by Ezekiel Kincaid
The voices. I heard them upon awakening; faint, echoing, haunting. Their sound soon drowned out by the pounding in my head that ticked on and on like a second hand on a grandfather clock. My aching face pulsated, and I licked my throbbing lips. As I did, a copper taste formed on the tip of my tongue. I tried to open my eyes, but only the right one cooperated. It took a minute, but I stopped seeing double. Full consciousness dawned on me like a summer sunrise. That’s when all the events of tonight flew through my mind like a swarm of locusts.
I remembered being at the end of the road with Alex. “Come on Rachel, it’ll be a good time." He wanted to investigate the supposed tales of satanic murders and rituals that happened there. Then, he wanted to try and get his rocks off in me. Don’t get me wrong, I meant to put out…I just didn’t get the chance. Alex thought it’d be cute to come to the end of this road; Frenchtown road. There’s legends of ghosts, witches, and Satanism associated with the woods and railroad trestle out here.
Alex wanted to check it out, so he dragged me out here with him. I agreed, because I’m such a good sport. He saw satanic symbols carved into the trestle. Hanging underneath dangled the bones of several dead cats. They swung in the breeze like windchimes. Alex thought it was the bee’s knees and became giddy as shit. He got his urban legend fix, now he wanted his sexual one. He came back to the car horny as hell.
I remember we started making out hot and heavy. It didn’t last long though. Interruption came in the form of an ax head smashing though the front windshield. I remembered seeing Alex getting pulled from the car like a piece of meat; then getting chopped up like one. It reminded me of the time I saw my grandfather butcher a hog. They lived on a farm out in Prairieville. My parents thought it would be good for me to spend my summers there helping. Three years ago, when I was fourteen, I saw my grandfather butcher that hog. Grabbed it by the hind legs and just drug it out the stall. The poor damn thing squealed its ass off. That’s what Alex looked like. That pig, screaming for its life while being hauled off to slaughter. I remembered seeing the ax come down, then hearing the crunch of Alex’s bones. I remembered the Man in Black.
The thoughts kept coming. I remembered trying to escape…and the house! The fucking old lady and her herd of asshole cats!
My mind shut the thoughts off, and I went back to trying to figure out where the hell I was. The air tinged cold, and I laid on something hard, yet smooth. It felt like some type of marble or granite. The frigidness of it tingled my ass and shoulder blades. That’s when I realized I had been stripped naked.
My arms laid stretched out above my head. I tried to move them, but they wouldn’t obey. I felt rope digging into my wrist as I struggled to get free.
“Shit!" I yelled.
Next, I tried to pull my knees up, but like my arms, they wouldn’t give. I could feel rope digging into my ankles. So, I breathed in, arched my back, and screamed.
I hadn’t even finished when I heard a loud pop, followed by a tingling sensation in my ear. I turned my head, and there stood the old lady.
She slapped me. The old bitch slapped me.