The Crimson Massacre

Part one, The incident.

 The room was dark and cold. The room was where they would die, all accept one. This boy, the one who lives would be the one to watch it all happen.

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"Pipsqueak? Did you hear what she called me Mad Hatter, a pipsqueak. Door Mouse announced as he slowly but swiftly walks across the stage. "Oh, but you are a pipsqueak Door Mouse, oh. But we love you anyway.. The Mad hatter exclaimed. That was me, the Mad Hatter. From Wonderland, to your hometown. Yes, I'm here, but I'm not the real Mad Hatter. My Name is Josh,  Josh Murphy. And I'm here to tell you my story. This is where it all began, I just didn't know it yet. 

 "OKAY. EVERYBODY. I need you all to listen. As you all know this is the opening night for our play," cheers sound from the cast as they sit at their makeup table, the smell of sweat and hairspray lingers in the air, "One thing we need to look out for is the fact that there is a lot of glass in the tea party scene, so March hare, Door mouse, and The Mad Hatter need to be careful for that. If something does break just call one of the techies to help clean it up, I mea--" 

 "Ms. Stinson, it's six O'clock." The silence was deafening, all of the actors stomachs churned and rolled over as they slowly made their way to the plethora of decorations on the stage trying not to break anything. "Mic's On!".... Showtime.

 As the play moved on, the actors grew more and more exhausted and the smell of Sweat was becoming more and more prominent. "Come on guys," I whispered " only seventeen more lines to go." As the play started to reach a conclusion we all got into place to take our bows.

 When it was over we had to stand in a line and thank all of the audience members for coming. This wasn't hard but it was awkward, almost as awkward as it is when you are talking to somebody about something that you are attempting to make fun of, but then you find out that they love that thing, and you just kind of sit there because you don't know if you should apologize or just change the subject.  "Haha, did you see that creepy as hell guy?"

"Yeah," I said forcing it out, eyeing the man sitting in the back of the poorly lit auditorium staring at me, "I'll be right back I said" making my way towards him slowly, I got about seventy-five percent of the way until I was stopped by my teacher, "You did AWESOME tonight Josh,and that stunt you did with the white rabbit was awesome, you did a fantastic job tonight."

"Thanks," I said letting her compliments slide off my shoulders. When she moved aside, I was greeted by the man's empty seat,  "what the hell" that's the only thing that could come to my mind. How did he leave, the door was behind me. There is NO way, it's not possible.

I made my way to where he was sitting. I was greeted by the demon of horror itself. There carved into the back of the seat read. "DEATH TO WONDERLAND AND DEATH TO ALL!" I called Ms. Stinson and she came back accused me of vandalism, then told me to go home. "Be here at 5:00 in the afternoon tomorrow so you can do your hair and makeup." 

Reluctantly I replied with an angry and aggressive "Fine."

 Finally, home, I put some Hot Pockets in the microwave and sat down on the couch. "I guess Mom and Dad are working late again." I had said to myself.  When I had finished my dinner I took a shower and went to bed.

Click. The creak and crack from the bedroom door slowly swung open, making a stereotypical horror movie noise echo throughout the house. I pretended to be asleep. Worst mistake I have ever made. BAM! I was knocked unconscious.

When I came to my mind was incomprehensive. I didn't know what happened or where I was; Let alone why I was there.  All of the sudden a light sprang to life and there I saw it. All over the walls "DEATH TO WONDERLAND AND DEATH TO ALL!"  I was there. In the auditorium tied to a chair, the smell of Blood was unmistakable, a sinister voice similar to a baby made from Samuel L. Jackson, Morgan Freeman, and James Earl Jones Spoke "Welcome to Hell." The stage lights turned on. A man in white was in the middle of the blood-soaked stage, with a half circle of chairs in the middle with spikes on the back and arm rests. "Bring them out," He Roared Sinisterly as two of his henchmen, also dressed in white walked over to the backstage door. As they walked inside blood-curdling screams shot out of the closet, they danced off the walls, and then landed in my soul, I was hit with a huge wall of terror. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING, WHO IS BACK THERE?" 

