Friday, October 31, 2014

Uncle Al's Halloween Hoedown Day Thirty-One: PRECIOUS MACHINE

Precious Machine

by

Al Bruno III


A rusted electric fence surrounds the walled facility and the facility itself is a series of squat single story buildings connected by hallways. Every window is barred, every door is bolted, every surface is gray or blue. In this way the Kaydeross Asylum keeps the murderous nightmares of its prisoners tucked away from the world of ordinary madness.

Orderlies move through the hallways and buildings like ants, jaded boredom has rendered them faceless and emotionless. They go through their routines but have long ago stopped seeing their charges as human beings. The physicians and psychiatrists assigned to this place are no better, any thoughts of rehabilitating their patients have long been ground away by the never-ending crush of State-required paperwork.

Only Dr. Annabelle Masters truly cared about what went on here. Despite being the director of the facility she still made it a point to oversee the progress of the women remanded to the Kaydeross Asylum. There is a framed photograph she kept on the wall of her office, it shows her standing within the center of a crowd of women wearing faded hospital gowns and slippers; she is smiling despite the fact she is standing with a group of convicted murderers.

As I went through Dr. Masters's office my gaze returned to the picture again and again. There was something about the patients that haunted me- despite their smiling faces their eyes seemed to be screaming.

I was just a temporary administrator sent in to replace Dr. Masters while the investigation into her disappearance moved forward. It was my job to restore some semblance of order to the facility but I already knew it would be no easy task.

A tall bookcase occupied one side of the room, some of the texts shelved there were the standards of our profession but others had fallen out of print after being dismissed as bald faced quackery.

After this I turned my attention to her desk. It was ugly, gray and metallic. It reminded me of the sort of desk a schoolteacher might have. I searched through the drawer and found one had been locked. It took some effort but I was able to break the lock and found seven files that were thick with handwritten notes and EEG readouts. 

Dr. Masters's notes were written on cheap onionskin paper, her handwriting script was cramped and strange, reading it was hard going. There was one folder for each of the Kaydeross Asylum's more infamous charges. She had been interviewing and treating these murderesses secretly. 

No it was more than that, she had been experimenting on them.

Even now I can recall some of her notes almost perfectly-

...the Precious Machine continues to perform better than expected on Leslie Knapp but she resists treatment. She claws at the air and calls the names of her children. The modified styluses titter and scratch at the paper, there is something beautiful about the patterns they make. When I playback the audio tapes it almost sounds like an animal is skittering in the background like a rat gone wild with the urge to gnaw...

A search of Dr. Masters's office revealed no audio tapes or electroencephalogram, and her notes were maddeningly vague as to what exactly she was trying to accomplish.

Exhaustion, confusion and the murky February afternoon conspired to make me drowsy. I sat down in Dr. Masters' leather-backed chair and leaned back. I meant only to rest my eyes but I was soon asleep.

The dream that came was at first very literal, I was sitting in the office with the cryptic files spread out before me. There was a hollow rapping at the door and I called for the visitor to enter not looking up from my work. Once the visitor stood on the opposite side of the desk I became gripped with a childlike terror. I did not want to look up but my head moved of its own volition and I found myself staring at a figure from my long-abandoned faith. I knew that frail, beatific gaze and those stigmatic hands. But the crown of thorns he wore was metallic and it sparked. My breath caught in my throat as the figure opened his mouth to speak but all that came out was a faint scraping sound like a record that had reached the end of its song.

I awoke then, choking and gasping like a nearly drowned man, but the scratching sound continued. Once the dream had faded away and I was calm, I realized where the strange noise was coming from.

Initially the orderlies balked at my request insisting that the moving of furniture was a job for maintenance but I insisted. Once the heavy mahogany bookcase had been moved a doorway was revealed.

We forced the door open and found what must have once been a storage closet. The so-called 'Precious Machine' was there and it was, as I had thought, a strangely modified EEG machine. A tangle of wires led to a web of sensors that resembled the crown I had seen in my dreams. The EEG had long run out of paper and the styluses scraped and scratched on the bare rollers.

And beneath that crown of sensors was a desiccated figure, she had only been missing for a little over a week but the flesh had an almost mummified look to it. We could only identify the body because of the name badge clipped to the lab coat, and by the eyes, the perfectly preserved eyes that stared back at us.

