Prologue

An evil thing manipulates a man into murdering half the town.

 

 

 

 

 

PROLOGUE

CLIFF’S BALL

1959

( I )

            “Give me a drink God damn it!” Bobby bellowed and slammed his empty glass down on the bar. His demand had sounded clear enough in his head but what everyone else heard was.

 “Givsh meee a drank goddamnit.”

Everyone in the bar quieted down and turned their attention towards the bar itself. The bartender stood there a moment as if trying to decide what to do. He made his way to the cooler.

 “This is the last one Bobby.” He said as he took off the cap and handed the beer over.

 “You’ll give me as much as I want! My wife left me, and I’m going to drink as much as I want.” Bobby replied.

Shaking his head, the bartender walked away.

            Roy Banner stepped out of his car and slammed the door shut. He looked down at the Sheriff’s badge that was pinned to the front of his uniform and fought the urge to rip it off and throw it into the night. He didn’t know what in the hell was going on in his town all of the sudden, but he didn’t like it. He laughed to himself at the thought of this being his town. This town wasn’t his and it never would be. Roy and his wife Dora had moved here ten years ago, but they were still considered outsiders. They always would be because that was the way it worked in small towns, and Morte was a small town. He popped the button on his holster so he could get to his gun quick if he needed to, although he didn’t think that he would. Roy had dealt with Bobby Peterson before. He was just the town drunk. The town drunk, who had yet again gone and got himself drunk and into trouble. How his wife had hung in for as long as she had before she finally left he didn’t know. He stopped and adjusted his belt and looked off into the distance. He looked out towards King’s field, and even though he couldn’t see it in the dark he knew it was there, The Gate, and he had a feeling that it was what was causing all the trouble in town. Roy didn’t know what it was about it, but the damn thing gave him the creeps, always had. Before he could think on it too long, he pushed the thought away and climbed the bar’s two steps and went inside.

            Bobby was lying spread eagle on his back in the middle of the floor when Roy came inside. Everyone in the bar was either openly staring at him or trying their hardest to pretend like they weren’t.

 “This is the third time this week,” Tom, the bartender said as he came out from behind the bar.

 “Well here is an idea. How about you don’t serve him? How long has he been lying here this time?” Roy asked.

 “About two hours,” Tom replied.

 “Jesus Christ! Do you think you waited long enough to call me? Do something like this again, and I’ll throw your a*s in jail right next to him,” Roy said.

He bent down over Bobby’s body, threw one arm up over his shoulder and made to lift him up, but he was too heavy. Roy looked around the bar and again everyone was just standing there watching.

 “Well isn’t anyone going to give me a hand here?”

 “Sure thing Sheriff,” one man said and rushed over to help him. They both got Bobby into an upright position and practically drug him out of the bar.

 “Help me get him in the car,” Roy said once they were outside.

They maneuvered him into the backseat and Roy strapped him in. Bobby slept through the whole thing.

            The next thing Bobby knew he was being slapped awake. He came out of the sleep slowly and looked around. He was in the backseat of a car and he had no idea how he had got there. He also didn’t care.

 “What the hell are you doing? Lemme sleep,” he said and closed his eyes again.

He had no sooner closed his eyes when another slap rocked his face.

 “God damn it, Lynn!” Bobby said and made to get up, but something was holding him down. Bobby looked down to see the seatbelt fastened across his chest and then looked up to see the Sheriff staring at him.

 “Oh hey Sheriff.”

 “Don’t oh hey Sheriff me. Pay close attention to what I’m about to tell you. Tonight I bought you home, and I’m going to let you sleep it off in your own bed. I’m not going to lock you up on the account of your wife just left you. However, next time I will throw your a*s in jail and you can sleep it off on a tiny, hard cot instead of in your nice comfortable bed, you read me?” Roy asked.

 “Sure, sure,” Bobby replied.

Roy undid his seatbelt and helped him out of the car and up onto his porch. He made sure Bobby was all settled inside before he got back in his car and pulled out. He figured that Bobby would be back asleep in five minutes tops, and tomorrow would be another day.

He was dead wrong.

            Dora was staring at herself in the mirror, trying to make sure that she looked perfect. She had one brunette bang that just did not want to comply. She was messing with it for what felt like the hundredth time when her husband came in and started taking off his uniform. She got up and turned off the small transistor radio that he had bought her for their anniversary last year.

