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Twins in Death: Chapter Six – Part Five

Twins in Death

A Tale of The Weirdo

By Brett N. Lashuay



Chapter Six: To Plan a Meeting



October 24th, 2002

7:03 a.m.


            The Weirdo was running in a field where rain was coming down hard. He could see the car ahead of him and as he ran he could tell that something was behind him. He didn’t turn, but just ran. He heard a buzzing in his ears. He knew what this prefaced and ran in fear, trying to keep his body moving this time, hoping momentum would keep him going.


            His body stopped, in fact everything stopped and then began to morph. He fell and found himself lying in his room. He reached out quickly and turned the lamp on. No light came from the lamp. There was enough light for him to see, but he couldn’t get any other light. There was whispering coming from the other side of the bed. He tried to whip around to see who it was, but to no avail.


            It happened abruptly, his body tightened and he was pulled to the bed. He knew he was dreaming at that moment, and a wave of fear rushed through him. Unable to move, he shifted his legs to no avail. He opened his mouth and tried to scream but no words came out. He could barely move his head but that didn’t help. His arms were frozen at his side and his legs could only shift a little bit if at all. There were lights flashing, and he could hear little voices. He felt like he was floating, trying to move but his body wouldn’t let him. The voices became louder and he tried to scream again. He knew he was dreaming, that he was trapped in a moment of paralysis and there was nothing he could do about it. They began to laugh and scream as the lights flashed more brightly. He clenched his teeth and tried to concentrate on waking up, of moving even a tiny part of his body, of breaking free, of doing anything. He was screaming in his mind to wake up. The buzzing in his ears had taken over his entire head now, and something was pressing down on him, causing his heart to stop and his lungs to expel all their air.


            Then he woke up.


            The Weirdo took in great gasping lungful of air as he came awake suddenly. He’d been plagued with sleep paralysis since he was a child. It always came when he was a bit stressed. He shivered from the remembered terror of the only thing in the world that truly scared him. It was a horrible joke on him that the only time he dreamed lucidly was during an attack of sleep paralysis. Lucid dreaming is supposed to be a wonderful thing, unless the only time you manage is while you’re body refuses to obey your commands and you can’t in anyway scream for help. He sat up in bed slowly and placed his feet on the ground, making sure they would move by stretching them out. He got control of his breathing and closed his eyes.


            As he closed his eyes, unbidden and unlooked for, a face came out of the darkness. It was the face of a woman, not a particularly remarkable one either. The face was attached to a body, a body that had been struck down by the random bullet, which had been part of a spray of bullets. The drive-by shooting had been instigated to kill one drug dealer, and it killed two old men and crippled one woman. Now her face, filled with pain and confusion, looked at The Weirdo in the darkness. He was suddenly back in that street, wrapping his coat around her midsection in an attempt to stem the bleeding.


            Her mind had been a veritable transmitter as he came close to her, and he received. The Weirdo had to consciously concentrate to keep himself from lapsing into the panic she was transmitting. She had been hurt, and she couldn’t feel her legs, and she thought she was going to die, and there was little he could do for her.


            Oh, he saved her life, of course he did. He was able to slow the bleeding and get her to a medical facility fast enough to save her life, but her spinal cord had been cut. He knew where she was now in fact, with only twenty percent of her motor control below her waist. He knew where she was and knew how the event had affected her promising architecture career. It hadn’t destroyed it, or her, but it had an adverse effect on her life.


            He didn’t want to go back to bed now, in fact he wanted to stay up forever. He looked back at the bed and knew that they would have to come to this point again. He would lay down again, and would sleep again. It might be a while before it happened again, but it would happen. He couldn’t keep away from the bed forever. He knew he’d be back. He knew it with the inevitability that went along with the fact that he knew he would be killed soon. He somehow had just come to the conclusion that he would be killed very soon, within the next few days.


