Foreboding Evil or Inauspicatus

Sean Rooney has a paranormal event happen to him as a very young boy. It effects his life until he is forced to confront the nightmares.

1

 

          When I was five my big brother Ryan died.  He was only a year older than me and had a stuffed monkey he named Benny.  I inherited that doll and kept it close to me even when I wasn’t in bed.  Took it everywhere I could until I moved on to first grade.  By then I was too old to be taking dolls to class.  Action figures were allowed but no dolls; they were for girls.  But he would be waiting for me right where I left him when I got home; lying on my bed.

        Benny had become the star of my most recent nightmares.  I was a six year old boy again hiding under my blanket hoping Benny couldn’t see that I was awake.  That’s the age the nightmares came alive.

        The stuffed monkey was sitting on top of my toy chest looking dead at me from across the room.  For a while it just sat there staring at me with its head cocked.  I didn’t know it could do that.  Usually he falls flat without my aide.  It slid off the chest and landed in a dead limp.  Benny picked himself up and stood upright before setting himself in a squat position.  He placed his oversized mitten hands on its knees and began to do some kind of dance that resembled more of a voodoo ritual.  His head was shaking violently and his body gyrated ways that should have ripped his tattered seams apart.  There was a full length mirror fixated on the closet door beside the chest.  At times it looked as though the chimp was dancing to its reflection.  The dance became erotically suggestive and climatic.  Then I saw Benny’s reflection eyeing me up: It wanted me.

        My Benny turned its head and glared over my direction.  As scared as I was I couldn’t shut my eyes.  Benny wasn’t sporting that “buddy smile” or “friends for life” eyes anymore.  His pupils crossed and reverted under their lids; they resembled boiled eggs.  A forked tongue slithered out from its stitched smile and slinked back in.  The thing slipped out again and danced wildly just as he had done.  I wanted to scream out for my dad but I thought I had Benny fooled when he stuck his whipping tongue into his mouth and sat back down on the toy chest. 

        But he hopped off the chest and began approaching my bed.  Benny walked over the way a toddler fumbles its earliest staggering steps on the brink of falling face first.

        As he got closer to me Benny’s eyes came out from hiding.  They were back to the little black button pupils that rolled nonsensically above paper white sclera as they’ve always done.  The monkey I would hold in my arms until I dozed off.  But then his serpent tongue fell out and he released a belch that shook what felt like the entire house.  No one else heard that?  DADDYYYYYYY!!!!!    

        There were four turned posts with round finials on each corner of my bed and Benny was small enough that he had to climb up one.  When he conquered that feat, he crawled under the blanket with me. 

        I was drawn to Benny’s disc-shaped eyes where the nightmare proceeded.  A lecherous satyr played its reed pipe to a demonized Billy goat with three tightly braided beards that draped from its chin.  It had crow’s feet eyes that made the old beast look wickedly wise. The scoundrel wore a thick white haired coat and had black horns that turned back off the forehead in a roll like a pompadour hairdo.  It was on its hind legs performing the same dance as Benny but more seductive than frenzied.

        Other goats were tearing apart and devouring a sacrificial lamb that lay center in a blood laden triangle of art.  Snakes jostled around flames that twirled atop red pillar candles melting at each point.  The old goat swayed its way over to the dying lamb and aimlessly pissed on it.  The failing lamb’s hooves reacted with a meek kick causing the scavenging flies to scurry but the goats kept on feasting.  When he was finished alleviating himself, some of the congregation joined the elder one in dance: A Billy goat Sabbath.  Others took turns a*s-f*****g another lamb.  The merriment of the goats bleating amongst one another sounded like the cries of wailing infants echoing throughout the cavernous dwelling. 

        The assailed sheep’s watery eyes were as black and beady as Benny’s and then suddenly I’m looking at Benny’s hellish face again.     

        That’s when I wake up scared inside and out. 

        I’ve had that same nightmare now for two straight nights.  I’ve had others that were equally as intense; been having them now for the past few weeks: Since I’ve been sober.  Waking up in a cold sweat; my naked body, my pillow and sheet soaked in perspiration.  I finally called the shrink that I promised my wife Brianna I would.  Problem is its 3:50 in the morning.  That appointment’s a day and half away.  There’s no going back to sleep now.  F*****g kidding; after that s**t. 

        Nothing a little smoke could take care of. 

        Besides I got to get up and shower for work in an hour and a half.

        I feel so alone in this bed.  No sanctuary lying next to me.  It’s too quiet.  I can hear my fear; the darkness. 

        I remember the one time I did take Benny with me to school.  I snuck him out of the house along with some matches in my Ninja Turtles backpack.  I use to cut through an alley on the way.  It wasn’t any shorter I just liked that it was off the main road.  There was a dumpster that belonged to the neighborhood bar and behind it is where I watched Benny burn. 

Author's Note

please ignore the grammar problems as this is a work in progress. all reviews welcomed.
also please ignore the cover. i can't and won't try to figure it out.
thank you.