 “Where have you been? We are going to be late,” she said and went back to the mirror to check the curls that reached down to her shoulders one more time.

 “I’m sorry, I had to run Bobby Peterson home again,” he replied.

 “Why don’t you just lock him up?” She asked.

Roy went to the closet and took out the black tuxedo that he kept stowed in the back for special occasions. He couldn’t remember that last time he had worn it. He laid it down on the bed and took the pants off the hanger, continuing to talk while he got dressed.

 “The man’s wife just left him. I wasn’t going to throw him in jail on top of that. Besides, he is harmless,” Roy said.

Dora walked away from the mirror as he finished up and helped him with his bowtie as he straightened out his jacket and gave her a kiss.

 “How do I look?” He asked.

 “Great, now let’s go.”

            The night was getting chilly, but not enough to be uncomfortable as Roy pulled his off duty car, a black Chevy, into the field in front of Cliff’s house. Cliff Robert’s house sat almost at the edge of town in the middle of a huge field with nothing around it except for the driveway that lead up from the main road. He and his wife, Norma, had moved in two years ago. They were the richest people in Morte, but no one knew quite how they had come into their money. Although there were rumors, most of them unsavory in nature. The place was packed. Roy parked in between two other cars and got out. There were more people arriving all the time. He and Dora had to stay close to the parked cars to avoid being hit. Everyone was dressed the same as they were, in tuxedo’s and extravagant dresses. Roy looked completely uncomfortable. Dora, however had a huge smile plastered to her face. She was in her element. She looked over and saw Roy’s face.

 “It’s alright. You are going to have fun. Trust me,” she said.

 “This is nowhere near my idea of fun,” Roy replied.

They walked up the front steps arm in arm, exchanging small pleasantries with the other guests. Meanwhile, across town, other events were being set into motion.

( II )

            Bobby first heard the whispering voices in his sleep.

 “Get up….. drink…..kill.”

He tossed and turned on his bed as if he was caught up in some dark nightmare that he couldn’t shake. The whispering voices kept getting louder and louder until his eyes snapped open. They were dry and bloodshot. Bobby sat up in bed and looked around, he didn’t feel drunk anymore, but he knew he couldn’t have been asleep long.

 “The Sheriff left you here about an hour ago,” his wife’s voice came from behind him. Bobby turned around to see her standing next to the bed. She was smiling at him but there was something different about her. It was her eyes. The pupils were black slits, almost like a cat’s pupils, and the irises were a dark, blood red. Bobby smiled back and started to get up.

 “I’m so glad you came back,” he said.

 “I haven’t come back yet. If you want me to come back, there is something I need you to do. I left you for a reason. Now you have to prove yourself,” she said.

 “What? What do you want me to do?” He asked.

 “Get your shotgun out of the closet and as many shells as you can carry,” She told him.

Bobby got up and did what he was told.

 “Where am I going?” He asked.

 “I think you know. You do know don’t you Bobby?” Lynn asked.

 “The party,” he replied.

 “That’s right.”

The thing that looked like his wife, his Lynn, walked around the bed and put her hand on his wrist.

 “Do you know what I want you to do?” She asked.

She was so close now that Bobby could smell her breath. It was fetid and stale. There was a small part of his mind telling him that this wasn’t his wife, but he didn’t care.

 “You want me to kill them,” he replied.

 “That’s right,” she replied.

He smiled like an overeager schoolboy getting praise from his favorite teacher. He couldn’t wait to do what she wanted him to do.

 “Kill them all,” she said.

            Bobby walked all the way across town in a kind of euphoric daze, clutching his shotgun against his chest with both hands as if it was the most precious thing in the world. He had two shells loaded already; his shirt pocket was filled with more as were all four pockets of his jeans. All he had to do was kill them all and she would come back. He continued on, not worrying about being seen. Normally there would have been at least some kind of activity on Main Street. It wasn’t quite cold enough to start keeping people in yet but tonight there was no one.

 “Good thing the winter festival isn’t this week,” Bobby said to himself and continued on to his appointment with murder.

