"The Big Red Machine"

A Story by Richard Edwards

“The Big Red Machine”

By Richard Edwards

6:45 the digital clock read as the extremely annoying rooster alarm clock assaulted Tim's ear drums. Tim woke up alone as he did nearly every morning in the bed he and his late wife Mary slept in together prior to the accident. Mary died nearly six months ago although it felt as if they got married just yesterday. Tim was a thirty-nine year old going on forty years old. He had short grayish black colored hair and he was six feet tall even. He was just slightly overweight and had an orange colored spry on tan.

He pushed the snooze button on the alarm clock with great force and then rose from the bed. He whipped the yellowish eye crisps from his eyes and whipped his hands on the bed sheets. He stepped onto the floor and walked into the bathroom to begin to get ready to go to work.

After stepping into the bathroom, he disrobed and stepped into the shower. He had only fifteen minutes to clock in at the factory although it would take at least fifteen minutes to drive there. He has been late to work nearly every day after Mary's death.

'Look I am sorry about Mary's death Tim I really am! And bro I love you, but I can't protect you anymore. If you are late again you will be fired.'

Tim remembered his little brother, Ronnie, telling him this on the Friday before. Ronnie is thirty five years old and six feet and five inches tall. He had a brown beard and a really sharp hair do. He is the General Manager of the factory where he and his brother have been working their entire professional careers.

Ronnie has been protecting the case of his brother to his bosses, Ed and Jack McMahon, who owned the factory. However, the truth is Tim could not care less if he lost his job. He almost wanted to get fired. The thought of working there the remainder of his life made him sick to his stomach. He despised the McMahon's. They never gave a s**t about their employees or anything else for that matter. They looked at them as if they were just a number or just another spoke on the wheel so to speak. The company’s budget plan for each year was laughable. The employees were extremely lucky to get even a hint of a health plan. Ed and Jack used the cheapest doctors, dentist, etc. To conserve their money.

As bad as Ed and Jack were, there was just something not right about the new partner to the business. His name was Seyton Devilen. Just to hear his name made Tim's skin crawl.

And to be honest, Tim was a tad bitter over his little brother's promotion to the managing position.

'How the hell could he get promoted and not me? I have been working there twice as long and know all of the ins and outs at that God damned place.'

Tim would often think that to himself.

Tim then turned off the water and stepped out of the shower onto the white towel he placed on the white tile floor. He grabbed an additional towel from the towel rack and began to dry off the beads of water running down his slightly over middle aged body.

After drying off, Tim wrapped the white towel around his waist and walked out of the bathroom into his and his late wife Mary's bed room. He plopped down on the bed next to where his under wear and socks lie. He put on his socks and under pants and walked over the tallest dresser in the room. He opened up the bottom drawr and grabbed the top pair of blue jeans out of his dresser. He unfolded them and a yellow notepad paper floated down to the ground. Tim bent over to pick up the little yellow piece of paper. He unfolded the note and began to read it.

Have a great day at work honey!

Your Loving Wife,
Mary
XOXOXO

            Tim began to tear up again as he dropped the note that then floated onto the floor. Tim then placed his hands on his eyes and then whipped the tears away. He then sat down on the bed and put on the light blue colored jeans.
            Then he walked over to the closet and opened it. He reached in grabbing a light blue shirt with a white patch with red letters reading McMahon Bros. on the left side of the chest and Tim Bishop over the right side. He put on the light blue shirt and walked out of the room.
            Tim walked down the stairs and out the door and onto the front porch. Once out side he walked off of the porch to his 1998 Ford F-150 limited edition truck and got in it. He slammed the door and started the engine up to hear the blaring sound of the Bon Jovi song “Because We Can.” He pulled out of the drive way and began to drive down Smith Avenue and then onto the highway.

            7:15 the digital clock read on the dash of the red truck as he pulled into the parking lot of the factory. He noticed that nobody was working. Everyone was standing outside in the car pool lane where a big yellow PENSKE type truck was parked. There was a silver skinny ramp which led down from the back to the truck with some type of big red machine balancing upon it.
            Tim got out of the truck and began to sneak in to clock in before getting noticed.
            After clocking in Tim went into the main working room of the factory where the big red machine sat in the center. He walked over to the machine and gazed upon it. On the right side of it carved in gold were the words Smith Royal. He backed away from the giant machine to begin the working day at his what he described as “a dead end job.”

