The Manson Effect - Donovan's Cure (988 hits)
Category: NoneLabels: Untruth
Rating: 1.89 on 32 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Snark << snarkk.at.gmail.com (View user info) at 2005-09-08 12:46:11 EDT
Whipped this one up quick and dirty at work this morning. There will be mistakes
TME - DONOVAN'S CURE
The moon is shattered.
Humanity is shattered.
Everyone who has ever meant anything to me is dead or lost and my next-door neighbor is standing outside with a knife.
He's smiling and looking back at me through the peephole. He's holding the thick bladed butcher knife out in his fat fucking hands, as if he's brought me a gift, and from what I can tell, he thinks he has.
Hell... I'm beginning to think he has too.
I've stayed here too long. I should have left weeks ago. I should have gassed up the Toyota and hit the road... idunno... maybe I should have drove north to Canada. Maybe the homicidal maniacs up there are more polite.
Jesus, why did I stay here so long?
"Jim... Jimbo c'mon, open up. Just let it happen buddy."
"Never happen Marty. Fuck Off."
He's so goddamned polite about wanting to kill me.
How long has it been? Three weeks, no four. Yeah, four weeks give or take a decade since the world turned left of sanity and parked on murder lane.
Twenty Eight days, give or take a pint of blood, since I watched my best friend kill an old lady with his sunglasses.
A full month since I watched him killed in turn by an old bums broken guitar neck.
They always wear that smile when they do it, and they use whatever's handy to get the job done.
In the back alley I used to use to sneak out of my apartment, there is the rotting bloated corpse of a mailman. He's hanging from the fire escape with what looks like a bicycle chain. He's a good 3 feet off the ground. It must have taken some real effort to kill a full grown man that way. I guess it's a testament to the power of the urge that's ripping through the world.
"Jimbo. I want you to know that I'll be quick. I don't want to hurt you so don't be afraid. I just need to do this one little thing. I'll push it through your eye man. It'll be so fast you won't know it happened."
"NO!"
"Ok Ok, suit yourself. I can wait. I'll be right here when you change your mind kay?"
He leans against the wall and waves the knife cordially at the peephole. There's a red stain down the left arm of his plain white colored shirt, where he cut it trying to get in through the kitchen window via the fire escape. It looks like it's spreading and he's pale and breathing heavy. He's gotta be in a fair amount of pain but he's still wearing that gleefully serene mask on his face.
God I hate him.
"Hey Marty."
"Yeah?"
"I never liked you, you know. You're a fat stupid little man and you're a fucking pig. I've seen your place. You need to buy a vacuum and a dog to eat the shit off your carpet you slob."
My crappy insult doesn't phase him one bit. He runs his free hand through his greasy black hair and shakes his head.
"That's just the bad water talking through you brother. It's ok, I understand."
He's so goddamned alert and horribly alive. His eyes are clear and yet he's blind to what he's become, and I realize talking to him is something akin to arguing with a zealot, or begging for you life with one of the Manson family.
I need to get out of here. Out of the apartment and out of the city. I need to get as far away from the stench of rotting flesh and the constant insane serenade of the bulldog on the other side of the door.
My cutlery drawer is full. I have knives of my own. I could face him down but I'm too tired. I'm a good foot taller than him, but he's a little brick shithouse. The second I opened the door he'd be through it and I'd have 6 inches of fine Japanese metal shoved through my frontal lobe. I've seen the speed the infection or whatever it is gives them.
I wouldn't stand a chance.
And I'm so damned tired. I haven't slept more than an hour or two since it all started. I thought it was the shock of it all at first. I thought it was the horror and the stress of not knowing whom I was going to end up running from next that was keeping me up, but now I know better.
It's the moon, or the pieces thereof that are doing it. It's influence seems to get worse with each passing day, and now when I close my eyes there's this buzzing sound that reverberates through me as if I'm lying on the speaker of a radio that is set to static, or a sounding board for the indecipherable whispers of a thousand dead people.
Every night it gets louder and I think that those of us, who haven't become homicidal, are going to end up going insane in our own way.
I can't go out the back window. Marty managed to snap the ladder somehow and the fire escape doesn't go any further up from my floor.
I know about fire escapes and getting out of buildings. I was a firefighter - four weeks ago - in my past life.
I know about what happens when people try to climb out of buildings with ropes fashioned with bed sheets.
I may be going insane but I'm not there yet. I may not be thinking as straight as I should be but I'm not so desperate that I'd put Darwin's theory to the test.
"Hey Jimbo, just a thought... but it doesn't have to be a knife you know. I have a hammer in my toolbox. All you would have to do is open the door, turn round, and BAM!"
He likes to keep me talking because it keeps the anxiety at bay. I've seen what happens when one of the stricken loses their prey. I've witnessed the breakdown that comes if they are denied the opportunity to do what they feel they must, so I go quiet.
I never thought I'd regret not owning a gun, but right now I'd buy an arsenal and a T-shirt with the words "Shock and Awe" emblazoned on it in bright red letters.
