mirror of https://github.com/nealey/Horrors2
87 lines
3.2 KiB
TeX
87 lines
3.2 KiB
TeX
\chapter[Dead Tired]{Dead Tired\\Horrid Reflection: Gaiden}
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\by{Count Snapula}
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Luke Bavarious woke up from a horrid dream in his Manhattan
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apartment. He was vomiting sweat from every pore in his body. It
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was exactly 6:36 in the evening, according to his digital clock. It
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was blinking red. The color of satan. Luke had been having the same
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nightmare for a week now. He was on duty looking into noise
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disturbances when he was assaulted by a horrid monster, that was
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maybe himself. Not even his trusty Beretta could save him from the
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undead menace. Detective Bavarious grimaced grimly as he put on a
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dirty wifebeater and some slacks that smelled faintly of hobo
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urine.
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Walking to his refrigerator, Bavarious picked up the ubiquitous
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Beretta off the toilet on the way there. He searched through the
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crisper intensely, only to find a week-old tuna sandwich and a
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single piece of knockwurst.
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``Jesus fucking christ. I wish my wife didn't leave me,'' bemoaned
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Bavarious as he settled for the tuna. The bitterness over his ugly
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divorce almost masked the taste of sour mayonnaise. With some
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sustenance in his stomach, he began shaving over the kitchen sink.
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Though Bavarious was uncannily dexterous with a Gillette{\copyright}
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Fusion razor, something caught his eye in the reflection of the
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faucet, and he made a deep gash in his face. Rust-colored blood
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began to spray out, but fortunately Bavarious was able to hold back
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the flood with a wash cloth.
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``Man, I must be going crazy or somethin','' muttered Bavarious to
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himself as he opened his last can of Coor's Light, which responded
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with a concerned '{\em pfffssssssht}'. Turning around to look out
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the window and watch homeless people fight over garbage until his
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shift began, Luke finally saw the culprit of the Razor Incident: an
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enormous crow, black as midnight, holding a human eye in his beak.
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Never to be caught off guard, Bavarious emptied his clip into the
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horrid avian intruder. As he went to confirm the death of the crow,
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he saw something that drained all the blood from his face.
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Below on the fire escape was his ex-wife, her intestines trailing
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out of her corpse and one eye pecked out of its socket. Seeing
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this, Bavarious vomited uncontrollably out the window and onto the
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grisly scene.
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``Who could have done something like this?!'' Shouted Luke Bavarious,
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once he had regained control of his bowels. Suddenly, he felt his
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hands bound behind him, with the familiar click of handcuffs.
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``You did, Detective Luke Bavarious.'' Replied an NYPD officer, who
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had just walked in with three others through his open apartment
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door. Suddenly, those dreams all made sense to him. ``You've done
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well by me, Luke Bavarious,'' whispered a terrible, gravelly voice
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in his ear. He could tell it wasn't the cop taking him to the
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street, because he had been punched in the balls as a kid and now
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he talked like Elmo.
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``What have you done?!'' Luke struggled to break free from his
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captors. But in the end, he knew it was true. The real captor was
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himself.
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``Go to sleep, Luke. I'll take care of this,'' the voice whispered
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smugly. Luke suddenly passed out, then. When he woke up, he was
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covered in rusty red blood down to his buttocks, and all four cops
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were dead.
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