2
            Tim walked out of the main floor room of the factory into the back locker room where he began to get started for the day. Still with some of the yellow colored crisp in his eyes, he walked to the row of rusted out blue locker on the top. He stopped at the locker that read 1408 and grabbed on the black combination dial lock.
            5-35-20 he spun the black combination dial to open the locker. As the lock opened up he pulled it off of the locker and placed the lock on the black bench behind him. Tim then reached up to grab the silver handle and pulled it upwards triggering a latch which allowed the locker door to swing open. The locker's door banged up against the one beside of it. The locker door bounced off and swung back at Tim hitting him on the right side of his drooped face. Tim backed up with hast rubbing his stinging face.



            Tim thought to himself as he angrily as he grabbed the locker door and slammed the door against the door of the locker beside of it.
            Tim unbuckled the brown leather belt from around the waist of his warn out his blue jeans (with holes in the knees and splatters of paint on them) and pulled them out of the belt loops. He then unfastened the blue jeans and pulled them down to his ankles.
            Tim kicked off his warn out black leather shoes and pulled the jeans off of his legs and placed them up on the black bench. He then bent down and grabbed the leather shoes and threw them angrily and frustratingly into the rusted and dented blue locker.
            Tim then pulled off his dirty stained NASCAR Winston Cup Series 1994 Season shirt featuring Dale Earnhardt on the back, which he was wearing under his light blue uniform shirt and threw it into the locker. He put the light blue uniform shirt back on and grabbed the long slaved uniform shirt, which he had to wear for safety purposes, and placed it over the light blue uniform shirt. He then grabbed a dark blue pair of matching pants and pulled them up over his underpants.
            Tim then reached down and grabbed a pair of steel toed boots and placed them on his feet. He laced them up and tied them and then grabbed a red hard hat from the locker with brown leather gloves, ear muffs, and safety goggles and put them on.
            Tim stood up off of the bench and walked out of the locker room into the factory to begin working.

            He walked into the main working room of the factory and into the echo of the defining sound of roaring machines. Tim then walked over to one of older experienced machines in the factory.
            Tim then began to work on one of those older machines when he heard a spine tingling scream from a woman in distress and extreme pain. The murderous screams ran throughout the factory.
            Tim immediately stooped stopped working on the veteran machine and began running towards the center of the factory where the new machine called 'BIG RED' sat.
            As he approached the front of the BIG RED MACHINE he saw Bertha, an elderly veteran of the factory, crying with her arm being fed the devilish monster of a machine.
            Tim sprinted forward to grabbed Bertha's hips and proceeds to pull her, and what was left of her arm, from the machine. As he pulled her from the machine her arm was completely detached from her solder. The demon machine then swallowed the arm of the poor old woman splattering blood on everything near.
            “Somebody get a God damn doctor!” Tim yelled to his co-workers with stress as he carried Bertha on his abdomen. Mr. Devilan, the evil new partner, walked from his office using his cane with a silver cobra head as the handle them on top of it. Mr. Devilan was the newest co-owner of the McMahon Brother's Company and the man who bought the big red monster.
            “God damn son of a b***h!” Devilan said to himself angrily while limping towards the stair case. He was a prehistorically and old man. He looked as if he should have died more than a decade ago. His age was unknown. His entire name was Satan Melvin Devilan. The old man was five feet tall and had really long finger nails that measured at least an inch long from the tip of his finger.
            His point of origin is also unknown. He angrily strutted down the steps to the main floor of the factory. He then walked up to Tim and glared into his eyes angrily. Their noses slightly touched as the old man continued to stare Tim down.
            “What the f**k happened here?” Dr. Devilan screamed at Tim. Tim pulled away and looked at him with disgust.
            “Uh, sir, Bertha's arm was completely ripped off by this demonic machine! We just called the paramedics.” Tim said. Devilan paused to examine the wound of Bertha. He lifted his head.
            “She looks fine now get back to f*****g work!” Devilan said as he turned around and began walking back up the stair case to his office.
            “But sir...” Tim began prior to being interrupted by Devilan.
            “But nothing! Get back to f*****g work! All of you! NOW!!!” Devilan yelled as he walked up the stair case back to his office.

           Tim picked up Bertha from the floor and took her outside to load her into the ambulance, which just arrived. The paramedics then loaded her up and took her to the Emergency Room.

