Brett McBean - Tales of Sin and Madness

The kids remained in the shadowy confines of the hallway, and as Jackson continued watching, he soon realized that the kids weren’t playing at all — well at least not tag or hide-and-seek. There was one kid, smaller than the others, who was standing by the wall that wasn’t laughing. He had his head down while the other kids poked and made fun of him.

Heartless little fucks .

Jackson now heard what they were chanting: “Son of a whore, son of a whore.”

“Stop teasing him, you brats!” he yelled. “Go home and stop playing around with the elevator!”

They ignored him, didn’t even look in his direction.

What am I a friggin’ ghost?

“Son of a whore,” they continued, giggling and poking the helpless kid.

The doors started to close, and as much as Jackson wanted to go out and stop the teasing, he remained in his transient cocoon.

It’s none of my business anyway , he thought, even though it incensed him seeing that kind of cruelty.

Where the hell are all the parents tonight? Are they in one room having an orgy or something?

He thought it was supposed to be a quiet night. Well, according to the night watchman — who may or may not have been lying about that, and who may or may not know about his secret life.

Jackson was growing nervous. He was certain Gloria was trying to tell him something, and he was certain it had something to do with him being caught.

Should I go back down to the lobby? What would happen if I did? There might be cops waiting for me there as well. That damn night watchman probably called up to the cops in my apartment and told them that I arrived back and now there are more waiting for me downstairs in case I try and run.

The more he thought about it the more he was positive he had been caught. Somehow, the cops had traced it all to him.

I didn’t do anything tonight. How could they have found me? All I did was walk around. They can’t arrest me for that.

Some of his fondest memories were the years he attended Belford Elementary. He was already good friends with most of the kids in Belford, so to him, going to school was just like being on summer vacation, aside from the schoolwork of course, but he didn’t find that a problem. In fact he used to help out kids that weren’t quite as bright as he was. He made even more friends that way, girls included. Because in those magical years before the hazards of adolescence took over, girls weren’t the scary, alien beings they were to become. It was a great time, where the mere smell of a girl didn’t send him wild with hormones, but simply meant another person to play ball with, another friend to eat ice-cream with and ride around town. He was one of the most popular kids in Belford Elementary, and everything was good.

He was deciding whether or not to press the button for the fourth floor and change his direction down to the lobby when the elevator stopped at four anyway.

Jackson stepped back.

The doors opened. There wasn’t a herd of cops waiting for him.

There wasn’t anybody around that Jackson could see.

( I won’t be around anymore. This is the last time you’ll ever see me. But there’s something I have to tell you before I leave. Something you won’t want to hear… )

Jackson relaxed a little and planted his foot in the doorway.

He had to make a choice: keep going up to his apartment, or press the down button? If there were cops waiting for him in the lobby, he could at least try and make a run for it. If he could make it out to the street he might have a chance of losing them.

I’m just being paranoid. There are no cops waiting for me. They haven’t got anything on me. They haven’t got any clues…

But he hadn’t read the papers today so he couldn’t be totally sure about that.

He contemplated taking the stairs down, that way he could sneak a look at the lobby and see if there were in fact a flock of cops waiting for him.

But the stairwell smells even worse than the elevator .

After some deliberation Jackson took his foot away and decided to ride the elevator all the way to the top.

But the doors didn’t close. Even when he slammed his hand against the ‘close’ button. Repeatedly.

“Come on,” he growled. “What’s wrong with it?”

Again he got the sense Gloria was trying to tell him something important.

Other than we have ghosts in the building?

He spotted the emergency phone on the wall and considered calling the night watchman and telling him the elevator was acting up because of an electrical fault, the kids on three, or the place was haunted.

Or Gloria is sending me a message .

Jackson didn’t hear the door open. It was only when he heard the cries that he looked out at the hallway and saw two men running towards him. His first thought was that there was a fire, although he couldn’t see any smoke.

“Is everything okay?” Jackson called.

The older of the two suddenly grabbed the younger one by the throat and dragged him backwards.

Shit! There was no emergency other than his sudden need to get the hell out of here.

Come on , he thought as he pressed the ‘close’ button over and over again.

He didn’t want to bear witness to whatever was going on between the two men, yet as he waited for the doors to close, he watched as the older man threw the younger one to the ground and tore off his pants. When the older man started taking off his own pants, Jackson knew with a sinking feeling what was going to happen.

Doesn’t he see me standing here? What the hell is he thinking? At least I do it where no one else can see .

The boy — even though Jackson couldn’t see the young man’s face clearly, other than how pale it was in contrast to the black shadows, he was certain the guy was no older than twenty — began crying and begging. “No, please, don’t. Please Uncle, don’t.”

Jackson’s stomach lurched. His throat went dry.

Had he heard right? Did that boy just call the man uncle?

Oh Jesus .

Jackson slammed his fist on the ‘close’ button.

Close! Come on close!

He didn’t want to watch. If the younger person had been a girl, then that would’ve been okay. But not this. Anything but this…

The older man was on his knees now, most of his face shrouded in shadow, only his depraved grin visible, his pants bunched around his ankles, body thrusting with each act of violation.

The boy continued to cry. “No! Uncle, no! It hurts!”

Jackson was crying as well.

What’s happening? Gloria? Where are you? What’s going on, Gloria?

The cries of the young man seared into Jackson’s brain. He wanted so much for them to go away.

( I’ve found out about you. Yes, that’s right. I’ve found out about your past… )

He had already blocked out the vision, but there was no stopping the awful sounds, even with his hands over his ears.

He gasped at the jolt. When he felt the rise of the elevator, he opened his eyes and took his hands away from his ears. He wiped away the tears, looked to the ceiling and let out a shaky breath.

Something weird was going on tonight. First the baby, then the children, and now the uncle and his nephew. It was all so horrible.

And familiar.

That’s what scared him the most.

He knew he should pick up the emergency phone and call the night watchman. Tell him about everything he had seen tonight.

But he couldn’t move his arm to the red phone on the wall.

I’ll call when I’m safe in my room , he decided. When I’ve got a few glasses of scotch in me .