Mischiefmakers: Dark Macabre (2 page)

thunderous bolt of lightning and Harry’s moaning climax
rudely interrupts Melissa’s recollection of the past. As she
slowly regains her footing in the present, the foul odor of

Thinking to herself, This bastard is loving this and I hate him
more for that more than anything else. If I could only reach
that slender piece of glass...damn, too far! It would fit perfectly
between his ribs, then puncture a lung, and he’d squeal like a pig.
I’d tower over him, spit in his face, then grab my shit, and leave
him to these cat-sized rats. Damn, how did I end up here with this
monster?

Harry, she suddenly remembers, seemed to come out of
nowhere a few months ago. He appeared like a dark angel, she
thought at first. When other men only offered her a chance to
pleasure them, he offered her tenderness. He gave when the
other men took. He had a voice that soothed. He had eyes that
were gentle as a lamb’s. He was strangely attracted to her — and
Melissa, to Harry. He, for sure, wasn’t a looker. No Brad Pitt lookalike here, but there was something about Harry that drew her to
him. In fact, he was very sweet and endearing to her, always offering her hunks of every scrap of food he could scavenge, and his
coat when she was cold, and when you live on the streets, that sort
of loving kindness is hard to come by. At times, they would talk
for hours about life and what they wanted out of it. Like Melissa,
Harry once had big dreams. Dreams he’d long ago given up on.
Dreams that life on the streets had squashed. He always told her
she was beautiful like a princess. It’s been a long time since anyone
has given her compliments like that. It felt at times like Melissa
was living in a fairy tale. It never occurred to her he could be such
an insensitive beast, such an animal.

“Let’s wait out the rain in the old fire house,” he suggests. A
series of nice kisses quickly turn into a straight-out wrestling
match, and guess who loses.

Melissa is too scared to scream as his tight grip retracts slightly
from her neck. With thunder so loud, she wouldn’t be heard anyway.

he next day is bright with a sweet spring aroma in the air;
the sun is high in the morning sky. The only evidence of
the storm is the large puddles of water everywhere. Melissa

vaguely remembers Harry getting up saying, “Baby, I’ll see you
later.” Without answering, she rolled over and went back to sleep.
She knew she could go without seeing that bastard for the rest of
her life.

Melissa hears a scornful voice as soon as she turns the corner.
“Girl, where the hell you been all night? I was worried about you!”
There is Sarah standing in front of the shelter on Central Avenue
where they receive their daily meals. Sarah is older than Melissa
and has been on the streets a lot longer. She has taken Melissa
under her wing. Newark is a rough city, and Melissa often finds
herself in a world of trouble with her neighbors when she sleeps
in the stairways of Prince Street projects. Melissa doesn’t think
they like having a young white girl hanging around, homeless or
not. Needless to say, Sarah has saved Melissa’s ass plenty of times.
Even though Sarah is black and probably twice Melissa’s age, she
is the closest thing Melissa has to a sister now. Sarah never discusses her real age, but Melissa estimates about 35 to 40. With a
thin build and beautiful bronze skin, Sarah stands about five-ten.
Her hair in short locks makes life a little easier; it’s not like she can
make the trip to the salon every week. It’s rough enough trying to
catch a good meal. Lucky for them, the trash is never emptied on
time, and people are so damn wasteful. With Melissa’s baby face
and Sarah’s art of bullshitting, the two women seldom go hungry
and rarely look homeless.
Melissa believes Sarah left loved ones behind and wants to forget her past. Melissa has often tried to convince Sarah to share
some of her secrets, but Sarah always ignores her, so Melissa gets
the hint to change the topic.

The streets have made Sarah tough. She has become a master in
the day-to-day game of survival, often showing up at the mission
with fresh bruises from a skirmish the night before.

