Behind Closed Doors 3/4 - Gundam Wing
Sep. 29th, 2004 11:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
yellowhordeDisclaimer: I don't own Wing and I make no money from this or any
other story I write.
Pairings: None
Category: Horror/AU (Alternate Universe)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Moments of scariness
Poor Duo! If he had only confided his fears of the dark and
mysterious things that slither and go bump in the night to his foster
parents. Then he could have avoided all this fluff and nonsense all
together. It would have all been over in no time at all.
To put it simply, no monster, no matter how fearsome, no matter how
slimy, stood a snowball's chance in a very warm place against the
strong, unwavering certainty of an adult. That calm assurance in all
matters of night time terrors. To a grown-up, monsters, at least the
kind that lurked in the usual childhood haunts, such as in closets,
under beds, in the dark recesses under the stairs simply DID NOT
exist. There was simply no room for doubt in their minds.
I'm not saying that grown-ups are never afraid. Who am I to try to
lie to you? Grown-ups, especially parents, actually spend a great
deal of time being scared. Or should I say being very "worried'.
(That's the adult equivalent of shaking in their combat boots
terrified.)
I'm sure you have all heard this line -or one very similar- at one
time or another while growing up: " Where have you been? Didn't you
know how worried I was! I almost sent the cops looking for you!"
See? Constantly worried equals scared. Try getting your mom and dads
to admit it though. Now, THAT is hard.
Adults "worry" about cavities, about your grades, your eye sight.
They constantly fret over drugs, smoking, the rising crime rate, and
teenage pregnancy. College tuition and learner permits. Oh my! Adults
fear all kinds of things, but closet monsters? Vampires? Cooties?!
They just don't come even close to the top of the list. No sirree!
But the poor dear boy had a difficult childhood. Duo had grown to
care for his foster family over the past four months, yes, he maybe
even loved them a little. Hell, let's be honest. He DID love them. A
LOT! Even little Alexis who spit up on his shoulder every! single!
time! he picked her up. But, hey, that was just what babies did. Eat,
sleep, and puck up on your freshly washed shirts. Yuck! Gross out!
But... it was an accepted fact of life. Live with it, or don't have
children. It was just that simple.
But the real issue was not if he loved them, for he did. With all his
heart. The real issue was trust. Did he trust his foster parents?
Really trust them? Well... let's think about that for a moment.
Giving someone your trust is a very big deal. It takes a lot of guts
to trust someone, because just like love, trust can be betrayed.
Shattered. Sometimes it didn't take much to sever that delicate bond,
either. Nope, delicate as a snow flake, is our friend, Trust.
Duo trusted his foster parents not to hurt him, not to scream and
yell in drunken, slurred voices. He trusted them to feed, clothe, and
keep a roof over his head and to take care of him. He trusted them to
make a fuss when he skinned his knees and elbows, to cuddle him and
to kiss the booboo and make it feel all better. So, yes, in a way he
did trust. Trusted in the way only a child could.
BUT... in this oh so important matter concerning the creepy crawlies
that inhabited his closet, the slimy creatures that lived under his
bed, and the invisible specters that haunted the laundry room? Sorry
to have to break it to you, folks, but the young Duo Maxwell did not
trust anyone with those important secrets. Not Roseanne, not Jeff,
not even the nice counselor man who had sent him to his new family.
The one with the huge elephant-like ears and the gaudy turquoise
watch.
What if the child told any of these people about his fears and...
they didn't believe him? Worse yet, what if they made fun of him?
Laughed themselves into hysterics? Called him a baby, chicken, scardy
cat...?
What if they considered him to be a coward, a sissy, or worse! Some
sort of weirdo crazy freak who needed to be locked away in a padded
room forever and ever? What if they stopped loving him, caring for
him? That simply would not do. There was too much riding on the line.
So, in the end, Duo told no one about the terrible ordeal he was
going through. There was simply too much at stake. Too much to lose.
Sooo, he suffered in silence and lost a LOT of sleep.
