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| Tales of the Pig #2 The Building by Larry Brasington |
Short Story #8
I thought after my run in with the post-mortem trailer owners I decidedin
a moment of clairvoyance to change my scenery. Little did I know I was going
from the frying pan into the fire. Commercial sounded so solid and safe. I
mean, well I getting ahead of myself.
A request came in form the owner of an older downtown building tobe
review for its value. So I armed myself with clipboard, tape, hat andwriting
utensil and set out on foot to the building. As I approached the threestory
concert structure I was struck by two things: one it was big and twothere
were absolutely no windows. Now who would build an office complex without
windows? The only entity I could think of was the prison system, but I saw no
guards.
Arriving on time I knocked on the front door, though at the time Ipassed
off it being lock as just security. After a brief wait a large man whoin another
life might have been an extra on the Duke's of Hazzard came to the door. On
the front of his utility shirt it said Bubba. Now why didn't that surprise me.
“You the fella from the appraiser's office,” Bubba asked.
“Yes, sir. I'm Ted Simms with the Property Appraisers office. Are you
Karl?”
“Yea, but everybody just calls me Bubba. Ready to go through the
building?” I nodded. “Come on in then. You want to start at the top or the
bottom?”
Not quite sure where Bubba was trying to lead me I asked, “Is there a
basement?”
“Yes, sir not many people go down there but there is. Most of the
equipment is upstairs.”
My mind raced equipment, this is an office building. “Bubba why don't
you show me the equipment first and the basement last.” Famous last words.
Bubba nodded his head and started ambling down a poorly lit hall. The
hall was painted a faded army green. It remind me of those days thirty years
ago when I had been crammed in a room with about fifty or more of my
closest friends naked for the selective service physical. I short the draft.
Memories of the event tried to surface but I fought them. In our trek to the
single elevator in this vast warren of halls I noticed the bathrooms were allbuilt
up about six inches off the floor.
“Bubba why are the bathrooms up off the floor?” I asked.
“Oh, they had to add plumbing later.”
I took out my pen and wrote that down. This fact seemed important at
the time, why had they built a building without bathrooms? Didn't make sense.
Finally, we stopped at a brass grill recessed in the wall. I could seethe flat
bed of the elevator behind it. How old was this place? I was beginning to have
serious doubts, but Bubba didn't hesitate he simply reached over and pulled
the grate aside, stepped on and turned to me. Not wanting to show any fear
on my part I stepped on the platform as my guidepushed a large number
three button. Soundlessly the our elevator began to rise. As it did I looked
around for the state certification which comes on every elevator I'd ever seen.
Nothing. My eyes continued to scan andfinally I saw a plate. Wilson and
Wilson Elevator Company, Eire, New York, 1897. What 1897?
“Here we are which end you want to start with?” Bubba asked pulling
back the gate.
“South,” I replied and he set off in that direction.
As we passed several doors I could see that the name plates had been
removed for only
the faint image of them remained. “Bubba what's in these rooms?”
He stopped and turned around. The big smile on his face remindedme of
a crocodile, I wasn't reassured. “Just offices, you want to see them too?” I
nodded. “Okay,” came his response.
By now we had walked the hundred feetor so to the end and Bubba
taking out a formidable wad of keys started sorting through them. Content
that he had found the right one, he insertedthe key and turned the lock. I was
not surprised when the lock click open.
Following Bubba we entered a huge dark room. He threw the switch and
slowly the ceiling lights began coming on in a slow march back to thewall. I
was not prepare for what I saw. Rows upon rows of work benches stretched
before me. Each station had a set of tools with one of those
mirrors you could pull down to do work like modelers do. I had
expectedlayers of dust, but the room was spec and span. This was no office,
butlight manufacturing of some kind. I wrote that down.
“Bubba, you know what they made in here?” I asked walking over to the
nearest bench.
“Something for the war.”
Which war I wondered? Seeing my discomfort Bubba decided to put me
out of my misery. “The Second one, against Germany.”
