|
|
|
The Castle of InsanityThis story may contain adult content. |
| Written by Max Booth III | |
| Friday, 20 June 2008 | |
 The Castle of Insanity "I have never seen a greater monster or miracle in the world than myself." ---Michel de Montaigne
It's Halloween night again and I find myself sitting alone in my castle at the top of the hill. My black cat sleeps in my lap and my glass eye rests on the nightstand beside my rocking chair. My remaining good eye focuses on the blazing inferno inside my fireplace. This is the only part of the castle where I can think clearly. I try to block out the memories of the previous Halloweens, but the picture is in such good focus in my mind that it is hard to ignore. Last year the folks at the bottom of the hill marched to my castle with their stupid little flaming torches. They called me a monster, a tyrant. They said I did unspeakable acts of true evil in this castle, this castle of insanity. They said I had created my own personal Frankenstein, but it is I who has the bolts in his neck. Hey, don't look so disgusted like that! It isn't anything scary or anything, the bolts just keep my head on my shoulders, you know? Otherwise it would just slide off and roll on the ground. And we wouldn't want that, would we? I mean, anything could happen after your head falls off your shoulders. Like little bratty kids playing soccer with it. Oh, could you imagine the humiliation? Well, anyways, back to last Halloween night. The town's people formed an angry mob and made their way up the graveyard hill, the bastards weren't even polite enough to knock! They had their own homemade battling ram, which they used with ease and destroyed my door. They yelled out my name and demanded my blood. At first I thought they just want me to donate my blood, you know, like for science and stuff. But when I saw the pitchforks and axes in their eager hands I knew better. I looked at them in fear. "Oh my!" I exclaimed. "What are you doing here?" "The Ryans' little girl," the leader of the mob said, "she has disappeared." I wondered, "But what does that have to do with me?" And he answered, "Her death is on your hands, I damn well guarantee!" "But I could never kill somebody," I protested, "nonetheless a child!" "Stop your lies, you beast, we cannot be beguiled." "But I'm not lying, or trying to charm you, Just look at it from my point of view, I absolutely adored that kid, This thought of me killing her, well I utterly forbid!" The mob shouted, "You're excuses have come to an end, Don't you even try to pretend, Its time to punish for you're sins, Now your suffering must begin!"
I ran up the long set of spiral stairs, all the way to the top of my castle. The angry mob had followed all along. I didn't mean to, but I had brought them to my attic. My Attic of Sacrifice, as I like to call it. When they saw the children hanging from hooks, some of them vomited all over the wooden planked floor. "Oh, God, he really is crazy!" "No I'm not! I know I should have buried them, I was just too lazy." "Jesus the smell is repulsive!" "I'm sorry," I said, "my killing is really impulsive." "Prepare the noose!" "No!" I yelled. "Cant we call a truce?" They walked toward me with their pitchforks poking. They said that my life was coming to an end. My reign of terror was over and my suffering in hell was beginning. I was so startled that I didn't see the knife in time to dodge. It plunged into my eye and took it right out of the socket. I was now half blind, and bloody angry. I growled a mighty growl, and snapped the neck of the bastard that took my eyeball. The mob gasped in horror as I pounded my way through with my giant ogre fists. I picked up Father Henry and devoured him whole. I only wished I had a napkin to wipe the guts off my chin. It was okay, though, I licked it off with my foot long lizard's tongue. "He ate the priest, That evil beast! Run, everybody, run!" "Why?" I asked. "The fun has just begun."
I chased them back down the stairs, it was about time they realized the awful mistake they had made. They yelled they were sorry and said they would leave me alone, but I didn't trust their word. I picked up a grave stone and hurled it at a runner, knocking his head off and soaring into the moonlight. Pretty soon I had killed everybody in town. I was alone, the only one alive living in good ole Transylvania. I went back to my Castle and had a puff on my pipe.
That would be the last time they blamed anything on me, In my Castle of Insanity, Nobody would ever spit at me or condescend, That would be the last time they ever called me crazy again. Copyright 2008 Max Booth III |
| < Prev | Next > |
|---|
via Email