Oh how Dr. Masters's eyes screamed.

Wednesday, October 29, 2014

Uncle Al's Halloween Hoedown Day Twenty-Nine: THE MAN THAT ATE NEWBORNS

The Man That Ate Newborns
by
Al Bruno III

Don't squirm so much my wee one. Don’t struggle. Let me hold you close while I work up my nerve. Only a day old and you're fighting to live, well so am I. Isn't that what we all want in the end? Life, a warm place to sleep and a full belly. Well, that's what you've got and what do I have? Nothing I'm just a middle aged man, used up and waiting to die.

Just like you, not that you realize what's coming next of course.
Then again maybe you do understand, you may be blind and confused but maybe you do know somehow. Is that why you keep trying to get free?

This is all because of Eve. We had known each other since college. She was already halfway towards becoming a lawyer and I was a well respected graduate student. You should have seen her. She was so damn beautiful with creamy skin- just like yours. I first saw her in the college library, I was so smitten that I followed her home. Just to see if she was married or living with a boyfriend or something like that. I spent the next few days tracking her, learning whatever I could and once I was sure I knew enough to pass for her soulmate I made my move.
I played my cards just right and won her heart. It was a whirlwind romance, the kind of thing you'll never know my wee one. Maybe that's just as well, maybe if you could you'd thank me for sparing you the heartbreak.

Even now I don't know what went wrong. Was I too agreeable? Too clingy? It doesn't matter. She found someone else. The breakup was an ugly thing, uglier than you my wee one.

She tried to be gentle, she told me we could still be friends. I was so angry, I said terrible things but in the end I took her up on the offer of friendship and hoped she might come to her senses.

I'll never understand women. They're called the fairer sex but everything they do is unfair. How is it time and time again they're drawn to the wrong men? Why couldn't she see that her new boyfriend was all wrong for her? And why for God's sake did she marry him.

Now don't get me wrong, I tried to move on. There were other towns, other girls and no matter how much I learned about them before I made my move I never got as far as I had with Eve.

Was that why I kept coming back to my home town? Was that why I stayed her friend even though the sight of that ring on her finger left my skull pounding with rage?

Calm down now my wee one. I might drop you if you keep struggling so. Is that what you want?

I stayed her friend, I prayed for her to divorce but then it got worse. They were tears of joy in her eyes when she told me she was pregnant. I smiled at the news but in the back of my mind I was calling her a bitch. She never cried for me but she had a fountain of tears for a baby that wasn't even born yet. A baby that at this point was just a lump of cells no better than a tumor.

Some say life begins at conception but I don’t think it begins until you have your first real thought. Until then your just a thing that eats and crawls mindlessly.

It was during her final trimester that I decided something radical needed to be done. I would steal her little baby and I would keep it away until she promised to leave her husband and love me forever.

We would raise the child together. Even though it was another man's I would raise it as my own.

Thanks to things like email and her husband's Facebook page I knew when Eve started to go into labor. I waited about twenty-four hours, and then made my move.

As always I had done my homework, I knew the hospital's routine. I went at night, wearing stolen scrubs and an official-looking ID badge.

I made my way to the nursery convinced that no suspicious eyes would turn my way. I suppose love blinded me in that respect. I barely had the baby in my arms before someone raised an alarm. Escape wasn't easy but I managed to get out of the building. Then I found myself in the middle of a car chase. I knew I could evade the police if I made it to the state park and drove with my headlights off.

The crash was a directionless blur, I thought I was running parallel to the ravine but I ended up careening right into it.

Now here I am, pinned in my car with broken bones poking through the flesh of my legs. I had dared everything and I came away empty handed. Doubtlessly Eve and her husband are cooing over their baby and cursing me for what I had tried to do.

I'm not sure why no one has found me yet, I mean they must be looking but it's been two days and I'm still waiting alone.

Well, I was waiting alone until you came along. The flies must have laid you while I was drifting in and out of consciousness but now my wounded legs are crawling with maggots.

This isn't cruelty, it's just that I'm so hungry and you’re all I have. I'm going to eat you first and then once I’ve gotten the taste for it your brothers and sisters will be joining you by the handful.

I'm going to live through this, and somehow I'm going to get my Eve back.
Somehow. Somehow I'll do it.

Just don't squirm so much my wee one. Don't struggle.