            Bertha was later pronounced dead due to significance blood loss.

3
            '6:30' the digital clock on Tim's night stand beside the bed read as the telephone beside of it began to light up in orange and ring “The Star Spangled Banner.” Tim groaned with exhaustion and grabbed the telephone and pushed the silver button in the center with the words 'TALK' lightning up in orange.
            “Hello?” Tim said once again in a tired tone of voice. Tim was not in the right mind as you almost never are getting up early.
            “Hey Timmy, its Ronnie!” his younger brother Ron said on the other end of the line. Tim was not all too happy to hear his brother's voice. Ever since Mary died he and his brother haven't talked unless it was about the business. Tim tried to avoid his younger brother at all cost. It was his way of dealing with the pain of the death of his beloved wife Mary.
            “Hey Ron, what's going on?” Tim asked his brother desperately wanting to go back to sleep. Ronnie then paused for a second on the line.
            “Look Timmy, you don't have to come in to work today!” Ronnie said to his brother. “The police are going to investigate and try to find out exactly what happened here at the factory and what the situation is with Big Red.” Ronnie added.
            Tim sighed with relief now knowing he can stay in bed the remainder of the day and drink that bottle of Jack Daniels which was calling his name in his refrigerator. He was thrilled with the news because he knew the investigations could possibly take weeks and possibly even months.
            “Okay man thanks for letting me know good bye.” Timmy said in a hurry to hang up so he could get back to what was in his mind, a never ending nap.
            “Now hold on a minute!” Ronnie said with desperation and started to speak to his older brother. “Are you okay?” Ronnie asked him with a concerned voice.
            “Yeah I'm fine, look I am late for my doctor's appointment!” Tim said to his younger brother Ronnie as he prepared to hang up the phone.
            “Really? With whom? And what for?” Ronnie continued ask questions with concern and then again with doubt knowing Tim did not take a personal day for the day.
            “With Doctor Sleep!” Tim said slamming the phone back on the receiver not wanting to talk anymore. Tim laid back down on the bed, pulled up the covers, and proceeds to nap.

            Meanwhile at the factory after the phone call with his brother, Ronnie walked out of his office and down the stair case to the Big Red Machine. He paused for a moment and looked at the Big Red Monster.
            It was strange. He was mesmerized by the blood red colored glow from the teeth within the machine. It seemed really attractive to him as he gazed fascinated at the red glow in the machine. He almost wanted to be in there with what was left of Bertha's arm.

            'KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK!'
            Ronnie heard the pecking from the front door of the factory now no longer paying attention to the Big Red Monster.
            “It's the police! Open up!” a local officer named Pete Bachman was at the front door.
            “Coming!” Ronnie yelled at the officer at the door looking back at the machine for a moment. The machine was no longer glowing red and seemed rather unappealing. He turned facing the door and went to open it.
            “Good evening Officer Bachman!” said Ronnie in a cheerful mood welcoming in the police officer.
            “Thanks Ron!” Officer Bachman said. “Is this the machine?” he added to the previous question pointed to Big Red. Ronnie then nodded and motioned to the machine.
            “Yep sure is! There is something weird going on with the machine. It's like if you stare into its teeth...” Ronnie started prior to being interrupted by the grouchy Mr. Devilen.
           “Ronnie, my dear boy, why don't you take the rest of the day off and let me and Officer Bachman chat!” Mr. Devilen said as he limped down the stair case with his Cain with the silver head of a cobra on it and grabbed Ronnie while pushing him out the door. Once Ronnie was out the door he turned to the young officer on the job and smiled.
            “Mr. Devilen, can you tell me exactly what had happened the day Bertha died?” Officer Bachman asked thus beginning the investigation. Mr. Devilen grinned again creepily and walked over to Officer Bachman grabbed him by the shoulder to face the machine.
            “Look!” Mr. Devilen yelled as he pointed his index finger towards the razor sharp teeth of the beast. The mouth of the machine began to glow red and the machine began grinding the teeth as if it was ready for a nice nutritious meal. Officer gazed into the teeth of the Big Red Monster as if he was hypnotized.
            After a few moments of stareing Mr. Devilen shoved Officer Bachman into the roaring machine.
            “Eat my child! EAT!!!” Mr. Devilen screamed at the top of his lungs and while raising his hands as the lightning and thunder clapped outside with a thunder storm going on but only above the factory. Mr. Devilen grabbed the clip board that Officer Bachman was holding prior to being eaten by the beast and put a check mark through the box that read 'Ready to Reopen.'

