Shantago's Revenge

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by Nicholas Penn


  Well I guess I just lost another friend, all thanks to toggles. Uncle Grant warned me that this would happen. He told me to just walk away, but I wouldn’t listen.

  Uncle Grant asked me to leave town while I still had the chance. My gramps’ cousin also said to let it go, but I didn’t listen to any of them. Jenna was now dead and the toggles were ready to march on Willoughby Woods at noon. I just had to be the hero. Well now it looked like the hero was getting hung out to dry.

  Guilty Feelings

  It’d now been a whopping twenty-seven hours without sleep. My mind was now speeding through tonight’s deadly chain of events. Was there something that I could have done differently to have stopped the stabbing and killing of my friend Jenna? It all happened so fast, where did it all go wrong?

  I was the one who told Jenna to bring in Ralph. Maybe I should have brought him in the room and let her stay in the bedroom. I was also the one that told Jenna to grab the book. Was I being selfish? Did I want the book for other reasons besides saving Willoughby Woods? The answer is yes. If there was a way to bring back Piper I would have tried it. All hopes to resurrect the dead were in that cursed book. I would have done anything, so maybe I am guilty, guilty of a destructive heartache.

  If things couldn’t get any worse, Detective Marlowe entered the room. He sat down in front of me with a styrofoam cup and a familiar looking book. Without saying a word Marlowe sipped from the cup for several seconds before making a sound of enjoyment. “Ah, now that’s a good cup of joe.” Sliding the book on the table in front of me, Marlowe said, “So I found your little book at the cabin that you’d been writing. As a matter of fact, I’ve found a lot of new and interesting things about you in the last twenty-four hours.”

  Marlowe expected a response, yet I said nothing. “So how long have you been writing this little fairytale? You have quite a story written with all those little monsters. It makes me wish that I was a kid again. If I was, I just might believe.” Marlowe began thumbing through the book, mocking each one of the characters. “Let’s see now, so what is a flixter? How about a fire- breathing stroggle? What’s that supposed to be?” I still didn’t say anything. I took the punishment and sat quietly listening to the ridicule. “So did you make up all of these characters or did you have help? You know, Jordan, some of these illustrations are quite good. Looking at your drawings of the toggle princess, she had a good set of–”

  “Enough;” I snapped back at Marlowe. “What’s your problem anyways?”

  “What’s my problem? I didn’t trust you from the first time that I laid my eyes on you. I knew you were a murderer, and now I’m going to prove it.”

  I rolled my eyes at Marlowe’s accusation. Taunting him I said, “First of all, how is John doing?” Marlowe looked shifty as he started to answer but I cut him off. “It’s okay you don’t have to answer that. Marlowe, of all people you should know that none of this matters anyways.” He looked a bit bewildered at my last statement. “Didn’t you know? Today there will be an eclipse.”

  Marlowe looked confused, “So, what’s that got to do with the price of tea in China?”

  “Everything, and if you really want to know, I’ll tell you.” He shook his head yes, so I continued. “Today, when the eclipse happens, there will be a monstrous attack on Willoughby Woods.”

  “Great, now you are making terroristic threats against our town and our country. You must like adding charges to your rap sheet, which is getting rather long I might add.”

  “Marlowe, you have a chance to stop it. If you do, you will be the hero. How does that sound?”

  Marlowe liked the idea of being a hero. I could tell that his mind was working overtime once I’d brought up the situation. Being the hero of the day was just the thing to stroke his ego. It was enough to get Marlowe interested.

  “So what kind of attack is it?” Marlowe then mumbled something under his breath. I couldn’t quite make it out but it sounded like “stick to the plan.” After his burbling, it seemed like Marlowe hit the reset button. “Jordan Brady, you are a piece of work.”

  I continued, “Toggles are coming to take out Willoughby Woods and then the world. You must do something to stop it while there’s still time.”

  Marlowe chuckled at the thought. “So, little green monsters are going to attack at high noon and take out the whole town? Sounds like a really bad western to me. Now I’ve heard it all.” The mysterious audience knocked on the window to get Marlowe’s attention. “Excuse me for a moment and try not to cause any trouble while I’m gone.”