*****
A few days after the laundry room incident, (a beautiful sunny, if
frigidly cold Saturday) Duo was out shopping with Roseanne and
Alexis. His foster mother slowly pushed the cart through the crowded
store, meandering from point A to point B calmly. Stopping now and
then to glance at this label or that nutritional guide. She was
trying to watch her 'girlish figure'. This just didn't make any sense
to the small boy. She looked very girlish to him, with full breasts,
and ample hips. Long legs and that sunny smile. Those dancing
friendly eyes, so full of laughter. Just like a mother.
Why she obsessed with her weight was anyone's guess. No one could
call her overweight by any stretch of the imagination. If anything,
she needed to put on a few pounds.
(Must be a girl thing.) Duo mused silently, then winced as Alexis
grabbed double fist fulls of his hair and yanked hard.
"Oooouuuuch!"
Duo had been doing his part of keeping the baby out of Roseanne's way
by giving the queen of drool piggyback rides up and down the aisles.
This fascinated the toddler to no end. Especially when the violet
eyed boy had been prancing about and making sounds like a pony. All
that came to a screeching halt when the bundle of joy started using
his hair as reins.
Now, he let her walk about, if walking was what you could call it,
holding her small, chubby hand and showing her all the pretty
pictures on the cereal boxes. Alexis loved cereal - to shampoo with!
The tiny girl never managed to get through a meal without getting
stuff all over her fine, blond curls. Call it a talent.
Duo moseyed up to Roseanne, who stood by a large bin of fruit,
peering intently at a peach. There was a small frown of concentration
on her face.
(Was it a good peach or a bad peach? And how could you tell, anyway?
A peach is a peach is a peach...)
She slipped the small fruit into a clear plastic bag for safe
keeping. She turned about expectantly when she felt a tiny, hesitant
tug at her sleeve.
The small child looked up into her face earnestly. In his
outstretched hands he held a tiny package. On closer inspection it
was revealed to be a... night light? It was one of those silly yellow
happy faces. It was kind of cute, in a goofy sort of way. Very
friendly, very cheerful. Duo smiled almost guiltily up at his foster
mother. Alexis clung to one of his legs, slobbering contentedly,
leaving a large wet spot on the blue denim material.
"Roseanne, could I get this night, please?"
He pleaded silently with his beautiful, large violet eyes, offering
his cutest, most appealing smile. He hoped with all his might that
his foster mother would say yes. The dark was becoming unbearable.
Only crybabies used night lights, he had reasoned, but after spending
the last few nights miserably awake and terrified, he had changed his
tune. He just didn't care anymore. His resolve had broken. Let her
think he was some sort of chicken wuss, if she wanted. But he NEEDED
this night light. No joking around!
"Oh, please, pretty please, with sugar on top? Pleeeease!" he begged,
clasping his hands together. He clutched at the night as if it was a
life line. Maybe it was.
Roseanne sighed. "I told you not to read those scary stories, Duo.
See, their giving you nightmares. Aren't they?"
The dark patches under the little one's eyes were proof enough that
the boy had not been sleeping well. And she was not so foolish as to
believe that 'Peter Pan' was the cause of his nightmares. What harm
could there be in letting him have a night light? It might even be
good for him.
Duo did not respond to the comment about nightmares. You better
believe that he had been having nightmares. Terrible, scary dreams
where he ran and ran with some dark unknown terror chasing him down
dim hallways that stretched into eternity. Always just right behind
him, ready to devour him the moment he stopped for air or stumbled
and fell... But none of those dreams had been caused by some stupid
book. Didn't he wish that was all there was to it? It was because of
that stupid closet monster! But he voiced none of this to the woman
standing before him. He just continued gazing up into her face with a
frantic sort of desperation dancing just behind his eyes.
"Well, I guess you could have a night light," She began, "if that
would help you feel any better..."
She didn't have a chance to finish her sentence because an overly
excited Duo started dancing around, whooping and laughing. He picked
up the baby and swung her about delightedly. Duo was so happy, so
relieved about the night light that he flung himself at the woman and
kissed her heartily on the cheek, squishing Alexis between the two of
them.
That sort of took Roseanne by surprise. While Duo had always been
outgoing and friendly, he had never been one prone to physical
demonstrations of affection. On the other hand, it proved to her that
they had been making some sort of progress with him. He was finally
opening up to her, to her husband. He was starting to treat them like
family!