4
            The next morning, the alarm clock that was sitting on Tim's night stand beside of his bed read '6:00'. There were now multiple Jack Daniels bottles on the hard wood floor of Tim's bed room. Tim lied there on his stomach with his head at the foot of the bed and his left leg dangling from the side of the bed.

            'RING! RING! RING!'

            The silver and black telephone with the orange screen lightning up from the night stand sounded. The sound of the telephone startled Tim as he kicked two more Jack Daniels bottles onto the hard wood floor making a clinging sound as it hit and bounced a couple of times.
            Tim placed his left foot on the floor and pushed himself up. He wiped the drool from his mouth and wiped it on his bed sheets which have not been washed since the death of his beloved wife Mary. He sat upon his bed with his back up against the head board of the bed. He grabbed the silver and black telephone and pushed the silver button in the center with the word 'TALK' glowing in orange.
            “Hello?” Tim asked into the speaker of the phone still kind of buzzed from the night before. This was in the middle of what he thought was quite possibly the worst hang over of his life. Tim expected to be away from work for at least two months so he decided to sleep and drink all day the previous day.
            “Hey Tim its Ronnie!” Ronnie said to his older brother with enthusiasm. “The most unbelievable thing just happened! He has already been approved to reopen today!” Ronnie said with excitement as he was ready and willing to go back to work that day.
            “UUUHHHHH!” Tim groaned with despair and disappointment.
            “I know, I know! You were looking forward to some time off I was too. However that does not defeat the fact that we reopen today!” Ronnie explained to Tim. “Now you have to be at work at the same time as always. You need to clock in at seven O’clock!” Ronnie added to his speech. Timmy groaned again with desperation. “And Timmy, take it easy on the drinking will you?” Tim nodded and hung up the telephone and stood up from his bed.
            He walked into the bathroom within the bed room of his and his dead wife Mary. He opened the shower curtain and plunged the drain in the bath tub and turned the water handle to the left releasing the hot water. He pulled down his boxers and pulled off his stained with whiskey whitish yellow T-shirt. He climbed into the bath tub and placed a hot rag on his face in an attempt to sober him up.

            Meanwhile at the factory Mr. Devilen was talking to his beast. He raised his hands and formed the okay symbol sign language.
            “You will be fed soon my darling! Real soon!” Mr. Devilen said as he looked up at his and Ronnie's office. “Ronnie will you come down here a moment?” Mr. Devilen yelled. Ronnie nodded and stood up from his desk and walked out of the office door. He walked down the metal stair case and approached his boss Mr. Devilen.
            “You wanted me Mr. Devilen?” Ronnie asked confused. Mr. Devilen nodded as he pointed to the teeth of Big Red without saying a word. Ronnie looked into the now glowing red teeth of the machine. Ronnie's mouth dropped wide open and he just gazed at the evil teeth of The Big Red Monster.

            Tim just arrived in the parking lot parking his red Ford F-150. He leaped out of the truck onto the pavement and locked to door of his truck behind him. Tim began to walk towards the factory. Once when he was in he saw his little brother Ronnie staring into the teeth with Mr. Devilen.
            “Ronnie!” Tim shouted with concern standing in the door way trying to get his brother's attention. Ronnie looked towards the door which broke the trance with the machine.
            “No!” Mr. Devilen yelled with an evil Vince McMahon style voice as he grabbed the hand of Ronnie and placed it into the teeth of the machine.
            “AAAGGGHHH!” Ronnie yelled as the machine began to feast on the rich red blood and the hand of Tim's little brother.
            “Ronnie!” Tim yelled as he ran over and pulled Ronnie from the machine. “What the hell is the matter with you sick son of a b***h!!!???” Tim screamed to Mr. Devilen as he hugged Ronnie with comfort.
            Ronnie's hand was badly injured as the machine began to carve the skin off of the hand of Ronnie. The machine chopped off the upper tip of Ronnie's middle finger and feasted on it. Ronnie grabbed his hand in pain.
            Tim grabbed his cellular phone and called 911 and helped Ronnie walk outside to get as far away from Mr. Devilen as possible. Ronnie and Timmy awaited the ambulance to arrive as Mr. Devilen wobbled up the stair case in defeat.

