Hi, it's Matt Pacey again. Uncle Matt is still walking with a limp, so he can't write his blog just yet. So, i'm filling in with another story. It's kinda scary, so you don't want to read it if you're scared of things that are scary. I wrote it 'cause someone wanted a story with the Beatles in it. So here it is,

Little Jimmy's Nightmare
By Matt Pacey


Little Jimmy sat alone in his house. The television was on. A movie.

He looked at his watch. It was pretty dark though. He couldn't really see it. Not enough to make out the numbers.

He tried to get some light from the TV onto the watch face. It was a pretty dark, gloomy movie though; the kind that are so dark, if you try to watch them at noon, the light from the window ruins the whole picture. It was the perfect movie to watch in the dark, but not very good for lighting up watches.

Then he remembered... He pushed a button on the upper right of his timepiece, and the whole face emitted a faint green glow. 3:30 AM. It was a little past his bedtime.

But his parents weren't home.

He didn't really have to worry.

But he did anyways.

They were supposed to stay overnight at the Petruccis' place.

But what if they came home early?

Nevermind.
Time to focus on the movie.

It was the kind he wasn't really allowed to watch. But that's what he did when his parents were away. No one to tell him they were bad.

He was old enough to watch what he wanted. 9 years old. 9 candles on his birthday cake. Quite the accomplishment. His parents were only 3 times his age, he knew. And they were REALLY old... So he must be at least fairly old.

The woman in the tank top was running down the hall from the black, slobbering beast with the red, glowing eyes. He couldn't make out what it was; just enough could be seen on screen to give the vague impression that there was a black, slobbering beast with the red, glowing eyes, sprinting forwards in the darkness.

Green hands grabbed at her through holes in the walls. They scratched her flesh with long grey nails. They looked vaguely human... as though they had once belonged to men, but were mutated out of shape my some mad scientist's vile potions. They scratched, and scratched, and tore, and grabbed.

Jimmy's parents warned him about these movies.

"You better not watch those scary movies, or they just might come true!"

Yeah right. They were probably just making things up. When he made those faces, it NEVER got stuck that way! He practiced for hours in front of the mirror, just to see if it was true. It would be soo cool! But it never happened. He believed them, but it never happened.

Why should he believe them about the movies?

One of the hands grabbed at what was left of her shirt. It wasn't very much. And the hand didn't find it so hard to remove!

Jimmy wasn't one to think that girls were icky. But women? Ewww... They were plenty weird. He covered his eyes with his hands!

...peeking out between his fingers.

The beast stood before her, grinning with a look of dark victory upon its' face. It slowly moved its head from one side to the other, dripping from the mouth, eyes narrowed into slits.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

The woman screamed with the most high-pitched, ear-spitting banshee-wail Jimmy's ears had ever heard, as the creature lunged forwards into a commercial break.

Sigh.

That was pretty close! Jimmy didn't think he'd have a chance to go get a soda soon, but here was his opportunity!

It was pretty dark in here. The only light was provided by a laundry detergent commercial. But Jimmy could make out the outline of the kitchen door in the distance.

He knew they were just trying to scare him, but the words of his parents echoed in his head.

"You better not watch those scary movies, or they just might come true!"

Poppycock!

"You better not watch those scary movies, or they just might come true!"

That's poop! Poop in word form!

So Jimmy peered over the edge of the couch to the floor below his feet. He couldn't see the floor. But he knew it was there. It always had been, and it always would be. Nothing to be scared of.

Slowly...

He lowered...

His foot.

It was close to where he knew the floor should be. But should he risk putting it down? All he could see was a blackened void!

Sillyness!

The floor was there. It must be. What else would be holding up the couch? Surely it wasn't levitating.

He decided he must get up... Or else he'd never get his soda!

He threw his foot to the ground... and hurtled forward , face first, towards the blackness!

He tried to scream, as he flew downwards into the abyss, but no sound exited his terror-contorted mouth.

*Thud*

He hit the floor.

He must have misjudged the distance to the ground. Their new couch was a little taller than the old one they had just gotten rid of.

He brushed himself off as he got to his feet. No harm done. Just a little rug burn maybe. But at least he wasn't plummeting into a bottomless chasm of doom.

A commercial for moisturizing hand soap came on.

Maybe those green hands would be happier if they had some of that soap, Jimmy thought, as he headed towards the outline of the kitchen door. He went slowly, always on the lookout for any mystery abyss that might be lying in his path.

Maybe they could use some nail clippers as well, he thought.

Slowly but surely he crept on. But then he realized there was nothing to be afraid of.

No bottomless holes....

No black beasts....

No grabbing green.... Say! What is THAT?

Pssht. Just a garish green winter glove his grandma had made him, carelessly tossed about, into the doorway to the kitchen.

Ah, the kitchen at last. The moonlight shone in from the kitchen window. He could see his swing set in silhouette, casting its shadow across the lawn. And he could see the refrigerator beside him in the room; his destination at last achieved!

"AAAH! My eyes!"

After being in the darkened TV room, the light from the refrigerator blinded him as he yanked it open. He covered his face with his hands, and peering out, with a squinting eye, through a tiny slit between two fingers, he spied the soda! He turned his face away from the fridge, and removing one hand from his face, he reached for the can of cool, refreshing, vastly oversweetened cola. His fingers clasped around the can, and grasping it securely, he lifted it forth from its frigid tomb.

He closed the fridge, and walked casually towards the kitchen doorway. He popped open the soda can, and lifted it to his parched lips.

He knew it was silliness, but he still couldn't get those words of 'wisdom' out of his mind: "You better not watch those scary movies, or they just might come true!"

