Nightmares Scripted: A collection of dark short stories

Nightmares Scripted is a collection of 20 dark short stories. No story is similair to the one before it. Only a few deal with supernatural elements. A fact the Author was most proud of. Only one story is based remotely on personal experience. Subject material obviously ranges from dark to uplifting. Throughout the book the reader will be forced to look within the confines of their own souls and question what they believe in. But at the same time walk away from the stories with a belief that things can always get better. Be warned though, the subject material held within is very graphic in nature. This book is not for the faint of heart. Not every story is filled with gore or perversion. As stated before, some of the stories are in all acuality uplifting in nature.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

Nightmares ScriptedA collection of dark short storiesBy Joseph Lee WatsonAuthorHouseCopyright © 2009 Joseph Lee WatsonAll right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4490-5009-2ContentsIntroduction:......................................................ixChapter 1: Knowing Eye.............................................1Chapter 2: Condemned Survivors.....................................24Chapter 3: Blind Mice..............................................41Chapter 4: Four Chambers...........................................50Chapter 5: If Man Is Five..........................................56Chapter 6: And The Devil Is Six....................................66Chapter 7: Then God Is Seven.......................................76Chapter 8: Yaden's Word............................................83Chapter 9: A Few Too Many Lives....................................93Chapter 10: Perfection Reflection..................................103Chapter 11: The Days After Christmas...............................111Chapter 12: A Bakers Dozen.........................................118Chapter 13: The Superstitious Chapter..............................123Chapter 14: The Wrong Floor........................................134Chapter 15: Innocence Lost.........................................149Chapter 16: The Confessions of Several Killers.....................155Chapter 17: When Men We Become.....................................169Chapter 18: Forgetting Home........................................179Chapter 19: When Chasing Monsters..................................195Chapter 20: Lurking Beyond the Shadows.............................208After Word:........................................................215Chapter OneKnowing Eye "I could smell her." I remember watching an episode on animal planet one night about lions in Africa hunting antelope. The guy was talking about how they can smell weakness in the herd. Youth, old age, injury and illness causes them to put off a scent that the lions could smell. They'd prey on these flaws just like a school yard bully. Most humans also have this particular instinct but very seldom do they put it to good use, or bad use, which ever way you would choose to view it. "I could smell her." She was sitting on the same park bench I had passed a hundred times before on my way home from my dead end job at Joey's Pizzeria. I remember back when I was a kid how much I'd loved pizza. Now I hated the very smell of it. I hated the smell of dough, I hated the smell of the tomato sauce, I hated the smell of cheese and most of all I hated the smell of pepperoni. I had been a normal kid. I'd grown up in a middle class suburb in Lufkin, Texas. My Father had once owned a car painting shop while my Mother worked at a local hospital as an X-Ray Technician. I had been an only child who had been given pretty much everything I wanted. Well, at least what I'd asked for. I dared not tell them what I had always secretly wanted. "I could smell her." Her Chanel #5 perfume, her Herbal Essence shampoo, conditioner and body wash. It all made me want to vomit. It burned my sinuses all the way to the dark spot in my brain where evil thoughts boiled and bubbled like that stew in "Conan" that consisted of human body parts. Oh how I would have loved to live back then. Back when men ruled the world with the swords and axes they'd use to dismember the occupants of the villages they'd ransack and destroy. They were looked up to back then. Now or days people of that pedigree were trialed and convicted for what our society now views as crimes against humanity. I was standing so I could get a better look at my prey. She was sitting on the bench reading some trash romance novel with a stack of books beside her that no doubt consisted of what ever subject matters she was most likely studying at that piece of shit University up the road. The same one that had once turned down my application for enrollment. I had wanted to study culinary arts, not because I had wanted to be a Chef or run my own Catering business but so I could refine my true passion. She was wearing a dark navy blue skirt, a white blouse and thin reading glasses. Her hair, which was long and dark brown, was pulled back in a bun. But some of it at the end had came out reminding me a little of that kid from the little Rascals whose name escaped me. You could tell she had low self esteem even though she was far from being considered ugly. God how I had wanted to go over and smash her glasses into her cheek bones. Smash them until her eyes pressed up against the rims of her reading spectacles like the suction cups on those stuffed Garfield's. You know, the ones you see in the back windows of so many Soccer Moms' vans. "I could smell her." She had eaten a Tuna fish sandwich, Harvest Wheat potato chips and a Diet Dr. Pepper for lunch then tried to disguise it with a stick of Wrigley's pure chewing satisfaction. I could just imagine myself sucking her lunch out of her stomach. It was a disgusting thought I know but it gave me an erection that rivaled any erection a man my age could have, watching hour after hour of internet porn where guys "supposedly" pick up unknowing women, bang their brains out then ditch them far from where they found them. "I could smell her." She had just recently taken a shower and had also used a Summer's Eve douche to clean herself out. I almost passed up approaching her in the first place due to the smell of the 50 or so pizzas I had cooked but decided instead to throw my work apron in the bushes and walk over to her. As I approached and she made eye contact with me she blushed and immediately reached up to check her hair and adjust her glasses. She