It's Called Coulrophobia, Dummy! Chapter 1
Law offices of Jennings, Braun and BryantIntensely scouring through the thick manila briefs on his newest client, Ted Jennings actually growled aloud, firing his new Cross pen across the room in an immature tantrum, as his intercom buzzed¸ disrupting his concentration.
Angrily mashing the answer button, he snarled, "What the hell is it now, Beth? How many times do I have to tell you? I don't want to be disturbed! This had better be good!"
Beth's timid, young voice trembled through the speaker. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Jennings… It's your client, Mr. Scofield. He's called seven times already. I've tried to put him off, but this time he says if you don't talk to him, he's coming down here and it won't be pretty. I don't know what else to do…"
Sighing, rubbing at his instantly throbbing temples, Ted closed his eyes for a moment, and took a deep breath as he prepared himself for the onslaught. One more defeated sigh, "Alright, Beth, put him through, but that's it! No more callers!" Damned asshole! Never should have taken that friggin' case! God! I just want this to end!
Taking a breath to hopefully calm the aggravation in his voice, he hit the line button on his phone console, "Ted Jennings here. How can I help you?"
He listened impatiently to the man on the other end of the phone line.
Finally, the strident voice paused for a breath amidst the screaming tirade and Ted, forever the lawyer, seized the opportunity, jumping into the verbal fray with both feet.
"Dammit, Buttons, how many times have I told you, there's no point to making any more of these harassing phone calls? Case closed! It's a moot point! We fought a tough battle, and we lost the case. Stop acting like a damned fool! Don't you dare question my handling of your case! I did everything--absolutely everything—I could, legally, to break that will. You sat right there beside me and heard the judge's decree just like I did! Iron clad will. Case closed! Done deal! No appeal! Now leave me and my staff the hell alone, or I'll be forced to take my own legal steps to restrain you."
It was painfully obvious that his words had fallen on totally deaf ears. The ranting voice continued to rave on for another minute or two. Ted held the phone away from him to let the lunatic yelling dispel into the room. What a friggin' clown! Finally the cacophony quelled, and he brought the handset once more to his ear.
"Buttons, I'm sorry that you feel that way. Despite what you think, I represented you to the best of my ability. Perhaps you would have been better served by reading that will before you signed as a witness."
The foul language flowed with renewed energy, but Ted had had enough. He forced himself to maintain control and ended the mostly one-sided conversation with a simple, "Well, I'm sorry you take that stance, Buttons. I did everything humanly possible. It just wasn't enough. No lawyer could dig you out of the hole you helped to dig for yourself. Threatening me will get you nowhere! Now, stop calling here!"
Without a second thought, he slammed the handset into the cradle. How dare that stupid son of a bitch question my loyalties? He'd damned well better give up the ghost on this one, there's nowhere else to go with it! Stupid bastard! If he would've read the damned thing like he was supposed to, that business could've been his. Cut his own damned throat and wants everybody else to save his bacon! Too damned bad!
Ted spent another hour trying to make sense of the papers in the new files, but it became easily evident he was reading words with no cognitive meanings. He needed a damned break, and he sure as hell was not going to get it here. Pushing out of his fifteen hundred dollar Moroccan leather desk chair, he gathered his jacket and fled to the reception area.
"Beth I need some time away. Going home for lunch. If you need me call, but, not if it's Buttons. I won't talk to him again." With that he turned on his heel, striding through the door to their parking garage. Climbing into his Mercedes, he triggered the convertible switch, hoping a bit of fresh air would clear his mind on the twenty-minute drive.
Eight fairly gridlock-free miles later, the head-turning little convertible sailed quietly through his very wealthy neighborhood, past luscious lawns and sumptuous residences. Ted's home, at a mere eight thousand square feet, was considered one of the smallest in the area. However, once past the classic Mediterranean veranda and exterior, the huge marble foyer led visitors into a tastefully designed and maintained Italian villa. Ted stayed here alone since his messy divorce two years ago and, at times, he ached to hear the patter of his youngest daughter's five-year-old feet beating a tattoo on the marble floors once more. He missed the girls, both Sarah-Anne and her older sister.
Pulling onto the circular drive, his eyes immediately were drawn to the rather large box leaning against the wall, two feet from his oak entrance. Getting much closer and seeing it was addressed to his ten-year-old, Samantha, he carried it into the house, feeling something heavy inside shift as he lifted the eighteen-by-thirty six inch box. Pausing long enough to stand it in the foyer corner, out of the traffic area, he momentarily wondered who would send her a gift to his place. Shrugging, he made a mental note to drop it at her mother's home on the weekend and continued on into the kitchen to fix lunch.