            “The one God damn mother f*****g time that stupid b*****d is actually early for work!” Mr. Devilen said as he walked back into his office and slammed the door with force behind him.

5
            “What the f**k was that?” Ronnie yelled as he sat in the waiting room while holding his bleeding hand at the Betsy Medical Center. Ronnie's patients were being tested as the doctors were taking their sweet time as usual. A lot of doctors seem to never be in a hurry, but if you are late to your appointment, they all s**t bricks!
            Ronnie began to tap his fingers in rhythm on his knees impatiently. Tim looked up down at his younger brother while helping to provide pressure to his injured and blood covered arm and hand. He shrugged his shoulders as if he wasn't sure what to say.
            The truth is he didn't know what to say. He didn't know what to think either. He just sat there in complete and total silence. The only thing he could think of was that the incident was not an accident.

            'Judging by the way Mr. Devilen was chanting towards the machine, this was        on purpose.' Tim thought to himself quietly.

            “What the f**k is taking so God damn long?” Ronnie shouted to the secretary who was wearing a white nurse’s shirt and way too many layers of cherry red lip stick. She had dark brown hair and also had very pale colored skin. She was painting her finger nails while talking the local gossip on the black telephone rather than doing the unthinkable and actually doing her job. Ronnie stood up and walked over to the desk where the woman was sitting.
            “NO WAY! NOW WAY! NO SHE DIDN'T!” the annoying woman said talking nonsense into the telephone. Ronnie cleared his throat and waited for a response from the woman. Nothing. He raised his hand that was not injured and placed it on the silver service bell on the desk. He pushed down the button repeatedly attempting to gain her attention.
            She looked up at him and rolled her eyes in an annoyed way. She placed her hand on the end of the phone in which she talked into and pulled the phone away from her face.
            “Uhhh, do you mind? I AM TRYING TO TALK ON THE PHONE!” The woman said slowly as if Ronnie was retarded. The tone of her voice and the way in which she said that truly pissed Ronnie off beyond belief. He picked up the bell on the desk and slammed it back down bending the metal it was made of.
            “Now listen here you God damn self absorbed miserable little b***h! You NEED to shut that mouth of yours and get me back there to see the doctor before I f*****g bleed to death!” Ronnie screamed to the top of his lugs at the woman with frustration. The woman slammed the black phone down on the receiver and placed her hands over her breast as if offended. She stood up from the black chair wiping a tear from her eye and walked to the back to get the doctor.

            After leaving the Emergency Room Tim drove Ronnie home to get some rest.

            After dropping Ronnie off Tim decided to drive to the factory to do some investigating of his own of the cause of his brother's injury. He just could not shake the feeling that something was wrong about Mr. Devilen. He remembers the day of the accident and remembers the look in Mr. Devilen's eyes. It resembled that of snake eyes with fire burning within them.
            EVIL! Tim whispered to himself as he continued to drive down the street to the factory. He arrived at the factory and parked his truck and then proceeded to walk inside. Tim walked inside with caution not knowing exactly what to expect or what Mr. Devilen was or even who he was. He reached the bottom floor where the Big Red Machine was located. It was empty. He looked up the metal stairs into Mr. Devilen's office. The lights were off except for a strange red glow that seemed to be coming from the floor. Tim began to quietly walk up the metal stairs and approached the office of Mr. Devilen. He peaked around the corner into the window trying his best to not get noticed. He saw a strange black figure coming through a hole in the floor which was the source of the red light and smoke. As he got closer he realized that the black figure was Mr. Devilen in a long black trench coat. It was at that moment he realized the true meaning in the name DEVILen.
            Tim slowly back away from the office and quietly walked down the stairs. When he reached the floor the Machine's teeth began to glow red just like it did when trying to eat the arm of his younger brother. Tim ran towards the door and ran outside. He climbs into his pickup truck and drove off in a manner of haste.

