Floor Four

5

  A DARK ALLEY

  The murder of Susan Davis, two weeks prior, was still unsolved. The trail left behind by the murderer had all the calling cards of The Mangler. The chain, the sickle and the style of murder. The police could not deny the almost perfect similarities, but they knew that Coleman had been dead for years and assumed that, like the murders at the hospital a little over a year earlier, this was the work of a copycat-killer. While they considered everyone a suspect, their general suspicion was that the same killer from the hospital abducted Brandon. With the time that had passed, privately, the authorities believed that Brandon had possibly been murdered, and either buried or disposed of.

  But for Brandon's parents, his sudden disappearance, left them grieving and worried with uncertainty. And like it or not, their son, even at his age, was once again involved in the authorities search for the murderer. They knew that their son did not murder their neighbor. Their only focus was to find him and get him home safe. They made every attempt through media, newspapers, and word-of-mouth to get the word out about their missing son. They pleaded on the news for the killer to return their young son. But in the time since he disappeared, there were no clues or tips in solving the mystery.

  The town was once again on edge with the possibility that another serial killer was roaming their streets. Halloween was only a couple of days away and it was almost a certainty that most parents would keep their little ones at home. Law enforcement discouraged trick-or-treating. Even teenagers seemed reluctant to embrace the dark holiday, with very few parties planned. The town was afraid and most people took care of their errands by the light of day. It just felt safer that way.

  Police patrols were more visible than normal Halloween night. And despite the overall sense of fear, surprisingly, there were quite a few trick-or-treaters out—mostly older kids and teenagers. A party was even planned at the community building, but was moved to the house of a high school senior for safety. A patrol car cruised the neighborhood as a precaution.

  Doug had talked Kyle into sneaking out with him to crash the senior party, but at the last second, Kyle changed his mind. His parents had a tight leash on him since Brandon disappeared. Doug called him a wimp and turned his attention to his new friend. Cliff was with him when they pulled the prank on Brandon, putting the sickle in the door. Doug influenced Cliff easily, partly because he was just like him—unafraid and mean-spirited.

  They both sneaked out of their houses and made their way to the party. Luckily for them, the party was only two blocks away.

  Even with Cliff being so much like Doug, he was still a little worried about all the rumors of a killer. He was trying to make a friend in Doug, so he never let on about his fear.

  “How far away is the party?” he asked Doug.

  “It's just up the road and around the corner. Not too far. Why? Are you scared?” he asked laughing.

  “No. I just don't want my parents to catch me.”

  “Don't worry, we won't stay long if it's a lame party, or if they act like assholes,” Doug told him. “Hear it?”

  “Hear what?”

  “The music.”

  In the not-to-far distance, the sound of rock music could be heard.

  “Sounds like it's already going good.” Doug smiled and slapped Cliff on the shoulder.

  The party was just up the end of the block and around the corner. Doug stopped.

  “Let's cut through here. We can get there quicker this way,” suggested Doug.

  Cliff looked down the dark alley. The only light was an old street light hanging about halfway down the path. Overgrown bushes and tree limbs from the backyards of houses reached over the fences, giving the alley a creepy look. It was a shorter route, but Cliff did not like the idea of going that way.

  Doug started up the alley and stopped and turned around, when Cliff didn't follow.

  “Don't tell me you're gonna wimp out too?”

  Scared, but not wanting to show it, Cliff slowly walked towards Doug.

  “It won't take long. I can hold your hand if you want?” he told Cliff, offering his hand, laughing.

  Cliff slapped his hand away and smiled, feeling braver now.

  They walked up the alley midway, nearing the light. The light made them feel safer, and the sound of a dog barking, which normally would have been irritating, gave Cliff a sense of security. They emerged from the shadows into the lighted area below the old street lamp. The light covered only a small portion of the alley, and after a brief pause, they continued on.

  From the darkness on the other end of the alley, they heard leaves crunching—someone was walking towards them. They stopped, not saying a word, and noticed that the dog had stopped barking. Everything was eerily quiet, except for the footsteps coming their way. They waited, but no one emerged. They looked at each other, no longer able to hide the fear on their faces.