*****
The small child snuggled under a mass of blankets, breathing deep and
even as he slipped deeper and deeper into the mystery that was sleep.
For now, the boy felt safe as a bug in a rug for the first time in
many nights. He had calmly gotten ready for bed. There had been no
mad dash for the safety of his covers once the light had been
switched off. There had been no need. He had a night light. And
every kid knew that no monster was able to stand light. He was safe
from terror. It was a wonderful feeling to be sure.
Unfortunately, things had gone unchecked for too long. Even as Duo
slept, lulled by the false security of the light, his subconscious
mind knew the truth. And trembled. Things had progressed way beyond
the point of no return. The creatures in the closet now merely
laughed at the pitiful smiley faced night light. Where as just a few
nights ago they would have been vanquished in defeat in it's charmed
power. What harm could it do them now? They had gained too much
power. Soon their ultimate goal would be achieved. Soon they would be
able to freely enter the world of man. Not just by night. But in the
golden light of day!
(Soon...!)
The sinister chuckle, thick as a clogged drain pipe, oozed out from
the dark closet and inside that dark recess something undeniable HUGE
shifted position with a sickly squelching sound. Dark anticipation
filled the air with the acrid stench of fear. Even an adult entering
the small bedroom now would have no trouble picking up the air of
malevolence. They might pretend it didn't exist, but they WOULD feel
it.
(Not long now...!)
*****
Gasping in huge sobs, the boy fled, his steps muffled against the
thick carpeting, his long chestnut braid streaming out behind him.
Lavender eyes bulged in fear. His heart hammered in his heaving chest
and it hurt. It hurt! It felt like it would explode. From running? Or
from terror? It was a close bet, but terror was in the lead. Make
that way, way in the lead! The corridor was lined with doors, each
one identical to it's neighbor. Each door locked tight. The small boy
knew this for he had tried them all in his desperate flight from the
terrible beast that pursued him.
Terribly eager squelching sounds could be heard behind the fleeing
child. He could hear it behind him, coming faster and faster. AND IT
WAS CATCHING UP!
(Oh, please, God, please, God! Please don't let it catch me, God!)
Duo wanted, needed to scream, to shriek his terror and hopelessness.
But his terror was too big. His scream was lodged in his throat,
choking him, fighting to be released. Desperately, the boy pushed
himself harder than ever, arms and legs pumping furiously. If he
could just reach the end of the hallway and the freedom he knew
awaited him there. He would survive!
Suddenly, as if his will made it so, Duo slammed into the end of the
hallway. The impact sent him reeling back. He almost lost his footing
and fell into a tangle of arms and legs. Almost. He managed to catch
himself in time. Somehow, he knew that if he fell, he would never get
up again. He didn't know how he knew, and he didn't argue. It was a
fact.
Tiny hands gripped the brass door handle and turned it, pulling.
Nothing happened.
(Okay, just relax, try it again.)
He turned the doorknob again.
Still nothing.
The boy began to whimper in frustration. (Oh, please, oh please, oh
PLEASE! OPEN!)
Frantically, he pulled and tugged and begged, but the door did not
move, did not open. Sweat trickled down the boy's waxy forehead and
into his eyes. It stung, a lot, but he dared not take the time to
wipe it away. The monster was thundering down upon him. Getting
closer, and closer...
A helpless moan escaped the child's throat, high pitched and frantic.
Tears streamed down his face and in the extremity of his fear, he was
unaware he was crying, his pitiful whimpering. He twisted and twisted
at the handle. His heart was in his throat and he knew that if
something doesn't give soon, he would die.
(Please God, Please God, Please God, Please open the door!)
Just as Duo felt the creature rear up behind him, felt it's hot
reeking breath on the back of his neck, felt it's
misshapen shadow falling over his small pathetic form, Duo realized
with a huge jolt that the door was locked. That's why it wasn't
opening up.
His hands flew to the locking mechanism and turned it in a desperate
movement, praying that it wasn't too late, please don't let it be too
late!
The doorknob turned... and opened!
With a gasping sob of surprise, he plunged forward and... he found
himself in another corridor, exactly like the one he had just left.
