Why do you pick fights with other boys? It's the question Ryan has been running from all his life. The answer will shock you.
For as long as Ryan can remember, he's always wanted to be someone special. Now, a promising high school wrestler and a po...
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Ryan stood alone on a football field. The sky above him was gray and cloudy. Beyond the football field existed a world of black nothingness for as far as the eye could see. The atmosphere on the football field was cold, but not just in the sense of physical feeling. It was as if the area was devoid of all happiness and joy; incapable of producing any positive emotion. In this realm was nothing, but lifelessness. This was a world where spirits came to die.
You've been here before.
"What?"
A young boy stood in front of Ryan. Where he came from one could not say. A feeling of familiarity came over Ryan as he stared at the boy. It was as if the boy had been with him all his life even though Ryan ironically couldn't place him. The boy's complexion was pale white as if he had seen a ghost or, worse, died. The boy's frame was thin and he couldn't have been more than ten years old. The expression on his face was frozen in just one petrified look of terror.
"What's wrong?" Ryan asked the boy.
The boy did not answer. He remained frozen in his one scared expression like a lifelike mannequin.
Ryan turned around to look at his surroundings. Surely there must be more to this world than just the football field. Behind him appeared a school. Ryan did not recognize this school, but it too felt familiar.
"Is this where you go to school?" He asked the boy.
He turned around to look back at the boy, but he was no longer there. In his place was the Monster. Its grotesque, hunched over physique sat in the driver's seat of Ryan's old Sonata. Its pale face turned to Ryan and stared at him with Its red, veiny eyes. Its inhuman appearance was something that could only come from the worst nightmares. Not even hell could conjure up something like It.
Realizing this must be a dream, Ryan confronted the Monster. "Where's the boy?"
"I ate him." The Monster opened up Its mouth to reveal the bits and pieces of human flesh dangling off Its razor sharp, blood stained canines. "See? There's chunks of a little boy in my teeth."
The sight made Ryan's power of realization less strong. But he continued, "Why would you eat him?"
"Why do you pick on the other boys?" Asked the Monster.
"I don't pick on anyone. I don't know what you're talking about."
The Monster stared at Ryan for a beat. As soon as Its eyes locked on Ryan's, Ryan felt a sharp pain in his bad arm. As if It could sense Ryan's pain, the Monster smiled. Its thin lips stretched to an inhuman length, raising Its cheeks outwards.
"You really don't want to know, do you?"
Ryan felt like he could cry, but no tears manifested. Bravely, he said, "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You will." The Monster started the car. "My name is Brackins. I'll see you in my office later."
The car drove off, revealing three wolves behind it. Their friendly demeanors were evident by their wagging tails. Their familiarity was more clear to Ryan, but their numbers were off.
"Aren't there only two of you?" Ryan questioned.
The third wolf frowned humanly. "You don't want me to be here?"
Ryan recognized the wolf's voice. It belonged to Luke.
"I don't - I don't really know what's going on." Ryan admitted.
"But you should," the first wolf said. It's voice sounded like Ryan's. "You know about this more than anyone else."
Something about the conversation made Ryan angry. "I just want to leave!"
The third wolf turned away to go, revealing bloody holes in its side, one in its leg, one its side, and one on the side of its head. Though Ryan had never seen a gunshot wound, he felt certain that the holes on the wolf were.
As Ryan watched the third wolf exit into the black void beyond, he felt sympathetic and sad. "Is he going to be okay?"
He turned to the other wolves, but they were no longer there.
Ryan gazed up at the gray and cloudy sky which appeared to be the only thing consistent in this dark world. Then thunder rumbled. It too was going to change.
"What's with the weather?"
"It's dead," a voice replied.
Ryan looked to where the voice came. Behind him stood Frank in his bloodied and beaten state. Ryan forgot how badly he had hurt Frank, but the reminder was there now as clear as day. Frank's eyes were so swollen he could barely see out of them. His face was a bruised pulp with several wounds so deep Ryan could see bone.
"Yes," Frank continued. "This is what you did to me."
At first, Ryan believed the sight to be an exaggeration of what he had done to Frank. But the brutality of Ryan's deeds were extreme and indeed the truth.
"What do you mean it's dead?" Ryan asked.
"It's dead, Ryan. Just like me."
Ryan closed his eyes, unwilling to let this world take him further into Hell.
When Ryan opened his eyes, he woke from the dream. The pain in his arm was still there. He felt tired, but thoughts were already buzzing around in his head. A want to understand what he had just seen was battling a will to forget it.
My name is Brackins...
Ryan felt like he heard the name before, but he could not remember when and where or who the name belonged to. A hesitancy to dwell on the thought any longer told him, It's not worth thinking about.Just get ready for school.
The alarm clock showed the time was 6:59 AM. He had one more minute before it was going to ring. Ryan rolled over to the other side of his bed where his second dresser was. He opened up the top drawer and grabbed the Percocet bottle he kept next to his socks. The pain in his arm would stop with one pill, but today he was taking two.
I just need to stop thinking about it.
The digital numbers on the clock went from 6:59 AM to 7:00 AM and the alarm went off.