  Doug turned and spoke. “Who's there?”, his voice cracking a bit.

  No answer.

  “It's some kind of Halloween joke,” he told Cliff.

  The sounds of chains rattling from the dark put the fear back in them. As hard as they tried to see into the darkness, they could not see who or what was there. A piece of chain flew from the blackness and crashed loudly on the dirt road.

  Cliff didn't wait to see who was responsible, and turned and ran back the way they had come from. Doug turned quickly to watch him run to the dark on the other side of the light, then turned to look at the chain lying in the alley. He wanted to be brave and call out the pranksters, but he was scared and had a feeling that this was not a joke.

  From behind him, down the alley, Cliff screamed. Doug was almost in tears, doing his best to not show his fear to the unknown thing in the dark. He turned and saw Cliff. He appeared to be floating towards him. His body stopped just outside the darkness, suspended and wrapped in chains. The chains were wrapped around his chest and neck, and covered his mouth. Something dark was holding Cliff, his eyes wide with fear.

  Doug had no idea what to do. There was nowhere to run or hide. He looked at Cliff hanging helpless. Now the sound of the chains rattling behind him made him turn once again.

  There stood Brandon, hanging the chain over his shoulders. A sudden feeling of comfort came over Doug, seeing his schoolmate, but he did not approach him. There was something about Brandon that told him to stay back. He looked different, not the usual happy, gullible kid he used to pick on. No . . . Brandon's eyes looked angry and menacing, even in the dimly lit alley.

  “Brandon? Is that you? What's going on?” Doug asked. He took the smallest of steps in Brandon's direction. He could still hear Cliff struggling with whatever was holding him.

  “Remember me?” Brandon asked. The voice sounding nothing like his. “I'm back.”

  “What do you mean? You know me, it's Doug.”

  Brandon walked towards him, a sickle in his right hand. “Yes, you remember me well. You saw me at the hospital.”

  Doug was confused. It was Brandon, but it wasn't Brandon talking to him. The voice was deeper and darker. “Brandon, it's me.” Doug looked over his shoulder. Cliff, eyes still wide, was shaking his head, desperately saying no.

  Brandon was now only a few steps away from Doug. He was dressed in black, head looking down. Doug's eyes were focused on Brandon's right hand, and the sickle tightly wrapped in it.

  “Anyone who sees The Mangler must die,” Brandon told him. “You must die.” He raised his head and his eyes met Doug's. Brandon's eyes were black as coal, staring blankly at him.

  Doug stepped back. “I... I... didn't see anything.”

  Brandon smiled and raised the sickle above him. Doug took another step back and bumped into a body and a dangling chain, causing him to gasp. Not wanting to take his eyes off Brandon, he had no choice but to look up. Above him was Cliff's dead, limp body, his head looking straight down at him—eyes still wide, but now in a dead stare. The chain had been pulled so tightly that it crushed his neck, renderin
g it less than half its size. Blood dripped from his mouth.

  Suddenly, Cliff’s body was thrown to the side, The Mangler, eyes full of pure evil and death, stared down at him.

  “Wait. You're dead, you're supposed to be dead,” Doug mumbled. He dropped to his knees and he lost control of his body. Urine began to flow in his pants and down his legs. His body convulsed with fear.

  Brandon looked and admired the way Coleman took control and put the fear in anyone who saw him. His mentoring was paying off now.

  “Kill him!” Coleman shouted. “Kill him. He has seen me, and anyone who sees me must die!”

  Brandon looked at Doug, still shaking, and raised the sickle again.

  Coleman smiled.

  Doug looked up at Brandon. It was no longer him. The black eyes and blank stare displayed no hope for Doug. “Please. Please don't do this,” he cried. Tears filled his eyes, and just then he saw a difference in Brandon's eyes. The black in his eyes flickered and suddenly didn't seem as evil—a glimmer of hope.

  Brandon's hand dropped. His grip on the sickle loosened.

