Kyle was trying to finish up a job in his backyard shop, when he remembered the new saw blade that he bought from the box store was still inside the house. He was anxious to try out this latest purchase. The associate in the tool section sold him on the cutting performance of the blade with 80 teeth. Kyle had always used a blade with 68 teeth, but decided to pay a little extra based on the steadfast recommendation.
As he exited the shop and headed toward his back door, he heard a faint, high-pitched, chirping noise, coming from beside a large oak tree. Kyle went to investigate the sound and noticed a tiny baby squirrel lying almost motionless at the base of the tree. He knelt down beside the injured squirrel to get a better look at it. Its eyes were closed, and it was taking very rapid, short breaths. Kyle assumed that it must have fallen out of the tree. He looked up, trying to spot a nest or the mother of the wounded squirrel, but saw nothing. Kyle hated to see the hapless animal suffering, but wasn’t sure how he could help it.
The animal let out another pain-filled screech and barely opened its eyes. Kyle looked into the eyes of the dying squirrel and knew that he had to do something. He retrieved a cardboard box from his shop and placed it beside the squirrel to block the scorching sunlight. Kyle went inside to get a bottle of water and his phone. He poured a small amount of water onto the squirrel in an attempt to cool it off and make its suffering a little more bearable. Then, he pulled out his phone and searched, what to do if you find a dying baby squirrel.
A plethora of information appeared on the screen. Kyle quickly scanned the top few results, and the overwhelming answer was to contact wildlife rescue and rehabilitation. He then searched, wildlife rescue and rehabilitation near me. The closest location was over 30 miles away, but he clicked the number to call. The phone rang five times, then a recording started. Thank you for calling Dawn Lakes Animal Rescue and Rehabilitation, we are currently closed. If you would like to…
Kyle hung up the phone and knelt beside the squirrel once more. A white foam-like substance was beginning to flow from its mouth, and the breathing appeared to be even more labored than before. He knew he had to end the suffering of this poor animal, but the thought alone gave Kyle extreme anxiety. He recalled a time, hunting with his grandfather, when he had a perfect shot on a deer, but just couldn’t pull the trigger. His grandfather called him a worthless pansy, and later told Kyle’s father that he failed to raise a man.
Kyle went into his shop and looked around for something that would make it quick and painless. After slight deliberation, Kyle decided on the flat shovel. He made his way to the squirrel and looked down upon it. He knew that this was the right thing to do, but it didn’t make it any easier. His heart began to beat fast and his hands trembled. He knew he had to get it right the first time, as to not prolong its agony. Kyle gripped the handle of the shovel, raised it high over the squirrel, and brought it down with a forceful chop. The shovel hit its mark, bisecting the animal in half, leaving a portion of the carcass in the ground with the square end of the tool.
A feeling of overwhelming malaise and sadness engulfed his being, and tears began to form in the corners of his eyes. With the handle still clutched, Kyle snatched the shovel from the dirt, leaving two separate pieces of the squirrel’s body. He scooped the pieces up and shoveled them into the box. Kyle then took the box behind his shop, dug a hole, and buried the dead squirrel. After the last of the dirt filled in the little grave, he stood over the mound and said a prayer.
Kyle really didn’t feel like finishing the work now, but thought that it might be a good way to take his mind off of the previous lamentable events. He walked inside to get the new saw blade, still unnerved from the experience. Back in his shop, he opened the package, affixed it to the saw, wiped the remaining tears from his eyes, and continued dismembering the blonde prostitute for disposal.
As blood sprayed and flesh and bone were severed, Kyle thought to himself, that fella at the store was right. Those extra teeth do make a huge difference.
Guy opened the door to Clyde’s, surveyed his surroundings, and took a stool at the bar. Being a Tuesday night, only a smattering of patrons were present. It was a fairly upscale establishment that would probably be packed with the office crowd in the evenings, and socialite types on the weekends. The bartender casually made his way over to Guy.
“What can I get for you?”
“I’ll just start with a draft beer for now, thanks.”
The bartender returned with the beer and placed it in front of Guy.
“Would you like to start a tab? If not, it’ll be $4.50.”
Guy peeled off a ten dollar bill and slid it toward the bartender.