Tuesday, October 28, 2014

Anthony Vincent of Ten Second Songs is at it again! And this song is a real THRILLER.

From BLOODY DISGUSTING

Uncle Al's Halloween Hoedown Day Twenty-Eight: LIVING DEAD NERD

LIVING DEAD NERD
by
Al Bruno III

I can’t really blame what happened on some kind of horror movie outbreak or evil spell. I just woke up one morning and I was dead.
Dead, totally dead but walking around, no pulse but a head still full of Star Trek trivia. I was 16 years old and it looked like I wasn’t going to be getting any older. So weird. I’m still not sure what I am really. Am I some kind of a zombie or vampire or something? Has this ever happened to anyone else? Even Wikipedia couldn’t tell me, maybe when I’m done here I’ll make an entry.
My complexion had always been pale and my parents never listened to me really so the whole I can’t go to school because I’m only breathing out of habit. excuse didn’t fly so I still had to shamble on out to catch the bus for school.
The ride to Allen Palmer High School was always rough, insults and blunt objects get thrown at me not matter how close I sit to the bus driver. That day was no different, so I guess we can add dead people to the things that metalhead stoners have no respect for.
Sometimes the shit they pulled would make me get angry or even cry but that day none of it bugged me. Of course it made the shop class rejects even madder when I didn’t react to them. Finally a textbook hit me in the back of the head and I turned in my seat to glare at them.
Except I wasn’t really glaring on purpose, I thought I looked surprised because I was trying to figure why in the Hell one of those idiots would have a calculus textbook. Still it shut them up for the rest of the bus ride and they left me alone from then on.
School wasn’t much of anything, I kind of just went through the motions but that’s sophomore year for you isn’t it? It’s like the middle film in the Lord of the Rings trilogy, not good, not bad just kinda killing time until the ending.
I wasn’t sure what my ending was going to be now though, was I going to rot away and fall apart? I didn’t know, I still don’t but it doesn’t bug me much. After you’re dead what’s the worst that could happen?
The next week went on like nothing had happened, it was school, home and then World of Warcraft.
Of course now I didn’t have to worry about bathroom breaks messing up my raids.
Occasionally I would get hungry- not the kind of hungry you know. It was like my bones were aching, like I could feel them going soft. It was a hunger that fish sticks and fries couldn’t touch. Thankfully my neighborhood is full of cats, some of the stupidest cats you’ve ever seen.
And plump too, like those little chickens they serve at weddings.
By the second week of my new ‘life’ things started to change, I smelled a little but it was nothing that my Dad’s Hi Karate couldn’t hide. People started treating me differently, even when I smiled I had this look that weirded people out. I told the gym teacher I wasn’t going to play dodgeball, I was going to the library and he just let me. Amazing!
My skin cleared up but my grades stayed the same. You jocks even stopped calling me ‘Timmy the Tard’ not that I cared anymore. One guy did pick a fight with me, some seven foot tall freshman. He punched me a few times, it didn’t much hurt and for once I hit back. One smack and he was crying on the floor. Didn’t know my own strength. I sure as Hell got called into the principal’s office for that but after he realized I was staring at his carotid artery and licking my lips he cut his speech about responsibility and citizenship short and just suspended me for the a week.
Not that I cared. My Mom hit the roof when she found out, my Dad actually seemed kind of proud of me for once. One of the neighbor’s dogs went missing that night, I felt like celebrating.
Since I was suspended my mom gave me punishment chores to keep me busy while she and Dad were at work. That was ok by me. I liked the physical activity it kept me from just sitting around the house because when you’re dead that’s what you do- just sit around a lot. You don’t get bored, you don’t think, you just are. You kind of let things happen to you.
What was it my Aunt said? Let go and let God.
Not that God was something I worried about much either anymore. I do wonder sometimes if Jesus was just a nerd like me, if he was just someone that kept having to swallow abuse and insults until he just choked on it.
Of course he got cool powers out of the deal. All I got was this thousand yard stare.
And I got laid too.

