Madman
Michael Wolfe

 

He stalked the halls in silence, up and down the corridors of the musty prison.

Deep in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, this maximum-security penitentiary held some of the most vicious criminals known to the United States. One of them was Jack Danson, a psychopathic genius who was master of mind control. Jack was not only a master of mind control, but he was also a fluent out-of-body traveler. Jack was only twenty-eight, but seven years in prison made him look much older.

He had murdered fourteen teenagers in numerous ways seven years before in a small Minnesota farm town. He was what doctors called a missionary killer. He believed all teenagers were evil and he believed it was his God given duty to kill them.

He came to his cell and floated through the steel door. He coldly peered at his body, which sat limp in a chair in the far-left corner of the room. For a second, he paused, and stared with the emotionless eyes of his dark soul. Then he reluctantly entered back into his currently lifeless soul vehicle.

Jack's eyes opened abruptly as his soul re-entered his body. He slowly rose from his chair and stretched his arms skyward. He extended his fingers and cracked his arthritic knuckles. Jack peered out towards his twisted window. The window in his cell was formed in a way so that light could enter, but the outside sky could not be seen. It was night. What time, Jack was not sure.

Jack's room was all steel and it was round. There was a small sink, but there was a water timer so Jack could not flood the room and kill himself. There was also a computer, and access to the Web, but Jack was very restricted and could not enter residential chat rooms or anything of that nature.

All of a sudden, Jack became aware of a presence outside his door. The night watchman was there to guard Jack's cell.

Jack gently sat down on his bed and closed his eyes. He concentrated hard on the guard standing outside the door as his eyelids locked.

Mike Arnold was a 21 year-old rookie. He hated doing the night watch of Jack Danson's cell. He always felt something… eerie, almost supernatural about standing there all night. Despite the fact that there was a thick steel door separating them, Mike almost felt as if Jack was watching him in the darkness of the musty halls. On some nights while guarding the cell, Mike had seen shadows dart across the wall and into Jack's room. The word among the prison guards was that Jack had sold his soul to the devil, and the shadows were Satan himself, coming to visit Jack. What they didn't know was that the shadow was actually Jack's soul, stalking the prison corridors from dusk till dawn while his body slept.

Suddenly, Mike's thoughts were broken and he began hearing a voice in his head.

"Open the door, he's dead," whispered the evil, menacing voice.

Mike shook his head in fear and tried to clear his mind. It was just his mind playing mean tricks on him again.

The voice beckoned him again, louder this time.

"Open the cell, he's just a corpse now!"

Mike shook his head again, but then he reached for the door… he hesitated.

"Do it, now!"

Mike pulled out his gun and put his right pointer finger on the entrance panel. He was not sure why he was doing this, but it was almost as if someone… or something, for that matter was forcing him to do so. The keypad electronically read his fingerprints.

"Access approved," announced a computerized voice.

The steel door quickly unbolted and opened.

Mike cautiously stepped into the cell with his gun drawn and his finger ready to squeeze.

Jack lay limp on the floor of the cell with his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling of the cell.

"Oh my God"

Jack's soul silently floated out of the cell and messed with the inside entrance pad for a second. The door slammed shut with a loud bang.

Mike fearfully spun around with the gun pointing at the door.

A burst of air and an eerie pink light entered the room through the closed cell door.

Mike began to shake. He pulled the trigger and fired at the pink light. Nothing happened. Without warning, the pink light rose to the ceiling and burst down upon Mike. He didn't even have time to scream.

In an instant he found his spiritual half being pulled through the cell and into the corpse of Jack Danson. A cold tingling sensation surrounded him.

His eyes opened. For a second, he thought it might have been a dream, but then he realized he was in a body, but not his, because he saw himself, Mike Arnold, standing over him with a drawn gun.

Jack, now in Mike's body, walked over to the exit pad near the door and put his finger upon it.

"Access approved."

The door opened.

Jack handed the gun to Mike, and then he burst out of Mike's body and re-entered his own. Mike felt the same sensation as before and he found himself back in his own body.

Mike climbed to his feet and tried to run for the door. Jack slammed him against the side of the cell and held the gun to his head.

"Strip and give me all your clothes."

"What?"

"You heard me."

Mike stripped down to his boxers and he laid his police clothes on the ground. Jack carefully put them on. He never took the barrel out of Mike's face.

He tossed his sweaty prison clothes to Mike.

"Wear these."

He started towards the open door. Suddenly he turned and spoke with an evil glint in his eye.

"Oh yes, one more thing."

He walked back over to Mike, who sat against the wall shivering in shock. Jack searched around the pockets of his police pants. He found what he was looking for.

"Put out your hand, guard."