"You want to know who is back there?" the maniacal man stated. " What is taking so long. Bring them out." The henchmen, now covered in wet crimson fabric. Pulled on a large chain coiled on the ground. The men lunged and the chain became taught. Shuffling was heard as multiple cries were heard throughout the room. Then I saw them, beaten and bloodied, my friends stood tied to one another with chains. As they made their way to take their seats in the horned chairs I screamed pleading with the man In white, asking, begging and pleading with him to let them go. He is crazy. I have never seen such satisfaction in any ones eyes as my friends mangled and broken bodies fell limp onto the spike covered chairs. Broken, beaten, mangled, bleeding and impaled, my peers sit crying and trying not to move look straight at me. "YOU'RE GOING TO ROT IN HELL FOR THIS!" Trying not to release my emotions, my horror, my fear. "Oh, but I'm not," he smiles a devils smile as he makes his way down the stage and over towards me. "I will not rot in hell. Because that is where you are going." his breath ran down the back of my neck, sending chills down my spine. 

He made his way back to the stage and yelled "Cue the music" a soft lullaby starts to play called Quiet Slumber  a flat and unsettling piece bursts through my ears "Let the games begin." Two strong men started making their way towards me, sinister grins stuck on their faces. One held a knife in his hand, and the other, a hatchet. "Take your pick BOY," one of them said  "and hurry up we wanna have fun two." They untied me, but why? The one with the knife started leading me to the stage. When we arrived I was in the middle of the semicircle surrounded my friends, eight out of ten dead from blood loss. Eight lifeless bodies hang limp in the spiked chairs. 

"Well, we are waiting." 

"Waiting for what," I thought "for me to torture them, kill them. MURDER them?"  The henchman with the knife  screamed for me to do terrible things to my only two friends left alive. Finally, he had enough. He took his knife and plunged it into my outer thigh just centimeters from my Femoral Artery. I screamed as my pants became the color of crimson red. "KILL THEM." he screams, and just when he is about to puncture my leg again, a loud pop rang in my head. When I realized what had happened, It was too late, Jaxon, my neighbor, had a bullet in his skull that had entered just as quickly as it exited. Nine out of ten. "If I do this, will you let me go?" What was I saying and how could I be so selfish? I would kill one of my close friends to save my own life, but the words had already escaped my lips there was no going back. "If you do this, you will be a hero." A hero? Killing an innocent person makes me a hero. "Take your pick, Clean edge or Serrated blade?" My subconscious kicked in as if I had no control over my body I was forced to see, hear, and feel everything I was about to do to him, and I couldn't stop it. "Serrated, more pain, more effort, and more tearing." The remaining bits of my soul pleaded with me to stop but for some god forsaken reason I could not put the blade down. "Have your way with him, just don't end it too quickly." 

"Will do."

"Good."

The terror struck his face like a bat hits a baseball. Hard. After three long hours of torture what was left to do to him, but one thing...his Femoral Artery. The knife greeted his thigh and flirted with his beaten and broken skin. 45 degrees, 90 degrees, and fire. The knife slowly pushed down on the surface of the skin, giving moderate resistance. He knew what I was doing, but he couldn't get away from it. The skin gave way as the knife traveled deeper and deeper into this leg about four inches in I realized that I had missed it. So naturally instead of being messy and making another puncture wound I would just make it simple. I grabbed the knife handle firmly and started to make a counter-clockwise motion twisting, ripping and tearing flesh along with it. When it had severed the artery, I watched the color drain from his body, from pink to a pale gray. I saw the life leave his eyes and I saw him take his last breath. When he was dead I had plenty of mixed feelings. "Well done," The man in white said walking over to the door with his henchmen "I knew you could do it. Tatty bye." He slipped away into the night never to be seen again. I left them there, to be discovered by someone who wasn't me and never really thought about it; until now. There on the stage ten bodies, mangled, beaten and life-less covered in red liquid sat in  a circle. I never told anyone what really happened until now and honestly. I enjoyed it.

Wonderland dialogue from the beginning is from "Alice in Zombieland" from "Contemporary Drama Service" Colorado Springs Co. USA