Mischiefmakers: Dark Macabre (22 page)

The ghostly figure speaks, with a voice only heard by Melissa.
“Melissa, release your anger, it is not too late. I can help you.”
“It is too late, Sarah, you can’t help her!” announces the demon.
Father Johns stands upright as his shoulder dribbles blood. His

golden pendant continues to glow, the holy water within it beginning to boil. Father Johns races toward the gateway of clouds.
“No! You will die, preacher!” the demon screams.
“This is my destiny!”
Father Johns hurls himself into the whirling clouds. Imme-
diately his body is consumed by the clouds, and he bursts into
flames. He screams in pure agony, his eyes exploding in fire. Then
Father Johns vanishes. The clouds hastily turn a deep black; the
on-coming demons are no longer visible.
An infant falls from under Melissa’s blood-tainted nightgown, crashing to the floor. It writhes and wriggles, gasping for
air. Born premature, the baby is not yet fully developed. After
a moment, it stops moving and lies motionless as a thick, slimy
film slides off its body. Its skin is a pale white, its head large
and abnormal, its open eyes like black mirrors, with an emerald
green tint. With its mouth quivering slightly, it speaks in a low
scratchy tone.
“You have not won, you have just delayed the inevitable.” The
infant’s body turns white as chalk. Then it dries and crumbles into
dust that whisks into the cloudy gateway just before it finally col-
lapses.
The room is suddenly quiet. Finally, the last winds of the evil
storm whirl throughout the attic.
Melissa dangles lifelessly within the arms of this figure of light.
As she is embraced, a pure, white energy emerges from within the
angel, engulfing them both.

incent stands in front of the spear-tipped steel gate of the
Cathedral and watches the black clouds vanish and the
morning sun peek through. He bows his head, praying for

the safe return of his friend and teacher.
“If you do not return, Father, I will watch for the signs. I will
be ready,” he says quietly to himself. Raising his head, tears pour
from his eyes. His heart tells him his teacher will not return. “I will
be ready,” he says once more with strength.

he thinks. None of the regular customers has come in tonight.
No one, that is, except the woman pouring her heart out to him,
seated in the middle of the bar with her second shot of vodka.

“Yeah,” she answers. “I heard.” She stares at her drink and then
downs it in one gulp. She sets the glass down on the bar and stares
into space.

Searching for something else to say, the bartender asks, “Anything you wanna talk about, Carolyn?”
“I don’t know, Jeff.” With a gentle sigh, she continues. “It just
seems like nothing ever goes right. I mean, no one in my life is
worth shit.”
“Nate giving you headaches again?”
“It’s unbelievable, Jeff. The man knows I have a key, and his
dumb ass can’t even pick up the woman’s panties off the floor!”
The bartender laughs. When the woman doesn’t, he goes back to
polishing the bar. She looks at him and sighs. “Men are so damn
stupid.”
“Hey now, we all aren’t like that. Look at me,” he says, “two
kids, a beautiful wife, and I haven’t even looked at another woman
since the day we met.”
“You’re right, Jeff, not all of you are dogs, but there are enough
of you who are.”
“Just relax, one day you’ll meet someone who you will instantly
know is the one, you’ll see.” He watches the woman stare into
space. Then he shrugs and steps out from behind the bar. “I’ll be
back, I have to get another case of beer.”
Carolyn doesn’t notice the tall, handsome man step directly
behind the empty chair beside her.
“Anyone sitting here?” the man asks politely.
“No.”
“This is a nice place,” he says in an unsuccessful attempt to
entice a pleasant conversation.
“It’s okay,” she says, never looking up. The bartender returns,
placing a case of beer behind the bar, noticing his new customer.
“What can I get for you?”
“Rum and coke, and you can get the lady another one of what-
ever she’s having.”
“I didn’t ask you to buy me a drink, I don’t even know you,” she
says, slightly angered at the man’s arrogance.
“I apologize, you’re right, I should have introduced myself.”
The man stands and warmly extends his hand with a gentle smile
and emerald eyes. “I’m Harry.”

Dr. Smith received his Doctor of Podiatric Medicine degree from
Temple University’s School of Podiatric Medicine in Philadelphia,
Pennsylvania, 1999. He is also a graduate of Hampton University,
1992.

“Mischiefmakers,” a spine-tingling tale of sheer horror, Dark
Macabre Edition is the third printing. This revised edition is his
first novel.

Blame my mom she took me to scary movies when I was
very young. I think
Mischiefmakers
started then, I recognized
that I love scary movies at this young age. This book has
always been there, it was just waiting to emerge.

I started writing during my hiatus from podiatry school
95-96. Initially I was writing a book about growing up in
Essex County NJ. Then my true inspiration came during
the winter of 95. Stuck in traffic during a snow storm in
Newark NJ. Sitting there I saw an abandoned building and
imagined a very vivid scene. Remembering how much I
loved scary movies, I went home and started to write, 65,000
words 5 months later
Mischiefmakers
was born. In fact the
very first scene in the book is what imagined while starring
at the abandoned building.

My favorite characters are the new evil entities I created that caused havoc within a scene. I have so much fun
creating them. They become my favorite until I created
the next…. Therefore I have many favorite characters in
Mischiefmakers
. If I have to choose one favorite character, it
would be the skin-less child demon. Its childlike demeanor
was fun to write.

This is a revised edition of my original 2001 edition. So
Mischiefmakers
was reborn Fall of 2013, then Spring of 2014
I decided to create the
Dark Macabre Edition
.

This edition is a visual nightmare, the original
Mischiefmakers
was simple text,
Dark Macabre Edition
is formatted
to stimulate the reader visually and increase the fear factor. There have been illustrations added with macabre
symbolism.

Simple, I love the boundless imagination you can have
with suspense/horror/thrillers. I like scaring people. I can
create my own world and do as I please. I think we all imagine ruling our own kingdom, in literature you can accomplish this dream. You create the characters, their interactions
and their story. With horror you can play with the readers
senses. Striking fear while giving them a thrilling ride.

I plan to start another thriller nightmare in the spring of
2014. Then hopefully from there I will put out another book
every year.

Written in present tense, this book throws you into the
action as if you are directly involved. The illustrations are
intense and further plunge the reader into the story.