Lunacy

LUNACY

by Dan Dillard

Copyright © 2012 Dan Dillard

This is dedicated to my daughters, Brenna and Schuyler. My imagination lives in your eyes. It still amazes me when you look to me for answers, advice…anything. I love you, Daddy.

All rights reserved. No part of this document or the related files may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, by any means (electronic, photocopying, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author.

LUNACY

Smashwords Edition

Digital ISBN: 978-1476368955

Cover art by: Lydia Burris

Short Story Lunacy Edited by: Gina Nagler

This book is work of fiction. Characters, names, places, incidents, and organizations are a product of the author’s twisted imagination and are fictitious.

Other books from this author:

Demons and Other Inconveniences

What Tangled Webs

The Unauthorized Autobiography of Ethan Jacobs

How To Eat A Human Being

Giving Up The Ghost

The Toothless Dead

Light As A Feather

The Journeyman

Dig

and the novella, The Wicked

For more information:

http://www.demonauthor.com

http://www.facebook.com/thedemonauthor

http://twitter.com/demonauthor

http://gplus.to/dandillard

demonauthor@gmail.com

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank my family first. My wife for her understanding, patience (however slight), proofreading, and her honest opinion. To my children, I owe my imagination’s triumphant return.

Thanks to everyone who reads this story—and any of my other stories—whether you love, or hate them.

Thank you to Lydia Burris for seeing what I saw in my head, and having the talent to make it real, even if I made it purple.

Thanks to my father, Robert Dillard, also for proofreading, and Gina Nagler for helping me find the mistakes in the words and their meanings. You’re the best! If readers find any other errors, I assure you, they are mine.

Last, I’d like to thank the fans of the weird, the unusual, the things that make you stay up at night, afraid to check the closet door for fear of what might be waiting there. I’m right there with you.

JEREMY BOONE

Here lies the body of Jeremy Boone.

A lazy teenager who slept until noon.

He had a foul mouth and terrible frown,

and everyone feared him, all over town.

To discipline Jeremy, nobody dared.

Even his parents were constantly scared.

They cleared him a path and gave him his way

Which made him grow meaner each day after day.

He picked on the kids in his church and his school

He once drowned a dog in the neighborhood pool.

The weak and the chubby were his victims of choice

Taunt them, he would, with his menacing voice.

The folks in the berg tired of living in fear.

As long as he’s round, we don’t want to live here!

They called on the hermit who lived on the hill,

And asked for his guidance and magical skill.

He watched the young lad wreaking havoc and pain,

He watched in the sunshine, and watched in the rain.

Then he conjured a spell to cause Jeremy pain.

Young Jeremy Boone woke the next day past noon

With no inclination his demise would be soon.

He walked toward the school with evil intentions

Unaware of the old watcher’s magic inventions.

The sky it grew dark and brewed as it toiled

Breeze turned to gale and the cumulus boiled.

Nightmarish things clawed their way through the soil.

Jeremy puffed his chest and walked without care,

Nothing in that town could give him a scare.

He entered the schoolyard and worked up a glare

And shouted, Come get me! Right now, if you dare!

The old madman smiled in his shack on the hill,

Glad to watch the lad try and swallow that pill.

He’d been a victim of bullies himself as a child

Because he was a thinker, his manner was mild.

He watched the skies swirl and then he heard the sound

As all his dark minions escaped from the ground.

Goblins and ghouls and shambling things

Lay in wait in the shadows for the school bell to ring.

They surrounded their prey and he started to shake

Hisses and eyes made him quiver and quake.

When the bell finally rang and the children appeared

They laughed at the bully and his ironic fear.

The goblins came first and chanted their taunts

At the boy who was given whatever he wants.

They circled him gnashing their teeth in his face

Then grabbed his arms and his legs and held him in place.

The ghouls and the demons gave him no relief

One scare for each child that he’d ever caused grief.

Then specters and monsters of every style

Took turns beating Jeremy up for a while.

His hair turned to white and he cried and he screamed,

But the army of haunts’ fangs glistened and gleamed.

They dragged him deep into the woods and then,

On to the boneyard where he met the old man.

"I knew many like you when I was a boy.

You treat others’ emotions as if they were toys.

I vowed to the townsfolk today at school’s bell,

That you, Mr. Boone, would be taken to hell."

With that the dark creatures tore open the earth

And grabbed him, though he fought for all he was worth.

They took Jeremy with them, a long journey down.

His screams could be heard on the far end of town.

A marker is all that remains to this day.

Each autumn we bring the kids here and we say

That each of us fits in the puzzle some way.

To bully and torment is never ok.

Be respectful to others and glad they’re unique.

They might have a talent you’ll need when you’re weak.

If you choose to be callous and vicious and frown,

The shadows will find you and escort you down.

LUNACY

Chapter 1

Among other things, the air smelled of new sweat. It was an odd scent he hadn’t encountered before. Whatever the source, it stayed in the distance, but the sweet stench grew stronger with each passing moment. It was getting closer. He splashed all four of his paws through the shallow part of the stream where it had slowed to a trickle and into the trees beyond. There Gray found shade in a better vantage point.

It was not the part of the stream to which his kind normally came. There was a bend on the north side of the woods where they usually took to the water, but that day he’d felt like exploring. His mate had wandered off long ago, headed back to the pack. He’d sniffed and investigated far beyond their normal range and wanted to get back to her, but his interest was piqued.

