “Multiple dead at Columbine High School.”

No Gein: Leftovers, Halloween H2K Part One

12/31/1998 Plainfield, Wisconsin.

“Man, I can’t believe they ended the streak!” Tommy complained as he carried a case of Coke into the kitchen.

“Wait,” Ben said as he followed behind with several bags of chips. “Goldberg got beat?” Ben was shocked at what he’d just heard. Goldberg, the World Championship Wrestling superstar, had gone 173-0 into his title defense at Starrcarde, a Pay Per View event that occurred just four days prior. “That’s bullshit.” Ben protested, putting the chips on the kitchen table. Ben then noticed Bernice, Tommy’s great grandmother and host of their New Year’s Eve party standing right there. “Oh, sorry Mrs. Worden.” he said.  

“Oh, that’s OK dear.” Bernice laughed, waving her hand dismissively.

Her husband Ronnie sat next to her and laughed as well, adding “Yeah, you kids hear worse than that on South Park.”  

“You know that wrestling’s all just a show, right?” Lindsey rhetorically asked while bringing in a bag of popcorn.

“I know, but it’s still bullshit.” Ben answered his girlfriend before asking Lindsey’s brother Tommy, “Anyway, how’d they do it?”

Tommy then gave a recap of the predetermined bout. “Scott Hall came down to ringside and zapped Goldberg with a taser. Then Nash power bombed him and got the pin.”

 “That totally sucks.” Ben responded.

“Well, I don’t mind seeing more of Kevin Nash.” Bernice’s round face lit up as she chimed in. “They don’t call him big sexy for nothing!”

Tommy turned to his great grandfather via marriage and joked “You hear that, Ronald? You might have some competition.”

Ronald responded by holding up his cane and boasting “I’ll take him on in a steel cage!” Adding, “Wouldn’t be the first time I had to fight for her.”

“Maybe they’ll book a Bernice Worden on a pole match.” Ben joked, referring to one of the gimmick matches used on wrestling programming.

“Oh, trust me, there’s no competition for my Ronnie.” Bernice playfully put his arm around her husband of forty years before saying, “As a matter of fact, I’ve started calling him big sexy!”

“Nanna!” Lindsey blushed in embarrassment.

“You laugh but you’ll get old someday too.” Ronnie retorted, squeezing his wife’s hand. They’d been blessed with a long happy marriage. Ronnie, in fact, was Bernice’s second husband, but Bernice had been the longtime owner of the local Worden’s hardware store. It never bothered Ronnie that most people in the town still called her Mrs. Worden.

Soon Tommy, Lindsey and Ben went into the living room where they joined some of their other high school classmates watching Dick Clark on the big screen TV. Bernice and Ronald followed behind when they heard a knock at the door. “Come in.” Bernice said. Ben felt a little uncomfortable seeing the scowls some of his classmates gave his childhood friend Franklin walking through the door.

Bernice, however, was happy to see him. “Oh Franklin. How are you?” she happily greeted. Then, noticing the stack of Tupperware containers he was carrying she asked, “What do you have there?”

“Mother baked some cookies.” Franklin answered.

“Oh, that’s great well you can put them in the kitchen.” Bernice said.

Ben then stood up, saying “Here I’ll give you a hand with those.” before taking one of the containers off his friend.

Following Franklin into the kitchen Ben asked, “We were just talking about Starrcade, did you see it?”

“Yeah, you know Nash is the booker now, right?” Ben was confused at this ‘booker’ term his friend used, not knowing it referred to the person in a wrestling company who determines the outcomes of the matches. “So, of course he booked himself to win the title.” Franklin prattled on. “Did you see Nash challenged Goldberg for a rematch for next Monday. I bet it ends with a run in from Hall. Same old predictable shit!” he concluded while carelessly tossed the Tupperware container he was carrying on the kitchen table.

Ben was used to Franklin’s conversations going on like a runaway train. In an attempt to derail Franklin’s complaints about the modern state of professional wrestling he said, “OK, well thanks for coming man. We’re gonna have a good time.”

“Yeah, especially because we got this.” Franklin pulled out a bottle of Jack Daniels from his winter coat.

