Sunday, April 3, 2011


Aura and her sister Sylvia missed Jonathon. Actually, I do not know if they were blood sisters. Sometimes I think they are. But that is beside the point. They love each other and share everything. They even shared Jonathon. He'd snuggle in with them down some undreground tunnel and all three would have a good time. Sponge baths were their favorite. But that's when he was living with them, back when Papa/Jimmy first came and went berserk. Jonathon always used the mole people in emergencies. They were good for that. He liked the dark tunnels and all the safe hidey-holes. Aura and her 'sister' liked them too. They had private, little alcoves scattered all through Philadelphia's underground passageways. It was their world. They were born there. Now they were laying down, reading some two year old fashion magazine by the orange glow of a sterno fire when the noises started. Little noises they were, no more than rat scufflings. But still somewhat strange. Aura whispered - Who is that? Who's there?....She figured somebody from their band was sneaking up, trying to scare them. The boys would do that sometimes. It's just that she recognized their footsteps and these were different. More bouncy. More jumpy. I don't know. They were just different. Aura wore a big flannel shirt over some flimsy, rayon pajama pants. Sylvia was dressed more or less the same. Then the sterno light flickered. Somebody was moving toward them, disturbing the air currents and kicking up a little, baby breeze. Aura froze, trying to pick up something. She pulled her shirt tight around her and moved close to Sylvia. But when that one scootched in more to make  room, she knocked over the can and the flame went out. Now it was dark, real dark. You  probably never seen darkness like this. It was just like being dead, except you still felt your heartbeat and your brain could think about things.

Whoever was making them crazy noises hopped up a little bit closer. Sounded like he was bouncin' along on the balls of his feet. The girls whispered to each other. You know the kind of stuff...Keep quiet. Don't make any noise. I'm scared. You're scared. We're all scared. Then they heard the whistling. Some song it was. I did  not recall the name. Maybe it was not a real song. Maybe it was just whistling. They pressed into each other. The footsteps stopped. Whoever it was wasn't moving. But then they heard the weak, scratchy laughter and they knew he was close. Things stayed like that for the longest while. Aura got brave. She said - Why you doing this? Why you scarin' us?.....But nobody answered. Sylvia started to cry. She tried not to, but she couldn't help it.

The person, or thing, or whatever it was got down on all fours and crawled closer. They could hear it scrapping over the dirt. Sylvia moaned. She started to wheeze. It was her asthma, don't you know. Then Aura yelped, 'cause somethin' cold, real cold touched her leg. Very light. She could hardly feel it. But she knew it was there, brushing the skin right above her ankle. And that cold, light, brushin' sensation started over on her other ankle too. she whispered - No, No, No......And them she screamed, as strong, dead hands grabbed her shin bones and yanked her away from her 'sister.'. The thing stood up and started to run backwards, dragging her through the gravel-strewn dirt.

Sylvia just layed there, afraid to move, afraid to breathe. And she heard it all, as her best soul mate was devoured alive. She heard the fragile hand bones snap. She heard the kicks, the desperate gasps, the shreiks. She heard the bowels let go and the sickening stench as he ripped into the stomach and tore out the entrails But then it was over. Aura was dead. Yet the hellish meal went on. And when he was done, Johnny Jump Up crawled back to do the same to her.

A few miles away, in a secure chamber deep within the Anti-Enchantment-Bureau Doctor Franklin watched, as J. Fred Muggs killed a victim. The killer monkey screamed with glee, jumping and bouncing and clapping its big ape hands, as the naked 'criminal' trembled in a corner of the cement lined pit. Others from the Bureau watched too. This was something to see, a vampire chimp takes his first meal in captivity. Notes were taken. Recordings were made, both video and audio. It was said a boot-legged version sold on Broad Street for forty dollars. One version made it to the internet. But Zebulon gets away from himself. Remains of the pulverized young man littered the slick, gray floor. There was no cold, blue flame to clean things up a bit. Two low level workers came in to wash everything away with a big hose. But the monkey didn't care. He barely noticed them, 'cause he was all curled up in a bloated stupor sleepin' off his  fine repast.

This sure is some kinda wonderland...Ain't it?

1 comment:

John L. Harmon said...

Freaky, Billy!
No sleep for me tonight!