His comment helped but I was at a lost still. Judging from the lathes and
tools my best guess was a weapon of some kind. The tools remindedme of a
metal worker. At the end of the room were some doors and I had a feeling
something was behind them so I set off in there direction with
Bubba in tow. When I reach the first door I reached over and pulled. With just
a slight protest the door came open and revealed a cabinetwith straps
hanging from a board. I studied the closet carefully. From theplacement of the
straps I could image a large man shaped device hangingin the closet. The
thought a man might have been strapped in at the time didn't cross my mind.
There were five of these closets with the compartments. Each one identical
and matched the end of a row of work benches. Having seen allthat there was
to see in this room I turned to my guide and said, “Okay
Bubba I think we can go to the next room.”
Across the hall the room was a repeat of the previous one. As werethe
next two, I was beginning to glaze over and felt myself longing for thecounty
side, mobile homes, farms and houses despite my recent episode with the
undead.
At the very end of the floor were some offices, finally. Though I don't
think they had been used since Truman was president. By the shape of
thedesk and the old style black phone I felt sure this was war time furniture.
The poster behind one showed a picture of Uncle Sam holding his finger to his
lips with the caption Loose Lips Cost Lives. Yes, definitely vintage World War
Two. For a moment I thought of asking Bubba if I could have theposter, but
discard the idea. Finished we turned to leave.
“Second floor?” Bubbba asked. I waved him on.
Our ride down was uneventful and I studied our elevator one more time.
Nothing new jumped out at me and I left the gate to the second floor content I
had found all there was to about the elevator. The second floor was a series
of offices, empty now. Again the decor, pictures all pointed to a beehive of
activity in 1943. Most desk still had the old underwood typewriters and pencils
on the desk. One room was covered with the old phone switch boards, I had
only seen these in old black and white movies. Briefly, counting the desks it
dawn on me that over a hundred working souls
had inhabited this place at one time, but now it was empty. Already guessing I
knew the answer I asked Bubba the obvious, “Do you know the last time this
space was used for an office?”
He shook his head. “No, but maybe one of them engineers down on the
first does.”
Engineers? You mean there are people still working here? I was
fascinated by this tidbit of information and eager to move on. There was
something disquieting about our journey so far. A vale of mystery that hung
over me like a cloud of doubt, I was missing something, something important,
but what?
Again taking the elevator we returned to the first floor where our
adventure started. As we stepped into the hall my guide's two-way
radioskawked. “Carl I need your assistance,” a female voice said.
“Yes, ma'am,” Carl replied. Then turning to me said, “Will you be allright
by yourself for a moment or two?” I nodded yes and with that Carl took off in
the direction of the far end leaving me there alone. Not wishing to wait any
longer than necessary I started in the other direction. As I neared the end I
heard voices, people talking. Above thedoor was an old black and white sign
that read R and D. Without waiting Iopened the door, but what greeted me
was unexpected. The room was fullof people, men and women dressed in
traditional suits. Where these the engineers? A slim young blond with her hair
made up like Betty Grebel looked up,
“May I help you sir.”
Showing my badge I smiled. “Yes, my name is Ted Simms and I work
with the property appraiser's office. I would like to walk through the room if
possibe.” She smiled and to my surprise picked up a black phone and dialed.
“Mr. Brandt, there is a Mr. Simms from the Property Appraiser's office
here. No, I haven't seen Carl. Yes, I'll ask him to wait. Mr. Simms will you
please wait for Mr. Brandt to come up? There's a chair right behind you.”
I sat down in the iron chair, hadn't seen anything like this sense I was
walking through the Camp Blanding Museum. A tall man dressed in a dark
gray suit approached. He looked just like a young Sam Spade.
“Mr. Simms, I'm Jake Brandt what can I do for you.”
“I'm from the Property Appraiser's office Mr. Brandt, I have come to
inspect the building for the tax role.”
“Hum, as you can see Mr. Simms we are quite busy here. Could you
come back at another time?”
At this point I was confused. It was obvious whoever had asked for a
review had not told Mr. Vrandt, but had told Carl. It didn't make sense. I tried
one last time, “Mr. Brandt I won't get into anyone's way. I simply want to do a
walk through and check the building.
