Inner Horror

by L. A. Tafe

  I look up at the mirror above the bar and I can see his black cloak in the corner, only his teeth are showing underneath his hood. Always smiling. Always haunting me. How long will he keep this up?

  I try to ignore it but the smell grows worse, not just blood. But the putrid smell of death. I continue looking at the mirror while Amy says something to me, too wrapped up in Lancifer to hear her.

  The room is filled with people, all of them laughing or talking, people getting seated and people done with their meals getting up and leaving. But all I can stare at, all I focus on is Lancifer.

  I hear Him whispering from across the room. I can’t make out what he is saying, he is practically mumbling, talking fast, his voice deep. Slowly the whispering gets louder till I can just barely make it out. Then He just stops.

  I turn to face him, pushing off from the bar, spinning my stool just a little to fast. I crash into our waitress, causing her to drop a handful of fresh drinks.

  The drinks hit the ground as I step from my stool. The ground slips out from under me and I fall backwards, banging my head on the bar counter. I’m knocked cold before I even hit the floor.

  I wake up in the diner, still sitting on a bar stool, looking in the mirror at Lancifer. I'm asleep.

  The diner is just as lively as before, but the friendly people are replaced by my nightmares. The carnival clowns are everywhere, feasting upon their grotesque meals, moldy worm infested meat that could be from any animal, some of the plates look like they have human limbs, arms, legs, bloody eyes sticking out of stews.

  I see the two little twin girls eating the cat I saw them chasing, tearing the hair off before sinking their teeth into the flesh.

  The clowns are dressed up in ruffles and bright colors, rips of fabric are missing form their costumes, and blood stains all over as well. All of them are wearing birthday party hats shaped like dotted cones with tassels on the top.

  The clowns all go about eating, viciously tearing into whatever lays on their plates with their shark like teeth. Only Lancifer pays any attention to me, whispering again, now loud enough to hear. “Oh good your back!” He says to me, coming across the room to sit in the stool next to me, the one Amy was in.

  I watch as the waitress comes out of the kitchen to serve us our food, Possum on a skewer, the eyes staring at me indifferently. She throws the skewer down in front of us, cracking the plate it lands on.

  The waitress’ southern charm and hospitality is gone, replaced by heavy eye shadow and a guttural voice that could only belong to the gruffest of men

  “Is that any way to serve us, beautiful?” Lancifer asks her. Is this sick bastard flirting with her? She is far from beautiful, Her brown hair is frizzed beyond belief and unsightly moles have replaced the cute freckles that once covered her face.

  She doesn’t speak to Lancifer, instead walks back through the door to the kitchen. Lancifer’s arms grow out from his body and folds around the waitress, dragging her out of the kitchen, back to the bar then up and over it.

  Lancifer holds the waitress in his lap. She doesn’t fight him, just looks at him without any emotion at all.

  “I said,” Lancifer repeats, “Is that any way to serve us?” His tongue spews from his mouth and tickles the waitress’ neck. She laughs, a girls laugh that doesn’t match her voice.

  “Stop it!” The waitress squeals, “Only my brothers can do that!” What did she just say? I shake my head in disbelief.

  Lancifer retracts his tongue and laughs, “You’re right, my dear. I wouldn’t want your inbred brothers upset.” He says it mockingly, sliding his hand up the waitress’ skirt.

  “What’s the matter, Lance? Is this woman not to your liking?” Lancifer scoffs. The waitress looks at me, everything about her is repulsive. From her stained teeth to her trashy make up, she is hideous.

  As if seeing I needed convincing, the waitress pushes up on her breasts and licks her lips, her dirty cracked lips.

  I look away from the waitress and spot a butter knife on the bar counter. I'm sick of this shit. Lancifer needs to go. Now.

  I focus my thoughts on the knife, instantly the blade expands and sharpens into a butcher’s knife. I snatch the knife from the counter, slashing out at Lancifer in one quick motion.

  Lancifer sees it coming and puts the Waitress in the path of my knife. I let go of the knife, horrified with what I just did. Blood shoots from the waitress’ wound, coating my arms and face in black blood. The waitress crumbles to the ground, lifeless, dead.