            Roy was dancing with Dora when he started to get a real bad feeling. There was always a bad feeling that hung over the town. Everyone felt it, but no one talked about it. They all pushed it into the background, but it was always there, just under the surface. The feeling he was getting now though was nowhere near to being under the surface. It was like a tidal wave of bad. His flesh broke out in goose bumps, and the hairs on his arms and neck were standing on end. He felt all of his muscles stiffen. Dora felt it too.

 “Is there something wrong?” She asked.

 “No, everything is fine,” he lied and smiled, but he could feel every muscle in his body continuing to tighten.

            Bobby climbed the steps to the front porch and stopped at the door. Inside, the party was going full swing. He could hear the music and what sounded like hundreds of muffled conversations. He checked his shotgun again and smiled. He was ready to go.

 “What are you waiting for?” He heard Lynn ask.

He looked over to see her standing by the porch landing, eyeing him coldly.

 “You’re not going to back out on me are you? Don’t you want me back?” She asked.

Bobby pulled the slide back on the shotgun. It slid backwards and then forward again with a metallic click. He smiled at her and knocked on the door.

            The butler heard the knock. He didn’t know who it could be. Everyone with a reservation was already there. He stopped with one hand on the doorknob and looked at the upstairs hallway that overlooked the foyer. Cliff and Norma were both standing there with drinks in their hands and smiles on their faces. Cliff nodded at him.

He opened the door.

            The butler saw Bobby’s smiling face and was about to ask him who he was when Bobby raised the shotgun. He froze mid breath, his mouth forming a tiny o. There was a deafening boom as Bobby pulled the trigger. The butler felt extreme pressure on his stomach as he flew backwards.  He hit the floor and looked down at himself. There was a big hole where his stomach used to be and his guts were all over the floor. He had been almost ripped in half. Mechanically, he reached down with both hands and started trying to scoop his guts up and put them back in. He looked towards the door in shock, and the last thing he saw was Bobby step over the threshold and into the foyer.

            Bobby stepped into the foyer and cocked the shotgun again. A woman ran towards him screaming in a blind panic. He raised the gun and fired again. Her face was vaporized instantly. Smiling he took two more shells out of his shirt pocket and reloaded.

            Roy heard the first boom and then the screaming had started. He instinctively reached for his gun, and his stomach dropped when he found nothing there. It was at home in its holster sitting on the nightstand beside the bed. Just then, he heard another boom, and Bobby came into view. Roy watched as he raised his shotgun and blew another man away.

 “Oh s**t,” he said and grabbed Dora.

 “What is going on? What is happening?” She screamed.

Roy didn’t answer. Instead, he shoved her towards the kitchen and the back door that was on the other side of it. Behind him, he heard more booms and screams. He grabbed the doorknob and pulled, but the door, it wouldn’t budge. Roy heard empty shell casings hit the floor and knew that Bobby was getting closer. He doubled his efforts, but the door still wouldn’t budge. He stepped back and looked at the door and the realization that he and his wife were going to die slammed into his gut like a hammer. The door had been nailed shut.

 “How do you do Sheriff?” Bobby’s voice came from behind him.

Roy turned around and put Dora behind him so that she was between him and the door.

 “Come on Bobby, you don’t want to do this,” Roy said.

 “Sure I do. Lynn told me to. She said she would come back to me if I did,” he replied.

 “Oh God,” Roy heard Dora whisper behind him.

 “Think about it Bobby. Is this the kind of thing that Lynn would tell you to do?” Roy asked.

Bobby aimed the shotgun at Roy and pulled the trigger. The blast hit him chest high and tore through. Both his and Dora’s blood covered the back door as they slumped to the floor at the same time.

 “Oh God! Dora,” was Roy’s last thought before darkness took him.

            “Is it almost over?” Norma asked, tears silently streaming down her face.

Cliff nodded his head and took another drink as he heard the last shot go off in the kitchen. He looked over and saw a woman standing at the top of the stairs. He didn’t know whose body the thing was copying but he knew it was him because of the red, cat like eyes.

 “You knew the terms of the deal when you made it,” the thing said.

 “I know, but all of those people,” Norma said.

 “You wanted to be rich, so I made you rich.”

 “A deal is a deal,” Cliff replied.

 “Is it over now?” Norma asked, the house had gone eerily quiet.

 “Just about,” the thing said.

Bobby was standing at the bottom of the steps now. He emptied the one cartridge he had used in the kitchen and replaced it with another. He saw Lynn standing at the top of the stairs with those two other people.

