Little Mason was six standing over the tub near his two year old brothers dead, floating body…the air permeated with the smell of baby shampoo and chlorine.
Eleanor,his mother, was keening over the murder of her youngest child.
“What have you done to my BABY”…she wailed, “Oh Macey…what have you done?!”
Mason despised when she called him that. He couldn’t stand the grief stricken, loathsome sound, piercing his inner ear drums. He had to escape!
He ran out of the small ruined bathroom, down the hard wood floored hallway and slammed the door to his bedroom. It reverberated in his sick mind.
The dream placed him back in front of the terrifying basement door, dreading, not knowing what horrible entity awaited his arrival. His head was spinning, aching with dread it felt like it would explode. He tentatively touched the knob, he yanked his hand back as if it had burned him. He was petrified but unable to help himself from grasping the knob again and opening the door. It creaked in protest of the unoiled hinges.
The odor and sight of the dank, darkness assaulted his senses. Mold, mildew and pitch black. He tried the light switch to the single, dim, hanging bulb but it was burnt out. He navigated the rotted planks once more descending into the bowels of hell. He reached the bottom of the seemingly endless staircase, squinted his eyes and was petrified as his pupils adjusted to the blackness.
He stopped abruptly straining his ears in the direction of an eerie sound. It was an evil, gleeful, snickering coming from the back of the room still shadowed in black. He felt the tingle of goose bumps raise on his arms and legs, his hair stood up on the nape of his neck. He was hyperventilating… his heart flopping in his chest.
Unexpectedly he recognized the disturbing noise…it was Morgan, his dead brother, he had a menacing giggle that chilled Mason’s bones. He strained his eyes in the area of the creepy resonance. Mason couldn’t see a thing, he wanted to turn and scramble up the steps but his feet wouldn’t move, it was if they were glued to the floor.
The sound started getting nearer, with the added terror of tiny feet dragging on the cracked cement floor. Again, he noticed the faint smell of baby shampoo and chlorine. Mason opened his mouth to scream, the dream stole his voice, he helplessly whispered his defiance. His mind was urging him to flee but he was utterly paralyzed. He looked around frantically and as he turned his head he caught movement in his peripheral vision. His heart was pounding, he felt faint as Morgan came into view.
The baby was grinning sadistically, his little teeth showing and spittle on his chin. His small body was swollen with tub water and tinted with the blue of oxygen deprivation. He was still dripping, a puddle forming at his bare feet, within touching distance of Mason, with the now strong scent of bath water twisting his stomach. He remained frozen with fear as the horrific demon child tittered obnoxiously. Mason’s whole body was shaking violently, as the little hand with purple fingernails grasped his genitals…..
“Mason! Wake up! You’re having a nightmare!” Melanie urged him to wake, joggling him. He was disoriented, perspiring and scared to death.
Mason had been in the basement for hours, no one had gone against his command. He felt no sorrow for Terri or Melanie; they deserved his wrath for their snooping, intrusive questioning. He was worn out, as was the case after a killing. He laid his head down for just a minutes rest and soon was fast asleep. Before long he was dreaming.
Little Mason stood over his baby brothers dead, floating body listening to his mother keen. He couldn’t stand the sound and had to get away.
“What have you done to my BABY….?!” wailed Eleanor. Mason ran out of the small bathroom, down the hallway into his bedroom and slammed the door. It reverberated in his sick mind and suddenly he was back in front of the basement door, dreading, knowing what he would see if he opened it. His head was spinning and aching, it felt like it would explode. He softly touched the knob, unable to stop himself from going down into the dank, dark space. He navigated the rotten planks once more descending into the bowels of hell. He reached the bottom of the unending staircase, opened his eyes, he was terrified as his pupils adjusted to the blackness.
He heard the eerie sound of gleeful snickering coming from the back of the room still covered in darkness. His body broke out in goose bumps and he was breathing hard. He recognized the disturbing noise… It was Morgan, he had a menacing giggle. He strained his eyes in the direction of the creepy resonance. Mason couldn’t see a thing, he wanted to run but his feet wouldn’t move, it was if they were glued to the floor. The sound slowly yet steadily grew nearer. Mason tried to scream but as always, the sound was stolen by the dream. His mind was urgently warning him to flee but his legs were paralyzed. He looked around frantically and as he turned his head, he caught movement in his peripheral vision. His heart was pounding out of his chest as the apparition came in to view.
Morgan was grinning sadistically. His tiny body swollen with tub water and tinted with the blue of oxygen deprivation. He was still dripping and a puddle formed at his feet when he stopped right in front of Mason. He remained frozen by fear as the horrific demon child tittered obnoxiously. Suddenly his whole body started shaking violently, as the corpse reached out to grab him.
“Mason, wake up honey you’re having a bad dream.”
Mason woke with Melanie joggling him. He was disoriented, perspiring and scared to death.
“Oh good, you were having a nightmare. It seemed really bad. I’m glad you’re awake!”
“Where am I…what time is it?”
“It’s almost 9:00 and you’re in the basement. Are you all right?”
“Yah, I’m ok, a little shook up but ok.”
“You told me you were having dreams, are they all this bad?”
Mason was regaining his composure, he told Mel that this one was worse than normal and he assured her that he was fine.
“Let’s go upstairs and get you into something dry, your shirt is soaked!”
He followed her up the stairs still picturing his dead brother in his psychotic brain.
Mason is an evil killer. The reason he looked like hell in earlier excerpt is that he is terrified to sleep. He is haunted by childhood night terrors and adult nightmares. This is one of his dreams:
Mason fell asleep and started dreaming vividly about killing. His dream flashed from one victim to another.
He saw Bryson’s car in flames, he was running in slow motion trying to get away from the inferno, it was singeing his hair, burning his back…he could barely move his leaden feet.
As he was struggling Mason looked up right into the half-eaten face of Tiffany, she was standing blocking his way. She was mouthing words but no sound came out. Her dead accusing eyes with hate further burning him.
He was in the dank, dark, rank dumpster, his body covered with Elsa’s blood. She was sitting at an impossible angle, legs under and behind her. Her bodice was visible with crimson dripping out of the stab wounds. Her eyes…he couldn’t look at her eyes, yet he could not tear himself away. The blank lifeless orbs were boring into his eyes, he was trying to scream. Elsa was attempting to lift her head but the broken neck flopped from one side to the other, making a bone on bone grinding sound. Mason was going to lose his mind.
In his head he was saying “No…No…No”, but his throat was closed by the rag stuffed in his mouth. He thought he would faint, when Elsa started cackling a loud horrible noise that threatened to make his head explode! She started moving towards him by pulling her ruined body by her arms. He backed up as far as he could against the dumpster when it turned into the soft seat of the red rental car.
He thankfully laid his head on his arms propped by the steering wheel and took a deep breath. It smelled like rotting flesh. He was afraid to turn his head. Before he looked to see, what gruesome sight was in store…the nylon rope wrapped around his neck. It was so tight he could not catch his breath. Two cold, hard fingers slowly pulled his eyelids down and he was blind! He was twisting and gagging….when he woke up the blanket was bound, wrapped and tangled around his body. He tore it loose and actually cried. Cried for him.