  I drop the knife and turn away in horror, catching sight of myself in the mirror above the bar; the woman’s blood dripping down my face onto my chest. What have I done?

  In the mirror I can see Lancifer has moved to one of the tables nearby, his feet up on a chair, he is eating something small from his hand, he looks ready for a show.

  A man in a white apron bursts from the swinging kitchen doors, a cleaver in his hand, his apron stained with fresh blood. The most horrifying thing about the man is mounted upon his shoulders. Where his head should be, is the head of a dog, tall pointed ears with black fur, like a German shepherd. And he looks pissed!

  “Who has killed my niece!?” The man snarls, his canine teeth barred. “WHO?!” He roars, white foam falls from his mouth. He looks around the room till he settles on me, looking me up and down, seeing the blood on my face and chest.

  “It was you!” The man barks, taking a swing at me with his massive clever. Oh shit! I duck the blade and fall from the stool, landing right on my ass

  I crab walk backwards as the man pries the clever from the counter top, bumping my head against a table. Turning around, I see Lancifer peering down on me.

  He leans down, “It seems you pissed off the old dog!” Lancifer laughs.

  I look back at the large dog headed man, He runs a finger down his daughter’s cheek, cops a feel on her breast, then snatches my knife from the ground and turns on me.

  Lancifer grabs me beneath my arms and pulls me to my feet; pushing me forward saying, “Go get him!”

  The man points his knife at me and follows through with the clever, hurling it at my head. The cleaver flies through the air, sure to strike me between the eyes but I duck my head time, completely letting go all thoughts that this is just a dream.

  The cleaver pierces Lancifer through the shoulder and sends him flying, landing on a table that gives out under his weight. Silence follows the crash, all of the clowns now watching me, their eyes watching my every move.

  Lancifer pulls himself up and pulls the cleaver from his shoulder, his black blood oozes from the wound and clings to the blade. He lets out a fit of laughter. “You missed!” He tells the dog man, tossing the cleaver back to him.

  I watch in horror as the cleaver flies through the air, going right to the thing that wants to kill me.

  The man catches the blade and slowly creeps toward me, cleaver raised high, ready to strike. I know if I back into the corner ill be screwed, no other option but to wait to get chopped up.

  So I rush the man, diving beneath the blade, rolling, and getting to my feet before the man turns around. The man swings around, the knife leading. I jump back, just getting a small slice across my chest.

  The man continues slashing back and forth, each slash gets closer and closer to hitting home.

  The man throws the knife aside, burying it one of the nearby clowns, taking the cleaver in both of his huge hands and lunging at me.

  The cleaver takes a chunk out of my cheek before I can move my head to the side. Blood pours from the wound, splattering upon the black and white floor.

  I fall down and the man smiles, as best a dog can smile. “Heel.” Lancifer says from across the room. The man whimpers like a pup. “I said heel!” Lancifer roars and the man drops the cleaver, stepping away from me. disappearing into the kitchen without another protest.

  No one but Lancifer and I are in the diner now; all of the clowns have evaporated into thin air. Lancifer leisurely walks to me, there’
s blood in my eyes and I can barely see him through the red stinging.

  “As you can see my boy, the game has changed. I’ll be taking your life soon. I plan to enjoy the kill when the time is right.” I hear him say it but he sounds so far away, like an echo in a cave.

  His laugh rings out, so close to my ear he must be right next to me. Then all I can hear is his tongue lapping up something on the tiles.

  I wake up to Amy hovering over me, worry spread across her face. She is saying something to me but I can’t hear her, my ears are ringing, I can’t hear anything until it fades.

  “Lance!” Amy yells, “Lance, are you okay?” I nod in response, my head pounding and my vision a little blurry, I think just a nod is appropriate.

  I try to sit up but my head begins to spin and a sick feeling hits me in the stomach, and back down I go. Amy is almost in tears now and I think its time for me to try and calm her down.