Just then, something moved in the water. It may have been a bird stalking a minnow or a small animal rushing back to its den. The noise only held his attention momentarily before he was back to the unfamiliar scent. His eyes darted from place to place, then back to the direction of the odor, keeping watch on the hillside for whatever might be coming along. Gray lay down amongst the brush and dead leaves for a moment, deciding to scout from a hidden place.

There were noises to go along with the smells. Sounds he also did not recognize. Chirping and cooing sounds in call and response. The pitches ranged from low to high but were always calm. They filled him with joy and wonder. They were happy, playful sounds, like those the pups made in between naps. He shifted, ears dancing to catch them all. Then he stood and walked to the edge of the trees hoping for a glance at their source.

Turning his ears, Gray studied the air. The noises had become rhythmic and melodic. Songs like those of the birds that lived in his pack’s part of the land. These were followed by more of the joyful sounds. He had the urge to rush over the hill and greet the strangers, but instinct and better judgment kept him secure in the woods. He was charged with the safety of the others and night had begun to fall.

Cool breezes blew through the trees as the sun settled. The noises from the distance grew muffled and sparse and became overpowered by the crickets and the frogs. It was late and he needed to get back. His mate would be glad to see him.

..ooOOoo..

The next morning, Gray stood tall and watched as the pack roused. Once he’d made his rounds, checking on the rest, he wandered toward the edge of the woods and to the stream, looking back time and again to make sure none followed. If danger presented, he didn’t want to draw it back to the pack and place its members in danger. The other wolves went on about their morning rituals, all except the blue one.

Blue’s fur was thick and so dark it shone brilliant indigo in bright sunlight. He would lead the pack one day, but not that day. Blue was still young and foolish and Gray knew he was watching to see how to lead, or perhaps watching for a weakness he might challenge.

Once confident he wasn’t followed, Gray picked up his pace, zigging this way and that over roots and under fallen tree trunks. Leaves and twigs cracked underneath the giant padded paws. Minutes later, he reached the large clearing where the stream flowed gently. Beyond it was a vast open place, a scar in the wooded landscape. He caught the faint scent of the strange things he had experienced the night before, but this time, when he reached the edge of the woods, he saw them as well. Beautiful creatures with bronze furless skin that stood upright on two limbs. There were three of them, a small pack of their own. One male, one female and a tiny one that the mother washed in the water. The cooing and chirping was as he had pictured, the way his mate played with their pups.

Gray was mesmerized watching, but careful to stay out of sight. He watched the female feed the small one from her breast, again as his mate had fed their pups. She held the tiny one close and sang to it. The largest of the three prepared some manner of small animal and when he was done, mother and father ate.

The gray wolf licked his black rubbery lips and continued to spy on his discovery. Interest in their appearance and rituals grew into fondness and before he knew it, the sun was high in the sky.

Chapter 2

Jason snapped out of his trance and sat up startled. No one else noticed him in the sweaty training-slash-lunchroom. The large meeting table served only to keep seven drowsy heads from crashing into the floor. He stared at its Formica surface while a balding manager droned on about sexual harassment or whatever the topic was that week. His colleagues to the left and right were equally invested in their daydreams. One, an older man who served more as a greeter than a salesman, snored lightly.

Jason was restless and it was time to move on. Staying in one place too long had become dangerous for those around him, so he moved every nine to twelve months. The intensity of his condition increased through spring and summer, culminating in the fall, and then diminishing in the winter months. Jason equated it with hibernation, although the changes came with each new moon.

He’d had the same dreams about the wolf pack and the Native family ever since he was thirteen. The first dream came after his first feeding. It was not a diet he was proud of. Rats, small wildlife, sometimes farm animals and lately, people. He tried raw meat from the store, but it only satisfied his hunger temporarily, and may have made him more violent when he finally gave in.

Somehow he knew the visions were connected to his condition but could never get past the feeling of obsession. The wolf always watched the young family and then grew attached to them. After that, his dreams became a blank canvas for him to fill with speculation. In the wildest versions, he became one of them. In his darkest, he fed on the woman. The darker visions came when he was changing. Crazed, abstract images with moments of depraved clarity.

Over the past twelve years, Jason had become used to his solitary existence. Still, each new place brought him to a breaking point and he needed to move on. Deep down he thought he might like to feed on those who bored him, opposed him, those who got to live normal lives. He resented them all, but his jealousy came with hope that he might one day be rid of the curse as quickly as he had acquired it.

He smacked his palm on the conference table and walked out of the meeting.

Jason? the manager called after him. Jason?

He ignored it, grinning and dropping his nametag on the floor of the retail box store. ‘Assistant Manager’ it said. Ass Man is what his team called him. He would miss that, but he walked out the door as he’d done so many other times and resolved never to look back.

The sun comforted him as he walked the short distance from work to his apartment. Jason looked at his short shadow in the morning light and stopped for a moment to hold his hands up, making his shadow look like he had big, toothy jaws. He growled at the image on the sidewalk and then laughed to himself.

A quick jiggle of the key and the lock tumbled. He shoved the door open and looked around at his meager furnishings. A futon and a small television sitting on top of a cardboard box stared back. Several thousand dollars in twenty and fifty dollar bills were stashed in his closet. He gathered them quickly and then stuffed the money and his clothes into a large duffel bag.

A box of envelopes sat on the kitchen