Motioning behind him Mr. Brandt turned back to look at me. “I'm afraid
Mr. Simms I'll have to ask you to leave.” As he said this two youngmen
walked up behind him, they had security hardass written all over them. Now I
am not one to stay were I was unwanted nor one to have a deathwish. These
two seemed quite capable of lifting me and depositing meback into the hall.
Defeated I agreed and retraced my steps. Outside in the quiet something that
had been nagging me popped into my head. They were using typewriters, old
fashion black typewriters. Nobody uses typewriters anymore especially old
underwoods. What was going on?
“Mr.Simms?” A panic stricken Karl asked. “Where have you been, I have
been looking for you?”
“I was in the room at the end of the hall with the engineers and office
staff.”
A pen could have dropped, Bubba cocked his head to one side and stared at
me for a good longtime. “Mister Simms that room is empty.”
Incruglious I responded, “No it isn't.” I was ready to fight if need be
though I was giving up a good fifty pounds.
“No sir you're mistaken I'll show you.” Silently the pair of us retraced my
steps and Bubba opened the door. To my utter disbelief it was dark, full of
empty tables and no people. Opened mouth I walked in the room, no one was
there. It was abandoned. Had I been dreaming?
“No sir this room has been empty sense the war.” Bubba said.
“If you want to meet the engineers I'll walk you down to the other end.”
At this point I didn't know what I wanted so I nodded yes.
As we approached the room I could hear voices and when my
guideopened the door I was greeted by ten people sitting at their desk
workingon a project. It was a mixed group of older man and women with a
few 20year olds thrown in. Our appearance seemed to disturb them, but after
seeing my guide they quickly forgot us and continued. I walked through the
room and dutifully recorded the various elements. Finished Bubba led me
back outside.
“Well, Mr. Simms I reckin you want to see the basement too.”
There was something in the way he said it that sent alarms off in my
head. Yet, in for a penny, I had to finish this task. “Yes, Karl please led on.” I
said more bravely than I felt.
“Then we'll have to take the stairs. The elevator don't go there.”
I nodded for him to continue.
As we descended I began smelling a heavy musty oder and I took note
of the discoloration on the walls. “Karl does the basement flood?”
“Yes, sir. Everytime it rains good the ground water gets in here and
messes up things.”
I took note he had not said equipment, but things. What kind of things
was he referring too. When we reached the bottom an iron double door with a
fist sized padlock bared our progress. Fumbling through his pound of keys
Karl took out one and applied it to the lock opening it. With a great effort he
pulled back one side.
It was stygian black inside. Not a single light on. Karl began fumbling
with what I hoped was a light switch to the left. The hall light only penetrated
a few feet into the darkness revealing a large iron box. Stenciled on the side
in white letters was US ARMY, SPECIAL WEAPON, 1943. What kind of
special weapon would be in an eight by four foot box? Behind me I heard
Karl, “You got a light?”
Flipping my cell phone open I replied, “Will this help any?”
“Some bring it over here,” Karl said.
Easing over I pointed the small light over his shoulder and was rewarded
with seeing a fist size toggle switch. How old was this place? Guided now by
the light he threw the ancient switch and we were rewarded with a humming
sound. I waited a good five-seconds before responding.
“So where's the light?”
“Don't know. Water must have shorted it out again.” Karl said turning.
I followed him a short ways along the wall before I asked. “Where are
we going?”
“To find the breaker.”
Taking a quick glance over my shoulder I could barely make out the hall
light and that was only after a few steps. “Say Karl what's in the boxes.”
“I don't know? Some experiment probably.”
I was about to ask him what kind of experiment when we both heard a
groan, a deep bass
of a groan. The hair on the back of my neck rose and I dropped my cell
phone. Instinctively, I bent over to pick it up just as a rush of wind pass over
my head and I heard Karl scream. Lifting my phone I saw a set of fur covered
feet behind Karl who was screaming in a continuous howl.
I stood and swung my clipboard at the back of a tower of fur beforeme.
When I connected it seemed like a swat that might of killed a knat, but Imust
have had more on it than I thought. As whatever it was turned to me Isaw a
pair of red eyes staring down. Red eyes, what was this thing. BeforeI could
speculate a bent over Karl rushed pass me like a freight train. Notwanting to
be left out I spun in place and took off after him.
