Story #1
These Pistols Sing the Old World Blues
Part 1 of a 3 Part Epic
by Trey Smith
Horror movies. It was all Jesse could watch these days. His own personal horror of what he had become, his failures, his anguish, had pushed himself to only watching things that were, to him, horrific. A constant reminder of the obese, balding sack of filth he saw himself as.
The DVD of his favorite movie, This is Spinal Tap, lay open on the floor, the disc defiled with irreparable scratches from lying there for months. He was in the middle of watching Alien.His favorite scene was beginning. The man fell to the table. Screaming. A creature from his nightmares burst forth from his chest. Blood. More screaming.
Jesse paused the movie with the remote he had found buried under himself. He stood up and looked around. Joey's meth lab stood before him. Jesse had thought of taking up the addiction. He always thought to himself that his life couldn't get any worse and taking up a horrible life destroying habit wouldn't do any more harm. His life was already destroyed enough.
Rebecca had left him 3 years ago for Europe with their children. She always wanted the eccentric life of a rock star and the English man she met in that AOL chatroom could give it to her. He was reportedly a rich man having made millions from fixed horse races and the like. They were better off anyway, he thought to himself.
Jesse once again resisted the urge to try the meth if only because he was too lazy to walk over to the table. Instead he sat back down. The trek upstairs would be too much for him in his sullen state. Maybe a Halloween marathon would cheer him up.
On the top floor of the home Danny was cleaning his newly purchased shotgun. For the last few weeks they were getting threatening phone calls. The person was threatening them with their life saying such things as how he would murder the entire family. No one knew what he wanted and when asked he would furiously hang up. The police refused to help saying there was nothing they could do. Danny accused them of being anti-Semitic though no one took it to heart. He wasn't Jewish after all.
Downstairs, Joey sat on the couch, high out of his mind, watching cartoons. He got the worst of it.
At that moment the front door blew open, straight off its hinges, flying directing toward Joey. He was too stoned to move and the door and his face collided. A smoke grenade bounced into the living room and exploded. Joey began coughing though whether or not it was the blood or smoke that caused it was a mystery.
A man entered the room wearing a gas mask and branding two pistols. Each one with the words "These Pistols Sing the Old World Blues" engraved on the sides. He began firing sporadically in Joey's direction. The smoke was blinding him and luckily the door shielded Joey from most of the shots.
Danny sprung from the bed. He reassembled the gun as fast as he could. He could hear the slow footsteps of the armed assailant climbing the stairs. He loaded his gun and took cover beside the door. After peeking out into the hall and when he did not see anyone he quickly ran toward the girl's room.
He threw the door open screaming for them to follow him. The girls were so startled that they jumped up and did as he said at first thinking he was the shooter. Once they realized he wasn't they knew exactly where they were going. There was a panic room at the end of the hall hidden behind a plant of wood. DJ, Stephanie, and Michelle all followed Danny out of the room into the hallway.
As they stepped into the hall they spotted Jesse. He lumbered toward them looking terrified and panicked. Danny grabbed him by the wrist and pulled him toward the wall. He removed the plank, entered the pass code, and locked themselves inside. They then looked toward the monitors and watched as the man reached the top of the stairs.
"Where are you," he mumbled to himself before his eyes saw the hulking door that lay before him. "Of course."
He slowly walked forward. He put his marked pistols away into their holsters and grabbed the steel mallet he had on his back. When he reached the panic room he slid one finger down the door and wiped his hand on his pants to rid himself of the dust and began swinging.
The powerful collisions shook what felt like the entire house. Everyone was crying except for Danny, who was stone faced clutching his shotgun. The dust fell from the ceiling with every smash and the inevitable conclusion was at hand.
It only took moments before basketball sized hole formed in the door. The assailant peered inside and saw four terrified faces. He made eye contact with DJ and then threw a smoke grenade inside the room.
Everyone fell to the floor coughing, all except for DJ who was too transfixed by the moment she and the assailant shared. She knew him. But from where? DJ walked forward and opened the door.
The smoke began to clear and the assailant's metal arm rose upward to remove his mask. It was Steve.
"You're comin' with me Deej." Steve's cold metal hand grasped DJ's wrist and the both of them teleported out of the room.
End of Part 1