“What are you doing with that?” For the second time tonight, Ben was in shock.

“Stole it from my dad’s cabinet.”

“You can’t be doing that!” Ben nearly shouted. 

“Chill out, he’ll be so blank tonight he won’t even notice it’s gone.”

Looking out in the living room in a panic, Ben insisted “Look it’s disrespectful to Bernice. Put that away!” Ben was no angel, he and Lindsey occasionally snuck a few beers out in the fields, but all their parents trusted Bernice and Ronnie to host a New Year’s Eve party without any shenanigans.

“OK, sorry man.” Franklin said. Ben knew Franklin got the message, as he always got on well with Mrs. Worden.

Tucking the bottle back in his winter coat Franklin asked, “So, you think they’ll want to watch the trailer?”

Once again Ben was confused. “What trailer?”

“You know, on the Sci-Fi channel.”

“The Sci-Fi Channel?” Ben was always patient with Franklin, but his patience was beginning to wear thin. He knew no one else in this house would want to watch the Sci-Fi Channel on New Year’s Eve.

“Yeah, you know,” Franklin’s tone suggested he fully expected his only friend to fully comprehend what he meant. “At midnight the Sci-Fi channel is going to show the H2K trailer.”

“H2K?” Once again, Ben had no idea what his friend was talking about.

“Yeah, the new Halloween movie that will be out next year.”

“Dude, it’s New Year’s Eve! We’re here to watch the ball drop. Besides, the Spice Girls are gonna be on. Wouldn’t you rather see them?” The disappointed look on Franklin’s face suggested he had no interest in the quintet of sexy British singers that were all the rage this past year. He should have expected as much out of his nerdy friend. “Tell you what,” Ben conceded, “I’m sure it will turn up online. You can come over my house later next week and I’ll download it OK?”

Franklin nodded, seemingly agreeing to his friend’s suggestion. Then they both heard the sound of female laughter. From the kitchen Ben could see Lindsey sitting on the living room couch. She was wearing that red and green holiday themed sweater which was his present to her this past week. Her brown hair shined as the still hanging Christmas lights blinked above her like stars floating above a calm sea.

“So,” the voice of his friend brought Ben out of his brief trance. “You’re here with Lindsey?”

In the TV room Ronnie asked, “You playing basketball this year?”  

“Yeah, we’re gonna have a good season.” Lindsey answered confidently, adding “I hope we win districts this year.” She then noticed her friend and teammate Lynda staring blankly off to the side. “What do you think Lynda?” she asked.

“Yeah, I hope so.” Lynda’s voice held no enthusiasm, but she did add, “Amhurst has a good team though.” referring to another school district not terribly far from their tiny little town.

“What’s wrong Lynda, not feeling the holiday spirit?” Lindsey asked.

Staring into the kitchen, Lynda blurted out, “Can I just ask, who invited him?”

Lindsey didn’t like hearing one of the girls complain about Franklin’s presence, but at the same time, she understood. “I think Ben did.” she replied.

“Why?” Lynda asked with a sternness in her voice. “Doesn’t it bother you that he’s friends with that weirdo?”

“Oh, you kids.” Bernice interjected. “Franklin is such a nice boy.”

“You just think he’s nice because he asks you about scary stories all the time. His dad’s a total drunk, you know my mom said he….” Her jaw then froze as she saw Franklin had entered the room with Ben following behind.

Franklin ignored the comment Lynda was about to make, and mostly kept to himself as the night went on. The youths enjoyed the cookies and snacks provided as they watched Dick Clark’s Rockin’ New Year’s Eve, and in time Franklin’s presence went almost unnoticed, as if he were an invisible member of the party. As it drew close to midnight, the moment Ben previously spoke about arrived. All the boys grinned as the Spice Girls performed on the TV. While watching them dance Ben felt a pair of arms wrap around his neck. He could feel the wool from the sweater he’d purchased brush against his skin as Lindsey’s red lips whispered in his ear “So, which Spice Girl would I be.”

“Hmm, that’s a tough choice.” Ben answered as he reached up and playfully squeezed her hands.

