by Park, J. R.
Have you ever seen him? In the flesh I mean. Everyone saw the mugshot in the newspapers. Ugly son of a bitch wasn’t he? That scar running down his forehead and over his eye socket. His right eye all cloudy, grey and fucked up. God knows why he didn’t get an eye patch, or get it removed and replaced with a glass one. That’s what I did. You might think he looked scary in those photos, but that’s nothing compared to seeing the man for real. They say there’s a monster inside all of us. With Mooney, that monster was well and truly out.
I guess that’s why you’re talking to me. Want to know what it was like to meet the legend before he was taken to Darkdale? A bit of background for your story.
I hadn’t been at University very long, still in Fresher’s fortnight. Two weeks of drinking may be hard on the liver but I didn’t feel it. I don’t really get hangovers and all that going out had gotten me relaxed to my new surroundings very quickly.
The fortnight was coming to a close and we were all going on another fancy dress pub crawl. You wouldn’t believe the amount of money I spent on costumes. This time round it was characters from kid’s books and TV shows and I went for the classic Little Red Riding Hood, thought it would be fun. Red hooded shawl, shocking red nails, lipstick to match, short skirt, stockings. You know the look. Even bought a basket that I carried round with the mask of a wolf in it. I filled the mask with newspaper to give it bulk. Make it look like I cut the monster’s head off. After a few pubs the basket and mask disappeared. No idea where I left them. But better to lose them than my purse. I’ve done that a few times now.
So the night is going well. Ally and Rach are on it, and I’m matching them drink for drink, shot for shot. The boys came sniffing round as usual, peacocking with all that alpha male bullshit, but we weren’t interested. We were on a mission to reach oblivion and then dance our asses off until the sun came up. Fuck those Rugby boys. They make my skin crawl with their own self-importance. Never impressed me and never will.
Sorry. I’m getting side tracked.
So the basket’s long gone and the drinks are flying down our throats. As I order a round of Jager bombs I’m told the card machine has stopped working. Fine time for that to happen. And although I still have my purse on me, there’s no money in it. Stumbling out of the Huntsman I head to the nearest cashpoint. Surprise, surprise the thing’s empty. Everyone else has already done what I’ve done and beat me to it. So I mash the keypad in frustration and head down the street looking for the next one.
Now, I know I said I was comfortable with my new surroundings, but that didn’t mean I knew them all too well; especially with a bloodstream rapidly filling with alcohol. I really couldn’t tell you how I ended up where I did, clearly I took a wrong turning somewhere, but before I know it I’m in a deserted side street, wandering down an alley with my hand on the wall to keep myself upright. The silence is making my ears ring and the streetlights have all disappeared. Thunder rumbles somewhere off in the distance, just like in some crappy horror movie, and I start looking around, trying to get my bearings. I never knew it could get so dark in a city.
Suddenly my mind sharpens. I realise my situation. I’m lost and I’m alone. Pulling out my phone from my bag I go to call Rach when the sound of something awful echoes down the alley.
If I sounded a little blasé when I started this story, that’s because I’ve told it so many times. After a while it becomes nothing but words. I’ve tried my best to divorce all feeling from them. But let me tell you, right here, right now, whatever that sound was scared the living shit out of me.
I jumped and my heart beat so hard I thought I was going to keel over. I watched the light of my phone as it fell to the floor and skated across the ground. It stopped abruptly as it careered into something big and solid. The bluish glow was faint but effective enough, and slowly my eyes made sense of the shapes it was illuminating.
At first I saw the outline of a face. The contours of a cheek and nose nearly touching the ground. It was small, child-like. A little girl, crawling in the dark. Long hair splayed out from two pigtails on her head. Her blonde bunches were filthy; muddied from soaking up what I thought was dirty puddle water. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
She hadn’t seen me. Probably blinded by the light of my phone.
I watched as she stretched out her hands, gripped the ground and pulled herself along, dragging her belly over the concrete. She was shivering and I went to call out; to ask if she was alright, but that noise came again and took my voice. A dog-like growl.
Like a frightened deer, my instincts told me to freeze.
A patter of footsteps, like bare feet running across concrete, caught my ears.
The girl rolled onto her back. The light of my phone fully illuminated her face, and I can see these awful slashes across her cheeks, drenching her in blood. Flaps of torn skin dangle from her face. It was just horrible. Her eyes were like saucers, wide with terror, as she stared back into the black.
Another growl echoed round the alley, only this time much louder.
Much closer.
The girl went to scream, but she fainted before she could make a sound, her head hitting the concrete with a sickening thud. A dark puddle of what must have been blood oozed from her cracked skull and I watched, stunned, as her body gently rocked from the influence of something else. Someone hidden in the dark.