  “I shot back, “Don’t worry, I’ll be right here.”

  Marlowe shrugged his head as the knocks became louder. “I’ll be back.”

  “You do that. By the way, let whoever is behind the magic curtain know that there’s no need for this song and dance. I know exactly what you guys are trying to do. If you plan to bury me, then just do it.”

  Univisions

  Marlowe was gone for a very long time before I looked up at the clock. It had now been over thirty hours without sleep and my mind was starting to falter. The sound of the wall clock ticking was just about to drive me mad when something peculiar started happening.

  Between the earlier bash to the skull and a lack of sleep my sanity was now at risk. I was now seeing things that weren’t real. At least I had enough cognizances to realize that it was all utter deception. I couldn’t help it, but I was starting to hallucinate.

  At first it started out simple. For instance I saw a sock-nosed toggle with big floppy ears walk up to me and then right through the wall. I thought No big deal. I can still pull it together. Besides, it probably was just another mind game being generated by the evil one.

  Little by little my mind slipped from reality into fantasy. Loki toggles, boggles, snarks, and raw snorgs filled the room. The funny part: All of the toggles were blowing on their thumbs until each toggle burst like a balloon.

  A little while later, as my mind was still crashing, I thought I saw Piper standing in the room with me. In this vision she was wearing a yellow ballroom dress and dancing. Swaying back and forth, she was slowly making her way towards me. I wanted to join her but I knew that it was my mind playing tricks. Besides I was still handcuffed to the table. After a while Piper waltzed her way past me and through the white washed wall. I was trying to keep it together, but that too looked to be evanescent.

  Marlowe entered the room with five manila folders, each about one inch thick of what looked like notes, news articles, and clippings. “Jordan, we received a 911 call from your phone the other day. The operator said that you wanted to report a kidnapping or abduction. According to the report it sounded like you panicked and the phone call mysteriously cut off. Did you know that anytime this happens, we follow up on the call, just in case it was something more serious than a prank?”

  Feeling a little uncomfortable about the new information, my words stumbled a little. “Yes, well I guess so. I mean that all makes sense if you think about it.”

  “Well we were able to track the phone call to Willoughby Park. After a little searching agents fished out your cell phone from the pond. We also found a maintenance man to question about that day. He said that he witnessed a young man that fit your description flip out about a missing little boy. How do you respond to that?”

  Again I was somewhat at a loss for words, but I also thought Marlowe might be bluffing. I decided to fess up about tossing my cell. “Well, all of this is true. I saw a little boy kidnapped by some daunting fellow. I guess I panicked and tossed my phone in the pond; something that I now regret.”

  “You tossed your phone in because you are guilty. How else would a dozen children end up at your cabin? The only logical explanation would be that you are the kidnapper and a serial killer.”

  I didn’t respond to his accusations; instead I took his pen and started drawing a loki toggle there on a manila folder. “Aren’t you going to answer me? You know, Mr. Brady, these are some pretty serious charges being bro
ught up against you. It would be in your interest to cooperate to the best of your ability.”

  I still didn’t answer. This time while handcuffed I managed to draw a thunderous veloci-stroggle wearing a flowered hat. “Mr. Brady, are you even paying attention to me? Let me see what you are doing.” After reviewing the artwork, Marlowe started to snicker at my drawings. “So that’s all that you are thinking about right now? Monsters, right? Well let me tell you Mr. Brady, even scary monsters can’t save you now.”

  I quickly jabbed back. “Finally you said something that makes sense. See, Marlowe you are right. They do not want to save me from you. In fact, the toggles wouldn’t like anything better then to come down to the police station, kill me, and then rip your face off. Unfortunately that is their plans for today.”

  Marlowe threw the manila folder with the drawings I’d just made across the room in anger. “Here you go again with those stupid monsters.” As soon as he acted out, I heard one large knock on the wall. Marlowe seemed to calm down once he’d heard the knock. I looked at Marlowe and chuckled. “So, Marlowe, big brother is trying to keep you in check. You’d better stop throwing those temper tantrums. It seems to upset the higher ups.”