 “You’re almost done,” Lynn said and looked over at Cliff and Norma.

Bobby knew what that meant and started up the steps.

 “What are you doing?” Cliff asked.

 “Like you said. A deal is a deal,” the thing replied.

 “This wasn’t part of the deal,” Cliff replied, panic evident in his voice now.

Bobby reached the top of the stairs and pulled the trigger. The blast took off the left side of Norma’s face. The force of it spun her around, and she fell through the glass end table that was against the wall. He turned the gun on Cliff now.

 “She is coming back to me,” Bobby said.

 “Listen, you can’t believe anything that thing says,” Cliff replied.

Bobby pulled the trigger and Cliff took the shot right to the chest and went sprawling over the bannister. His body landed on top of the countless other bodies that already littered the foyer. Bobby turned to Lynn and smiled.

 “Are we done now?” He asked.

 “One more,” Lynn told him.

Bobby took the two empty cases out of the shotgun and this time he only reloaded one. When he was done he cocked the shotgun, put the barrel in his mouth, and pulled the trigger.

           

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Note

I'm looking for feedback on plot structure, dialogue and characters.

Reviews

[Colette]

That was an interesting plot development. I think you developed well the characters because I could visualize them and the whole scene was believable. The only thing I did not like was that you move from one character to another without a sort of break. You only realize you are starting a different scene when you get to the next character, but I think there should be something that clearly marks the end of a scene. Maybe you could do some page breaks? This way you don't have to add any additional words. But overall, I really liked it. Hope to read chapter 1 soon :D

[Matthew Standiford]

Thank you for taking the time to review. I will definitely look into adding some breaks.

[Colette]

You're welcome! Hope it helped. Also, I forgot to mention that you probably should draw a little bit more attention to the gate. Why does it look creepy to Roy? Unless if it is amply described in the next chapter?

[Matthew Standiford]

I do and I don't. I kind of mention how it kind of creeps out everybody to try to get the reader interested in exactly why and then I have the reveal of what it actually does. I'm taking your advice on working in page breaks between characters and then chapter one should actually be up shortly.

[Colette]

Okay, that makes sense. Well good luck on the writing and will be looking to read the next pages ;)

[R.V.Hemington]

hihi Matthew,

Had a read of your prologue. I quite like the idea - very The Gates (tv) + Supernatural + The Shining. The nit pics I found were mostly how the sentences first sat with me when I read them. The ones I've listed sit fine grammar wise but could be reworded slightly to strengthen them. These suggestions can be taken or disregarded at your discretion.

-"Kept in the back for special occasions" (tuxedos are really on for special occasions. You could omit it and just have "kept in the back" or "kept at the very back."

- "Pulled of his duty car, a black Chevy" (adding extra info in this way make it seem very important. If it is relevant to the plot, cool. If it's just extra, I would just say "pulled his black Chevy out...")

- There were more people arriving all the time (not sure why, this sentence just sits funny with me. Perhaps because it's a party, we'd expect that. Perhaps adding more detail or people he recognizes?)

- Roy looked completely uncomfortable. (A little simplistic compared to your other examples. Something like "He wondered if he looked as uncomfortable as he felt." would fit better, especially since he wife comments right after.)

- The whispering voices kept getting louder and louder until his eyes snapped open. They were dry and bloodshot. (This one is totally personal preference for my reading/writing. I've never been a fan of double comparisons or modifiers. Louder and louder. Maybe omit one louder and add some other description.)

-He didn’t know whose body the thing was copying but he knew (it was him because of) the (or "those") red, cat like eyes. (I find the bracketed info could be taken out.)

Okay, onto the good stuff!

My favorite lines were:
She was so close now that Bobby could smell her breath. It was fetid and stale.
Bobby said to himself and continued on to his appointment with murder.

Your strength seems to be in dialogue. The best and clearest writing came from there.
It's hard to generate enough emotion at the beginning but the turn at the end of the party was a shock and I felt a twinge of sadness when the Sheriff died. So well done for that!

I hope that's helps. All in all, a good read. Thanks!
RVH

[Matthew Standiford]

Thank you for your review. That was exactly the kind of stuff I was looking for. I will definitely revisit those sentences. Some of them didn't sit quite right with me as well but I thought I was being over critical.

[R.V.Hemington]

No problem. Looking forward to more.