With a cry of relief, he slammed the door shut behind him. The wooden
frame thudded loudly as something - something very large by the
sound - slammed into it bare seconds later.
The thin boy fell against the door, sliding bonelessly towards the
ground. Relief, sweet relief flooded into his veins making him
quiver, causing him to shake. His legs, his arms, heck, his whole
body trembled violently, uncontrollably. His legs felt like Jell-O.
(Watch it wiggle! See it jiggle!)
The jingle from the long ago familiar commercial danced merrily
through his head, repeating that one verse over and over again, like
a broken record.
(I'm going crazy now. They'll lock me away and throw away the key.)
(Fine,) he thought back in response, (I need a vacation, anyway. Just
as long as there is no closet, and I get to keep my nightlight)
Duo struggled to gain control of his runaway heart, his gasping sobs
sounding very loud in the crystalline silence of the corridor.
After a long, long time, Duo gained some control over his body.
Burying his head in his hands, he began to laugh and cry at the same
time, scrawny shoulders heaving from the sheer force of the tears.
The laughter had a hysterical edge to it, but that was perfectly
okay. In fact, the youngster would have really begun to doubt his
sanity if he had not reacted in some way or another.
(I'm safe. The monster did not get me!)
After an eternity, the braided boy picked himself up from off the
ground. He swiped at his pajamas to get rid of any dirt that may have
clung to him. With a shuddering sigh, he wiped the tears off of his
cheeks with one yellow sleeve. He prepared to set about finding his
way home.
In a black blur of movement, impossibly long arms dripping with
unmentionable goo shattered through the wooden door and latched
themselves about the slender form of the child. Pinning his arms to
his side, covering his mouth before he had time to even draw breath!
His eyes bulged in sheer terror as he was yanked up, up and off of
his feet and back, back, faster than thought, than sound, than light!
Crashing through the supposedly solid door and into the never ending
darkness. Where bright white fangs waited, dripping with saliva and
blood, reaching out to engulf him...devour him...
(OH, HELP ME, MOMMY, MOMMY! MOMMEEEEEEEEEEEEMOMMIES....!)
TO BE CONTINUED...
CHAPTER FOUR
other story I write.
Pairings: None
Category: Horror/AU (Alternate Universe)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Moments of scariness
Poor Duo! If he had only confided his fears of the dark and
mysterious things that slither and go bump in the night to his foster
parents. Then he could have avoided all this fluff and nonsense all
together. It would have all been over in no time at all.
To put it simply, no monster, no matter how fearsome, no matter how
slimy, stood a snowball's chance in a very warm place against the
strong, unwavering certainty of an adult. That calm assurance in all
matters of night time terrors. To a grown-up, monsters, at least the
kind that lurked in the usual childhood haunts, such as in closets,
under beds, in the dark recesses under the stairs simply DID NOT
exist. There was simply no room for doubt in their minds.
I'm not saying that grown-ups are never afraid. Who am I to try to
lie to you? Grown-ups, especially parents, actually spend a great
deal of time being scared. Or should I say being very "worried'.
(That's the adult equivalent of shaking in their combat boots
terrified.)
I'm sure you have all heard this line -or one very similar- at one
time or another while growing up: " Where have you been? Didn't you
know how worried I was! I almost sent the cops looking for you!"
See? Constantly worried equals scared. Try getting your mom and dads
to admit it though. Now, THAT is hard.
Adults "worry" about cavities, about your grades, your eye sight.
They constantly fret over drugs, smoking, the rising crime rate, and
teenage pregnancy. College tuition and learner permits. Oh my! Adults
fear all kinds of things, but closet monsters? Vampires? Cooties?!
They just don't come even close to the top of the list. No sirree!
But the poor dear boy had a difficult childhood. Duo had grown to
care for his foster family over the past four months, yes, he maybe
even loved them a little. Hell, let's be honest. He DID love them. A
LOT! Even little Alexis who spit up on his shoulder every! single!
time! he picked her up. But, hey, that was just what babies did. Eat,
sleep, and puck up on your freshly washed shirts. Yuck! Gross out!
But... it was an accepted fact of life. Live with it, or don't have
children. It was just that simple.