Mike reached out his left hand.

"The other one!" commanded Jack.

Mike reluctantly extended his right arm.

Jack took a dirty, white cloth from his pants and shoved it in Mike's mouth. Then he showed Mike the blade of regulation knife all the security guards carried. It glistened from the cell light.

Mike's eyes widened in fear and the purple veins in his neck bulged. He tried to pull his hand back, but Jack slammed it to the ground and put the knife to the sweaty wrist. He began to slowly move the knife back and forth. The knife painfully ground through the upper layers of Mike's flesh. An unbearable pain engulfed Mike. He passed out from the tremendous feeling. Jack moved the knife through the main arteries of the wrist. He pushed the blade halfway through the bone. Then, without a moment of hesitation, Jack swiftly rose the knife and brought it down full force on Mike's wrist. Mike's hand dismembered from his arm. Jack picked up the hand. He pulled the cloth out of Mike's mouth and quickly tied it over the bleeding wrist.

"Take it easy buddy, I don't want anymore murder charges than I have to," he muttered.

He mockingly waved it at the passed out body lying passed out on the cold, steel floor.

"Thanks a bunch."

Jack walked out the door and into the dark corridor. He could not close the door as he had before, for he was no longer in just his spiritual form. He took Mike's cold hand and placed the pointer finger on the pad. He pressed a few buttons. The door shut, sealing an unconscious Mike inside. Jack shoved the hand into his right coat pocket and continued down the hall. He reached the door to the next corridor. He knew there was a guard on the other side of the door. He would surely notice Mike's hand when the door instantly opened. Jack paused in thought for a moment. His eyes lit up like a match.

Jack stepped aside and pulled the hand out of his pocket. He put the pointer finger in his mouth and bit down as hard as his jaw would allow him to. He heard the sickening crack of a bone snapping and his teeth almost broke. He could taste the sour tissue and blood of Mike's hand in his mouth. Jack pulled hard on the hand. The remaining tissue holding the finger to the knuckle tore in an instant.

Jack tossed the hand down the other end of the hallway. Then he swallowed let the blood and tissue flow down his throat.

He put the finger up to the pad. The door opened.

A chubby armed guard stood facing Jack.

"I'm not feeling well right now," said Jack with his eyes peering at the ground, "I'll be back in a minute."

"OK," said the guard, "I'll keep an eye on the area until you get back."

Jack continued down the hallway and he came to an elevator. He repeated the finger-to-pad process over again and the elevator door opened. Jack walked into the elevator and pressed the button for floor one. He was on the top floor, twenty-three.

The elevator descended downward past the middle floors.

Jack knew he had to hurry. The eleven-o-clock, room-to-room camera check had started, and his room would soon be checked.

Down in the basement level of the prison, a bored officer stared at the monitor in front of him.

"Two-twenty-one, two-twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-fi… Oh god!"

The officer had spilled coffee all over his lap. He looked down and grabbed a napkin to clean it up. Just as he looked down, room 237 passed by on the monitor. Had the guard been watching the screen, he would have seen Mike Arnold lying on the floor unconscious.

Up on floor twenty-two, the guard realized the night watchman was taking a long while. He became very suspicious and he decided to do a routine check of the floor. As he opened the door and began to walk down the hallway, a still wet bloodstain on the floor caught his attention. He looked sideways at the entrance pad and saw that it was also smeared with fresh blood. He drew his gun and raced down the hallway.

Suddenly, something else caught his attention. A four-fingered hand lay bloody on the floor of the hallway. The guard gasped and swallowed hard. He looked up. The entrance pad to the room beside him was filled with blood. One look at the number told him whose room it was. Jack Danson's room.

Alarms began ringing throughout the building. Jack was already driving a police car out the main gate of the prison. He heard the sirens. They had noticed he was gone. Jack shoved the gas pedal to the floor. If they realized that he had taken a car, they would raise the bridge. Jack could see it about a mile ahead. It crossed from one large hill to another. There was no other way to cross off the mountain other than this. Then without warning it slowly began to rise.

"Damn"

Jack drove up to the edge of the bridge and got out of the car. He angrily ran over to the edge of the road and concentrated hard on the car. Using his incredible mind power, he pushed down the gas pedal. The car sped off the bridge, shot into the dark night air, and plunged into the rocks below. It smashed into the ground and soon became nothing more than a raging orange inferno.

Jack sprinted into the darkness.

The police would be in the woods soon.

Josh Olson and his new girlfriend, Laura Miller, were passionately making out in the back seat of his brand new BMW.

Josh could taste mint breath drops on Laura's tongue as he kissed her. He put his arms around her slim waist and gently squeezed.