“I asked, where the hell you been? Are you hard of hearing or
somethin’?!”
“Sorry, Sarah, I just didn’t hear you.”
“Missy, you can’t disappear like that; it’s crazy out here. You
know we got to look out for each other.”
“You sound like a mother,” Melissa responds.
“I don’t care what I sound like, don’t just disappear like that!”
“Okay, Sarah. I see you had a wild evening.” Melissa is referring
to Sarah’s new battle scar, a puffy black-and-blue cheek.
“Yeah, before the rain, I had to jump on some folk tryin’ to
steal my shit...problem was, they jumped on me too. We gotta get
outta this, it’s gettin’ crazy out here.”
“You’re right about that.”
“Where’s that weird guy you been hangin’ with?” Sarah asks.
“I don’t know,” Melissa says in a low, angry tone. If she let on
about what happened last night, Sarah would kill him and then
her for being so stupid and gullible. Sarah doesn’t notice Melissa’s
ripped clothing because it is their usual attire, but she does notice
the look of pain on Melissa’s face. Melissa’s vagina begins to throb.
“Are you awright, Missy? You look sick.”
“I’m awright, just need to eat.”
“So, Missy, where you been?” Sarah asks again with less con-
cern in her voice.
“I was hangin’ out at the old fire house, gettin’ outta that storm
last night.”
“You were lucky. I was caught on Springfield Avenue looking
for your ass when all that shit came down. I had to camp out in
the dumpster outside of Roscoe’s Chicken and Pizza. It wasn’t all
bad though. I guess the storm stopped them from makin’ some
deliveries, so they threw some good food out, and I was right
there to gobble that shit up.”
“Well, I haven’t eaten, so can we go inside and get some food?”
They begin to walk up the brick stairs to the St. Mary’s Shelter
and Mission. It’s a worn-down old office building the St. Mary’s
Catholic Church purchased a few years ago. They supply two
good meals a day, breakfast and dinner. Although the paint is peeling off the walls and the smell of mildew fills the air, Melissa cher-
ishes the time she spends here off the streets.
This morning, like all the rest, is peaceful. All everyone wants
is some food and another chance. The mission serves lots of oatmeal, but no second chances. Frustration is on all their faces; not
all of them are bad people or strung-out on drugs. Most faces
hang low, their eyes filled with desperation. They are family men
and women, good people, some had good jobs at one time, but
one thing in their lives just destroyed everything.
Melissa dwells within her thoughts as she peers through the
familiar crowd of people. I hated what he stood for, always talking about God and how wonderful He is. Shit, God never done
anything for me. And it seems like God ain’t doing much for these
people either. Why would God allow people who praise Him every
day to live in such a shit-hole? While the rich get richer and live on
Society Hill, does God see this shelter?
As Melissa’s mind flows with questions, she and Sarah walk
up to the table to get their plates. Suddenly a piercing pain cuts
through Melissa’s entire body. Without hesitation, she falls to her
knees.
“Sarah, help me!”
“Girl, what’s wrong with you? You okay?”
“Sarah, the pain, it hurts so bad!” She screams, and tears form
as she gasps for air. It feels as if she is being burned from the
inside out. She feels her temperature quickly raise, her vision no
longer clear. Melissa can barely recognize Sarah, who is frantically
trying to lift her off the ground. She screams in total agony as
the burning rips through her body like millions of minute explosions. Melissa feels a warm sensation just above her lips, then a
salty taste fills her mouth. She begins to choke as the warm blood
overwhelms her throat. Harry, that diseased bastard. I know he
gave me somethin’, I know it!
“Oh, God! She’s bleeding bad!” Sarah tries her best to hold
Melissa, before losing her grip. Several of the volunteers rush to
help.
Sounds begin to drift farther away. Melissa feels herself drifting
away, too. The shelter, the familiar people, even Sarah is beginning
to slowly fade like mists in her memory. Melissa is seeing things in
black and white. All the color in her vision is gone. She thinks she’s
dying. She feels her body grow cold. She wants to reach out, to
grab somebody, and have them pull her back, save her from wherever it is she’s vanishing. But all at once it’s too late. All the white
quickly fades, now it’s black. Her world is all black. She figures it’s
time for her to see what life really is after death. Calm and pain
overcome her equally. Her mind is blank. There isn’t a thought or
a memory left in her brain. Through a thick mist, slowly she sees
something. Unclear at first, a tall figure comes into view, a familiar
figure, walking toward her.
“Dad? Dad, is that you? Oh, there’s my mom and my sisters,
why are they waving at me, saying good-bye forever. Wait, come
back! Please, don’t leave me! I love you, I’m sorry. I don’t want to
be alone. I can’t feel the pain anymore, but I can still hear some
screaming. It sounds far away. It must be Sarah, good-bye, Sarah,
I’ll miss you.”

elissa rises, startled by the lights in the unfamiliar room.
The lighting bounces around in her head as she attempts
to focus on a familiar object. But everything is different

and strange. She’s scared. The room is white and cleaner than any
room she has seen in years. She doesn’t know what to make of it.
Is this heaven or hell? What is this I’m lying on, feels comfortable,
a cloud maybe or some heavenly body, an angel?

I’m exhausted. Let me lie back down. Somethin’ is coming toward me. Wearing all white with a halo. Yes! This must be
heaven, my father is wrong after all. I
am
going to heaven.

Melissa, startled by the question, looks up at her supposed angel
and realizes her angel is actually a nurse. Her heaven is a hospital
room. Melissa becomes agitated and nervous. She shakes her head
frantically, trying to clear her vision.