was as good as dead. I'm normally pretty good at pulling women due to the simple fact I'm an attractive man. I don't say that because I'm conceded mind you, I say it because this fact makes it easier for me to find women worth killing and convince them to spend time with me alone. I stood 6'2" and weighed an even 200 lbs. I had the same icy aqua blue eyes I'd received from a Norwegian Mother and jet black hair that I'd received from an Italian Father. I had never had to lift weights but was in excellent physical shape due to a unique metabolism that caused me to hardly ever gain any weight, no matter how much I ate. Plus the fact I walked everywhere I went didn't hurt much. I walked over acting shy, which I was far from being but the shyness tricks the women into believing I have a sense of sincerity about why I'm approaching them. Which you can tell by now I don't have the slightest degree or measure of. When I got up next to the bench and looked down at her she looked up closing her book laying it face down in her lap as if to conceal the fact she was reading a trash novel. "Excuse me I don't mean to bother you. My names Kevin." My real name was Travis but I reached out with my hand introducing myself with a fake name and an even faker smile. I remember thinking to myself `What's the purpose of giving a false identity to someone who'd never have a chance of turning it into the Police?' She reached up and shook my extended hand. I could feel her heart beating through the fingers that were now wrapped around mine. "I'm Britney." She looked down trying to hide the fact she was blushing again. She fooled with her glasses then brushed a strand of hair that had fallen in front of her face. I remember thinking about what it would be like to pull the strand out from the root and put it in a tiny braid for her as she watched on in horror. "Like I said I didn't mean to bother you but I was hoping you might know where I can find Kingman Street?" I wasn't even sure if a Kingman street existed here. She looked up then out as if searching the database of her mind. When the street name failed to come up on her screen she looked back at me. She couldn't hide the obvious disappointment of the fact I may have just wanted directions instead of taking an actual romantic interest in her. Now I knew for sure, she was as good as dead. "No I'm sorry I don't. But I'm not from here so I'm probably not the best source of information as far as street locations." Her eyes were a slight hazel color, more brown than hazel but still pretty in their own way. Most men would probably overlook them but for some odd reason they drew me deeper into her as if holding some kind of mystical power over my very being. She was wearing small pearl earrings and a small heart shaped locket around her slender neck. I wanted to choke the life out of her until she turned purple and those eyes that seemed to hold the ability to look deep into my twisted soul bulged out of her skull. "Oh, well then, hmmmm, where are you from then if you don't mind me being nosy?" Not that I really gave a shit where she was from but I needed an opening to start a conversation. When you act as if you're taking a general interest in really getting to know someone they tend to develop a false sense of security as to what your intentions are with them. I wanted her to think I was interested in getting to know her with the hopes of developing a strong relationship that could possibly lead to the American dream. A dream that consisted of a nice home with a white picket fence, a nice eco-friendly car, 2 1/2 kids and a dog named "Merlin." All I wanted to do was kill her as slowly and as violently as I could. "I'm from a small town in Louisiana not far from here called Deridder. It's right over the state line of Texas. "Yeah I know where that is. It's over by the army base right?" "Yeah that's it." "So you must be going to school here huh?" I instantly looked down at her books then made an "Ah duh" face before she had a chance to answer the question. She started giggling as I acted the part of the idiot. She was trying hard not to grin as wide as she was but wasn't doing a good job of it. Her cheeks were a flush shade of red making her hazel eyes stand out more than they already were. "Well ain't I just the brilliant Detective today." The strand of hair fell back down in front of her face. She smiled and then moved it back behind her ear again. I wondered how long it'd stay there. I then looked at the trash novel she was reading and smiled slyly. She glanced down at the book even though she had to known that was what I had turned my attention to. "But now something tells me that particular book has nothing to do with what you're studying for." She tried covering the book with her free hand blushing again, this time out of slight embarrassment. I set down on the open space next to her books and pointed down at the stack indicating if she minded me looking at them. She nodded that it was fine for me to investigate their subject matter. Smelling her stink made my mouth water but I managed to swallow silently as to not alert her to my true hunger. I looked through the stack seeing that they involved mostly child related subjects such as development and nurturing. It was clear that she wanted a job in either child care of some form or maybe even counseling. It didn't really matter. If the next few minutes went according to plan she'd never have another chance of even seeing a child again. A thought that excited me. I set the books down and then glanced at the novel in her lap. She noticed what I was looking at then looked back up at me. I smiled charmingly and then reached out indicating I wanted her to hand it to me. She did so but did so very reluctantly. I opened up to the page she had been reading and began to read out loud. "Hector took Marie into his tanned and sweating arms, embracing her with a passion that was forbidden. He kissed her as her loins began to burn with the excited anticipation of his long awaited penetration." She put her hand over her face and shook it out of humiliation. Embarrassed by the reality of the fantasy world within the novel that she had been trying to escape to before my uninvited visit. I began to laugh a little and handed her the book back as she struggled to find the courage to look me in the face again. "Well I'll say this. I'm not sure I'd want Marie to stay the night with me if she had loins that were burning." She exploded into laughter at my stupid joke. She tried feebly to cover her mouth to quiet the sound. I smiled