  Intense Confrontation

  Marlowe looked up at the glass mirror and then got back on topic. “So we were able to interview each of the children that you abducted before they were released to their parents. All twelve of the children said that monsters kidnapped them and brought them to your cabin. When we arrived, we didn’t find any monsters. What we did find at your cabin were some pretty lifelike costumes, which could have fooled any little child into thinking that they were seeing the real thing. How do you explain this?”

  I couldn’t explain it, well not without Marlowe exploding on me again. If I told him more about toggles he would probably throw his chair at me. Instead I just sat there listening to the tick tock of the wall clock.

  “Aren’t you going to answer me? You know I could bury you right now but my partner told me to give you the benefit of the doubt. Apparently he has some kind of relationship with you. Personally I think you are a whack job that needs to be put away.”

  Marlowe moved to the next manila folder as his demeanor seemed to take a turn for the worst. “Let’s face it. I can tie you to at least five murders.” I looked intrigued once Marlowe made this new revelation. “Go on. This has got to be good.”

  “So while running some old vehicle registrations the other day I ran across something very interesting–an old Honda registered in the name of one Jordan Brady. So I decided to do some more fact finding and checking and found out that it had been crushed at the scrap yard. What do you have to say about that?”

  “Well, the car quit running and so I had it crushed, that’s all. I’d say every one of the cars at the junkyard met the same fate. That’s why it’s a junkyard and not a used car lot.”

  Marlowe just sat there in awe for several seconds. “You think that you are so clever. You lied to me the other day when you told me that you were driving a Jeep–” I immediately cut him off. “I didn’t lie to you. The Jeep is the only thing that I have to drive. The Honda had already been crushed by then. Besides, what does that matter?” Marlowe looked like he was about to bust with anger. “You know perfectly well why that matters. You are the one that hit and killed that little girl, and when the videos are released of the traffic cameras in that area, I will personally see to it that your life becomes a living hell.” There was an immediate pounding on the glass once he’d said this. Frustrated, Marlowe snapped, “I’ll be right–” I cut off Marlowe’s grumblings as I smartly chimed, “Hurry back Marlowe. It’s just now getting good.”

  Lowering the Guillotine

  This time Marlowe entered the room with a green envelope. “Marlowe, before we start I really need to take a leak.”

  Marlowe shot back, “You can take a leak when I say you can. Right now we are going to talk about your place of employment.” Puzzled by this, I took the bait. “Okay what would you like to know?”

  “According to my sources you work for a company that manufactures and sells a very powerful hallucinogen. It goes by the street names of California Sunshine, Battery Acid, Boomers, and Doses, among others. It’s more potent than LSD and one can easily overdose if given the wrong amount. The trick about this drug is that it’s very hard to show up in a tox screen–unless you know what you are looking for that is.”

  “Are you going somewhere with this?” I really had no idea what he was talking about and my bladder was about to bust. If he only knew how badly I needed to go. Who am I kidding, he was using my lack of bladder voidance as a form of torture.

  “So I’ve already linked you to a vehicular homicide. Let’s see what else you are guilty of.” Marlowe opened the green envelope. “A few days ago I decided to do some digging around, right after your fictitious dog story came to fruition, and I found some rather disturbing news. It seems like three people that you had a close connection with also had something else in common besides just being your acquaintances.”

  While Marlowe was going on about nothing, I thought, Why are they doing this? I’ve been up now for almost two days. Why won’t they let me rest a little first? I’m sure after a long nap all of this would make more sense. Right now I can barely keep my eyes open.

  “Jordan, wake up and pay attention. I promise that you don’t want to miss this next part.” I bit my lip, hoping that the nerves in my mouth would trigger enough adrenaline to keep me awake. “Your grandfather, your friend Wyatt, and now John Jamison all had this particular drug come back on their tox screens.

  “I visited the hospital and they found video of your gramps talking out of his mind about those little green monsters right before he passed away. I’m sure that it was drug influenced. Even John Jamison told me that your friend Wyatt acted like a wild man right before he shot him. John told me that he’d seen the symptoms before and he knew that Wyatt was on drugs of some sort. All of the signs were there and that’s why John took him out. He knew Wyatt was out of control. What do you think about that?”