I could clear hear groaning from behind me still as Karl and I raced like
thoroughbreds for the hall light. I was two steps from safety when aclawed
hand planted itself on my shoulder and I fell like a ton of bricks onthe floor
scattering everything I was carrying: my notes, my clip board, property cards,
my favorite pen, everything. I thought I was a goner and silently started to
pray, but found a heavy weight pass over me back driving me face down into
the concert floor which I made a mental note of. When the weight passed I
realize I wasn't dead and scrambled to me feet. I had ten feet to day light and
ran with all that I had.
Whatever it was must have caught Karl for I saw his feet dangling in
midair. “Karl,” I screamed and tried to bullrush our assailant. I hit the thinghard
but found myself give rather than it. Somehow I made the hall and could see a
large dog like creature attempting to tear Karl's throat out.
In one last attempt at saving Karl I swung my fist at its canine head.
Pain shot up my arm as I connected a solid punch and the thing dropped
ableeding Karl. With my last ounce of courage I grabbed Karl and pulled us
both out into the hall. Our assailant bellowed and I slammed the door shut as
Karl fitted the lock in place. As we both gasped for breath the creature
pounded the door, butwhoever had built that door had done their job well. Karl
was hurt and I could see he needed help. I tried dialing 911 with my phone but
got nosignal. Karl was too heavy for me to carry so Isaid, “I can't get a dial
tone. I'll have to go upstairs Karl can you hang on for
a minute?”
He nodded holding his neck. His shirt was covered in blood, it looked like
a lot to me and I was panic stricken about his injury. Taking two steps at
atime I raced toward the first floor and out into the hall bumping into a
middleaged woman in the process.
“Woo what's the rush?” She asked.
“I need to call 911. Karl's been hurt.”
The woman looked at me like I was nuts.
“Slow down you said Karl.”
“Yes, Karl, Bubba he needs help.” I said dialing.
Calmly she took the phone from my hand and glared at me. “I don't
know who you are but Karl's been dead for two years. Now explain yourself?”
a moment of clairvoyance to change my scenery. Little did I know I was going
from the frying pan into the fire. Commercial sounded so solid and safe. I
mean, well I getting ahead of myself.
A request came in form the owner of an older downtown building tobe
review for its value. So I armed myself with clipboard, tape, hat andwriting
utensil and set out on foot to the building. As I approached the threestory
concert structure I was struck by two things: one it was big and twothere
were absolutely no windows. Now who would build an office complex without
windows? The only entity I could think of was the prison system, but I saw no
guards.
Arriving on time I knocked on the front door, though at the time Ipassed
off it being lock as just security. After a brief wait a large man whoin another
life might have been an extra on the Duke's of Hazzard came to the door. On
the front of his utility shirt it said Bubba. Now why didn't that surprise me.
“You the fella from the appraiser's office,” Bubba asked.
“Yes, sir. I'm Ted Simms with the Property Appraisers office. Are you
Karl?”
“Yea, but everybody just calls me Bubba. Ready to go through the
building?” I nodded. “Come on in then. You want to start at the top or the
bottom?”
Not quite sure where Bubba was trying to lead me I asked, “Is there a
basement?”
“Yes, sir not many people go down there but there is. Most of the
equipment is upstairs.”
My mind raced equipment, this is an office building. “Bubba why don't
you show me the equipment first and the basement last.” Famous last words.
Bubba nodded his head and started ambling down a poorly lit hall. The
hall was painted a faded army green. It remind me of those days thirty years
ago when I had been crammed in a room with about fifty or more of my
closest friends naked for the selective service physical. I short the draft.
Memories of the event tried to surface but I fought them. In our trek to the
single elevator in this vast warren of halls I noticed the bathrooms were allbuilt
up about six inches off the floor.
“Bubba why are the bathrooms up off the floor?” I asked.
“Oh, they had to add plumbing later.”
I took out my pen and wrote that down. This fact seemed important at
the time, why had they built a building without bathrooms? Didn't make sense.