Seriously. It was the girl next door. Well, across the street.
You don’t have anything to say about that? Well, anyway, she’s this gothy chick named Stephanie but she wants everyone to call her ‘Serpentina’. She doesn’t go to school anymore. They expelled her for spraying the tampon dispenser in the girls’ room with lighter fluid and setting it on fire. I had been taking out the trash and I had just kind of zoned out. I didn’t even notice when it started raining. Stephanie- I mean Serpentina- came over and started talking to me, talking about how much she liked standing in the rain too and how I sure had changed. That never happened before.
She invited me in to talk but the next thing I knew we were making out on her parent’s couch. They were at work too. I was already hard, mostly because I had died with one of those piss erections I guess. She starts taking off her clothes, showing me all the places she’s going to get tattooed and pierced as soon as she’s eighteen.
Girl’s gonna be busy.

Now it didn’t feel like I expected, mostly because I was dead but I got off in other ways. She was so warm, I didn’t realize how cold I was until I had her on top of me. I let her do the driving, she kissed me and moved my hands to wherever she wanted to be touched. Then she guided me into her.
So warm. And since we’re both guys here let me tell you that I was doing the full on zombie groan if you know what I mean. You know what I mean? Serpentina was going crazy too, she kept complimenting me on my staying power. I think we could have still been at it if I hadn’t faked and orgasm and told her I’d call her later.
Bet you thought I was gonna kill her and eat her or something right?
Well are you out of your mind? She’s crazy about me, and she told me she wanted to introduce me to this girlfriend of hers named Umbra. And it was the way she said girlfriend that has me thinking. I may be dead but I’m not stupid.
Of course all that exertion has me tired out and that’s where you come in you big broad shouldered jock you. I knew you couldn’t resist the chance to follow me here to ‘teach me a lesson’ after what I did to that mongoloid brother of yours. The dogs and the cats went neck first but since you pulled down my shorts in gym class 
I’m going to start with your guts.
Scream all you want. No one is gonna hear you.
Man, I always wanted to say that.

Saturday, October 25, 2014

Uncle Al's Halloween Hoedown Day Twenty-Five: KOEHAHA

Koehaha
by
Al Bruno III




Honey, are you sure you we’re not lost?”

No, everything’s all right. I know exactly where we are.”

Summer had brought lush foliage to the mountain and filled the air with the songs of birds. There was a park near the base and it was always busy with campers and hikers especially so on a weekend like this. At the heart of the park was a Ranger's station containing dozens of pamphlets about everything from the park rules, to trail maps, to information on the long extinct Native American tribes that had named the mountain Koehaha.

Daddy, I’m tired.”

And I’m thirsty.”

The Oglesby family had trekked up the slope of the mountain to have a picnic in a spot just as scenic as the brochures had promised. 

The trip back however was taking far longer than expected, two hours longer than expected

Honey, are you sure this is the way to the campsite?”

Yes Amy,” Fred Oglesby spoke through gritted teeth; fourteen years of marriage had taught him that whenever his wife called him ‘Honey’ she was really calling him ‘Idiot’. “I know exactly where we are.”

That was a lie but he’d be damned if he was going to give her the satisfaction of admitting they were lost. Besides, how far from the park could they be?

Daddy!” his daughter whined, “Bobby won’t keep up.”

His son shouted back, “Shut up snotface!”

Robert and Rachel were twins and they had been bickering since they were old enough to use words and there was no sign of that stopping now. Fred laughed at the old wives' tales about twins having a special bond and dreaded the thought of them becoming teenagers.

Keep up Bobby,” Amy called, “we don’t need you wandering off.”

Jeez Mom, I’m not wandering off, I’m just looking for arrowheads.”

Ewwww I hate snakes!” Rachel said.

I mean Indian arrowheads snotface.”

Moooommmm!”

They came upon a sickly looking stream, no more than three feet at its widest it cut a deep groove into the soil as it snaked down the mountain. Fred made a show of sitting down on a log and shaking an imaginary stone from his shoe, “We’re almost there, refill your canteens and then we’ll get going again.”

Amy bent towards him, “If we’re almost there then why are they refilling their canteens?”

So they’ll stop bitching about being thirsty,” he said. 
Moooooommmm!” Rachel shouted, “Bobby spit water at me.”

I did not!” Bobby shouted back, “And she started it.”

Fred watched Amy head off to play referee then he put his shoe back on and stretched. Where the Hell were they? These trails were supposed to be marked. Had he led them all the way to the other side of the mountain?

Rachel said, “This water tastes funny, like a penny.”

Amy chuckled “And how would you know what a penny tastes like you silly?”

