IF THIS EVER GETS OUT
STORIES IN A THOUSAND WORDS
BY
DONALD HARRY ROBERTS
1
"I do not believe you get the point and I doubt you ever will because your brain, your mind simply refuses to look beyond what people like yourself consider reality." I said to my accusers from the witness stand. The judge, jury and Crown Attorney. My lawyer rolled his eyes in hopeless retort.
"But I can see it in the eyes of some of you spectators. You know the truth and are glad that I took on the yoke of necessity. Nonetheless you will not openly admit that what I have done is for the good of the human race.
2
Now I will catch you, the reader of this horrifying truth, up on why I was forced before a court to defend my most reasonable actions they seem determined to classify as murder in the first degree. I mean they think I am a mass murderer, but the truth is I have saved all their damned lives and the lives of every human on earth.
It started two years ago when I was abducted and dragged to my impending death, a sacrifice to the Prince Of Evil, whom I thought at the time was a faker named Mr. B. Hobbs.
3
I was subject to a ritual killing but the jury did not believe me. I could see that in their eyes. Truth in this case was not an option. I had killed 12 people who were considered upstanding citizens in the community, which was a small village a few miles northwest of the city. Population 169. The locals called it Festivalville. The town was built around a carnival midway which was configured in a circle surrounding an enormous mansion which I had been taken for the sacrifice.
Let me tell you, I was scared senseless as they tied me down.
4
Before they could finished tying me I lashed out and three of the five trying to hold me down flew across the room. One was impaled by a spike sticking out of the wall. Another managed a broken neck and the third fell into the pit fire. The last I saw of that one he or she was running away. The two remaining of the five stood there in disbelief for a second then charged at me with knives backed up by the remaining seven. I do not know where the leader went to.
I lashed out again, screaming wildly.
5
I was fighting for my life in an insane rage. I don't remember ever being so frightened and angry and maddened, even in battle during the war.
The next thing I knew it was over. Eleven very dead bodies were strewn across the room, most had been stabbed or had broken necks. I could hardly believe what happened.
Finally I managed to pull myself together and, doing the right thing I called the police believing the truth would be my salvation.
Now as I stand here in the witness stand I am figuring my best hope has become to plead insanity.
6
"Are you finished?" The judge broke the silence of the room as we all stood there staring at each other. My lawyer shook his head.
"That's my guest Pal." I answered.
"Then you should step down?" The judge ordered.
I nodded and went to my chair next to my lawyer. He said. "We should change your plea to."
"Don't. I have another plan."
At that I bolted and managed to escape the court room, having caught everyone completely by surprize. My destination. Straight back to Festivalville. I had to find the only man who could clear me Mr. B. Hobbs.
7
I stole a car. A plain grey family minivan no one would pay much attention to. I moved into the traffic going with the flow so I wouldn't draw attention to myself. With any luck at all I would be out of the city before the owner noticed the van missing and the cops figured out what I was up to.
That is exactly how it worked out. I was on the sideroad leading to Festivalville in an hour. I don't know what I thought going there and finding Hobbs would accomplish. He likely wouldn't tell the truth about what happened.
8
At the end of the road I stopped and stared in disbelief. It was all gone, the houses, the carnival, everything except a ram shackled old Victorian manor that had obviously been abandoned for years.
But of course that was impossible. The cops had come there to get me and the ambulances had picked up the corpses.
My mind was spinning out of control. Maybe I am totally insane. Maybe I am a murdering monster and I just made all that hocus pocus devil worship sacrificial baloney up in my head to justify my murder spree. I just stood there.
9
For how long. I don't know, but when I finally did manage to shift myself I saw him. Mr. B. Hobbs, coming down the rickety steps of the porch and walking ever so casually toward me. He was smiling and when he was near he said. "You escaped me but not your own insanity."
I began to shake. "Hobbs. You must return to the city with me and tell the police what really happened. Of course my plea fell on deaf ears....so to speak and Hobbs just stood there laughing. Hideously. I had no idea what I could do next.
10
Hobbs said. "Look. I would help you if I could and I suppose I can if you do what I want you to do."
"My mind reeled. I was actually considering making a deal with the devil. And yes, at that moment I recognized Hobbs for who he really was.
Then something really scared the crap out of me, something that made me make that deal.
People don't want to believe the devil is real. They want maybes and innuendos and I concluded that if this ever gets out.... it'll mean end. The end of everything.
THE END?
Reads like someone who has read too many diabolical mysteries involving Satan. The ending is supposed to titillate, but turned me off.
"I had be taken," should have been I have been taken. There are other errors in wording and punctuation throughout that make it hard to read. My impression is that writing a thousand words means that one either takes shortcuts in writing or writes very fast… Hence, all the errors.
IF THIS EVER GETS OUT
