Billy was on his final level. He had no more lives left.
“SLASH. SLASH.”
“Zzzzztttt. Zzzzztttt. Zzzzztttt.”
The Boss “Reaper Grimm” was proving H.A.R.D. to kill. The frightening apparition absorbed the barrage of well-aimed laser bolts from Billy’s diligently powered-up ‘Lightning-Laser.’ "Die, Die, DIE!" Billy hissed through clenched teeth.
“ SLASHHHHH.”
A mortal blow! Billy’s life bar slid from green to yellow, to red, to DEAD.
Ugh! So close! Dejected, Billy flung the game controller on the threadbare area rug. An inky cloud of red filled the TV screen. ‘Game Over’ flashed mockingly against a grinning skull & bones logo that, strangely, had a full mouth of pristine teeth. Empty sockets stared into his soul. Billy felt a chill.
“BILLY!” His mother’s raised voice carried from the kitchen.
Ugh! Times two!
“YES, MOMMY?”
“Billy, run down to the basement and grab a can of chicken broth from the pantry. Hurry! I’ve got a stew on the boil for dinner.”
Ugh! Times a million!
Billy hated the unfinished basement in the dilapidated ‘fixer-upper’ house that was located in a bad part of town. His single mother and he were forced to move into it after she lost her job at the local bank. Now, she was ‘between jobs’ but still worked very hard all day. She loved Billy and Billy loved her back...but....Ugh! The pantry! Nope, that he only hated!
He’d have to walk past the smelly boiler room next to the pantry. In Billy’s fertile imagination the huge cast-iron boiler recessed in that dank room was a hot, malevolent Beast, shuddering and snarling in barely-contained fury and crouched in a tight coil – waiting to pounce on Billy.
“BILLY!”
“OKEYYYA!!”
Billy stared longingly at the TV screen one last time in delicious horror. The skull’s toothy grin seemed to stretch wider before his eyes. The flashing ‘Game Over’ beckoned him to start over.
He dragged his bare feet to the warped door leading to the basement. Flakes of paint resembling off-white bats clung to its surface. The solid-rust knob gratingly turned in his small hand. Billy wiped off the orange-brown residue on the front of his thin tank top. Worn, wooden stairs descended into a pool of grimy light from a pathetically-stringed overhead bulb that suffocated in a life-long choke hold of dust. The banister swayed under his white-knuckled grip. The wallpaper on the side wall had long since given up its breath and was survived by a sickly-yellow patina of ancient glue. Billy took a deep breath and immediately regretted it.
“In and out.” Billy psyched himself. “C’mon!”
Crossing his fingers against splinters, Billy tiptoed warily down the steps, which, weirdly, did not creak but only sagged wearily. He paused on the last step and wrestled with the instinct to run right back up.
The distance to the pantry door seemed to stretch a daunting football-field length away. Billy touched down from the last step on to the unfinished, concrete floor. Its naked cold pierced his bare feet and shivered up his spine, raising the hairs on the back of his neck.
He felt completely exposed.
He turned around and looked up the stairs and at the slightly ajar door with safety safely ensconced on the other side.
“BILLY, HURRY UP!” Mom’s voice carried clearly through the thin, wood ceiling.
“Ok, you can do this.” Billy fished into the net pocket of his cargo shorts and pulled out his secret talisman against the forces of evil. It was no Lightning Laser but what it lacked in badass laser bolt zapping action it more than made up in pure magic. Billy was convinced of that. It was squat, fit snugly in this palm, and had the words ‘Magic Marker’ printed in faded lettering on its spine. He waved it in the air and imagined a buzzing laser beam shooting out of its stubby cap. He smiled at his own imagination.
His smile faded as he eyed the obstacles littering the floor. Broken furniture; pitted wood siding planks; yellowing newspapers; empty cans caked with dried paint of indeterminate color; and a forlorn gaggle of broken toys and ragged stuffed animals. Old mold rose in gravity-defying stains on the claustrophobic walls. For a moment Billy forgot all about the Boiler Beast as he grappled with the specter of red-eyed rats scampering from the squeaking squalor with sharp teeth gnashing in anticipation. His stomach turned.
Billy walked through the debris, taking care not to step on the broken stuffed animals that stared at him with glassy eyes that changed color with the passing of his shadow. Billy avoided making eye contact. Through the corner of his eye, he saw that he was parallel to the boiler room entrance. His sharp ears picked up scratchy clicks that sounded like metallic beetles crawling on the inside of the boiler’s belly. Billy willed himself to walk the last few steps into the ‘pantry.’ Once inside that small walk-in closet, he exhaled hard rousing the slumbering dust that rose in annoyed clouds around his head. Billy clamped down on his nose to snuff out an explosive sneeze. A series of slat shelves lined the walls and were stacked with an array of cheap canned foods that his mother purchased in bulk during clearance sales. Most of the food had expired.
“ BILLYYYY!”
Mom’s high-pitched scream tore through the ceiling and made him jump out of his skin. There was a jagged edge to her voice that startled Billy.