He made me.”

I did not!” Bobby yelled.

Oh this water does taste funny,” Amy said, “do you think it’s safe honey?”

I’m sure it is,” Fred pointed downhill and tried to sound confident, “Let’s go.”

The Oglesby family fell back in to marching formation, with Dad leading the way. They walked in silence for a time and Fred was grateful for that, he didn’t need any fighting or accusing questions. He was doing the best he could for God’s sake.

chat-chat-chat

For a scary moment Fred thought they had wandered across a rattlesnake but then he realized it was just one of Bobby’s repertoire of annoying sounds.

chat-chat-chat

chat-chat-chat

Fred rolled his eyes, now both kids were at it. “All right,” he said, “enough of that or no ice cream when we get back.”

chat-chat-chat

chat-chat-chat

chat-chat-chat

All three of them? Was this some kind of a prank? Fred turned around not sure if he should scold them or laugh along.

He found them transformed. The bodies of his wife and children had become bent and feral, the skin of their faces had begun to twist and curl back exposing bloodied bone and hungrily clicking teeth. Their breaths were labored. Their eyes were rolled back to the whites but they still saw. Fred was sure of that.

Bobby sprung first, his teeth snapping, his voice withered, guttural and speaking nonsense. Fred ran, too terrified for questions or reason. He could hear the three of them at his back, giving chase and chattering their teeth, endlessly chattering.

Panic made Fred clever, he scrambled through the trees and tickets and manged to double back around on his pursuers. He tried to find the trail again but only manged to make his way back to the sickly stream. 

What had Rachel said about the water tasting funny? Fred slowed and stared down, It looked just like ordinary water to him.

He half-remembered something he had read in one of the handful of pamphlets he had picked up from the Ranger’s station. It was something about how the indigenous peoples had wiped each other out with uncharacteristic savagery.


There was some legend to go along with it wasn’t there? Something about their warriors drinking the star-cursed ‘Blood of Koehaha’? Something about cruel spirits that had come from Outside the sky?

The sound of chattering teeth startled him from his thoughts. Fred looked up from the stream to find himself surrounded but familiar bodies with ruined skull-like faces.

And in his last moments Fred finally realized how truly lost they had become.

Friday, October 24, 2014

Attention Citizens!Support the kickstarter for a new edition of the PARANOIA or be charged with treason!

found via BOINGbOING

Serve the Computer! The Computer is your friend!
Imagine a world designed by Kafka, Stalin, Orwell, Huxley, Sartre and the Marx Brothers. 
Paranoia is a roleplaying game set in a darkly humorous future. In Paranoia, a well-meaning but deranged computer desperately protects the citizens of an underground warren from all sorts of real and imagined enemies. You play one of The Computer's elite agents. Your job is to search out and destroy the enemies of The Computer. Your worst fear is that The Computer will discover that you are one of these enemies. 
Paranoia: A light-hearted game of terror, death, bureaucracies, mad scientists, mutants, dangerous weapons, and insane robots, which encourages players to lie, to cheat, and backstab each other at every turn. 
Is that fun? Trust us.


Paranoia Rebooted

The all new, rebooted Paranoia box set has been designed to be played almost immediately from opening the box. It offers fast, manic game play through the use of streamlined mechanics and substantial components including Computer Dice and high quality cards to represent equipment, mutations and much more!
Paranoia now offers a thoroughly modern roleplaying experience, allowing you to get into the game even quicker:
  • Streamlined, simple rules with new card play that allows maximum carnage while allowing you to concentrate on the action (and survival).
  • A 21st Century approach to Alpha Complex - Terrorists have taken their proper place as the greatest threat now but Commies are still lurking in the background, and the Computer's benevolent surveillance capabilities are as all-encompassing as they were envisioned in 1984 (Paranoia's original release!).
  • The principal designer is James Wallis (Baron Munchausen, Once Upon a Time), the most celebrated designer of story-telling games (the Computer says so), assisted by original designers Eric Goldberg and Greg Costikyan, and Violet-level High Programmers-to-be, Grant Howitt and Paul Dean.
  • Minimum effort, maximum fun - with the simplified game system and card decks, you will be able to get into Paranoia within 10-15 minutes.

FLASHBAK presents "Night of the Living VHS: 1980s Horror Video Box Art"

From FLASHBAK