Finally, we stopped at a brass grill recessed in the wall. I could seethe flat
bed of the elevator behind it. How old was this place? I was beginning to have
serious doubts, but Bubba didn't hesitate he simply reached over and pulled
the grate aside, stepped on and turned to me. Not wanting to show any fear
on my part I stepped on the platform as my guidepushed a large number
three button. Soundlessly the our elevator began to rise. As it did I looked
around for the state certification which comes on every elevator I'd ever seen.
Nothing. My eyes continued to scan andfinally I saw a plate. Wilson and
Wilson Elevator Company, Eire, New York, 1897. What 1897?
“Here we are which end you want to start with?” Bubba asked pulling
back the gate.
“South,” I replied and he set off in that direction.
As we passed several doors I could see that the name plates had been
removed for only
the faint image of them remained. “Bubba what's in these rooms?”
He stopped and turned around. The big smile on his face remindedme of
a crocodile, I wasn't reassured. “Just offices, you want to see them too?” I
nodded. “Okay,” came his response.
By now we had walked the hundred feetor so to the end and Bubba
taking out a formidable wad of keys started sorting through them. Content
that he had found the right one, he insertedthe key and turned the lock. I was
not surprised when the lock click open.
Following Bubba we entered a huge dark room. He threw the switch and
slowly the ceiling lights began coming on in a slow march back to thewall. I
was not prepare for what I saw. Rows upon rows of work benches stretched
before me. Each station had a set of tools with one of those
mirrors you could pull down to do work like modelers do. I had
expectedlayers of dust, but the room was spec and span. This was no office,
butlight manufacturing of some kind. I wrote that down.
“Bubba, you know what they made in here?” I asked walking over to the
nearest bench.
“Something for the war.”
Which war I wondered? Seeing my discomfort Bubba decided to put me
out of my misery. “The Second one, against Germany.”
His comment helped but I was at a lost still. Judging from the lathes and
tools my best guess was a weapon of some kind. The tools remindedme of a
metal worker. At the end of the room were some doors and I had a feeling
something was behind them so I set off in there direction with
Bubba in tow. When I reach the first door I reached over and pulled. With just
a slight protest the door came open and revealed a cabinetwith straps
hanging from a board. I studied the closet carefully. From theplacement of the
straps I could image a large man shaped device hangingin the closet. The
thought a man might have been strapped in at the time didn't cross my mind.
There were five of these closets with the compartments. Each one identical
and matched the end of a row of work benches. Having seen allthat there was
to see in this room I turned to my guide and said, “Okay
Bubba I think we can go to the next room.”
Across the hall the room was a repeat of the previous one. As werethe
next two, I was beginning to glaze over and felt myself longing for thecounty
side, mobile homes, farms and houses despite my recent episode with the
undead.
At the very end of the floor were some offices, finally. Though I don't
think they had been used since Truman was president. By the shape of
thedesk and the old style black phone I felt sure this was war time furniture.
The poster behind one showed a picture of Uncle Sam holding his finger to his
lips with the caption Loose Lips Cost Lives. Yes, definitely vintage World War
Two. For a moment I thought of asking Bubba if I could have theposter, but
discard the idea. Finished we turned to leave.
“Second floor?” Bubbba asked. I waved him on.
Our ride down was uneventful and I studied our elevator one more time.
Nothing new jumped out at me and I left the gate to the second floor content I
had found all there was to about the elevator. The second floor was a series
of offices, empty now. Again the decor, pictures all pointed to a beehive of
activity in 1943. Most desk still had the old underwood typewriters and pencils
on the desk. One room was covered with the old phone switch boards, I had
only seen these in old black and white movies. Briefly, counting the desks it
dawn on me that over a hundred working souls
had inhabited this place at one time, but now it was empty. Already guessing I
knew the answer I asked Bubba the obvious, “Do you know the last time this
space was used for an office?”
He shook his head. “No, but maybe one of them engineers down on the
first does.”
Engineers? You mean there are people still working here? I was
fascinated by this tidbit of information and eager to move on. There was
something disquieting about our journey so far. A vale of mystery that hung
over me like a cloud of doubt, I was missing something, something important,
but what?
