-Nightmare’s sequence-
…
“That isn’t what happened! NO WAY!”
“YEAH WAY!”
“SAYS WHO?”
“SAYS, MOMMY! *er* I mean MOM! AND MY MOMMY IS ALWAYS RIGHT!”
“Yeah, Ollie…Mommy”
*pfffft ha-ha-ha*
“What are ya laughing at, Luther? You were scared poopless!”
“DON’T MAKE FUN OF LUTHOR! YOUR STORIES ARE ALWAYS WEIRD AND GROSS!”
“My stories are for a ~mature~ audience, thank you very much!”
“Mature, yeah, can’t even say shitless in case ~Mommy~ hears you!”
*PFFFFT HA-HA-HA*
“Hey! CRAM IT, LUTHOR, YOU BIG BABY!”
“NO, OLLIE, YOU CRAM IT!”
*CRAAAAAAAAAAAASH*
“BABY!” shouts an exacerbated Alma Staley.
Three kids of quite the imbalanced friendship have been trying to enjoy a night of games and stories until the stories started getting scary.
“Ah, come on, Alma, Ollie was just joking around,” says Luthor Knotts, who was sure he had a winning hand this round!
“YuhAlmuuurrrrIwuzjustjockingarooowwwwn…” adds a significantly dizzy Ollie Homeier. He was sure he had a winning hand this round too!
Alma interjects, “No, he wasn’t Luthor! Stand up for yourself! Chumps like him just joke around, and-”
“He’s a cheater! HMPH!” Alma says as she pulls a Level 8 Dark Dominator Dragon, the Dragon of Dark Domination, from Ollie’s sleeve.
“I knew something was fishy!”
Luthor keeps quiet. He was about to summon a Level 7 Lithiophilite Lancer to the fray of battle. Sure, Ollie’s dragon might have given him a hard time, but he had two trap cards, just in case…
*boink* Ollie frees himself from his unwanted (but deserved) neck ornament. He says, “It doesn’t count if I don’t get caught!”
*THUD*
*SNAP*
“OW! UNCLE UNCLE!” screams Ollie in vain as Alma shoves his face on the table and twists his arm.
*TWIST* “IT DOES COUNT!” she reminds him.
*TWIIIIIIST* “YOU DID GET CAUGHT!”
Alma has him pinned, “WE’VE HAD ENOUGH OF YOUR TOMSHITTERY!”
Part of Luthor debates trying to correct her, that it’s “tomfoolery”, but at the same time, he knows it’s plausible she knows that or just doesn’t care, period. So he makes the best choice and keeps a tight lip.
“Ollie~♥ Baby~♥ Is everything fine up there~?” asks Mrs. Homeier from below the attic door.
*TWIST* “Yeah, baby, tell her everything is fine! *TWIST* Alma preps him.
“Yes, Mommy, everything is fine,” says Ollie welling up with tears.
Luthor laughs to himself. Ollie stares daggers back, and Luthor zips it.
“Yes, Mrs. Homeier. Ollie said it’s past his bedtime, and we should get going!” says Alma, and she releases Ollie.
“Ollie is such a good boy~♥ Ok, sweet Alma, you and Luthor better run along now~♥” says Mrs. Homeier.
The three kids go downstairs...
Exiting out onto the porch, Alma brashly jumps over the stairs. On the other hand, Luthor carefully steps down one at a time to avoid slipping. He slipped and hurt his knee earlier. It really hurt!
“It’s awfully dark~♥ Are you two kids sure you don’t need a ride home~?” asks Mrs. Homeier.
“N-O-P-E! Cuz I have Luthor with me~♥” Alma grabs Luthor by the hand.
He blushes and scratches his cheek. Ollie rolls his eyes.
“Bye Mrs. Homeier~♥ Bye Ollie,” Alma waves goodbye and dashes away with Luthor in tow.
“Bye-bye~♥ Little sweet things~♥” Mrs. Homeier waves back.
Ollie takes a chance to blow a raspberry at them as they depart.
…
…
“La-la-la~♥”
“Hey, slow down, Alma!”
Alma tugs Luthor ’round every corner, ’round every barking dog, ’round every cantankerous old lady that shouts from their doorsteps-
“Damn kids, playing at this hour!”