  “Amy,” I say weakly, “I'm okay, hon. Just bumped my head. I'm fine.” The tears in her eyes run dry and I can see she isn’t so worried.

  I reach back slowly and lift my head just a little bit. I can feel a bit of dry blood, some of it still wet. Shit, I really hit hard.

  I try to sit up again, feeling just a little better now. “No, no, stay down, Sherry is calling an ambulance.” A big man in a white food stained apron tells me. For a moment I can see a dog head and I scramble to get away from him, crab walking and kicking with my feet.

  Amy and the man both look at me confused. The man’s face is human again, chubby and gruff. The waitress peaks her head over the counter with a phone in her hand, “Do ya still want an ambulance?” she asks, ambulance is broken up at the syllables. I cringe as I hear her southern twang, no longer does it sound so sweet.

  “I don’t need a doctor. I’m okay.” I tell them, just wanting to get the hell out of this place. Amy gives me a concerned look. “I’m taking you to the doctor, Lance.” She says and I nod an okay, hard to argue with her when my heads bleeding and I can barely see straight.

  I stand with Amy and the Cooks help, everyone in the diner looking at me, their faces are blurry, almost like they have face paint on. I keep my eyes half opened just so I can’t focus on any of them.

  Amy helps me into the car and I can see Lancifer in the back seat, sitting, staring, laughing. Amy shuts my door. “Not now” I tell him with all the disdain I can muster. He doesn’t make a sound, doesn’t disappear either.

  Amy gets in the passenger seat, fixes the mirrors and tells me to just relax we will be there soon. I give a quick nod, never taking my eyes off Lancifer.

  He just sits in the back, picking at his blood stained teeth. How is he haunting me while I'm awake? Amy pulls out of the parking lot and takes me to the hospital.

  CHAPTER FOUR.

  I’ve always hated hospitals. The colors of the walls, the combination of smells, Antiseptic and putrid sickness. But most of all, I hate the doctors themselves, a bunch of quacks that tell me no more than I already know.

  “Looks like you bumped your head there pretty bad.” The Doctor says. An older guy, his hair thoroughly graying, and a look of boredom on his face.

  “Yep” I tell him, head is pounding and I wish they let Amy back so I wouldn’t have to talk to this jack off.

  “How did it happen?” He asks as he pulls on the stethoscope around his neck. I’m in no mood to talk with this guy and I'm pretty sure he knows it.

  “I slipped.” I respond, short quick and to the point. He nods slightly and takes out a small flashlight from his coat, shining it in my eyes.

  “Just go ahead and follow the light for me.” I follow it up and down, right and left, my head throbs with each movement. The doctor puts the light back and asks me to turn around.

  He takes a look at the back of my head, “Does it hurt?” “Nope, it’s just for show.” I fucking hate doctors . . .

  A couple of stitches later and a diagnosed concussion, and I’m finally able to leave. I see Amy sitting in the lobby; the same worried look on her face.

  She stands up and walks me out to the car, putting her hand on my back to support me just a little. I look in the back seat as I get in the car, expecting to see Lancifer sitting there like before. No sign of him and my nerves settle just a little.

  “So?” Amy asks as she starts the car. “I have a concussion and the doctor wants to see me again tomorrow.” She nods, “I’ll take you.”

  I give her a smile and she smiles back. “I wasn’t really planning on . . .” Amy’s sharp look cuts me off, “Your going.” “Okay. Take the car for tonight then and get me in the morning.” Amy nods and I don’t say anything else the whole ride home, hard to talk when all you can here is the pounding of your head.

  Amy drops me off with a kiss and I walk into the house, stumbling slightly on the steps up to the door. “Anyone home?” I yell, it echoes throughout the house. Nope. No ones home. I’m not all that surprised.

  I go into the kitchen and look for something to eat, raiding the fridge till I find something that sounds half way decent. I take a bowl of ice cream to the couch in the living room, settling on the couch in front of the big screen.

  I finish up the bowl by tilting it and drinking what has melted, my headache slightly numbed by a brain freeze. I settle on some African wildlife show, whispering commentators and a bit of gore does a concussion good.