But the real issue was not if he loved them, for he did. With all his
heart. The real issue was trust. Did he trust his foster parents?
Really trust them? Well... let's think about that for a moment.
Giving someone your trust is a very big deal. It takes a lot of guts
to trust someone, because just like love, trust can be betrayed.
Shattered. Sometimes it didn't take much to sever that delicate bond,
either. Nope, delicate as a snow flake, is our friend, Trust.
Duo trusted his foster parents not to hurt him, not to scream and
yell in drunken, slurred voices. He trusted them to feed, clothe, and
keep a roof over his head and to take care of him. He trusted them to
make a fuss when he skinned his knees and elbows, to cuddle him and
to kiss the booboo and make it feel all better. So, yes, in a way he
did trust. Trusted in the way only a child could.
BUT... in this oh so important matter concerning the creepy crawlies
that inhabited his closet, the slimy creatures that lived under his
bed, and the invisible specters that haunted the laundry room? Sorry
to have to break it to you, folks, but the young Duo Maxwell did not
trust anyone with those important secrets. Not Roseanne, not Jeff,
not even the nice counselor man who had sent him to his new family.
The one with the huge elephant-like ears and the gaudy turquoise
watch.
What if the child told any of these people about his fears and...
they didn't believe him? Worse yet, what if they made fun of him?
Laughed themselves into hysterics? Called him a baby, chicken, scardy
cat...?
What if they considered him to be a coward, a sissy, or worse! Some
sort of weirdo crazy freak who needed to be locked away in a padded
room forever and ever? What if they stopped loving him, caring for
him? That simply would not do. There was too much riding on the line.
So, in the end, Duo told no one about the terrible ordeal he was
going through. There was simply too much at stake. Too much to lose.
Sooo, he suffered in silence and lost a LOT of sleep.
*****
A few days after the laundry room incident, (a beautiful sunny, if
frigidly cold Saturday) Duo was out shopping with Roseanne and
Alexis. His foster mother slowly pushed the cart through the crowded
store, meandering from point A to point B calmly. Stopping now and
then to glance at this label or that nutritional guide. She was
trying to watch her 'girlish figure'. This just didn't make any sense
to the small boy. She looked very girlish to him, with full breasts,
and ample hips. Long legs and that sunny smile. Those dancing
friendly eyes, so full of laughter. Just like a mother.
Why she obsessed with her weight was anyone's guess. No one could
call her overweight by any stretch of the imagination. If anything,
she needed to put on a few pounds.
(Must be a girl thing.) Duo mused silently, then winced as Alexis
grabbed double fist fulls of his hair and yanked hard.
"Oooouuuuch!"
Duo had been doing his part of keeping the baby out of Roseanne's way
by giving the queen of drool piggyback rides up and down the aisles.
This fascinated the toddler to no end. Especially when the violet
eyed boy had been prancing about and making sounds like a pony. All
that came to a screeching halt when the bundle of joy started using
his hair as reins.
Now, he let her walk about, if walking was what you could call it,
holding her small, chubby hand and showing her all the pretty
pictures on the cereal boxes. Alexis loved cereal - to shampoo with!
The tiny girl never managed to get through a meal without getting
stuff all over her fine, blond curls. Call it a talent.
Duo moseyed up to Roseanne, who stood by a large bin of fruit,
peering intently at a peach. There was a small frown of concentration
on her face.
(Was it a good peach or a bad peach? And how could you tell, anyway?
A peach is a peach is a peach...)
She slipped the small fruit into a clear plastic bag for safe
keeping. She turned about expectantly when she felt a tiny, hesitant
tug at her sleeve.
The small child looked up into her face earnestly. In his
outstretched hands he held a tiny package. On closer inspection it
was revealed to be a... night light? It was one of those silly yellow
happy faces. It was kind of cute, in a goofy sort of way. Very
friendly, very cheerful. Duo smiled almost guiltily up at his foster
mother. Alexis clung to one of his legs, slobbering contentedly,
leaving a large wet spot on the blue denim material.
"Roseanne, could I get this night, please?"
He pleaded silently with his beautiful, large violet eyes, offering
his cutest, most appealing smile. He hoped with all his might that
his foster mother would say yes. The dark was becoming unbearable.