Now there's a stupid idea. I'd probably accidentally shoot myself before I got him, hell, I don't even know how to load a gun.
No, if I'm going to beat him I gotta stick to what I know. I gotta fight him on my terms because the odds are in his favor.
I hit the kitchen and the hall closet, gather what I need, and then return to the door.
A quick peek out the distance-distorting lens of the peephole tells me he's still there, so I get to work.
The sounds of my efforts on the door draw his attention back to me and I hear him put his head against it.
"What you up to in there Jimbo?"
"Back off or I'll blow your fucking brains out."
My empty threat is met with a chuckle and a cordial response.
"Awww you don't have a gun pal. You're not that kind of guy. I have one though. I just don't have any bullets for it... hey! I could go get some if you'd prefer..."
"Good idea Marty, why don't you go pick up some ammo?"
The other side of the door becomes silent, and for a second, I think I can actually hear the warped machinery of his internal thought process grinding along.
"Will you be here when I get back?"
"Sure."
"You promise?"
"Yeah, I just want it to be quick."
"Well... there's nothing much faster than a bullet I guess..."
I hear him turn on his heels but he doesn't step away from the door and a moment later his low throaty chuckle resonates through it.
"Good one Jimbo." he chortles, "You almost had me there. I've always enjoyed your sense of humor you know."
My efforts on the door come to fruition and the peephole lens pops out with an audible "Snap."
"I'm serious Marty. You go get the ammo and I promise I'll be here waiting when you get back."
"I'm not stupid my friend. I know a trap when I see one... what are you doing in there."
I do my best to keep my voice even when I reply. I've never been a gifted liar but necessity is the mother of invention and the words slip out of my mouth naturally regardless.
"Look, I've removed the lens from the door. You can see into my apartment clearly now. I'll stand against the far wall so you can see I have nothing up my sleeves."
He drops into silent contemplation for a moment and then his footsteps advance to the other side of the door again.
"I can't see..."
His sentence turns into a scream as I squeeze off a straight stream of rubbing alcohol from the spray bottle I have pressed against the hole. I hear him stumble backwards but I keep spraying because I need to cover as much of him as possible.
Three more spurts and then I'm flinging the door open and pulling the barbecue lighter out of my waistband.
His face is wet and red and he's clawing at his left eye with such fervor, that the knife in his left hand slices his brow.
"Why? Why would you do this to me?"
The honest hurt in his voice catches me off guard and I hesitate. Something about the sincerity of his voice makes gives me pause and I find myself standing slack jawed in front of him and I'm feeling a twinge of guilt, but then it's quickly replaced by something else.
In my minds eye, a slideshow of mutilated bodies plays itself out. Every horrible scene I've witnessed at the hands of the stricken flashes behind my eyes and the voice of my sister gurgles wetly in my ears, as she pleas for help during the last call I received before the phones went dead.
I shut my eyes tight and will the images away, and when I open them again, I'm not looking at my next door neighbor anymore. I'm not looking at a man. I'm looking at everything that went wrong with the world. I'm looking at ignorance and blood lust and the embodiment of the decay of morality.
He's not screaming anymore. He's half grinning, half grimacing and the knife is held over his head, poised to strike.
I put my hand up defensively, the blade slices cleanly through my palm, up to the hilt. Red hot pain shoots through my hand, as if the blade just came off the dtove, and then the buzzing start back in my head, and I push the lighter against his raw red face and click the trigger.
For a moment there's nothing. Time stops and I'm looking at a man again. The flame flickers gently against the side of his face uselessly, and then time comes back with an audible "Whoomp" and the side of his cheek bursts into yellow-blue flame.
He steps back and says "Jimbo Donovan." Then turns to run but my foot shoots out, almost of its own accord, and he goes down hard.
He hits the ground face first and the tip of his broad knife juts out from the back of his head..
He twitches once, then a second time, then lies still as the flames ignite his hair and the hall fills with the acrid stench of a burning dead man.
I'm standing here watching him burn and that buzzing is in my head again, even though my eyes are open, but for some reason it's not so bad.
Something about the smoke beginning to rise from the back of his shirt is comforting and I'm wondering if I haven't stumbled on the answer.
Maybe what the world needs is a red-hot purge. Maybe the cure to the insanity is to burn it out of the cities like a body burns out a virus.
The buzzing is gets louder then changes and it's not a buzz so much as a crackle like wood splitting open in a blaze.
Yeah, I'll start here. I'll go one building at a time.
Always go back to what you know. It's a simple rule, but it's powerful.
Go back to what you know.
I know fire.
User Reviews
Submitted by Yes (user info) at 2005-09-13 16:09:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
<vader>NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!</vader>
Submitted by QueenAshlee (user info) at 2005-09-12 23:03:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I do not approve that message.
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2005-09-12 09:28:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Sorry guys, this will not be finished.
I don't want to do one of those useless goodbye posts so this is it.
Later Uber, it was fun.