            He had to keep this fact in his mind, because he had to be ready to jump when he was killed. He didn’t know what that meant, but he thought that the word jump had been put in that sentence as a placeholder. Jump was the wrong word, but it was close to the right word and the right word didn’t exactly exist. He had to be ready to jump though, when he died. It would be important to jump, and to get hold of some crackers.



October 24th, 2002

10:22 a.m.


            Tommy was walking around some small shops when he saw a young woman watching him. She looked away quickly when she noticed that he had seen her. He put it down to his not being a bad looking guy. He did notice the large purple backpack she had on, with the large red embroidered cross on the back. She walked away and went around a corner. Tommy went back to the rack of books that he had been looking at when he noticed another young girl. This one was dressed in a purple denim coat with a similar red cross embroidered on it. He filed this away in the slightly suspicious category and let it go at that. If he saw more he might think of putting them into his little gang notebook that he kept, to make sure he knew everyone in town.


            His mind was caught off guard though, when he noticed that two gang members who should have been at war were walking together. They were talking in hushed tones to each other, which was odd enough. The two were from rival gangs and they weren’t even in their territory. A member of the gang whose territory they were in approached them.


            Tommy’s hand touched the butt of his pistol under his coat, ready for the firefight, but it never came. Instead the third began to talk quietly to the other two, they seemed scared, or at least worried. A few moments went by and the three of them walked away from each other in different directions. This was odd, but these things did happen from time to time. If nothing else the fear each of them had was telling. It was possible that these three had been involved in some small deal their betters would not approve of.


            Tommy filed this away, but had other errands to run. He should have perused at least one of them, but it would take time and which one to follow? He had other errands today, and thus left them behind. If this was the first time he’d noticed, there would be other opportunities before anything happened. There was always time, it was one of his mantras, or it would be if he had mantras.



October 24th, 2002

11:15 a.m.


            Jack and Rutherford sat by the large swimming pool as it slowly drained. Jack was draining it for the winter and Rutherford was watching. The water was down low enough that it was spinning away down the drain, the drain was even giving little gurgling noises as it sucked the water away. The water would have sparkled in the light if there hadn’t been a complete cloud cover overhead. It was a little too cold to do this today, but he had said he would do it days ago and he was sick of waiting for a sunny day. He and Rutherford were wearing matching outfits. The same white sweater and jeans were being worn by both of them. It hadn’t been intentional on Jack’s part, but he couldn’t be sure about his young son. Young boys after all have an attraction to be like their fathers.


            “Aren’t we going to drain this, as well?” Rutherford asked pointing towards the reflecting pool that was near the house.


            “Afterwards.” Jack said nodding. “I want to make sure this drains properly first.”


            “Okay.” Rutherford looked at the reflecting pool. He played with the water and laughed at the patterns on the water.


            A reflecting pool is a shallow pool of water that acts like a mirror to give a double view of certain monuments. Unless you happen to be at The Weirdo’s Manor, in which case, the reflecting pool in a large shallow pool with a mirror as its base what runs in an arc around the double bulge of the library and ballroom. That side of the house faces north and the mirror is positioned to reflect the sun into a part of the house that wouldn’t get it otherwise. There are statues along the reflecting pool that are reflected in the pool but it is mostly a toy to send light into the house.



October 24th, 2002

12:21 p.m.


            “Yo Davey!” P-Mang said as he opened Davey’s door said. “It’s time to…”


            P-Mang’s voice had died away when he entered Davey’s little apartment. Paulie had bumped into him because he hadn’t expected the tall man to simply stop in the doorway. He was annoyed and gave P-Mang a short shove to get him moving. As P-Mang didn’t move he shoved his way around.


            “Hey come on P, let’s… holy shit.”


            They both stood still in the doorway, looking up at Davey. P-Mang’s stomach revolted at the sight and he turned his head to vomit. The puke sprayed copiously from his mouth and landed on Davey’s bed, splattering on the headboard. Paulie looked and walked towards where Davey had been hung, while looking back at P-Mang.