“COMING, MOM! JUST A SEC...!!!”
He had better hurry! Billy scanned the shelves and spotted a lone can of chicken broth perched precariously on the top shelf – just out of his reach. Billy looked around for something to stand on and spotted a tub of frying lard guarding the corner. Tugging it with both hands, Billy dragged it over and stepped up on it while praying that it did not collapse under him. He was caked with dust and a coating of lard would be unbearable! The plastic tub flexed but held. Sticking his tongue out in concentration, Billy stretched on his tippy toes. His fingers managed to brush the bottom of the can of chicken broth.
Just then, the Boiler Beast in the next room ERUPTED IN FURY!
Ear-splitting, metallic bangs rang out and bounced off the walls in an alarming decibel dance. It sounded like the furious Boiler Beast was trying to punch its way right through the thick metal wall of the boiler. The tremors caused the cans on the shelves to clatter in an eerie tap dance.
Billy quaked and sobbed in terror, his body frozen on top of the tub of lard!
“ MOMMY!! SAVE ME MOMMY!!!” he screamed.
The bangs got fiercer!
Any moment now Billy expected the Boiler Beast would tear through, its fangs glistening with slimy saliva, its claws extended to tear him to pieces!
“ BILLLYYYY!!!”
His mother's petrified scream pierced the din....
“ BILLY RUN!! RUUNNNNN!!!”
Before Billy could move, it started raining canned food. The sharp-edged cans clattered off the edges of the shelves and pelted Billy like heavy hail. Billy jumped off the tub and rolled himself into a ball on the floor trying to avoid the missiles. His evasive tactic was futile as one of the cans caught the bridge of his nose. Blood spurted down Billy’s mouth and dripped off his chin in a grotesque red beard.
With the Boiler Beast still furiously banging, Billy, bloodied, bolted! Sobbing in terror and desperate to reach his mother, Billy stampeded over the broken stuffed animals. His dripping blood dyed their fluffy, cottony, innards bright red. He did not see their glassy eyes flicker alive at the taste of young blood.
The banging grew louder, shaking the rickety house. Billy bounded up the stairs while looking over his shoulder to make sure he wasn’t being followed. He did not notice the door at the top of the stairs had shut mysteriously. He ran into it with a bone-jarring thud that made the ‘bats’ fall from their perch. Billy bounced backward and managed to grab on to the knob just in time to keep from tumbling into the ‘stairy abyss.’
Suddenly, a silent scythe sliced through the Boiler Beast’s banging. The only sounds were the percussive thumps of Billy’s terrified heart and his soft whimpering for his mommy as he stood shivering facing the shut door at the top of the stairs.
Summoning every ounce of courage, Billy turned the knob. Its grating growl chewed the silence to shreds. Billy almost passed out in relief when the door opened. In a flash, he was through and slammed the door shut behind him. The back of his thin tank top was stained with sweat and the front with blood.
“ MOMMY!!”
Silence.
“ MOMMMYYY!!!”
Silence.
With his back to the door, Billy slowly peeked around the edge of the wall and down the dimly-lit corridor. The lights were on in the kitchen at the end of the corridor but he heard no sound and saw no movement.
Billy felt very, very alone. He knew he had to get to his mother in the kitchen. He dropped to all fours and began crawling. The stringed bulb above him swayed slowly giving his shadow a life of its own. The old house creaked and Billy froze in mid-crawl. After what seemed like an eternity, Billy unfroze and began crawling again until he reached the edge of the kitchen door. Shivering with fear, he peeked around the edge but his floor-level view was blocked by the small island counter in the middle of the kitchen. Then, it hit him; the meaty aroma of a boiling stew. He heard it bubbling on the stove.
“mommy,” Billy whispered.
Only bubbling sounds.
“mommyyy,” Billy hissed.
Only bubbling sounds.
Billy crawled up to the edge of the island counter. Fresh-red blood droplets left a trail on the white-tiled kitchen floor momentarily before disappearing as if wiped away by an invisible mop. Inch by inch, Billy raised his head until his eyes barely rose above the edge of the island counter. His breathing stopped. His eyes bulged. His mouth fell open in a silent scream.
‘Mommy’ was hunched over the bubbling stew with 'her' back to him. Her pink, sleeveless dress was split open at the seams and seemed three sizes too small. Her hair fell in loose, blonde tresses streaked with blood. With one hairy, muscular arm she stirred the pot with a ‘utensil’ that made Billy gasp in revulsion. At the sound, ‘Mommy’ pivoted around in slow motion and grinned at Billy with a full mouth of pristine teeth. Her empty sockets stared right into Billy’s soul. Perched on her bald, bony head was a ragged, bloody scalp.
This creature was not his mother!
Billy blubbered. “Where is my mommy? Please! I want my MOMMY!”
‘Mommy’ did not answer and walked around the island counter and stopped a foot away from the violently-shivering Billy.
Billy fell back on his haunches and something fell out of his shorts pocket and clattered on to the tiles. It was his Magic Marker! Billy grabbed it in crazed desperation and waved the imaginary, laser beam at the apparition looming over him.