Jack approached the steamed up BMW with caution. As he got closer, he could see a couple making out inside. An oncoming light made him glance up. A police car was quickly approaching ahead. Jack concentrated on the trunk and it popped open with a click.

Josh was too caught up in the pleasure of kissing to notice the trunk or the police car.

The trunk slammed shut.

Josh sat up straight, startled. He saw the police car come to a stop up ahead. He wiped the sweat off his flushed face and nudged Laura.

"It's the police."

Josh and Laura climbed back to the front seats.

A police officer approached the car with his gun drawn. He tapped on the window. Josh rolled it down and opened his mouth to explain.

The police officer put out his hand and stopped him.

"I have more important things to worry about than you two. I need you to leave immediately. It's too dangerous for you to be up here."

"But…"

"Just leave, they'll search you down below."

Josh put his foot down and the BMW sped off. The couple drove down to the base of the hill and came to a barricade. Two armored officers slowly approached the car.

Josh rolled down the window.

"An officer stopped us up there and sent us down."

A woman officer nodded and shined a flashlight into the back seat of the car.

"Get out of the car, sir."

She looked at Laura.

"You too, honey…what were you kids doing up there?"

"Just talking," replied a nervous Josh as he opened his door.

"Yeah right…"

Josh and Laura stepped out of the car.

"I'm not drunk or anything, officer."

"I know, but we need to search your car."

"I'm clean officer, I don't do drugs, either."

The officer shined her light into the back seat of the car again.

"Nothing."

She turned to the other officers.

"They're clear, let 'em go."

She rose her hand to signal the guard to let them through.

In the muggy darkness of the trunk, Jack let out a thin smile as the car burst out into the free world.

Josh's car sped back out of the mountains and towards the town of Brownsville.

Josh turned to Laura.

"I wonder what that was all about, I thought they'd at least give us a ticket."

Laura gave him a funny look.

"You're not going to file a complaint to the D.A. or anything, are you?"

Josh smiled.

"Guess not."

He looked down at the dash.

"Shoot."

"What?" asked Laura.

"My trunk's open."

"Your pants look zipped to me."

"The car trunk, Laura," said Josh in an irritated voice.

Josh pulled over and stopped the car.

"Be careful," said Laura.

"Of what."

Before Laura could reply, Josh got out of the car to inspect the trunk. He was back in a moment.

"Nothing, must have just popped open or something."

Josh pulled back out onto the road and began driving again.

They drove for a few moments of silence.

"Turn around," said Laura.

"What?!"

"I thought I saw someone."

Josh shook his head in slight anger and did an annoyed u-turn and drove the mile back to where they had stopped to check the trunk.

Josh stopped the car and peered out the window.

He motioned to Laura and pointed outside.

"Look, nothing's there."

Laura pointed to a shadow moving towards the car.

"What's that."

Josh got ready to drive away, but the man began pounding on Josh's passenger window. The man was Jack.

"Open the window!! Please!!!" screamed a terrified Jack.

Josh opened the window just a crack.

"It's me, Laura!!" yelled the man.

"What!?"

Josh turned to look at Laura. She was gone.

The man continued violently pounding on the window. Josh rolled it all the way up. He was engulfed in fear.

A shadow in his mirror caught his attention.

He turned around just as Laura brought the hard part of a spare tire down full force upon his head.

Jack screamed and began running from the car. Laura opened the back door and got out. She didn't even bother to chase Jack.

Jack's soul left her body with a whirl of wind and race back towards his own body. He entered back into himself and he felt another burst of air as Laura's spirit was extinguished from his body back into her own.

Trying to overcome her shock, Laura raced back towards the car. Jack sprinted after her.

She jumped into the driver's seat of the BMW and pushed an unconscious Josh into the passenger side.

She pushed the lock button and tried to turn the key to speed away in the car. Suddenly the doors unlocked. An icy hand clamped down upon her thin wrist.

Laura looked up into Jack Danson's eerie eyes.

"Who are you?"

Jack nodded at her with a smirk on his face and then he grabbed her neck.

"I'd kill you if I had the time."

With that, he opened her driver's door and viciously grabbed her by her long bleached blond hair.

He violently slammed her forehead into the dashboard and knocked her out cold. Blood trickled down her forehead. He then shoved Laura out onto the road. He slammed the door shut and turned the car keys in the ignition. The car started up again and with a step on the pedal, the car sped off into the darkness of the night, away from his newest victims. Jack smiled as he drove. He had felt such a rush of adrenaline, and he hadn't even killed anyone yet. But the time would soon come for that… besides, it was only the very beginning…

 

 

Copyright � 1999 Michael Wolfe
Published on the World Wide Web by "www.storymania.com"