Again taking the elevator we returned to the first floor where our
adventure started. As we stepped into the hall my guide's two-way
radioskawked. “Carl I need your assistance,” a female voice said.
“Yes, ma'am,” Carl replied. Then turning to me said, “Will you be allright
by yourself for a moment or two?” I nodded yes and with that Carl took off in
the direction of the far end leaving me there alone. Not wishing to wait any
longer than necessary I started in the other direction. As I neared the end I
heard voices, people talking. Above thedoor was an old black and white sign
that read R and D. Without waiting Iopened the door, but what greeted me
was unexpected. The room was fullof people, men and women dressed in
traditional suits. Where these the engineers? A slim young blond with her hair
made up like Betty Grebel looked up,
“May I help you sir.”
Showing my badge I smiled. “Yes, my name is Ted Simms and I work
with the property appraiser's office. I would like to walk through the room if
possibe.” She smiled and to my surprise picked up a black phone and dialed.
“Mr. Brandt, there is a Mr. Simms from the Property Appraiser's office
here. No, I haven't seen Carl. Yes, I'll ask him to wait. Mr. Simms will you
please wait for Mr. Brandt to come up? There's a chair right behind you.”
I sat down in the iron chair, hadn't seen anything like this sense I was
walking through the Camp Blanding Museum. A tall man dressed in a dark
gray suit approached. He looked just like a young Sam Spade.
“Mr. Simms, I'm Jake Brandt what can I do for you.”
“I'm from the Property Appraiser's office Mr. Brandt, I have come to
inspect the building for the tax role.”
“Hum, as you can see Mr. Simms we are quite busy here. Could you
come back at another time?”
At this point I was confused. It was obvious whoever had asked for a
review had not told Mr. Vrandt, but had told Carl. It didn't make sense. I tried
one last time, “Mr. Brandt I won't get into anyone's way. I simply want to do a
walk through and check the building.
Motioning behind him Mr. Brandt turned back to look at me. “I'm afraid
Mr. Simms I'll have to ask you to leave.” As he said this two youngmen
walked up behind him, they had security hardass written all over them. Now I
am not one to stay were I was unwanted nor one to have a deathwish. These
two seemed quite capable of lifting me and depositing meback into the hall.
Defeated I agreed and retraced my steps. Outside in the quiet something that
had been nagging me popped into my head. They were using typewriters, old
fashion black typewriters. Nobody uses typewriters anymore especially old
underwoods. What was going on?
“Mr.Simms?” A panic stricken Karl asked. “Where have you been, I have
been looking for you?”
“I was in the room at the end of the hall with the engineers and office
staff.”
A pen could have dropped, Bubba cocked his head to one side and stared at
me for a good longtime. “Mister Simms that room is empty.”
Incruglious I responded, “No it isn't.” I was ready to fight if need be
though I was giving up a good fifty pounds.
“No sir you're mistaken I'll show you.” Silently the pair of us retraced my
steps and Bubba opened the door. To my utter disbelief it was dark, full of
empty tables and no people. Opened mouth I walked in the room, no one was
there. It was abandoned. Had I been dreaming?
“No sir this room has been empty sense the war.” Bubba said.
“If you want to meet the engineers I'll walk you down to the other end.”
At this point I didn't know what I wanted so I nodded yes.
As we approached the room I could hear voices and when my
guideopened the door I was greeted by ten people sitting at their desk
workingon a project. It was a mixed group of older man and women with a
few 20year olds thrown in. Our appearance seemed to disturb them, but after
seeing my guide they quickly forgot us and continued. I walked through the
room and dutifully recorded the various elements. Finished Bubba led me
back outside.
“Well, Mr. Simms I reckin you want to see the basement too.”
There was something in the way he said it that sent alarms off in my
head. Yet, in for a penny, I had to finish this task. “Yes, Karl please led on.” I
said more bravely than I felt.
“Then we'll have to take the stairs. The elevator don't go there.”
I nodded for him to continue.
As we descended I began smelling a heavy musty oder and I took note
of the discoloration on the walls. “Karl does the basement flood?”