Holding my breath, I tried to focus on the darkness. I tried to peer through the night and eventually my perseverance paid off. Slowly I made out a large figure, squatted and hunched over the poor, unconscious girl. At first I thought he was wearing a fur coat, but as I saw his huge muscles flex underneath, I realised it wasn’t a coat at all. He was completely naked.
This was how I met Mitch Mad Dog Mooney.
I didn’t know it was him of course, back then he wasn’t the notorious figure he is now.
His hands were huge, ending in points, like claws that gripped hold of the poor girl. His ears seemed to rise above his hair, and his eyes; his eyes glowed in the dark, reflecting the light from my phone like a cat caught in headlights.
But it’s when I traced the sounds of grunts and tearing, when I saw his mouth, that I felt my legs nearly collapse from under me. Maybe it was a mixture of the shadows and alcohol, but his jaw looked like it was pulled out of shape, into a weird, elongated snout. I know, crazy right? But the first thing I thought of when I saw him was the mask I’d stuffed with newspaper and lost with my basket.
He opened his mouth and exposed a set of over-sized teeth. I winced as I watched him sink them into the flesh of that little girl. Her ribs snapped as he bit down, and as he tore apart her chest, I watched those broken ribs drop to the floor. I wanted to run, my brain screamed at me to get out of there, but like a bad bout of sleep paralysis, my body refused to listen. He took another bite, this time into the soft flesh of her stomach. My own belly stirred in disgust, but I couldn’t take my eyes off the trails of gristle and skin that hung from his chin, dripping in blood.
It was only when he stopped chewing those monstrous jaws and his eyes looked up into mine did the spell slowly begin to subside. Those eyes glowed with a bright intensity, and even then I noticed the difference in his right eye. It was a subtle shade darker.
My foot edged back slowly away from him, but I kept him squarely in my vision. He rose from his crouching position and I watched him tower above me.
And then the little girl turned her head.
She looked at me, her face all twisted and weak like my Grandmother’s before she died. Tears glistened in her eyes and her own blood poured from her mouth as she wrestled with her words. It was low and very faint, like a whisper. But I heard it clear enough. A warning from someone that had already accepted their death.
‘Go away!’
I wasn’t about to argue. I had no choice. My cover had been blown. I was no longer the scared deer, I was the hunted rabbit. I turned and ran, but he was on me too quickly. I felt him catch hold of my cape and pull me backwards. S
tupid costume! I landed on my ass but rolled away, instinct and adrenaline propelling me forward. Climbing back to my feet I tried to sprint off, but was swiped in the side by one of those awful claws. A pain shot up my body as I fell forward, crashing into a wheelie bin. It knocked the wind from me as I slumped to my knees, dazed and clutching at my side.
I didn’t look up to see him stood over me; I could sense it.
I could feel the warmth of his hunger, the evil in those eyes.
The sound of his panting grew louder as he bent down to look at me. The fucker knew he had me trapped. His breath was warm against my skin, but I refused to look. I couldn’t accept this nightmare. I wouldn’t allow it in.
I swear I could almost feel his teeth on my skin.
And then I lashed out. With my clutch bag still in my hand I swung at his head, hoping maybe I’ll get a shot at that dodgy eye. Not a hope in hell! It was like lighting the touch paper. All of a sudden he launched at me. I looked up to see those glowing eyes, the snapping of those terrible teeth; the ripping claws that reached out for me.
I turned and clung to the wall, trying to pull myself up and get away, but he knocked me to the floor and was on top of me with a strength I couldn’t fight.
Everything went red as he snapped and clawed. I held my hands up, pushing at his face to fend him off, but he just kept coming. Blood poured down my fingers, making them indistinguishable from the nail-varnished tips I’d so lovingly painted hours earlier. Had he biten them off? I couldn’t tell. Obvious now, huh?
The pain going through my body was so immense, so overwhelming, that I just stopped feeling it. Every strike to my face, every bite towards my head left a washed out stinging sensation, muted with shock.
I’m not sure if I remember the next bit, or my brain filled in the blanks with its own story, as when I recall it, it’s like I’m watching it from afar. Like I’m watching it on a movie.
My arms won’t move, I’m exhausted and blood is pouring down me. He grabs my throat and picks me up; lifts me so we’re at eye-level, my feet dangling uselessly in mid-air. I’m done fighting and I watch as he pulls his other arm back like he’s ready to swing at me; tear my face off with that huge claw. His lips curl up like an angry dog, exposing his teeth that are now dripping in my blood.
This is it then, Little Red Riding Hood, I remember thinking to myself as I finally give in.
I close my eyes tight. The stinging and injuries make my face feel strange.
Like a mask.
The next thing I know I hear a voice.
‘Over there!’ a man called out. ‘Put the girl down.’
All of a sudden there’s a strange sound and I’m gritting my teeth as my whole body tightens and a new type of pain courses through me. I feel Mooney let go and I fall to the floor; the pain dissipating as quickly as it came.