Thirty minutes, two business calls, and a hefty roast beef on whole wheat later, Ted Jennings once again passed through his large foyer as he headed back to the office. Glancing at the big mystery box, he decided to tell Samantha about it when they had their bedtime phone call that night, knowing the anticipation of a treat would really make her look forward to the upcoming weekend.
Relax Inn Somewhere Outside Las Vegas"C'mon, Sam. Let's get a move on," Dean growled, pacing impatiently outside their open room door as they readied to leave the '60's themed Relax Inn in their dust. "It's almost checkout time. I'm not forking over any extra cash for overstaying our welcome." The very thought of spending even a few more minutes in that garish, god-awful psychedelic environment made his growling stomach knot. After check-in last night it hadn't looked half bad, not with the lights out and his eyes closed, but sunlight made those colors come alive, and they were screaming now… probably in pain.
Undecided as to their eventual destination, the young hunters would get on the road and just drive. At least the open road was just that, open and beautiful, lush spring scenery in all directions. Fresh air, kick-ass tunes at top volume and brotherly company was all Dean really required and a little supernatural action to break up the monotony every so often. Sam always followed his big brother's lead.
Sam slid out the door, glancing over his shoulder as if being chased, tossing his backpack and rollbag into the Impala's open trunk. Slamming the trunk shut, he grinned, "Shit! Was almost afraid to shower. Figured Andy Warhol's ghost might drop in for a visit. Think we should stop by the office and tell them the new trend is soft, peaceful colors?"
"Naww, another few years and maybe it'll cycle back into style. Isn't it a rule like every forty years it comes back full circle?" Dean snorted.
Easing into the car in a nearly perfect mirror image, the hunters slammed the doors closed in unison. Dean guided the big black car onto the small highway and headed for the closest diner.
"Any good stuff on the internet today, Sammy?"
"Umm, nothing yet, but I'll keep looking. Maybe after breakfast we can get to the next town with a decent library and hit the newspapers."
"Yeah, 'cuz I gotta tellya, I'm getting itchy. We need a hunt." Dean frowned.
Nodding his head, Sam agreed, even he was getting bored.
Jennings ResidenceIt was bad enough it had been a crappy day at the office, now the damned sky was threatening to wash away half the hillside homes in the area. Ted had gotten back from lunch to find that Buttons had made good on his threat, and had put in an exceedingly unpleasant personal appearance during Ted's absence.
After a panicked call from Beth, a cadre of cops had stormed in to get things under control. Afterwards, Beth had behaved like the blithering, little, ditzy blond she really was. Tired of dealing with her sniffles and sobs for nearly an hour, Ted opted to send her home for the day. A call, several hours later, had informed him that, "Mr. Scofield had been booked and then released on his own recognizance."
It was nearly 7:30 in the evening as he pulled onto his driveway and, thanks to the sudden thunderstorms, the sky was boiling black. Ted aimed the headlights towards the wide, dark porch, chastising himself mentally for failing to turn on the veranda lights when he'd been home earlier.
Well, hell! That's why they invented these damn headlight timers!
Leaning over to snatch his briefcase and the Chinese carryout dinner he'd picked up, he backed rather ungracefully out of the leather interior, just in time to enjoy a blinding flash of lightning, followed instantaneously by a downpour from hell! Fifty feet of running through a truly torrential soaking!
Crap! Tomorrow I have to call that company and get that stupid canopy installed over the veranda! Damn it!!
Trying to save time, Ted cut across the corner of the lawn, instantly regretting the move as his Italian leather shoes sunk deeply into the over-saturated grass, immediately filling his shoes with water. As he dove onto the stone veranda, he glanced up to be sure he would hit the door head-on. For a tiny fraction of a second he could have sworn he saw just a glint of something silver flash behind the foyer window. Shaking his head, he looked again. Nothing.
Long-ass, stupid day, Teddy-boy... Seeing things now! Get your ass out of the rain. We need a nice stiff drink, a little dinner and a quiet talk with Samantha and life will look better.
Twisting the key in the lock, he pushed a shoulder hard against the heavy oak door, and as it swung open, stepped over the threshold onto the cool marble floor. Ted quickly realized his sopping wet shoes were not up to the highly polished challenge. His left foot immediately slid across the floor causing him to unceremoniously drop both his expensive briefcase and his dinner as he scrambled to grab the top of an antique secretary's table, hoping to stay upright. Succeeding in at least keeping his feet under him, he angrily kicked his shoes off and toward the corner. Reaching above the table, his hand moved through the darkness, groping for the lightswitch, and gratefully flipped it into the 'on' position.
Nothing…
"What the bloody hell! Shit! No damned lights. Aw, dammit!" A deep frown creased his broad forehead. Judging by the strong smell of shrimp lo-mein, no supper either, I guess. Ted loosed a deep sigh and grimaced as he vainly attempted to see anything with clarity in the eighteen-by-twenty foot foyer. He could make out nothing but shadows.