6
            While driving down the back road highway going dangerously over the speed limit.
            'What the f**k am I going to do?'
            Tim thought to himself as he thought of each possible outcome. For a brief moment he thought about going to the police with the situation.
            'They would probably lock me in the God damn loony bin!'
            Tim thought to himself while continuing to drive 55 miles per hour in 35 miles per hour speed zone. He began to think of other alternatives. He thought to himself for several more moments then he made his decision.
            'There is only one thing left to do! I have to go talk to Ronnie!'
            Tim once again started to think to himself. He looked into the rear view mirror when he saw a black and white painted car pull onto the road behind him. He glanced at it for a moment more when he saw red and blue lights begin to flash on top of the car and a loud annoying siren began to ring. Tim began to apply the brakes and pull off on the side of the road.
            “F**k!” He yelled as he beat his left hand on the steering wheel throwing a little tantrum. He let go of the steering wheel to reach in his back pocket and grabbed his wallet. He opened it and pulled the driver's license out of the see through part of the wallet. He placed his wallet down in the console and began to impatiently wait for the police officer.
            The police officer behind him opened the door and stepped out of his patrol car. He was an older man with gray hair and the typical wrinkly face of an old man. He was sort of chubby in the since that in his younger days he was quite buff but then as time went on, he stopped working out.
            The officer approached Tim's truck and walked to the window of the driver’s side. He was wearing the type of sun glasses that you would most likely see NASCAR legend Dale Earnhardt wear on race day.
            “Do you have any idea how fast you were going back their son?” The officer asked Tim. Tim quietly shook his head 'NO' not trying to disrespect the officer.
            “I clocked you going about 65 miles per hour in a 35 miles per hour zone.” the officer added while replying to Tim. “I need to see your driver's license and the car's registration.” He added as he placed his left hand on the pistol in his gun belt.
            Tim handed him the driver's license and car registration that were in his hands. The officer grabbed them and walked quietly back to his patrol car to run the license through the machine.
            Tim sat in the driver's seat of his Ford F-150 truck extremely impatiently. He began to drum his hands in a jittery fashion and continued to look in the rear view mirror at the officer.
            After about ten minutes the police officer stepped out of his car and walked up to the window of the truck. The police officer handed him his driver's license and car registration. Tim grabbed them and placed them in the passenger seat next to him.
            “Your record came up clean. However, I am afraid I will have to give you a ticket son!” The officer said to Tim as Tim let out a deep sigh in disappointment.
            The elderly police officer grabbed the ticked pad out from his back pocket and began to scribble in it. After writing the ticket the officer ripped it off the pad and handed it to Tim.
            “Now watch yourself!” The officer told him as he turned around and walked back to his patrol car. Tim waited there for a moment for the police officer to leave.
            After he saw the police officer leave, Tim restarted his truck and drove back on the highway and drove with haste to the local hospital.

            “I'm telling you its f*****g true!” Tim screamed to his brother Ronnie while in Ronnie's hospital room. Ronnie once again looked at Tim with doubt.
            “There is no way in hell that is f*****g true.” Ronnie screamed at his big brother. Tim with frustration slammed his and through the window and pointed to Ronnie.
            “You want proof? I'll f*****g show you proof! Now get off you God damn a*s and get dressed!” Tim screamed back at Ronnie. “We are going to the f*****g factory!” Tim added to his argument with his brother,
            Ronnie got out of bed and grabbed his blue jeans and walked out of the room. They both went to get in the elevator to ride down to the lobby. When they hit the lobby Tim walked his little brother out of the hospital and helped him up into his Ford F-150 truck. Tim climbed in the truck on the driver's side and started the engine of the truck. He put the truck in drive and drove out of the hospital parking lot with haste.

            After arriving at the factory Tim parked his truck and helped Ronnie out of it. He walked Ronnie over to the factory's front door and walked in. As soon as they walked through the door they paused.
            'It couldn't be! Could it?'
            Ronnie thought to himself as is eyes glared at Mr. Devilen holding Ronnie's wife Carrie in a threatening manner over the Big Red Monster.
            “Now my child, you may feast!” Mr. Devilen screamed to the machine as the teeth once again began to glow blood red.
            “NNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” Ronnie screamed running towards the monster. Devilen turned around and looked at Ronnie with his hideous glowing red eyes.
            “Ahh, Ronnie my dear boy, you are just in time for DINNER!” Mr. Devilen said as he grabbed Ronnie in the other arm. There was something totally different with Mr. Devilen. He was paler than before. He had yellow tarnished and pointed teeth much like that of Pennywise of the famous Stephen King novel, IT. Tim darted towards the machine and ran to save his older brother and sister in law.
            Tim grabbed the arm of the Devil and set his brother and sister in law free from his evil grasp.
            “You son of a b***h!” The demonic figure screamed with the typical evil tone of voice. Mr. Devilen began to run towards Tim to push him into the machine. Tim then ducked and tripped Devilen into falling into the devilish beast of a machine.
            The Big Red Monster began to spark and clatter as if it was choking on its father. The machine then burst into flames and the companies’ safety sprinklers began to shower in appempt to putting out the fire the fire.
            “Oh s**t!” Tim screamed with fear as he grabbed his older brother Ronnie and his sister in law Carrie and darted out of the blazing factory. After making it out of the factory the three of them stood there and glared happily at the burning building.