“Damn kids, riling up the dogs at this hour!”
“Ah, sweet Alma~...oh and Luthor. Damn that boy!” *SLAAM*
-in their neighborhood that loves to complain, loves to shout, and loves to gossip in the small, otherwise average town of Ray, Canzus. Alma and Luthor soon find themselves on a certain sidewalk…
Luthor begs, “Come on, Alma, this place gives me the heebie-jeebies…”
“Ya know, I like to see it! Besides, you coulda let go of my hand a long time ago~♥” Alma replies, sticking her tongue out at him and laughing.
She grips the bars of a fence and stares through it wide-eyed. Luthor does the same but with his eyes closed.
“Tell me when you’re done…” he whispers.
Ah! If sweet Alma and Luthor are on Simmons Street, then Alma surely wanted to visit…
*BOOOOOM* thunder roars…
*KRAAAAACK* lightning strikes the earth…
*WHOOOOOOSH* a mean wind howls…
“~Milhollin M-a-n-o-r~ Bluuuuuuuh!!!” Alma says with a haunting tone.
“It’s best to wait to say it after the wind~!” she chuckles while looking up from beneath the shadow of a large home in the distance…
Luthor says, “Well, I hate thunder! I hate lightning, and I hate-” *BOOOOOM* thunder *KRAAAAACK* lightning *WHOOOOOOSH* and wind all interrupt him in that order. He rattles firmly in place.
“Aw~♥ You don’t hate those things, Luthor, yer just scared!” Alma says.
“W-w-what d-difference does it make?” Luthor inquires.
Alma holds his hand and says, “Cuz when ya got me, ya don’t need to be scared~♥”
Luthor is speechless...considering how he decided to hold his breath. His father tells him he’s not much of anything, so why would romance be any different? It’s not like he has anything clever to say either. Father told him or joked with him (Luthor was never sure ) that if he had nothing good to say, he should shut his trap, hold his breath, and count until he did!
Alma stares at him and pokes Luthor’s face, but he doesn’t budge. She was hoping he would have something to say but is not at all surprised.
“Ya know, Luthor, Ms. Loretta says that no matter how long that ol’ heap of mortar, stone, and wood ages on the outside. It never ages on the inside…”
Now Alma is blushing intensely, “...umm…if we went inside…do ya think we could be together for-”
*PFFFFBBBBFFFFFT* Alma turns to see Luthor’s bright red balloon face gradually deflating at a blubbering pace.
She huffs but decides to let it go, “Ok…fine wheezy~♥ Let me take ya home~♥”
Alma takes him by the hand again and waltzes off, but not too soon before seeing the rusted fender of a parked car. The driver’s side door is still open…
She remembers *YUCK* ‘That belongs to that creepy creep face, Barney!’
‘Huh…’
No one appears to be inside. GOOD! Alma only gives it one last cursory glance before continuing off with Luthor. After they are gone, a swift unassuming gust closes the door…*CLUNK*
…
…
Simpler times…
Simpler days gone by…
…
…
The thunder always roars, lightning always strikes the earth, and the mean wind always howls. A man, flashlight in hand, trudges up a muddy hill. Each first step with bravery! Each second step with cowardice! Fitting, as he’s come to face his destiny. To face your destiny is to look in the mirror. The man’s teeth chatter, barely keeping his hands still while he holds up his flashlight surrounded by shadow to illuminate his fate, his mirror.
Luthor Knotts, age 42, carries the many MANY wearing years on his face along with countless memories of “what if?” that stuck like glue to every corner of his mind. Today, there are no corners left, not anymore. Perhaps here he can find redemption and purpose after all those long, miserable, lonely days.
He takes a long, revealing look into his mirror of fate…
…Milhollin Manor…
All those years walking by. All those years with his face between the fence. Now Luthor finally finds himself on the other side. The manor being the other side of a thinly veiled peaceful, unassuming, unchallenging, safe, “mostly” risk-free life. Boys wake up from their nightmares wrapped in warm comfy blankets. A man must face his nightmares…LIKE IT or NOT!
After all, it’s just…
“Mortar, stone, and wood…”
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
-CHAPTER END-
-Nightmare’s overture-