            Neither of them were what you might call intellectuals as they were street thugs. The opening of the human mind through knowledge wasn’t as important as the opening of the human wallet through force. Had Paulie known a bit more about the world, he might have known the word vivisection. Had he known that word, and its associated meaning, he would have used it.


            What looking at Davey reminded him of though, was this horror movie he had seen as a kid. It was a movie where someone opened a puzzle box and all these hooks on chains sank into the guy. A man with pins in his head tore the guy up, messed him up pretty bad. That was what this reminded Paulie of as he looked at what was left of Davey’s face.


            The face was actually still intact. It was just that it had just been peeled away and then pinned to the scalp with long dress pins. The body had been cut open and hung like a piece of pork in a butcher’s window. No, that wasn’t right because the pork was just hung on one single hook. Rather Davey was hung on many hooks with chains. Hooks and pins were holding his chest open like two great flaps, and his stomach was hooked as well as his heart which was hanging outside the body on a hook dangling from a chain.


            “Fuck me.” P-Mang said. “Fuck me good and hard.”


            “You think Loki did this?” Paulie asked.


            “Man I knew he’d be mad about that fight last night.” P-Mang said.


            “But did Loki do this?”


            “Who else man, I knew he’d be mad. Man why’d we listen to Davey man?”


            “Shit.” Paulie said. “This is a fucking sign man.”


            “No shit.” P-Mang said. “So let’s get the fuck outta here.”


            “No man.” Paulie said. “Everybody knows what happened last night already.”




            “So we gotta bring everybody here.”


            “You fucking crazy?”


            “He wants everybody to see this.” Paulie said. “Ain’t no doubt that’s what he wants.”


            “Fuck man.” P-Mang said. “He’s fucking crazy, you must be crazy too.”


            “He does indeed want you to bring everyone.” A voice said behind them.


            Their blood froze, both of them in fact looked like they each had an ice cube shoved up their butts. They turned slowly like a pair of comic actors from the days of limelight. They knew him before their eyes fell upon him. They should know him, since he was their liege lord. The way he looked just like The Weirdo was amazingly creepy to Paulie, but he dared not looked away. Looking away would have shown weakness, which his lord would not allow.


            “Hi Loki.” Paulie’s voice quavered as he talked.


            “Paulie.” Loki’s voice said taking a step forward and placing it on Paulie’s shoulder. “You were going to get everyone here today to see this?”


            “Well, it’s a sign isn’t it?”


            “Yes.” Loki said nodding and smiling like a contented teacher who has heard the right answer.


            “Sure Loki.” Paulie said trying not to fall to his knees and beg forgiveness. “I’ll do it.”


            “Good boy.” Loki said.


            “So we’ll just go then.” P-Mang said as Paulie headed for the door.


            “Not you.” Loki said grabbing P-Mang by the hair. “Paulie, you go and show them what ruining my plans does, P-Mang and I have to have a discussion about calling a God crazy.”


            “Right Loki.” Paulie said and shut the door behind him.


            He stood at the door for a moment, hearing P-Mang already beginning to beg Loki for mercy. He heard the screaming begin, and thought he could hear Loki’s rasping breath coming. He heard P-Mang’s voice moan and then scream and moan again. He heard P-Mang begin to beg again.


“No Loki, please Loki, oh dear god Loki!”


            He didn’t know what was happening to P-Mang and he didn’t want to know. At worst P-Mang might have to take it up the ass or something, but Loki had a streak of anger in him. Paulie beat it down the hall as P-Mang’s screams followed him. He thought that probably there wasn’t going to be just Davey’s body they would be looking at today. He wondered if P-Mang would try to offer Loki Angie to save his own skin. He thought he might, but he also thought it wouldn’t help. He had called their God crazy, and Paulie knew he deserved to die for that. When your God walks among you, you shouldn’t call him crazy lest he appear behind you.


© 2012 Autumn Knight Productions

March 6, 2013 - Posted by | Fiction | ,

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