A whisper again slipped into his ear as he felt her hot breath say, “Well you can figure it out upstairs.” His eyes then watched her body coyly walk away and ascend up the steps. Ben waited a few minutes before standing up himself. He made like he was going to walk into the kitchen but then quickly turned toward the steps. Quickly glancing back, everyone’s eyes were still on the TV watching the Spice Girl’s performance, except Ronnie. Ben froze as Ronnie looked directly at him, but then Ben noticed the mischievous grin on the old man’s face. Ronnie nodded at him, indicating he knew exactly what the score was before turning his gaze back to the sexy women dancing on the screen.

As Ben climbed to the top of the steps, he saw Lindsey’s slim figure standing in the dark, her arms stretched out waiting for him. She gave a quick kiss on the lips before leading him by hand down the dark corridor. Stopping at a door, she turned around to whisper, “When I was a kid I would stay in this room.” She then audibly gasped, something had startled her. Ben then noticed a faint light coming out the crack of the door, accompanied by inaudible sounds.

“Looks like someone beat you to it.” Ben said, figuring some other couple snuck in here with the same idea. He saw the giddy look on Lindsey’s face as she slowly pushed the door open, expecting to catch some young lovers in the act. Her body then jumped back, in the faint electronic glow Ben could see Lindsey cover her mouth. Before Ben could ask what was wrong, she stormed in her old room and said one word.

“Franklin!” There he was, sitting on the floor by himself, bottle of Jack to his side, and the TV providing the only light in the room. Ben recognized the planet like symbol on the bottom right corner of the TV screen as well as the end credits of show Franklin apparently was just watching. Night Skies, a TV spin-off of that 80’s Spielberg movie about alien abductions, was one of the few things Ben and Franklin shared these days. Franklin came over every week to watch it with him, even though he often complained about it, just like he complained about wrestling; but, like wrestling, he never missed an episode. Sometimes Ben wondered if Franklin just came over to get away from his parents.

“Shh” Franklin was visibly annoyed as he looked back at Lindsey saying, “The trailer’s about to come on.”

Franklin turned back to the TV excited as he watched a clock on the screen counting down. Once it hit zero, he was again visibly annoyed by the cheering downstairs. The new year of 1999 meant nothing to him. The most important thing in his universe at this moment was the trailer for the new Halloween movie.

Leaning closer to the TV screen to turn the volume up, the speakers on the TV emitted sound of keystrokes as digital letters appeared on the screen. Several keystrokes spelled out the words Halloween, apocalypse, then the sound of a 56k modem connecting filled the television speakers as something else was typed on the screen, the number 2000.  

The trailer then cut to some characters who looked like technicians working in a computer lab. One of the female technicians who wore a strange necklace said some lines about the druid calendar. Franklin knew this exposition was just bullshit for the movie, but he listened as the on-screen character explained how the druids believed, according to this movie, that the end of time would not come on January first, as some were predicting with the recent Y2K scare, but on October 31rst. The older male technician said one word in his thick British accent. “Halloween.”

That familiar theme music from the John Carpenter franchise hit as he heard a familiar voice rap over it. Franklin was alien to the world of Hip Hop, but he recognized the voice from Halloween Resurrection of the Vampire. Franklin was pretty sure it was the same rapper from that early 90’s soundtrack that he was hearing now. The lyrics went hard as various characters appeared to come to mysterious deaths. Franklin’s eyes scanned the screen for Easter eggs. It was just a flash of a moment, but on the screen, it was shown someone was looking at a website about the sea monster from Halloween H20. Franklin’s mother took him to see that movie, what was just over a year ago now seemed like another life, before his dad lost his job and found the bottle. Franklin’s momentary lapse in concentration ended as the title Halloween H2K was typed out on the screen. After a quick flash of light another set of text appeared, www.h2k.com

“That was awe…” Franklin excitedly turned around but stopped mid-sentence to see Ben and Lindsey’s embrace. Outside, through the window, fireworks spread across the empty sky. Inside, the couple’s lips were tightly locked, Franklin watched Ben’s hand move up his girlfriend’s torso, inching oh so close to her breast, but it stopped as both their eyes opened to see their nerdy friend kneeling before them, bottle of Jack in hand.