“Keep the change. Hey, can I ask you a question?”
“Whatcha got?”
“I was wondering if you know anything about a fella by the name of Barry Jacobson.”
He obviously knew something about Barry by the perplexing look that he gave Guy. The bartender appeared visibly shaken by the mention of this name. He looked down and shook his head back and forth, before putting the money in the register and returning to face Guy.
“Obviously you haven’t heard. Hell, where do I start? Yeah, Barry came in here once or twice a week on average. That is until….”
The bartender reached for a pack of smokes, pulled one out, lit it, and continued.
“…well, until the bloodbath happened. Barry was arrested for the murder of his wife. But it wasn’t just your typical ‘husband kills wife’ murder. No, it was much more gruesome than that. It was all over the local news. I’m surprised you didn’t hear about it. That poor woman was tortured, then basically gutted and dismembered. They said it looked like a scene straight from a horror movie.”
He asked the few patrons that were spaced out across the bar if they needed anything. Then he took a drink from a glass that was under the bar, a long draw off his cigarette, and turned back toward Guy.
“I couldn’t believe it personally. I mean, I wasn’t friends with Barry or anything, but he was a very personable guy. Not one that you would think could do some horrific shit like that. But that’s just it. He vehemently claimed his innocence, but the police and detectives found no forcible entry, no evidence of anyone else at the scene, and it definitely wasn’t a suicide. The investigators only found her blood on him and throughout the house and his bloody footprints. He said that it was from him finding her like that, and that he was passed out drunk during the killing. Personally, when I saw his interview on the news, he seemed believable, but there just isn’t another logical explanation. You ready sir?”
The bartender cashed out an older gentleman, thanked him for coming in, took another long pull from his cigarette and proceeded with the story.
“I mean, it was none of my business, but I did see him in here with different women from time to time. I never saw his wife with him, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that he would kill her. Although, all signs do point to him. You can’t argue with evidence, circumstantial or not. I would have never guessed that he was capable of such a thing, especially seeing his interview before they arrested him. He’s got some real good acting chops, aside from his story and all.”
“Story?” Guy asked, as he slid his empty glass away from him.
“Oh, goddamn! Yes, his story. That’s the best part. If this kind of shit could have a best part. Not only did he say that he was passed out drunk, and woke to find her like that, but he claimed that a ghost had to have killed her. Do you believe that shit? Needless to say, the detectives didn’t put an APB out on Casper for the killings.”
The bartender started laughing, but quickly regained his composure.
“I’m sorry. Hell, I shouldn’t laugh. A beautiful young woman is dead, but holy shit, you’d think he would have thought that out a little more. You know what I’m saying?”
Guy nodded in agreement and said, “I know what you mean. So is he in jail now?”
“Jail? Hell no.They locked that crazy animal up at the Bellmore Institution. That’s worse than any maximum security prison that you could think of. That’s where they put the criminally insane. The absolute dregs of society are in that place. If you end up there, you aren’t getting out. There’s no parole or anything like that at the Bellmore. Rumor has it that they still do horrendous experimental treatments there. It’s basically legal torture. However, nobody really knows. No one has ever come out of there alive to tell about it. So, did you know Barry?”
“Yeah, Barry was my business partner a few years back and we became quite good friends. We started a software company together then sold it for a fairly hefty price. We were living the dream, smoking good cigars and drinking the finest whiskeys. They left us on as consultants and things couldn’t have been any better. That is, until I found out that Barry was having an ongoing affair with my wife.”
“Holy shit. That had to be a blow to you,”
“You can say that again. I went absolutely crazy. I felt like my whole world crumbled, and I couldn’t trust anyone anymore.”
“Damn man. I’m sorry to hear that. I guess the news about Barry fooling around doesn’t come as a complete shock to you then. But hey, you’re doing a hell of a lot better than him now. You have that going for you.”
“Yeah, everything worked out the way it should’ve,” Guy said, with a slight grin.
“So did you divorce your wife after you found out?”
“No. I killed myself.”
Guy got up from his stool, walked out of the bar, and disappeared into the street.