“Yes, sir. Everytime it rains good the ground water gets in here and
messes up things.”
I took note he had not said equipment, but things. What kind of things
was he referring too. When we reached the bottom an iron double door with a
fist sized padlock bared our progress. Fumbling through his pound of keys
Karl took out one and applied it to the lock opening it. With a great effort he
pulled back one side.
It was stygian black inside. Not a single light on. Karl began fumbling
with what I hoped was a light switch to the left. The hall light only penetrated
a few feet into the darkness revealing a large iron box. Stenciled on the side
in white letters was US ARMY, SPECIAL WEAPON, 1943. What kind of
special weapon would be in an eight by four foot box? Behind me I heard
Karl, “You got a light?”
Flipping my cell phone open I replied, “Will this help any?”
“Some bring it over here,” Karl said.
Easing over I pointed the small light over his shoulder and was rewarded
with seeing a fist size toggle switch. How old was this place? Guided now by
the light he threw the ancient switch and we were rewarded with a humming
sound. I waited a good five-seconds before responding.
“So where's the light?”
“Don't know. Water must have shorted it out again.” Karl said turning.
I followed him a short ways along the wall before I asked. “Where are
we going?”
“To find the breaker.”
Taking a quick glance over my shoulder I could barely make out the hall
light and that was only after a few steps. “Say Karl what's in the boxes.”
“I don't know? Some experiment probably.”
I was about to ask him what kind of experiment when we both heard a
groan, a deep bass
of a groan. The hair on the back of my neck rose and I dropped my cell
phone. Instinctively, I bent over to pick it up just as a rush of wind pass over
my head and I heard Karl scream. Lifting my phone I saw a set of fur covered
feet behind Karl who was screaming in a continuous howl.
I stood and swung my clipboard at the back of a tower of fur beforeme.
When I connected it seemed like a swat that might of killed a knat, but Imust
have had more on it than I thought. As whatever it was turned to me Isaw a
pair of red eyes staring down. Red eyes, what was this thing. BeforeI could
speculate a bent over Karl rushed pass me like a freight train. Notwanting to
be left out I spun in place and took off after him.
I could clear hear groaning from behind me still as Karl and I raced like
thoroughbreds for the hall light. I was two steps from safety when aclawed
hand planted itself on my shoulder and I fell like a ton of bricks onthe floor
scattering everything I was carrying: my notes, my clip board, property cards,
my favorite pen, everything. I thought I was a goner and silently started to
pray, but found a heavy weight pass over me back driving me face down into
the concert floor which I made a mental note of. When the weight passed I
realize I wasn't dead and scrambled to me feet. I had ten feet to day light and
ran with all that I had.
Whatever it was must have caught Karl for I saw his feet dangling in
midair. “Karl,” I screamed and tried to bullrush our assailant. I hit the thinghard
but found myself give rather than it. Somehow I made the hall and could see a
large dog like creature attempting to tear Karl's throat out.
In one last attempt at saving Karl I swung my fist at its canine head.
Pain shot up my arm as I connected a solid punch and the thing dropped
ableeding Karl. With my last ounce of courage I grabbed Karl and pulled us
both out into the hall. Our assailant bellowed and I slammed the door shut as
Karl fitted the lock in place. As we both gasped for breath the creature
pounded the door, butwhoever had built that door had done their job well. Karl
was hurt and I could see he needed help. I tried dialing 911 with my phone but
got nosignal. Karl was too heavy for me to carry so Isaid, “I can't get a dial
tone. I'll have to go upstairs Karl can you hang on for
a minute?”
He nodded holding his neck. His shirt was covered in blood, it looked like
a lot to me and I was panic stricken about his injury. Taking two steps at
atime I raced toward the first floor and out into the hall bumping into a
middleaged woman in the process.
“Woo what's the rush?” She asked.
“I need to call 911. Karl's been hurt.”
The woman looked at me like I was nuts.
“Slow down you said Karl.”
“Yes, Karl, Bubba he needs help.” I said dialing.
Calmly she took the phone from my hand and glared at me. “I don't
know who you are but Karl's been dead for two years. Now explain yourself?”