Free Mischiefmakers: Dark Macabre by Maasi Smith Page B

towel wrapped around him, he cautiously walks out to the front room. At first, he finds it hard to
figure out where the strong gusts of wind are coming from, so
he begins to follow the whistling noise to its origin. As he walks
closer and closer to the dormant fireplace, he realizes that this is
the origin of the wind. The upper air vent has opened, causing
some of the soot to scatter on the thick lightly colored carpet.
Relieved, Silas kneels down and reaches his hand up to try to close
the vent. He stumbles around until he grabs what he thinks is the
handle.
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    “Ouch! Goddamn it!” Cutting his hand on a long rusty nail, he
draws back a bloody finger, but the cold wind forces him to try to
shut the vent again. He reaches up as far as he can, but soot and
other debris fall on his arms and neck.
    Unseen by Silas, a pair of watching eyes glare at his stumbling
arms from the top of the chimney. Looking down, they begin to
travel down the chimney, getting closer to his arms.
    “Damn, where is it?” he grunts. “There’s got to be a handle to
close this fuckin’ thing!”
The eyes get closer, becoming blood-shot, like an animal preparing to sink its teeth into its prey.
“This must be it.” He feels a small knob.
The eyes get closer.
“Hell, this better be it. My arm’s gettin’ tired.”
The eyes descend farther.
“Come on, baby, close for Silas!”
Closer...closer...closer...
Slam! The sound of the closing vent echoes up the chimney.
“Shit, that was a pain in the ass. Look at this,” he complains as
he brushes the ash off his chest. “I got dirt all over me, now I got
to wash my ass all over again.” Walking back to the bathroom, he
removes his towel to try to remove some of the debris from his
hair. Standing in front of the mirror, he does not see the watchful eyes spy on him from around the corner. The eyes stare at his
nude body with mischievous intentions, then they begin to glow.
They have decided that the mischief shall begin.
“Shit, my stomach’s gettin’ hot. Damn! I shouldn’t have wolfed
down that bird so fast, now I got cramps.” Silas bends over, holding his stomach. Looking down, he notices a small drop of blood
drip from his belly button onto the white tiled floor. Before he
can stand, another drip quickly follows, another, then another. He
then covers his belly to stop the bleeding.
“What the hell is goin’ on? Why am I bleedin’?!” As he ques-
tions this unnatural occurrence, his hand begins to throb, then
to overflow with blood that pours onto the floor. Pain quickly
diverts Silas’ attention; his head feels as if it will explode any second. He grabs it and screams as his ears begin dripping crimson.
Blood spatters the white floor and Silas’ feet. His naked body is
soon covered with the red liquid, which begins to flow out of his
eyes and mouth. Choking on his own blood, he grabs his throat
instinctively. He wants to stop it. He wants to clear his throat, but
more and more blood bubbles out. He then turns and begins to
stumble out of the bathroom. His feet slip on the bloody puddles.
He slides into the wall, slams his head, and drops clumsily onto
the floor. Dazed, Silas gets up, dragging himself to the door.
The angel of darkness stops his progress. The black raven
stands in the doorway, proud and arrogant. Though it’s a monstrous figure, Silas is in too much pain and agony to think clearly
or be frightened by anything. Grasping his throat, vomiting blood
and half-digested vegetables, he steps over the large bird, whimpering in pain. The unscrupulous animal quickly snatches Silas’
manhood.
Silas screams. He cries out, watching the blood from his chok-
ing mouth splatter the ceiling.
Streams of blood pouring from where his groin and body orifices were, Silas staggers against the wall. He stands there, staring
down in horror at himself. Then he shrieks and collapses.
The black raven wiggles the human genitals