Lindsey gasped aloud as Ben looked down with pity to say. “Oh, sorry bud.” Franklin remained silent. He simply turned away to switch the TV off as he heard Ben say one more thing. “Happy New Year.”

No Gein: Leftovers. Clarice, The First Taste Chapter Five.

September 1993

Carrying his bible into the library, Milton passed Jason, who was sat with some tutor apparently learning to read. with some special tutor teaching him how to read. It burned Milton to know an illiterate like that stacked up more bodies than he did. He quickly sat down and opened his bible to the New Testament to take his mind of this macabre injustice.

Milton hadn’t read these stories since he was a kid, in fact, it was so far back it was before he ever killed anybody. He remembered enjoying this book as a kid, but now this Jesus character sounded like a damn hippy. Milton took some pleasure in imagining he and his family being around back then. His clan would have nailed him to the cross themselves, along with those two thieves Dismas and Gestas, who reminded Milton of those two hippy bastards his family caught when he was a kid.

The Last Supper was certainly an enjoyable story. Milton forgotten all about the stuff about eating Christ’s flesh and drinking his blood. That being the case, Milton re-thought his earlier position. Maybe he and his family would have been apostles after all. They were never one to miss a good meal.

His mind was brought back to the current times by the presence of one of the guards. Without saying a word, the guard placed a newspaper on the table in front of Milton. It was the La Porte County Herald-Dispatch; Milton’s regional newspaper he’d arranged for the prison to carry. Deciding to put his scripture studies aside, the silence of the prison library was disrupted by the turning of the newspaper pages. Milton skipped to the back, something he usually didn’t do when reading, so he could read about how his Alma Matter was doing in high school football. Then he read of church bake sales, bingo sessions, yard sales, and all the things he never gave a shit about otherwise. He even read all the horoscopes even though he didn’t even know what his sign was.

He set the newspaper down, but the front page peaked out at him from behind the other folded pages. The local news section hung on the edge of the table like the Garden of Eden’s forbidden fruit. Just like the produce on the Tree of Knowledge, the temptation was too great. Milton’s hands shook as they gripped the flimsy pages and turned to the police blotter. His eyes quickly scanned the reports of petty theft and vandalism, and breathed a sigh of relief as nothing their caught his eye. It was then that he saw the headline, it hid quietly on the bottom of the page.

 “Police are still looking for Daryl Cunningham. The 17 year old male’s car was found in the Coffee Creek Watershed Preserve ”

Breathing heavily, Milton bowed his head in his hands as the paper lay open before him. He knew that awful truth, she knew it was Clarice. He knew Coffee Creek was one of the spots they’d use to dump a car. His mother probably drove it out, then went for a leisurely hike before being picked up by his father. The silence of the library was broken by a sob accompanied by the sounds of the newspaper being folded up. Shoving the paper to the side, after wiping his eyes Milton saw the Bible still lay open on the table, it’s scripture seemingly mocking him from two millennia ago. Milton could take no more. His hands slammed the holy book shut and angrily pushed it away, causing it to fall on the floor with a thud, causing the pages to open again. “That’s not how we treat our here books sir!” The librarian said sternly. 

Milton got up and walked out, ignoring that four eyed geek who had the gall to scold him. A piece of shit like that would never have dared talked to him like that on the outside. Hell, on the outside he wouldn’t have talked to him period. In the real world if that pencil necked nerd even looked at him wrong Milton would have ripped his damn face off.

“Milton you gonna pick up that shit or are you gonna take a strike?” One of the guards asked. Milton knew full well ‘strikes” were like demerits in school, too many strikes and you lose what little privileges you get in here. Milton had, to the surprise of some, been a model inmate. In fact, he couldn’t even remember if he’d ever gotten a strike. He presumed he would be getting one as he walked out the door.

“What was that all about?” The guard asked the librarian.

“I don’t know. He’s been reading here for years and I never saw him act like that before.”

“Must have read something that didn’t agree with him.” The guard said as he knelt down to pick up the Bible, he saw the Psalm it was open to and read it aloud. “O Lord, rebuke me not in thine anger, neither chasten me in thy hot displeasure.”