Only crybabies used night lights, he had reasoned, but after spending
the last few nights miserably awake and terrified, he had changed his
tune. He just didn't care anymore. His resolve had broken. Let her
think he was some sort of chicken wuss, if she wanted. But he NEEDED
this night light. No joking around!
"Oh, please, pretty please, with sugar on top? Pleeeease!" he begged,
clasping his hands together. He clutched at the night as if it was a
life line. Maybe it was.
Roseanne sighed. "I told you not to read those scary stories, Duo.
See, their giving you nightmares. Aren't they?"
The dark patches under the little one's eyes were proof enough that
the boy had not been sleeping well. And she was not so foolish as to
believe that 'Peter Pan' was the cause of his nightmares. What harm
could there be in letting him have a night light? It might even be
good for him.
Duo did not respond to the comment about nightmares. You better
believe that he had been having nightmares. Terrible, scary dreams
where he ran and ran with some dark unknown terror chasing him down
dim hallways that stretched into eternity. Always just right behind
him, ready to devour him the moment he stopped for air or stumbled
and fell... But none of those dreams had been caused by some stupid
book. Didn't he wish that was all there was to it? It was because of
that stupid closet monster! But he voiced none of this to the woman
standing before him. He just continued gazing up into her face with a
frantic sort of desperation dancing just behind his eyes.
"Well, I guess you could have a night light," She began, "if that
would help you feel any better..."
She didn't have a chance to finish her sentence because an overly
excited Duo started dancing around, whooping and laughing. He picked
up the baby and swung her about delightedly. Duo was so happy, so
relieved about the night light that he flung himself at the woman and
kissed her heartily on the cheek, squishing Alexis between the two of
them.
That sort of took Roseanne by surprise. While Duo had always been
outgoing and friendly, he had never been one prone to physical
demonstrations of affection. On the other hand, it proved to her that
they had been making some sort of progress with him. He was finally
opening up to her, to her husband. He was starting to treat them like
family!
*****
The small child snuggled under a mass of blankets, breathing deep and
even as he slipped deeper and deeper into the mystery that was sleep.
For now, the boy felt safe as a bug in a rug for the first time in
many nights. He had calmly gotten ready for bed. There had been no
mad dash for the safety of his covers once the light had been
switched off. There had been no need. He had a night light. And
every kid knew that no monster was able to stand light. He was safe
from terror. It was a wonderful feeling to be sure.
Unfortunately, things had gone unchecked for too long. Even as Duo
slept, lulled by the false security of the light, his subconscious
mind knew the truth. And trembled. Things had progressed way beyond
the point of no return. The creatures in the closet now merely
laughed at the pitiful smiley faced night light. Where as just a few
nights ago they would have been vanquished in defeat in it's charmed
power. What harm could it do them now? They had gained too much
power. Soon their ultimate goal would be achieved. Soon they would be
able to freely enter the world of man. Not just by night. But in the
golden light of day!
(Soon...!)
The sinister chuckle, thick as a clogged drain pipe, oozed out from
the dark closet and inside that dark recess something undeniable HUGE
shifted position with a sickly squelching sound. Dark anticipation
filled the air with the acrid stench of fear. Even an adult entering
the small bedroom now would have no trouble picking up the air of
malevolence. They might pretend it didn't exist, but they WOULD feel
it.
(Not long now...!)
*****
Gasping in huge sobs, the boy fled, his steps muffled against the
thick carpeting, his long chestnut braid streaming out behind him.
Lavender eyes bulged in fear. His heart hammered in his heaving chest
and it hurt. It hurt! It felt like it would explode. From running? Or
from terror? It was a close bet, but terror was in the lead. Make
that way, way in the lead! The corridor was lined with doors, each
one identical to it's neighbor. Each door locked tight. The small boy
knew this for he had tried them all in his desperate flight from the
terrible beast that pursued him.
Terribly eager squelching sounds could be heard behind the fleeing
child. He could hear it behind him, coming faster and faster. AND IT
WAS CATCHING UP!
(Oh, please, God, please, God! Please don't let it catch me, God!)
