mirror of https://github.com/nealey/Horrors2
126 lines
4.2 KiB
TeX
126 lines
4.2 KiB
TeX
\chapauth{Rummanging}
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\chapter{Nebulous Cupboard}
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This city is my mistress; it is my wife; it is my secretary. All
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that one can feel about a city, I feel it about this one, and more.
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My best friend. I watch the public stream past my window, like a
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river flowing past rocks, the rocks being my small 1 bedroom
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apartment, which was by now dirty and neglected.
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When I leave for my patrol, I do not check for my gun. It is as
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much a part of me as my toenails are of me. I am forced to bring as
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well, my cellular phone. In an ideal world, I could never talk to
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anybody, and all would be good, but it is not so I must. As the
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rickety door rickets behind me as I leave, I cycle though my
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address book.
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{\em ABE}
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{\em CYNTHIA}
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{\em MOM}
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{\em PIZZA HUT}
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{\em DIRECTORIES}
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{\em INFO HOTLINE}
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I ring for ``Abe'', as I am accustomed to doing. A gruff
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New York accent shrieks in my ear.
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``Bavarious! Thank Christ you rang, something's not
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right, need your help immediately! It's coming for me Luke,
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it's {\bf comiii} --- ``. I interrupt him. ``Abe,
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what is this? Where are You?''. I can tell from the tone of
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his voice something isn't right. ``Why didn't you
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phone ME if something's wrong!'' I said.
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``Dammit Bavarious, I ran out of credit, now get your ass over
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here!''. I slapped the phone shut like the jaws of an
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overprotective crocodile, and sprinted for Abe's hut. It
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would be a long run from here, but I can tell he needed me.
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His wooden hut was hidden deep in the forest, the outside seemed
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normal, well as normal as it could seem, Abe being an
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unconventional character to say the least. In one slick
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simultaneuous motion, I kicked the door forcefully, sending the
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thing flying inwards, and swept my Beretta up from my ankle
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holster, a task made significantly more difficult from the kick.
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The lights were all not on, leaving the place shrouded in darkness.
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I heard a noise from a closet, and rushed to meet the source. The
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thin door was locked, so I shot 6 holes in it, allowing me to see
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inside. There was nothing inside but my bullets. I carried on with
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my sweep.
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The lounge: empty. The kitchen: empty. The bathroom: empty, save
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for one poo in the bowl. The Stench was fresh, and strong. Whatever
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left this vile gift was still here. I turn my head to check my
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countenance in the mirror. I am entranced, until I hear a scream
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from upstairs, distinctly Abe. I dart out of the room, and it
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lumbers after me, slowly and scarily. I find Abe's shrouded
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figure huddled in the corner of a blackened room. ``Abe, is
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that you, have you been drinking again? You said you'd
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quit{\ldots}'' I enquired. He looked me in the eye, and raised his
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other hand. The light was so poor, I could not tell what was in it.
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Until he flicked the lighter on. The small light illuminated his
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tear soaked face, running down his cheeks, carving streams through
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the dirt caked on his face. The dirty rag of material hanging from
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the bottle neck became visible. ``I'm sorry
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Bavarious'' he whimpered, and before I had the time to react,
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to light the rag and tossed the bottle high in the air, shattering
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on the ceiling above him. Shards of glass and licks of flame fell
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down like hell fire onto his crumpled body. The house was wooden,
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and the fire spread like wildfire. ``{\bf Aaaaabbbbeeeeeee}'' I
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cried, crying for the loss of a friend. I was forced to vacate the
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house as fast as I could, the flames consuming the hut like the
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mouth of Lucifer. Just as I was maybe 20 feet from the hut, it
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exploded, sending shrapnel every which way. Something rock hard
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struck my head, I hit the floor like a rock, out cold.
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Some unknown time later, the black mist tentatively receded from my
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vision, allowing me to see. It took moments before I recalled where
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I was, and I quickly looked back behind me. Nought but a single
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cupboard stood. I crawled to it, my legs too burned to work.
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Scrambling through the debris, I reached the un-charred doors,
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pock-marked by 6 familiar bullet holes. I tried the doors, now
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inexplicably unlocked. As the doors swung open, the bloodied corpse
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of a small child fell outwards onto me, still clutching his
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teddy-bear. I held the child as he held the bear, desperate for
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solace in our final moments. I jerked my head back and screamed to
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the heavens, and the skies opened.
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