  I took offense to his last accusation. As my lips tightened I sounded off, “Frankly Marlowe, I think you are grasping at straws here. I mean you are telling me that I somehow made it into the lab and got my hands on the drug? Wouldn’t it be easier to just go buy it off the street? You’re a cop you should know.”

  Marlowe didn’t like the fact that I was insinuating he’d bought drugs off the street before. Marlowe retorted back, “Jordan, it all makes sense. Besides, you work for the company. How hard would it be, especially for a trusting employee such as you? Man you have everyone fooled; everyone except for me.”

  His last comment touched a nerve: “You don’t have a leg to stand on. I didn’t take those drugs, besides, we all know what this is really about. You are just trying to take me down because your feelings got hurt the other day at the police station.”

  Marlowe looked upset when I said this. “That’s a crock and you know it. Why, I don’t even know what you are talking about.” Marlowe had an underhanded and rather sneaky look as he shuffled the folders there on the table.

  “You know what I’m talking about. It kills you that I could easily hookup with your co-worker Jessica, and by the way, she acted around you; I could tell that she wouldn’t give you the time of day.”

  This sent Marlowe into a wild frenzy. I watched Marlowe stand and toss his chair at the wall. He put his hands around my neck as I heard a loud thunderous thumping on the mirrored glass. “I’ll get you for this Jordan Brady. I don’t know who you think you are, but I promise you that your time of being a free man is over. Marlowe released his grip as he once again stormed out of the room. “Hurry back Marlowe, I so enjoy our little talks.”

  The Real King, Shawn Toggle

  Marlowe entered the room grinning from ear to ear. He brought in with him a few pictures. “Let’s get down to the brass tacks here.” Marlowe laid out pictures of the night’s unfort
unate events: an empty chair with duct tape and rope lying in it, and one of Jenna lying there dead. “You’re telling me that when you arrived at the cabin neither Jenna or yourself noticed Officer John?”

  “That is correct. His truck was parked in the bushes and there were no signs of him.”

  “Why then did you not call it in when you recognized his truck abandoned there at your cabin?”

  “I tried to but the phone lines were down.”

  “Oh that’s right and you tossed your cell phone into the pond at the park–how interestingly convenient of you to do so. I’ll tell you Jordan, you are always quick with all of the right answers.”

  Marlowe’s eyes shifted towards the next set of pictures. “So at what point did you find Jenna lying there in a pool of blood with a sword run through her?”

  “I told you, it was after I went outside to check the phone lines.”

  Marlowe laid a picture on the table of Jenna’s dead body. Trying to force my hand into confessing, he spouted off, “Just what happened during that little time you were away that made Jenna end up violently murdered? I thought you cared for this girl? Don’t you want her to rest in peace?”

  It was time to come clean. Even I couldn’t continue this insane deception any longer. Unhinged, I purposely told Marlowe, “Okay, okay you’ve got me. I’ll tell you everything.” I saw Marlowe crack a smile as he slowly brought out a tape recorder from under his shirt and pushed record. “That’s more like it, now clearly please say your name for everyone.”

  With a confessing tone I said, “My name is Jordan Brady, and this is my story. Toggles violently attacked the cabin. Hundreds of them were lined up out front with generals walking the battle lines and giving orders. Shantago, their king, burst onto the scene and wanted to do a trade with us: All of the missing children for the rogue toggle that they’d been searching for. Jenna and I happened to have him in our possession. As I gave the command to Jenna to hand over the heel toggle to Shantago, I tried to overpower the king and free the little guy. As I held him in a head lock the rogue toggle ran out the door. I screamed at Jenna to snag the Toggle Handbook from the king’s knapsack, which was positioned on his belt. While doing this, one of Shantago’s generals stabbed Jenna in the back. I immediately let go of the toggle king and went to tend to Jenna but she was already dead. The toggle king and generals then left the scene, but before they did they gave me a warning that they are going to attack Willoughby Woods today at noon. That’s why you have to do something to stop them.”

 

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