Duo wanted, needed to scream, to shriek his terror and hopelessness.
But his terror was too big. His scream was lodged in his throat,
choking him, fighting to be released. Desperately, the boy pushed
himself harder than ever, arms and legs pumping furiously. If he
could just reach the end of the hallway and the freedom he knew
awaited him there. He would survive!
Suddenly, as if his will made it so, Duo slammed into the end of the
hallway. The impact sent him reeling back. He almost lost his footing
and fell into a tangle of arms and legs. Almost. He managed to catch
himself in time. Somehow, he knew that if he fell, he would never get
up again. He didn't know how he knew, and he didn't argue. It was a
fact.
Tiny hands gripped the brass door handle and turned it, pulling.
Nothing happened.
(Okay, just relax, try it again.)
He turned the doorknob again.
Still nothing.
The boy began to whimper in frustration. (Oh, please, oh please, oh
PLEASE! OPEN!)
Frantically, he pulled and tugged and begged, but the door did not
move, did not open. Sweat trickled down the boy's waxy forehead and
into his eyes. It stung, a lot, but he dared not take the time to
wipe it away. The monster was thundering down upon him. Getting
closer, and closer...
A helpless moan escaped the child's throat, high pitched and frantic.
Tears streamed down his face and in the extremity of his fear, he was
unaware he was crying, his pitiful whimpering. He twisted and twisted
at the handle. His heart was in his throat and he knew that if
something doesn't give soon, he would die.
(Please God, Please God, Please God, Please open the door!)
Just as Duo felt the creature rear up behind him, felt it's hot
reeking breath on the back of his neck, felt it's
misshapen shadow falling over his small pathetic form, Duo realized
with a huge jolt that the door was locked. That's why it wasn't
opening up.
His hands flew to the locking mechanism and turned it in a desperate
movement, praying that it wasn't too late, please don't let it be too
late!
The doorknob turned... and opened!
With a gasping sob of surprise, he plunged forward and... he found
himself in another corridor, exactly like the one he had just left.
With a cry of relief, he slammed the door shut behind him. The wooden
frame thudded loudly as something - something very large by the
sound - slammed into it bare seconds later.
The thin boy fell against the door, sliding bonelessly towards the
ground. Relief, sweet relief flooded into his veins making him
quiver, causing him to shake. His legs, his arms, heck, his whole
body trembled violently, uncontrollably. His legs felt like Jell-O.
(Watch it wiggle! See it jiggle!)
The jingle from the long ago familiar commercial danced merrily
through his head, repeating that one verse over and over again, like
a broken record.
(I'm going crazy now. They'll lock me away and throw away the key.)
(Fine,) he thought back in response, (I need a vacation, anyway. Just
as long as there is no closet, and I get to keep my nightlight)
Duo struggled to gain control of his runaway heart, his gasping sobs
sounding very loud in the crystalline silence of the corridor.
After a long, long time, Duo gained some control over his body.
Burying his head in his hands, he began to laugh and cry at the same
time, scrawny shoulders heaving from the sheer force of the tears.
The laughter had a hysterical edge to it, but that was perfectly
okay. In fact, the youngster would have really begun to doubt his
sanity if he had not reacted in some way or another.
(I'm safe. The monster did not get me!)
After an eternity, the braided boy picked himself up from off the
ground. He swiped at his pajamas to get rid of any dirt that may have
clung to him. With a shuddering sigh, he wiped the tears off of his
cheeks with one yellow sleeve. He prepared to set about finding his
way home.
In a black blur of movement, impossibly long arms dripping with
unmentionable goo shattered through the wooden door and latched
themselves about the slender form of the child. Pinning his arms to
his side, covering his mouth before he had time to even draw breath!
His eyes bulged in sheer terror as he was yanked up, up and off of
his feet and back, back, faster than thought, than sound, than light!
Crashing through the supposedly solid door and into the never ending
darkness. Where bright white fangs waited, dripping with saliva and
blood, reaching out to engulf him...devour him...
(OH, HELP ME, MOMMY, MOMMY! MOMMEEEEEEEEEEEEMOMMIES....!)
TO BE CONTINUED...
CHAPTER FOUR