  I sprawl out on the couch, finding a throw pillow for my head and a blanket to drape over me. How long did the doc say to stay awake for?

  Just the thought of sleep brings me back to thinking about Lancifer, how he must be just be waiting for me to join him. I sit up, forgetting all about getting too comfortable.

  I look out the window to the patio and I see the sun is almost setting. With the dark I begin to feel fatigue setting in, all of the days events taking their toll.

  I lay my head back and nestle my head into the leather cushion, maybe just a little comfy.

  I think I hear a knock at the door and wait for another. Just as I blow it off as nothing there is another, harder and louder this time. Oh go away. I don’t get up, probably just a girl scout anyway.

  There’s another knock, and then another, And another. Again and again the knocks come, closer and closer together, becoming more of a pound than a knock till they are continuous. It must be one of my parents. Must have forgotten how to work the damn lock.

  The pounding continues as I get up from the couch, immediately I feel dizzy. “Alright! Damn it, I'm coming!” I yell to the door.

  I pull the door open quickly, ready to yell at whoever is on the other side. No one is there. I peak my head through the doorway and look around, the street is dead, no cars, no pets, not even a bird in the sky. Fucking kids.

  It isn’t the first time some kids have done something like this, normally I would wait at the door, hoping they will come back so I can open it just as they knock and scare the hell out of them. But my head hurts too much to worry about it.

  I slam the door shut and turn to go back to my lions eating antelopes and my comfy couch.

  Just as I take a step away from the door, there is another knock. I spin around, already dead set on chasing the kid down and telling him I'm going to call the cops.

  I reach for the doorknob before I realize the front door is no longer a suburban home door. The door in front of me is the sad rotting remnants of my dream house. I am asleep.

  “No.” I mumble, “Not now!” Tears well up in my eyes, “not now.” I repeat, not ready to face Lancifer and the hell he has created.

  The decrepit door explodes, small splinters burying themselves in my flesh. I am blown backwards by the blast, pain igniting all over my body. Lancifer’s laugh rings in the air.

  I lay in pain, trying desperately not to believe what’s happening. I try opening my eyes but can’t, long sharp splinters are sticking through my eyelids holding them shut.

  I imagine the tiny wooden spears coming out of my eyes, focusing individually on each ti
ny piece. With a sharp pain the wood comes out and my eyes pop open.

  From my back, I look out the open doorway, seeing the tops of carnival rides. When my ears finally stop ringing, I hear Lancifer moving just outside the doorway, one of his claws appear on the door trim, the nails clicking on the wood.

  His head comes around with his sharp teeth spread into one of his malicious looking smiles. A surprising hatred rises inside me. Giving me the strength to get to my feet, healing myself as I stand, every splinter pushes out and falls to the floor, the wounds sowing up behind them.

  My anger builds with the pain, burning through me till I lash out, lunging at Lancifer, catching him in the jaw with my fist, following it with a punch to his gut.

  Lancifer’s smile vanishes and he turns on me. Hitting me in the chest with both of his claws, ripping into me and sending me flying backwards.

  “How dare you hit me!” Lancifer yells at me, looking down on me with disdain, bleeding just a little from his lip before the wound comes together and heals. “Fuck you” I spat, blood trickling from my mouth. “The nightmare has only begun! No need to rush.” Lancifer spats, his grin back on his face.

  “What do you want from this, Lancifer?” I ask him, gesturing to the carnival outside. Lancifer walks over to me, kneels down and closes one of his claws around my neck. “I want your life, my dear child. I am going to kill you.”

  His words echo inside my thoughts, terror takes hold of me and doesn’t let go. He can’t kill me! None of this is real. Is it? Can He?

  Lancifer tosses me to the ground and walks out the front door, “Drag him out!” Two clowns come in the door, they look like twins, only difference is the color of the hats that cover their small patches of neon blue hair, both of them holding huge wooden mallets.

  The twins beat me to hell, bashing my bones with their huge wooden hammers that seem to be familiar; they make me think of a Carny game that involves a bell. With the cracking of my bones the name of the game escapes me.