Placing his right palm against the wall, Ted intended to simply guide himself to the sitting room and beyond. Sliding his miserably wet, stockinged feet across the stone floor, he encountered not only the splattered lo-mein noodles, but something else, unfamiliar. Bending over, extending his hand, he found torn, shredded chunks of cardboard. A momentary flash of lightning showed him the remnants of the box he'd brought in earlier that day, looking as if, it'd been torn to pieces by a child having a tantrum!
"What the fuck?!"
Ted eyes flitted nervously about the room, encountering only darkness. Somehow the house felt wrong. It wasn't the wet clothes that were making him feel this chill. Someone else was in his house, Ted was sure of it!
His heart skipped a beat, suddenly veering into high gear as a fear of something unseen, unknown, flooded through his body. Fear seized the attorney, wrapping its freezing fingers around his throat, tightening his airways.
Squinting desperately, trying to refocus his eyes, he peered frantically into the black shadows. A gasp escaping his lips, as Ted saw something shift, a shadow subtly darker than the rest, but smaller than a man. Pushing himself up to his full height, his left hand scrabbled blindly to his jacket pocket, jerking out his cell phone. As his trembling fingers tore it open, the pale blue light from its screen glinted off something very close-by… shiny, silver, sharp and pointed!
The cell phone tumbled from his fingers, clattering to the floor, just as he felt a burning slash rip into his wrist and hand, laying the flesh wide open. Ted let loose a primal scream of pain as the hot blood poured over his cold wet sleeve and skin.
Magically, it seemed, the cell phone slid all the way across the floor, far out of reach, as if it'd been kicked. Ted's horrified eyes searched frantically around the room. His body tensed, ready for anything, but unsure of where to go . Fearful sweating joining the rainwater as it trickled down his frightened features. He gripped his injured arm with its mate, feeling the slick blood covering his skin, imagining a growing pool of it as he stood there, quivering.
That sharp metallic taste of fear in his mouth, and the iron-laden smell of his own blood, drove his confusion and terror into an absolute frenzy. Trying desperately to acclimate to the pitch-black surroundings, his chilled body began to tremble uncontrollably. His mind, sensing mortal danger, urged him to flee.
Quaking, he tried to control his panicked voice. "Who… Who's there?" he demanded, his halting voice hollowly echoing through the empty house.
His answer was a low sinister chuckle from somewhere to his left!
"Surprise!" growled a small, gravelly voice, again chuckling almost demonically at some private joke.
The very sound made the hairs prickle on the back of Ted's neck, like scratching down a blackboard. Gulping, Ted attempted to swallow the terror rising as a lump in his throat. His brain desperately tried to gauge the closeness of the sound.
Near his knees, Ted suddenly felt something brush past him, like a cat with its long serpentine tail briefly reaching out to caress pants legs as it slinks by. This, however, felt more like small teasing fingers! Feeling like ice cubes were running down his spine, he dropped his sight toward his knees, only to see… Nothing!
He gasped sharply, lurching defensively away from that spot. Intending to madly run for the door and the relative safety of the massive thunderstorm outside, he prayed that his assailant was as blind as he. Guessing his exit to be only six to seven steps away, the lawyer spoke, frantically trying again to determine the proximity of the invisible intruder.
"Who are you? What do you want?" he falteringly asked, trying to hide his surging terror, praying his trembling limbs would support him in his flight.
A momentary blinding flash of lightning… His eyes darted quickly around the room. Nothing… Oh, God, please…! Help me..!
His breathing coming in shallow, shuddering gasps now as he clawed at his wounded arm, trying to stem the dangerous flow of blood. Stumbling, scrambling desperately, trying to move across the glassy, stone floor and the added hazards of wet Chinese food and shredded, slippery cardboard, Ted nearly fell. Struggling insanely, he managed to maintain his upright stance. If he fell, he knew it was over for him!
Soft scrabbling, rustling noises from his near right, set Ted's heart pounding so loudly that thinking became almost impossible. Frantic, he forced his pain-filled eyes to focus and lunged toward the oaken door, only to be halted mid-stride as screaming, blinding pain overtook both of his lower legs.
Like a felled tree, he toppled to the floor, bellowing like a wounded bull. Floundering, willing his hamstrung legs to move, he got absolutely no response. He felt the warmth of his blood cascading across his lower limbs. The excruciating pain radiating from his calves was nearly too much to bear, bringing with it both pained tears and panic-stricken sobs. His breathing came out ragged, gasping.