“Yeah! I’m okay, okay enough to get up and get the fuck
outta here!” As she speaks, Melissa shuffles the sheets layer by
layer, looking frantically for her clothing and possible escape
routes.

“Ma’am, we cannot permit you to leave just yet. We have to
wait for the test results.”
“The hell you can’t! What tests?! I didn’t ask you to take no
damn tests!”
Melissa quickly finds herself involved in a wrestling match with
the stout nurse. Hearing Melissa’s food tray smashing to the floor,
two doctors and another nurse passing in the hallway rush in to
help their colleague.
“Please calm down, Miss. We are only trying to help you!” one
doctor exclaims.
“Grab her arms!” another nurse screams.
Melissa is confused and strangely disoriented. Her voice
becomes deep with a masculine tone, her jugular veins pulsate as
if they are about to burst.
“Release me, you meat! Release me or you...will...die! I will dis-
embowel each of you and devour your souls. The pleasure will
equal total ecstasy as I bathe myself in your blood. It is from her
womb your king shall rise.”
Melissa’s eyes roll deep into their sockets, disappearing into her
head. A bitter chill overwhelms the room. The doctors and nurses,
dumbfounded by the change in Melissa’s voice, look at each other
with a puzzled stare and immediately release her. Melissa staggers
into the corner before crouching to the floor.
The room instantly transforms into a frozen paradise; the walls,
the floors, the ceiling, are all covered with ice. It looks as if a win-
ter blizzard has come and gone within seconds. Icicles form in the
blink of an eye all around the room.
“Dr. Franklin! What’s going on?” Nurse Charles’ voice shivers
from the freezing temperatures and disbelief.
“I-I-I d-d-d-don’t know! I’ve n-n-never seen anything like this in
my life. Where are the doors? The windows? Where are we?” The
doctor speaks with borderline hysteria as he tries to think rationally, searching his mind for some logical explanation. The others
begin to wander around the room in a daze, their eyes glazed over.
They clutch their hospital clothing, trying to remain warm as a
brisk winter chill sweeps the room.
Dr. Franklin approaches one of the frozen cabinets to inves-
tigate. Slowly, he reaches out to touch the ice, What is this? This
is impossible! We’ve only been in here a few minutes, how could
everything freeze? It’s the middle of May! Cautiously, he brushes
the ice-like substance with his finger. It isn’t even cold, it’s warm!
The doctor lifts his finger to his nose and takes a deep breath, des-
perately trying to fathom an explanation.
“My God, it burns!” His screams rend the air, breaking every-
one’s mindless daze. A pain rips through his head, tearing his
brain and soul into pieces. Bursts of blood exit his eyes and nose,
showering the icy white cabinet. The doctor staggers backwards.
He stumbles over his own feet and falls, slamming his head on
the icy floor. His bloody eyes peer forward without so much as a
blink. The other doctor and the two nurses fall to his side to tend
to him.
“Dr. Franklin! This is Dr. Webster. Can you hear me?! Are you
okay?!” he screams as he frantically attempts to revive his col-
league.
Nurse Tracy panics. “Oh my God, look at his face! It’s bleed-
ing, it’s bleeding! Why is it bleeding? Aren’t we still in the hospi-
tal? Why isn’t anyone coming to help us?!” She runs deliriously
to the icy wall and bangs with all the strength she can muster.
“Let me out of here! Let me out of here, please God let me out!”
Exhausted, she collapses to the ground with deep wounds on her
hands from the jagged ice. Blood fills her palms as she clutches
them into tight fists.
A terrible voice suddenly breaks the silence. Out from thin air
it roars. Its powerful tone forces its words to be heard and understood.
“If you are awaiting help, it will not come. Who could save
you from me? God Himself cannot save you. You need me. I am
nourishment for your soul. I have made you what you are!”
“Who are you? What are you? What do you want from us?”
Nurse Tracey whimpers in a voice stripped by the freezing temperatures. She looks up with terror in her eyes and awaits a response.
Then suddenly,
“I am the dragon whose angels shall descend upon your flesh
like locust. Lord of the black mass, I am vengeance and indulgence. I am undefiled wisdom, author of the black book! You
mean nothing to me, animal, do not speak to me, ever, die!” The
voice is quiet. The only sound is the brisk winter breeze whistling
through the small room.
They all peer at the frozen ceiling in amazement, trying to get
a glimpse of the being with such an evil voice and arrogant temperament.
“Get away from us!” Nurse Tracey stares at Melissa, who is
unconscious in the far corner of the room. “Get out of here!”
With a timid stride, Tracey walks toward Melissa with her bloody
fists clutched by her side. Before she is within a few feet, Melissa
looks up suddenly. Her eyes are without features, no pupils, no
lids; they are completely white. All the vessels on her face pulsate
like maggots swarming over rotting meat. Her chapped lips slowly
