mirror of https://github.com/nealey/Horrors2
103 lines
4.3 KiB
TeX
103 lines
4.3 KiB
TeX
\chapauth{scarycactusjunior}
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\chapter{The Runaway}
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Jimbo hawked a giant ball of phlegm between his dangling feet off
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the boat dock and stared into the murky water as he watched his
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creation sink to the murky inky depths of the lake. Watching it, he
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thought long and hard about his current situation with his Pa. Pa
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was starting to frighten him with his publicly known alcoholism.
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Every horrible night Pa would sit on the porch of the rustic swamp
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cabin in the wicker rocking chair by the front door and drink his
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Coors repeatedly for hours. And then, with his eyes horridly
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bloodshot he would come stomping back into the cabin and find Jimbo
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for the nightly beating. Sometimes the beatings were so bad they
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would leave Jimbo in a sobbing heap, his blood and tears mixing
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together on his lips. Pa wasn't always like this, Jimbo had
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vague memories of happier times; the sunshine days of his early
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childhood when his mother was still alive and Pa hadn't drank
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so much.
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Jimbo heard the front door of the cabin slam, followed by
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Pa's heavy, booted footfalls. The wicker rocker began to
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creak. Jimbo noticed that the sun was rapidly sinking, the drinking
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would begin soon, followed by the almost ritualistic beating.
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Jimbo thought to himself. He thought that he didn't have to
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return to the cabin. He could make Pa come looking for him in the
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swamp, at night, while drunk. Decided, Jimbo arose and proceeded to
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make his way deep into the swamp, trying to get as far away from
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the cabin before full dark made it impossible to find his way
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through the swamp. He tried not to think of how the cypress trees
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looked like forlorn entities locked forever in their torment
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because of the way the fading daylight lit them, or of the stories
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his friend Benny used to tell about the Swamp Creature.
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The Swamp Creature was said to be a being of such hideous
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countenance that it would drive any who were unfortunate to see its
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horrible face completely and totally insane. Privately Jimbo
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thought it was the thing that had made the crocodile eat his mother
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all those years ago. Jimbo remembered the sight of all that blood
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on the water; red blood on black water that boiled and roiled like
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a vicious tempest. Jimbo shuddered and tried to push those thoughts
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out of his mind.
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Distracted as he was, Jimbo slipped on a patch of slimy mud and
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slid on his buttocks a little way into the swamp-water. He jumped
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up quickly and stared wild-eyed around him, looking out for crocs.
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His heart was pounding; he could feel the blood pounding in his
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ears. Suddenly, he was very afraid. He fought the sob welling up
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within him and went on his way. It was too late to turn back.
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He saw something then, a glint of gold in the reeds. Bending down
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to get a closer look, he noticed it was a badge of some sort. Jimbo
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picked it up and felt a feeling dread wash over him; it was a
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slightly tarnished police badge. Jimbo read the name on it
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aloud.
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``Bavarius{\ldots}''
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There was a squelching sound behind him, and Jimbo turned around to
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come face-to-face with a creature straight out of nightmares. It
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looked like it had been a man once, but now it had no eyes and only
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one shriveled ear remained. It looked almost half-melted and
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inhuman.
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Jimbo vomited great jets of putrid vomit into the swamp. Some of it
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landed on the Creature and made it even more horrendous to look at.
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Jimbo vomited again until he could vomit no more. Tears sprang into
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his eyes and he sobbed loudly, vainly. The Swamp Creature moved its
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stumpy arm to catch the paralyzed Jimbo and crush him into the
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once-chest. It breathed its foul swampy breath into Jimbo's
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face as it spoke.
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``I am Luke Bavarius.''
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At only thirteen years old, young Jimbo went instantly
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insane.
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Two days later, there was an article in the newspaper about a
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bizarre murder that had happened out at Old Man James's
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cabin. Old Man James had been found dead in his wicker rocking
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chair, a brass police badge shoved into his jugular. He had not
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even dropped the beer he had been holding. On the cabin walls
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behind him, written in blood and vomit was a single cryptic word
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scrawled over and over: ``Bavarius''. Police searched the
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cabin and found James's son rocking on his heels in the back
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room, wearing only urine-stained briefs and giggling softly to
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himself. He was taken into custody and placed in the State mental
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hospital, where he remains to this day singing softly to himself
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over and over.
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``Bavarius.''
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