‘Mommy’ reached down and plucked the marker from Billy’s sweaty grip. Billy stared in horrific fascination as ‘Mommy’ drew an elaborate, twirly mustache on her own face with the black marker and then flung the marker across the room contemptuously. All Billy could do was keep staring helplessly.
‘Mommy’ looked down and finally 'spoke' in a low rumble that seemed to emerge from a deep, dark, evil place: “Game Over, Kid.”
Billy pleaded: “What? No! Please! I'm just a kid! I’ll be good! I’ll do my homework. I’ll do my chores. No more video games! I promise!
PLEEASEEE!”
‘Mommy’ shook her head once and raised her hand high above her head. Billy let out a heart-rending scream at the sight of the raised machete; its glint dimmed by dripping, red blood that lined its sharp cutting edge.
" STOP!! I'M JUST A KID!!!"
And, then…
“ SLASHHHHH .”
Billy’s life bar slid from green to yellow, to red, to DEAD.
_______________________________________________
She found Billy on the couch the next morning. His small body was splayed with legs apart like a limp rag doll. In the first light of morning, he looked completely at peace.
“Oh, No! Wake up Billy!” Billy’s mother shook him. “Oh, for God’s sake! Wake up already!”
Billy’s eyes flew open. He sat up so suddenly that he butted heads with his mother who was leaning over him.
“Ow! Billy! Watch! Jeez!” said his mother, rubbing her head ruefully.
“Mommy? Mommy, you are OK?” gasped Billy.
“Yes, young man!” said his mother, “but it’s not OK for you to fall asleep on the couch again!” She surveyed the scene; the small TV screen was filled with an inky cloud of red. ‘Game Over’ flashed mockingly against a grinning skull & bones logo. Ignoring the silly sight, Billy’s mother turned around to glare at Billy.
“I thought I told you no video games past 9 pm young man!” she said sternly. Her scolding was interrupted by the loud doorbell. With an exasperated sigh, Billy’s mother walked rapidly towards the front door muttering “What am I going to with this kid!” She returned a couple of minutes later followed by a man who was at least six feet tall and hulked over her petite frame. He was clean-shaven, including his gleaming bald head. He wore stained leather overalls and a rough flannel shirt with a bulging tool bag slung over his shoulder. In one fist that was the size of a small ham, he wielded an enormous wrench. Billy immediately had an uneasy feeling about this man but felt a bit reassured that his mother didn’t seem nervous in his presence.
“Billy, this is Mr. Rawlings from the hardware store in town. He’s here to fix our boiler.”
With that matter-of-fact introduction, she turned to the man and said: “And this is my son Billy.”
“Oh, I know. I’ve seen him” said Mr. Rawlings in a low, rumbling voice.
Billy’s mother shot him a puzzled look. “You’ve seen him?” she asked.
“Oh I mean I've seen you both walkin’ around town. Mr. Rawlings, changing the subject quickly: "So, what seems to be the problem with your boiler?”
“Like we discussed. Our boiler is possessed. It makes these ungodly banging sounds and shakes the house to the rafters,” said Billy’s mother.
“Ah, a kettling boiler. You see…” Before he could say more, Billy’s mother cut him off and said, “Oh, save me the gory details. Just fix it please!” She glared at Billy again: “And you young man, go on brush your teeth and get ready for breakfast!”
Before Billy could protest, his mother turned primly and motioned to Mr. Rawlings to follow her to the basement. Despite his mother's admonition, Billy followed them and his heart missed a beat as he heard his mother turn the rusty, grating knob. He watched with rising trepidation as Mr. Rawlings followed her and pulled the door shut behind him.
Billy wanted to follow them but knew he was already in trouble for staying up late playing video games. Reluctantly, he turned to walk to his room when he heard the door to the basement open behind him. Billy spun around to see Mr. Rawlings leaning through the open door.
“Game Over, Kid,” said Mr. Rawlings in a mocking voice that Billy had heard before.
Billy’s eyes bulged. His breathing stopped. His mouth fell open in a silent scream. And it wasn’t the words Mr. Rawlings had just uttered that made his blood run cold. It was the terrifying sight. Right below Mr. Rawling’s ruddy nose was an elaborate, twirly mustache drawn in black marker ink.
“ MOMMMYYYY,”
Billy screamed as he rushed towards Mr. Rawlings. He was too late. Mr. Rawlings pulled his head back and slammed the door. Billy reached it a second later and grabbed the rusty knob turning it desperately. It would not turn. Billy started banging on the door with open palms as hard as he could.
“ BILLLYYYY!!!”
He heard his mother scream. She sounded petrified! She sounded in pain!
“ BILLY RUN!! “RUUNNNNN!!!”
Just then, the Boiler Beast below his feet ERUPTED IN FURY!
Ear-splitting metallic bangs that shook the old house to its rafters joined Billy’s hysterical screaming in a horrific symphony.
THE END?
(© 2017 - Avinash V. Ganatra. All Rights Reserved.)