Desperately clawing and scratching at the cold marble, trying to crawl towards the door, flailing his arms like a fish out of water, he suddenly felt someone or something step between his legs and viciously kick him in the balls. Instinctively, he tried to roll into a fetal position, only to be kicked again repeatedly in his bloodied wounded calves. All the while that insane laughter accompanied his attacker's actions and his own ear-splitting screams.
That voice again cut through the now terrifying darkness, breathy, rasping, almost gleeful.
"It's not polite to leave the party when you're the guest of honor, Jennings!" Again that demented chuckle filled the air.
Screaming uncontrollably, Ted twisted clumsily onto his belly, hoping to stifle the acidic vomit rising in his constricted throat. Instantly he felt the pressure of something the size of a small child straddling his burning legs, moving upward to seat itself on his buttocks.
Putting forth a titanic effort, Ted struggled vainly to dislodge his unseen foe. His attempts only provoked more maniacal cackling from the being. Ted's heart pounded within his chest, threatening to explode as the terror and hopelessness of his situation sunk in. His chances for survival… Bleak or none at all! His mind flashed momentarily to his beautiful young daughters. Will they miss their Daddy? Oh, God! Help me! Please…!! My babies…!
A sulfurous, putrid, decaying stench wafted through the air near Ted's face. Leaning far forward, the thing breathed excitedly into his right ear in that dreaded, deranged whisper.
"Should have been more careful about how you treated clients, Teddy. Some might return just to stab you in the back!" It chuckled evilly at its own wit. "Maybe we should help you get rid of some of that 'hot air' you're so full of…"
With that, Ted began shrieking in pain, as the blade of a large hunting knife punctured his exposed back again and again in a frenzied attack! The creature clung like Velcro to Ted, despite all of his thrashing and bucking. As the blade pierced a lung Ted's painful cries became strained gasping, grunts and groans.
As Ted battled to raise his head, seeking to somehow see his tormentor, he could feel it clutching, tearing at his hair. Finally, twisting and tossing his head violently, trying to unseat his murderer's weight from his shoulders, Ted's terrified eyes glimpsed a horrifying sight. Lightning flashed, and for just the briefest moment, illuminated a face so white it appeared hideously ghostlike. Two gleaming yellow orbs for eyes, like glowing egg yolks, were separated by a bulbous red nose and suspended above a huge monstrously grinning mouth, framed by blood-red, cruelly curled lips.
An insanely gaping mouth, grinning maniacally at him through the darkness! With teeth… Oh, God!! Ohmigod!
Flashing those malevolent teeth…! Those huge, razor-sharp, dagger-shaped, vilely yellowed teeth! In that mere instant, Ted was struck dumb, his terrified dying eyes and brain unable to comprehend such a loathsome creature! Ted hysterically renewed his attempts to scream and squirm in a last ditch effort of survival, feeling his fading mind edging toward madness.
As quickly as it had entered his sight, it disappeared!
"Oh, Teddy…! All this wiggling and noise has got to stop! Now!"
With that, Ted felt the tip of the knife come into contact with the vertebrae between his shoulder blades. In one lunatic, measured shove the blade drove home, deeply enough to paralyze him, but not deeply enough to kill.
Unable to move, lying pathetically on the cold Italian marble, watching the black pool of his blood continue to grow as his life ebbed away, Ted closed his dimming eyes, praying for the end to hasten.
"You should have listened better to your clients, Teddy," it growled.
Suddenly, something yanked his rain-drenched hair, viciously forcing his head to rotate to the left. Icy cold fingers latched roughly onto his throat and damp forehead, clamping his head in an inescapable, viselike grip. That face, filled with those terrifying teeth, loomed threateningly near Ted's huge horrified eyes, gnashing loudly several times. Then with a guttural growl it lunged forward, sinking those teeth into the meat and gristle of Ted's exposed left ear! Those teeth chewing, gnawing, tearing at his flesh!
Through the searing hot pain and the gurgling sounds of his own blood bubbling in his ear canal, Ted caught another, even more blood curdling noise… the sound the creature made, deep in its throat, as it gnawed and tore at him.
Those lusty, delighted sounds a man makes as he sinks his teeth into a delicious, perfectly done steak!
They were the last sounds Ted Jennings would ever hear.
Texas Longhorn Steakhouse Oklahoma CityThe hunters were celebrating, enjoying the extra money Dean's pool playing skills had brought their way. Nibbling at several crispy cucumber strips accompanying his massive chef's salad, Sam quietly observed the scene of devastation unfolding on the other side of the dinner table. He watched in amused horror as Dean assaulted a huge twenty-ounce Porterhouse steak. Sam winced as blood trickled from the rare meat with each fresh slice of the steak knife. Judging from the soft, growling, groaning sounds of pleasure Dean was emitting, Sam wouldn't be surprised to see his older brother lick the blood from the plate!