Vintage Misery: Finale (special preview)

In ‘The Wizard of Oz’, the Wicked Witch had these horrible flying monkeys. I used to be terrified of them when I was a kid. Of all the things in the scope of my haunted world, that was the thing that scared me most. As a kid, it was hard to explain exactly what it was that scared me. It wasn’t the monkey aspect, it wasn’t the flying aspect. It was actually something about the face. That blue, stretched back, forced upon smile mingled with hollow, sad looking eyes. It looked trapped, forced into a shell, and that was what scared me. Add in the flying and it made me terrified that I, too, would be forced into that same expression. That same lifeless yet living way. I thought the flying monkey could bite me and I would turn into it too.

We call that irony.

The best way to defeat the flying monkeys, though, was my dad telling me they weren’t real, and instead telling me about the Wakefield house and the candle factory. Something that was actually real. But dad wasn’t here and now the flying monkeys were unbearably real and terribly close. Staying underwater was the best option, at least for as long as we could hold out. My chest was starting to burn, survival instincts were kicking in along with the panic.

Why was I doing this? Why was I risking my life for a town that didn’t even matter to me? I didn’t have the brain power to answer Neil to my fullest capability when he asked. But maybe ‘because’ was all I had. Was that enough?

Mercy and I swam to the edge of the water, coming out together behind some rocks. The bat creatures were swarming, diving, hitting the surface of the water then bouncing back up to join the dark fury above.

Mercy slowly took the flare gun out of his pocket and reloaded it with a new canister. His moves were slow and purposeful, making as little noise as possible. He took aim and pulled the trigger. Nothing.

He wanted to cuss, but he pinched his mouth as tightly shut as possible. He pulled the trigger again, nothing but a dull click. He shook it in hopes something would work to get it going. There wasn’t much time, I needed to get up into the house before daylight. There had to be a way to distract them, to get them out of here. Mercy then dropped the flare gun into the water, making a very loud plopping noise. The creatures shuddered and changed course, flying towards us, hitting against the wall, crawling along it like spiders and swiping out at us with gnarled, knobby fingers.

Mercy covered me without hesitation. He took the swipes and bites from the bat creatures, slowly easing us towards the ladder while he did. We fell over the rocks, falling back into the water. One of the creatures grabbed Mercy out of the water and I grabbed hold of his legs. They swarmed around him, crawling all over him. I pulled on his legs, fighting the creatures to get him back. Then a rock struck one upside the head.

He threw another rock, striking one right between the eyes. “Come and get me, you sacks of shit!”

They hissed and dropped Mercy. I caught him, stumbling backwards into the water as the bats’ attention became focused on Neil. He kept chucking rocks at them, leading them further away from us.

“What’s happening?” Mercy rasped, his face covered in bite marks.

“Ladder!” I shoved him towards it, making sure he got onto it first. Neil led the bats back through the corridor, and once they were all inside, one turned. It sniffed the hair, flicked its ears upwards. It screeched and flew directly towards me. It locked onto my back, biting my shoulders, neck, and scalp. Its sharp fingers dug into my sides but I couldn’t scream and alert the others.

Mercy got to the top and pulled out the gun. He shot, hitting the creature in the head. It clung to me, pulling me, almost ripping me off the ladder had it not been for Mercy. He grabbed my hand and pulled me up. The bat fell down, hitting against the ladder and then splashing into the water.

Once the grate was closed, Mercy put his arms around me and held me. “Are you okay?” He shuddered.

I was shaking, still terrified to make a sound in case there were any. I nodded and looked up at him, his face was covered in bite marks and scratches, I’m sure my backside was the same. I rolled onto the cold, concrete floor and took slow, deliberate breaths to calm myself down. Mercy sat there, knees up, arms braced against them. His eyes stared at nothing.

“This is all my fault,” I whimpered.

“How?” Mercy asked.

“It just is!” I sat myself up again and rubbed my eyes. “I have always done this! I have always caused trouble!” I sobbed into my palms. “I am a magnet for this...this-” I slapped myself a couple of times before Mercy stopped me.

“Stop,” he commanded me softly. “Just stop.”

I slouched down and sniffled. “I keep moving so nothing will stick. I just go from place to place to place, hoping I don’t find anything. I got my parents hurt so many times.”

“It’s not like you want these things to happen, is it?” Mercy squeezed my arms gently. “It’s not something you control.”

“But I attract these things! There must be a reason-” I began to blubber again. “I’m so sorry, Mercy,” I cried.