and forced a controlled laugh. I really just wanted to wrap my hands around her neck and shut her up. That would be a very foolish thing to do out in the open. There were far too many people out and about to even consider such a bold act. Jail was not exactly something I wanted to experience which I understand with my unique habits would be hard to believe. But the reality is I wouldn't last long. The concept of being passed around amongst the rapists who segregated themselves as either the "Arians" or the blacks or Mexicans like a bag of candy is not a situation that sits well with me. How could it? In my previous experiences humor always worked best at calming my prey. We talked for the next half hour about this and that. Once I felt I had done a sufficient job of setting the trap needed to lure her into a world that consisted of great pain and suffering I asked her a direct question, making sure to act nervous to add to the affect of coming across as sincere. "Hey. Uh, I know you don't really know me that well but I was kind of hoping you might consider having dinner with me tonight. The truth is I'm aspiring to become a Chef and I was intending on cooking a dish I've been working on back at my place tonight and I'd like for you to eat with me so I could get an honest opinion of it." I studied her body language and could tell that she was hesitant to agree but that the possibility was there that she'd agree with a little extra persuasion. I shifted how I was sitting on the bench so that I could look directly at her before I spoke again not wanting to give her a chance to decline the offer. "But now I don't want you to get the wrong idea about me though. I don't put out for anything less than dinner `and' a movie. And the value meal menu at McDonalds and a movie on T.V. don't count. So if you were thinking about getting crazy you can just forget about it." I made sure to spread the sarcasm on extra thick. She smiled again at the joke and I could see the tension that came from her apprehension literally melt away. She took a deep breathe while she mulled the idea over in her head. I remember thinking again to myself, `she's as good as dead.' "Ok, but I'll need to use your phone so I can call my roommates and tell them not to expect me home for dinner, so they won't wait for me to get home before they make it. "Oh definitely, I'd almost insist on that. If anything so you can let them know where you're at and who you're with. They'd probably ask you all that anyways." I chuckled at the little joke to add to its affect. As we stood up she reached for her books. I quickly stopped her and picked them up to carry them so that she'd think I was a gentleman. She smiled letting me know I had fooled her once again. She was going to die today and she had no clue. My heart rate increased to a rapid pace. "I only live a couple of blocks from here, close enough to walk if you're up to it. Do you have a car parked nearby that you need to lock up or anything?" "No, I live at a sorority house on campus and it's parked over there." As she spoke I could smell the tuna on her breathe again. I smiled while thoughts raced through my mind. I wanted to kiss her simply so I could get a chance to bite her tongue out and eat it while she watched wide eyed and terrified. I often wondered how I was able to hide the inner desires that had fueled the dark thoughts that controlled my psyche for so long. I remember the show I had watched about the lions and wondered if a human's fear was the same as an antelopes before being caught in the jaws of the powerful cat. It couldn't be the same. A human's terror isn't based just on survival but also a false sense of security as to how the world is supposed to function on a normal daily basis. As we walked off I remember thinking about the fact she'd told me she's in a sorority. I hate these spoiled little rich Bitches. They go to school off the money `Daddy' sets aside for them from the time they're born. As we walked we chatted about where I was originally from or in my case where I was pretending I was from, about how expensive school books were and how sick a certain `Pop star' was for touching on little kids. "Does that make me a hypocrite?" Fuck who cares? Don't get the wrong idea. I have never sexually violated a child. I have in fact killed one before but I did not eat him. I'm not a complete monster so quit judging me. We all have inner desires to do things that society has done a good job of convincing us is wrong or immoral. I believe that not acting on the desires we have no matter what others feel about them is the only real sin. We approached the house where I had lived for the last 3 years, since my 25th birthday when I had purchased it for a very small amount of money. I liked living here. It was a two story 3 bedroom 2 1/2 bathroom colonial style home that had set on the market for 5 years due to the gruesome history it had, which I'll explain in due time. No one questioned why I had purchased it because I was young, people just assumed I was unaware of its history but the truth is that history is what had sealed the deal for me. We walked up the front steps and across the expansive porch that covered the entire front and wrapped around one side leading to a door that opened up to the kitchen. I opened the door and held it open for her always playing the role of the gentleman to my selected prey, as well as the outside world in which I managed to navigate and hide my true self from. It sickened me that I had to carry on this masquerade but like I mentioned earlier, the laws of man leave me no other choice. She stepped into the living room and was instantly drawn to the black and white photo's that rested on top of my fireplace. She pointed to one that was of an old tire swing next to a tree that stood next to an old farm house in need of a new coat of paint and a small horde of lawn technicians. I had no idea where the picture had been taken. They were photo's I'd stolen from a house that belonged to an elderly man I'd killed and regretted eating. The meat was tough to chew and tasted like chewing tobacco. He'd cussed me out one day for walking across his yard, so I returned later that week one evening while he was asleep to let him know what I really thought about him with a claw hammer I'd found in his tool shed. (Continues...) Excerpted from Nightmares Scriptedby Joseph Lee Watson Copyright © 2009 by Joseph Lee Watson. Excerpted by permission. All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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