            “Closed for business!” Tim said happily.

Epilogue

            After two weeks of the factory being closed an interesting discovery was made about it.
            Carrie, the wife of Ronnie, was sitting in the Public Library and looking shocked at the news paper clippings of the local news paper.

            '30 people missing after new factory moves in!' a paper clipping read dated back in 1713

            'Mr. Devilen ran out of town by angry mob!' another news paper clipping read dated back from 1763.

            'Machine accused of killing the innocent!' another news paper clipping read dating back from 1813.

            'Seyton Lives!' another news paper clipping read dating back from 1863. There were several more in the scrap book including the years 1913 and 1963.

            “This was not the first time an event such as this one has taken place. It happens every fifty years!” Carrie whispered to herself in true and total terror.

© 2013 Richard Edwards

Author's Note

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Featured Review

Dayran

I wouldn't have thought the story significant before but after 20 years of working with computers I'm starting to think differently. Maybe there's something there we'll understand better someday ... but I figure we'll be using our human rational and reason to do it ... just the way we are doing it now.

The story brings up an interesting mix of nudity in the bathroom, a money grabbing employer and the way a machine will simply hack away at anything you feed it. The bather obviously would like to preserve his dreams ... without having to give up work that denies his personal self. Perhaps it hints at the cop who maintains a clear line between speeding and potentially threatening behavior. Perhaps we are starting to understand better what we do.

Interesting, promising and nouveau ... Merry Christmas Richard.

Posted 10 Years Ago

1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

10 Years Ago

Thanks Dayran. Merry Christmas to you too!

Reviews

Angel

This reminded me just a bit of a very old movie titled "The Mangler"...about a monster machine in a laundry that ate people...if I remember right, the machine was connected to the sadistic man who owned the laundry...
But that was years ago.
A very good story. Just one thing...to whip someone or something is to hit them, usually with a belt or a switch. The word you are looking for is "wipe"...as in "I had to wipe the tears from my eyes"...
You know, my good friend, Cody Williams, makes that same spelling mistake all the time.

In fact, you write an awful lot like my friend, Cody....
Hmmmmmmm............

Posted 10 Years Ago

M. L. Zane

Cody requested that I give this story a look over, and my apologies to both of you for a slow response. Long story. Anyway, you have an interesting premise here; good versus evil is a timeless theme that never seems to go away, and that isn't exactly a bad thing. This gives you something you can use to grab and grip your reader. We all have our definitions of good and evil, and you can devilishly play with this in your writing.

However, the language in this story seems a bit unrealistic. Treat it like casual conversation, and slow it down. The initial exchange about the threat of the character potentially losing his job is far too quick. Without yelling and screaming, it would never be that fast. The context is there, but the tension just isn't. That really disconnects you from sharing the poor guy's plight, and it is human nature to want to relate.

Speaking of action, you really should slow down. Just as the work starts to reel you in, the scene is over and has moved onto something else. Your ending line is a prime example of this. She says something in "true and total terror" (which is very nice alliteration), but where's the evidence of it? Where's the dilated pupils, the clawing fingers, or the quivering lip? Don't be afraid to show us, and let's see that final camera shot before the credits roll. Lastly, rule of pinky; if two words are within two segments of your pinky finger to one another, they are too close together and probably sound repetitive when read aloud. Doesn't work for everyone, but works for many.

Give my regards to Cody, and I'll give this another look if you found my counsel helpful.

-M. L. Zane

Posted 10 Years Ago

Anna Blackburn

A potentially appealing story. It needs a lot of revision though. You should think about getting a friend to read through this a few times. A couple mistakes (there's a lot more though, if I'm being honest): 1: misspelled spray as spry, whipped should be wiped (did this twice), hair do should be hair-do, under wear should be underwear, drawr should be drawer. 2: hast should be haste, "as he angrily as he" get rid of second 'as he', " of his warn out his" get rid of second his, solder should be shoulder.