“Sounds like ‘thee’ were angry.” the guard lauged as he snapped the book shut.

“Was that Psalm 6?” The librarian asked, fixing his glasses.

“How the fuck would I know?” The man said, tossing the book on the shelf. “I just work here.”

“Oh, ok, well I’ll put it back.” The librarian said as the guard walked away.

“You do that.”

Flipping the book back open, the librarian read the rest of the Psalm.  “O Lord for I am weak. Heal me, my bones are vexed. My soul is also sore vexed, but thou, O Lord, how long? Return, O Lord, deliver my soul: oh save me for thy mercies sake.”

“Lord,” the Librarian quietly prayed, “let that man feel the pulled towards your will, and let him go down the right path.”

September 2003

“You finally brought home dinner.” Emily’s face glowed from the combination of the campfire and the pride she felt for her granddaughter, who’d just told the tale of her first kill. “He tasted great too!”

“Smokers never tase great.” Whitman said as he stood up. The fire was slowly dying out by now, and Clarice’s grandfather poured a pale of water to extinguish the remaining flames.

Milton listened the whole time Clarice told her story. He remained quiet as his family curled up in their sleeping bags in the grass, far off the interstate where no one would see them. Watching the smoke rise from the smoldering pit that was their campfire, he remained sitting, looking out over the darkness while his family began their slumber.

Finally, he layed down on his blanket next to the van. Milton remembered that day so many years ago when he visited the prison Chaplin. Thinking back to that moment as he lay looking up at the stars, he chalked it up to having a weak moment. To his right lay Clarice in her sleeping bag, that teenage boys severed head lay next to her. She was still awake, gazing into the dead head’s eyes, her hands caressed the cold skin as if it were and undead lover. “Yeah, that Clarice is certainly a chip off the old bloc.” He thought to himself. Looking to his left, Milton’s parents were fast asleep. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this while trip was a wild goose chase. Naturally he wouldn’t dare say this aloud, but when passing through their home town he thought about pulling off the interstate and insisting they just go home. However, he could tell this little road trip of death made his father feel alive. Moments like tonight, and in that alleyway in New Jersey, made him feel like it was 1974 all over again. The clan was back together, and mayhem and murder followed. Milton wanted to enjoy every moment he could with both his parents while they were still around. Before they were, before..

Milton now turned upwards to gaze at the stars. He wondered if his brother was up there somewhere. Was it really like they said in those Sunday school stories, was he really up there looking down on him and his family?

“Hey  Frost,” he whispered, waving at stars that died so long ago. “Are you really up there looking down on us?” If so, Milton pondered, then his departed brother could see all the chaos and death he and his family had been causing, and he’d be proud. He’d be be especially proud of his “daughter.” Milton himself never wanted kids, but he remembered Frost always had a soft spot for them. Since the moment he found her as a little baby in the back of that house after dispatching her parents, he loved her like her own. “You’d be proud of her.” he whispered as he again looked over at her, now fast asleep. “She’s a nut like the rest of us.”

“Ah what the hell am I doing, fucking talking to myself.” He muttered while turning to his left side. Past his parents he could see the now extinguished fire pit. The bones and leftover flesh remained burnt on the spit. Remembering the mighty fire that once roared there not long ago, Milton thought to himself. “That’s the kind of place God would send us to, if any of that shit was real.” He remembered those days back in the prison, it was the first time he’d read the holy book since he was a kid. Good stories actually. He particularly liked the Old Testament, all that wrath of God stuff. If those stories are to be believed, then the Almighty stacked more bodies then ten generations of his family could dare dream. The aroma of burnt flesh still tickled his nostrils as Milton thought about the sinners burning in the eternal pit of flames. “Why should he suffer.” Milton pondered. His family would never be that Norman Rockwell slice of Americana. He loved what he did, and he couldn’t imagine living his life any other way.

Rolling over, once again laying on his back, his eyes again scanned the unspeakably large canvas that was the sky above him. “What an amazing work of art this infinite abyss of the cosmos was. Could all of this really be here by accident?” Before his eyes fell asleep, he had one final closing thought. “If there really is something up there,” he muttered to himself before he fell to sleep, “then he created a butcher like me.”

The End