Submitted by QueenAshlee (user info) at 2005-09-11 00:43:25 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
MORE PLEASE
Submitted by munkeypants (user info) at 2005-09-11 00:11:38 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Stabkill (user info) at 2005-09-10 05:56:53 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
By the way, you were right with the ubermadness comment...I just threw that out there because I was expecting a good long flame fight and would have tried to use something good (winning ubermadness) to your disadvantage .... "fuckin' nazi wins ubermadness, now he owns ubersite? Who the fuck is this guy?" Words I believe as much as the tooth fairy. But hey, that's how it goes...
Hope you slept thinking you got spammed -2's, that would be a good laugh.
Submitted by Stabkill (user info) at 2005-09-10 05:18:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Retaliatory -2's are from doing Satan's bidding.
Submitted by Stabkill (user info) at 2005-09-10 05:17:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2005-09-10 04:25:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
Submitted by Stabkill (user info) at 2005-09-10 03:21:10 (#)
Ranking: -2
http://www.morganquitno.com/cit05pop.htm
Feel free to make your own opinion...disputing my opinion is fine, disputing sources got you this -2. I guess it is all a conspiracy? You one of those types?
-----------
Disputing what sources?
You didn't provide sources until now.
I'm giggling like a school girl though.
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2005-09-10 03:26:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Give me sources in the original post and if they check out, I won't dispute them.
Do it on the post the fucking argument originated on and I'll take you seriously.
Now, you're just another shithead.
Submitted by Stabkill (user info) at 2005-09-10 03:21:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
http://www.morganquitno.com/cit05pop.htm
Feel free to make your own opinion...disputing my opinion is fine, disputing sources got you this -2. I guess it is all a conspiracy? You one of those types?
Submitted by Stabkill (user info) at 2005-09-10 03:10:03 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
http://city-data.com/
http://www.detnews.com/2004/specialreport/0408/16/a01-242749.htm
http://sfgate.com/cgi-bin/article.cgi?f=/n/a/2005/09/02/state/n043453D19.DTL
Crime has been decreasing in the USA on the most part (as the amount of people in prison rise...criminals going to jail, do you disapprove of this, too?)
Why don't you give ME your numbers to dispute rather than the bullshit "Oh, you didn't put any sources and numbers lie" bullshit.
Do you dispute my numbers? Please point to YOUR source other than your worthless words? I suppose you know more, uberlord, than those who compile the number of dead bodies with bullets in them in some dangerous city. They are probably part of the conspiracy.
Submitted by Stabkill (user info) at 2005-09-10 03:02:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: -2
A retaliatory -2 is not out of the realm, even for the uberlord. Get your nose out of a god damn book and go to the city and see what life is like on the street in the 'hood, yo.
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2005-09-09 14:31:42 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Congrats, dude. You, as always, rocked.
Submitted by HadToBeDone (user info) at 2005-09-09 13:46:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
After Necrosiac and TME, I was gonna start a one man riot if you hadn't won.
The fact that you went back and hit all of my real stuff was just one more reason to sing your praises.
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2005-09-09 13:39:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Hehehe thanks Bro.
Submitted by HadToBeDone (user info) at 2005-09-09 10:27:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
UBERLORD, MOTHERFUCKER!!!! WOO!!!!
Submitted by HadToBeDone (user info) at 2005-09-09 08:04:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Killer shit, bro.
Submitted by JonnyX (user info) at 2005-09-08 16:32:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
pretty good
Submitted by DonovanMD (user info) at 2005-09-08 15:25:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Submitted by Professional_Peon (user info) at 2005-09-08 15:19:10 (#)
Ranking: 2
I was cringing at the whole 'peek hole' thing. I was waiting for Donovan to jam a meat thermometer through the hole and into his eye.
<shudders>
--
Sounds like something I'd do.
Submitted by Professional_Peon (user info) at 2005-09-08 15:19:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I was cringing at the whole 'peek hole' thing. I was waiting for Donovan to jam a meat thermometer through the hole and into his eye.
<shudders>
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2005-09-08 14:37:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
very cool
Submitted by Jeanneee (user info) at 2005-09-08 14:11:23 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
FIRE
Submitted by Crystle (user info) at 2005-09-08 14:09:17 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Whooooooooooooooooooa.... Creepy
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2005-09-08 13:40:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
My god I'd like to get inside of your head someday.
It would be like fisting, but using your nostril instead.
What?
Submitted by Salvation_Jane (user info) at 2005-09-08 13:37:55 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
shhwweeat
Submitted by GodLovesALittleLovin (user info) at 2005-09-08 13:27:30 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I feel like smoking a cigarette now...
Submitted by PokeyPecker (user info) at 2005-09-08 13:09:57 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm often glad there is a computer monitor and a network between me and the majority of you crazy fuckers on this website.
Submitted by wookie (user info) at 2005-09-08 12:59:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
God damn I wish you posted more often.
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2005-09-08 12:53:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
He's already cracked. Nice.
Submitted by c1ndy (user info) at 2005-09-08 12:48:21 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
wow. you have a lot of "free time" at work!
Submitted by Snark (user info) at 2005-09-08 12:46:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Part 1 of 3