  “Kill the little maggot!” Coleman screamed. He lifted Doug by the collar and thrust him forward, in perfect position for the execution.

  Brandon shook his head, and tears formed in his eyes. Coleman's influence was losing its grip on him. His mentoring, his power over the last two weeks, slowly fading.

  “Do it or you will die too,” Coleman said calmly.

  Brandon looked up past Doug, and into the eyes of his supernatural mentor. His eyes were hypnotizing to Brandon. Coleman's influence grew strong again.

  “Kill the punk,” Coleman commanded.

  Brandon's eyes returned to the black, blank look. Doug shook his head now, slobber ran down his jaw. Coleman set him down for the execution.

  Brandon raised the sickle high in his hand.

  Doug closed his eyes.

  Coleman smiled again.

  Brandon yelled, and charged forward. Just as he brought the sickle down, he pushed Doug to the side. The sickle came forward; its point fixed perfectly into Coleman's chest.

  “NOOOOOO!” Coleman screamed.

  The blade was not stopped by flesh, nor did it impale his body. Now, no longer Coleman, The Mangler's body faded and disappeared as Brandon swung forward. There was a quick burst of light and he was gone.

  Brandon fell forward not expecting to swing the blade into a lifeless, disappearing figure. He tripped over Doug and fell on to the alley's dirt road; the sickle falling from his hand. The chains rattled around him.

  Doug looked up from his crouched position, not believing what just happened. Not believing that he was still alive. He rose and watched Brandon as he pulled the chains off of him and slung them on the ground. He turned to face Doug.

  Doug slowly crawled away from him. He could see that Brandon's eyes were no longer black. They looked normal, but he was still afraid of Brandon.

  Brandon tried to shake out of his confused state. His mind trying to take in everything that had happened over the last two weeks—him being taken by Coleman into some supernatural world. He was trying to remember how he got him to almost kill Doug.

  The one thing he could not forget was The Mangler's rule—'Anyone who sees me, must die.' He didn't understand any of it, and now had helped to kill another kid.

  He looked over at Cliff's body and shook his head in regret.

  Doug stood and looked at the twisted, dead body of his friend wrapped in chains. He was confused, shocked, and scared, almost as much as Brandon. He didn't know what to do.

  Brandon, his head beginning to clear, picked up the sickle and turned towards Doug. He reached down to lift the chains.

  “No. Please don't do it. I won't say anything.” Doug said, wanting to run, but afraid to leave the lighted area and escape into the darkness—a place where The Mangler might be.

  The chains rattled as Brandon put them over his shoulder. His confused emotions running wild, he was enjoying the fear he saw in Doug's eyes. He had always wanted to get him back, scare him, maybe even make him pee his pants, but he didn't want to kill him.

  “I'm really messed up,” he whispered to himself.

  “What?” Doug asked softly, still considering running away.

  “I said, get out of here.” Brandon raised the sickle. “Get out of here!”

  Doug nodded and ran down the dark alley in the other direction.

  The dog began to bark again. Faintly, in the distance, he could hear the music and laughter from the party. He felt that he was safe again, for the moment, safe from The Mangler. But, the dead body of the boy lying in the alley was real. He knelt by his side and passed out.

  Doug ran to the party and got help. He was afraid and didn't want to be alone. He finally convinced the kids at the party to go to the alley. His panicked and frightened look, at first, drew laughter from the teenagers. It was only when Doug began to cry, did they take him seriously.

  When the twenty party-goers, all dressed in different costumes, from some of horror's favorites to Batman, including one in a mock-up of The Mangler, made it down the alley, the only one there was Brandon, still passed out. There was no blood, no sickle, and no chains. And, there was no Cliff. Doug looked around in disbelief, desperately searching for some sign of the murder, and of The Mangler.

  Jason, Frankenstein, and Michael Myers knelt down to help Brandon and called 911. The others looked around the alley from side to side, and down to the other end. They didn't find anything other than garbage and trash. They turned to Doug for answers, but he had none. He was more afraid now. He couldn't say it, but he knew that The Mangler was still out there.