Kenny opened his eyes slowly, but the miniscule amount of sunlight coming in from the inch of open curtains was enough to make him squeeze them back shut. His head ached and his stomach was twisted with pain. The thirst that he felt was immeasurable. Kenny pulled himself from the comfort of the plush hotel bed and staggered toward the sink for handfuls of tap water. As he sucked down copious amounts of liquid, he attempted to put the pieces of the previous night together.
Kenny was the singer of an up-and-coming band known as Winter’s Dread. He remembered opening the show for the well known, regional act, Gloomy Forebodings, then drinking, doing blow with the headlining act, and meeting some girls after the show. Kenny’s band played music on the extremely heavy side, so the majority of attendees were usually young and sweaty guys looking to fight. It shocked him that a fair amount of attractive girls were at the show.
He found a towel on the tile floor and picked it up to wipe his mouth and face. The room was mostly dark, but obvious that it was littered with empty beer and liquor bottles. Kenny made his way back toward the bed. He just needed a few more hours of sleep before the band or their road manager would be knocking on his door. As he went to lay back down, he was able to make out a figure on the opposite side of the bed.
Kenny then had a memory of a sexy blonde in a cut-off black t-shirt and short jean shorts, that came on to him pretty hard the previous night. She was with the group of girls backstage, and this one had taken a liking to him. A faint recollection of the two of them snorting heroin off a guitar case entered his brain. He then recalled getting head from her while others were in the room. He wished he could put more of the night together, but it all melded into a fuzzy blur.
Kenny crawled into the bed to snuggle up to the mystery girl. He wanted to make some memories that couldn’t be forgotten. As soon as his naked skin touched hers, he felt the cold, clamminess of death. Kenny instantly released the tit of the corpse, retreated back, and sat up on the bed. He switched on the side lamp and slowly turned to investigate. The once living, breathing, sexy blonde, was now wide-eyed, stiff, and lifeless, with dried vomit down the side of her face.
Kenny frantically began to switch on every light in the room. He knocked over bottles in his haste, which heightened his anxiety further. The room had to be cleared of any illegal activity before he could do anything else. He flushed every baggie that he found, empty or otherwise, and continued his search.
Kenny found the purse of the dead girl and looked inside. He removed her wallet to search for an I.D. A driver’s license was visible through a clear portion of the wallet. Jessica Stevens was her name, and she was only…16 years old! Kenny’s heart dropped, his breath quickened, and a feeling of despair overtook him.
Kenny thought, not only is this girl dead, but she’s underage, and she died from drugs that I gave her. He fell to his knees and broke down. Kenny knew that there was no way out of this. Thoughts of gloom, sadness, and regret overwhelmed his being.
The eyes of the cadaver seemed to follow Kenny everywhere in the room he went. He covered her head with the sheet, sat on the bed, and put his face in his hands. Kenny knew that he had to call the police and give this girl the respect that she deserved. He was terrified, but knew of no other option than to face the dismal consequences.
Kenny picked up the phone with trembling hands, but before he could dial, there was a loud pounding on the door.
“Police. Open the door,” a gruff voice shouted from the other side.
Before Kenny could do anything, the door exploded open, and large monkey-like beasts rushed toward him. The largest creature opened its mouth and revealed large jutting fangs. Just before they entered Kenny’s skull, he woke in a panic.
Kenny shot up in the bed, switched on the side lamp, and looked around. He was in the same hotel room, but there weren’t bottles everywhere, and best of all, there wasn’t a dead girl beside him. In fact, there was no one there but him.
Kenny sighed deeply and let out a slight chuckle. It was just a dream, he thought, as he laid back on the comfy, down pillows.
However, the relief that Kenny felt didn’t last long. The entire hotel began shaking violently. He had been in a few earthquakes in the past, but never over twenty stories in the air. Kenny was about to leave his room and find the stairwell, when the shaking intensified. Rumblings, deafening crashes, and sounds of devastation flooded his ears. Screams of terrified and dying people could be heard all around. The hotel started to crumble and break apart. Massive chunks of falling debri rained down on him, and the floor began to give way from under his feet.
Kenny was awakened by his bunk shaking. It was lights out, and his cellmate, Big Chocolate, was ready for another piece of ass.
Gloomy Forebodings 