spread apart as a swarm of flies burst from her throat. Tracey
stops and begins swinging her bloody fists at the menacing insects.
She is hurled to the other side of the room by an unseen force.
“Leave her alone!” screams Nurse Charles.
“Please leave us, we’ve done nothing to you,” the young doctor
pleads.
Nurse Charles rushes over to help the young horrified woman.
In an attempt to calm Nurse Tracey, as well as herself, she wraps
her frostbitten arms around her and begins to pray.
“Tracey, calm down...baby, please calm down.” In a quiet angelic
voice, Nurse Charles recites her favorite Psalm,
“Save me, O God, for the waters have come up to my neck. I
sink in the miry depths, where there is no foothold. I have come
to the deep waters; the floods engulf me. I am worn out from
calling for help; my throat is parched. My eyes fail, looking for my
God.”
“My God I don’t know what’s happening to us. All I ask is
that You return us to Your embrace and out of the grasp of this
evil place. My God, I know You can hear my call, You can hear
anything, please help us. Amen.” She peacefully closes her eyes,
as tears race down her cheeks, for she feels her existence coming to an end. The swarm of flies quickly begins to fall from the
air as if sprayed by poison. Her small crucifix earrings dislodge
themselves from her ears and fall onto the icy floor. Small drops
of blood aggregate around the head, foot, and each arm of the
crucifix. The drops race as though searching for tiny cracks in the
icy floor in which to embed themselves. Nurse Charles looks over
her shoulder, noticing one of the small red droplets whisk toward
a tiny fissure and disappear. She also notices her earrings as they
begin to melt easily into the seemingly impassable ice. Confused
and dazed, she stares at the melted outline of her earrings.
The evil wind disappears as suddenly as it appeared. Nurse
Charles feels a sense of numbness overtaking her body as she
looks up. A black liquid begins to form behind the ice, causing a
deep tar-like substance to slowly ooze out of the spaces where the
droplets have fallen. Dr. Webster is oblivious to the event, as he
is still trying to revive his colleague. Nurse Tracey’s eyes are shut
tight as she holds steadfast around Nurse Charles’ waist.
Quietly, Melissa lifts from the corner. Not by her own will she
stands, seemingly unconscious. Her feet hover slightly above the
frozen floor. Melissa’s hospital gown is drenched in the sweat pour-
ing from her face. Her hair, soaking wet, dangles down the sides of
her face as if she has just taken a long shower. She floats toward
the opposite end of the room, her head swaying back and forth.
Her arms dangle to her sides as if death has introduced itself.
Dr. Webster is the first to notice. As she floats pass him, he
quickly moves away, almost falling. For the devilish entity control-
ling these events, Dr. Webster has not moved fast enough, so he is
quickly thrown across the room. Dr. Webster’s body slams into a
razor sharp icicle that pierces his heart. He lets out a low moan as
his life vacates his being. The thick dark blood radiates around the
puncture wound, eventually finding the floor and creating a small
sea of blood.
Nurse Charles is terrified watching these ungodly events take
place directly in front of her. Unable to scream, talk, or even
think, she crouches and watches the floating body move closer
and closer to the wall.
As Melissa drifts toward the wall, a metamorphosis takes place.
Icicles burst through the wall, forming the shape of Melissa’s
body, the interior of her shape liquefying, swallowing her beyond
sight. The icicles bleed a black fluid, then shatter and fall to the
floor. The liquid wall becomes solid again.
Meanwhile, the black tar-like substance still flows, melting
through large portions of ice. The areas where the crucifixes
have melted through catch fire. Bits of cinder shower the room
and darken it to an eerie haze. The ice is covered with black soot.
Fire and ice oppose each other like ancient enemies. Their clashes
begin and end with bursts of fire.
The room is on fire now. Flames lick the walls, climbing
higher and higher. The flames reach out, fiery hands yearning
to snatch hold of something living to burn, yearning to devour
everything.
Nurse Charles tries to stamp out the flames. They reach out for
her. They blast in her face. The whole room begins to burn and
smoke like the bowels of Hell.
Nurse Charles attempts to lift Tracey away from the oncoming
flames. The substance begins to drip fireballs from the ceiling like
volcanic molten rock. Crashing down, it burns the ice and every-
thing within the room.
Smoke pours over the two nurses. They scream and back
away into a corner. They find themselves trapped there, as one
thunderous ball of flames come hurling toward them. They put
their hands out, trying to stop the flames from consuming them.
Screaming at the top of their lungs, they cry in pain. Their eyes
bugged with fright, they huddle even closer, but to no avail. They
are trapped and engulfed by the flames.