I roll over and understand what’s happened. I watch as more tasers are fired at him. The electrodes dig into his body. He struggles with them for a moment, trying to pull them from his skin as he staggers towards the police, but eventually he drops. I’m trying to stay awake, elated I’m alive, but the shock is all too much for me. As I fight unconsciousness I look over to the fallen Mooney. The monster does indeed look bestial, but as I begin to accept my safety he appears more human.
They say fear makes the wolf grow bigger. Well security makes the monster more tragic.
My sympathies reach out to my attacker and I can’t stop smiling as I Iook at the unconscious man next to me. I hear the police kneel by my side, but their words are a blur. I look at Mooney’s scarred and beaten face and I see a pained peace in his slow breaths.
Tears rolls down my cheeks, only they’re not tears. I understand this when I go to brush them away. As I wipe my eye I feel something long and thin poking into it. But it’s not going in, it’s coming out. My fingers feel around the edge of the eye socket, itself nothing more than the rim to a hole in my face. I follow the fleshy cord that hangs out of my skull, scooping up the organic twine in my hand until I come to a dead, fleshy orb at the end. My eye.
Sympathy turns to anger, but his expression remains the same.
As I looked on, I hoped he’d die that night.
A part of me thinks he did too.
Street tough Detective Norton is a broken man.
Still grieving the murder of his girlfriend he is called to investigate the daylight slaughter of an entire office amid rumours of a mysterious and lethal computer program.
As the conspiracy unfolds the technological killer has a new target.
Fighting for survival Norton must also battle his inner demons, the wrath of MI5 and a beautiful but deadly mercenary only known as Orchid.
Unseen, undetectable and unstoppable.
In the age of technology the most deadly weapon is a few lines of code.
“Truly a horror tale for the modern digital age.” - Duncan P Bradshaw, author of Class Three
“Fast paced, action-packed, intricately plotted and filled with technological paranoia.” - Duncan Ralston, author of Gristle & Bone
“He manages to combine gore, sex, humour and suspense with a gripping story line.”- Love Horror Books
“J. R. Park’s new novella Terror Byte could be the story to bring horror back to technology based adventures.” - UK Horror Scene
“Jesus. What the fuck is this?” - Vincent Hunt, creator of The Red Mask From Mars
It’s carnival night in the seaside town of Stanswick Sands and tonight blood will stain the beach red.
Punch and Judy man, Martin Powell, returns after ten years with a dark secret. As his past is revealed Martin must face the anger of the hostile townsfolk, pushing him to the very edge of sanity.
Humiliated and stripped of everything he holds dear, Martin embarks on a campaign of murderous revenge, seeking to settle scores both old and new.
The police force of this once sleepy town can’t react quick enough as they watch the body count grow at the hands of a costumed killer.
Can they do enough to halt the malicious mayhem of the twisted Punch?
J. R. Park
“Fast-paced, uncompromising, and doesn’t pull any punches whatsoever.” – DLS Reviews
“It’s a heartbreaking tale. I’d strongly urge anyone, looking for a straight forward raw read to buy this as soon as possible.”- HorrorWorlds.com
“Sharp writing, solid characterization and with one of the most memorable endings in recent memory.” – Ginger Nuts of Horror
“Graphical nightmares effectively place the reader in an uneasy position.” - Horror Palace
“A rousing combo of parental angst and seething evil. A great spin on the post-modern serial killer.” - Daniel Marc Chant, author of Mr Robespierre
“A hard hitting story of the darker side of life in a sleepy little seaside town.” - Paul Pritchard, Amazon reviewer
What woke you from your sleep?
Was it the light coming through the curtains? The traffic from the street outside?
Or was it the scratching through the walls? The cries of tormented anguish from behind locked doors? The desperate clawing at the woodwork from a soul hell bent on escape?
Welcome to a place where the lucky ones die quickly.
Upon waking, the nightmare truly begins.
“Upon Waking is a novel that will challenge you as a reader.” – Ginger Nuts of Horror
“An absolute masterclass in gut-wrenchingly violent horror.” – DLS Reviews
“J. R. Park has written one of the most painfully twisted books I have ever had the pleasure of reading. I loved it!” – “ Book Lovers
“Justin Park needs help. I can’t think of any other way of putting it. The part of his mind that this story came from must be one of the darkest places in the universe. His writing however, is just wonderful.” – Confessions of a Reviewer
“It’s almost like poetry in form and prose. But it’s a trick. A fantastically disgusting trick.” – Thomas S Flowers, author of Rei
nhiet
“Seriously – buy this book!” – Matt Shaw, author of Sick B*stards.
For up to date information on the work of J. R. Park visit:
JRPark.co.uk
Facebook.com/JRParkAuthor
Twitter @Mr_JRPark
For further information on the Sinister Horror Company visit:
SinisterHorrorCompany.com
Facebook.com/sinisterhorrorcompany
Twitter @SinisterHC