Touching the can to his lips, and tilting it upwards, he allowed the cool dark liquid to enter his mouth.

"AAAAAAAAAAAUUUURHHHHHHGGGGGGHHHHHHHHH!!!!!"

Jimmy cried out in pain and winced as the cold soda covered his teeth, the sugar adding its own sting as it began the cavity-tunneling process.

He looked up, after the soda had finished its work, and looked back out upon the living room, and towards the couch, to which he must make his way once more. He could tell the couch was there since it cut off the deodorant ad on the TV about halfway down the screen.

He turned back towards the kitchen window, and the sight of his swing set in the yard. It certainly was late to go swinging. Or that's what his parents would say, were they there. But they weren't. It was Jimmy's night. He could do whatever he wanted; no one would send him to his room!

Behind him, out of the corner of his eye, he saw something move! He couldn't make out what it was. But he had the vague impression that there was a black, slobbering beast with the red, glowing eyes!

Looking back towards the moon, he reached into the back pocket of his Space Squad 5000 licensed PJs, and felt his hand close around something cold, hard and rectangular. He aimed it behind him and jammed his thumb down hard on a button near the terminus of the device!

*Click*

The TV turned off behind him.

He placed the TV remote on top of the dishwasher, before heading towards the screen door that lead to the backyard.

Behind him, he heard a low growl. Startled, he turned back towards the living room door. The TV must not have went off! He should have turned to make sure the screen went black. He grabbed the remote again, and headed back towards the living room doorway.

That little shock had put him on edge, though. He had to repeat to himself:

No bottomless holes....

No black beasts....

No grabbing green hands...

No bottomless holes....

No black beasts....

No grabbing green hands...

And he finally got his adrenaline down to manageable levels, and he turned the corner into the living room. Staring him in the face was a black, slobbering beast with the red, glowing eyes. So the TV hadn't gone off.

He raised the remote, pointed it straight towards the glowing red eyes that hovered in the darkness above the wide, slobbering, steel-tooth-lined chasm of a mouth.

*click*

All of a sudden, he heard the TV's speakers blare to life! What was happening? All he could hear was one of those songs from his parents' old Beatles records, and behind a large beastly silhouette of a head, he could see various parts of John, Paul, George, and Ringo, and behind them, the set of the Ed Sullivan Show.

*click*

Silence.

*click*

"All my lovin'!"

*click*

Silence.

*click*

"Darling, I'll be true!"

*click*

Silence again!

Throughout all the clicking, the Beatles appearing and disappearing, between all the transitions between sound and silence, Ed Sullivan and no Ed Sullivan, the ghastly visage of the beast remained fixed in the air, red beady eyes staring straight at their intended prey.

Not knowing what to do, Jimmy hit the button, once again.

"All my loving, darling RRRRAAAAAAAAAWWWWRRRRRRRRR!"
The beast opened its' mouth wide, getting out the most horrible sound ever to reach Jimmy's ears. More earsplittingly loud than the woman's banshee-wail, and infinitely more terrifying. It let forth a sound not unlike the sound of a cat, being devoured alive by a garbage disposal; a sound both like grinding machinery and sheer organic terror, mixed with a low bass gurgle that sounded decidedly sewage-related.
But Jimmy had not long to ponder this noise, as his legs were promptly yanked out from under him. Something was dragging him backwards, face down, across the carpet. Rug burn stung his face. He tried to grip the carpet with his hands, but it was useless. He looked down towards his feet as he struggled against... whatever it was!
He looked down towards his ankles, and stared, unbelieving, at the five long green fingers that were wrapped around it!
He tried to kick it loose, but to no avail. It just kept dragging him backwards, to where long arms emerged from an empty black hole in the floor. A mad cackling rose from the chasm, stirring up images of a wild-haired hunchback in a lab coat, mixing two steaming beakers into a cauldron, while electrical arcs from a hundred different machines dance about him.
Johnny wouldn't let himself be the victim of some eccentric madman! He struggled against the freakish green hands, with the garish grey nails, constantly kicking at the fingers. But the arms just kept descending into the hole, still dragging him along.
Into the hole went his feet.
Into the hole went his ankles, legs, and hips.
Into the hole he went everything besides his fingers, which just barely gripped the chasm's edge, the insane cackling getting louder with every tug by those cold, bony things that tore at him from below.
He tried to pull himself out. But he couldn't bring himself closer to the rim by even an inch. He looked up, and he could barely see the ceiling above him. For most of it was blocked out by a snarling black face, with a large, drooling mouth, and piercing red eyes.
Jimmy let go.
The sight of the beast and the ceiling above it receded into the darkness, until he could see nothing at all. The cackling grew louder and louder, and then faded away to nothing again.
Everything was black. No sights. No sounds. No sensation at all.
Nothing, until he once again heard the sound of RRRRAAAAAAAAAWWWWRRRRRRRRR!
The last thing he saw, he was headed straight towards those glowing red eyes, those silvery rows of teeth, feeling the drool of the hungry beast being spewed across his face by a blood-red tongue.
-----
Jimmy's parents arrived home early next morning. The beautiful colours of the sunrise were fresh in the sky. They parked the car, walked in the door, and took a look around for Jimmy. The TV was still on. Cheerful theme music played as bright pastel-coloured characters frolicked in the fields of flowers. The parents sighed to themselves, looking at the disarray Jimmy had left the living room in. His body parts were strewn here and there; an eyeball was floating in the fish tank, with an optic nerve like a little tail fin; the uneaten portions of his heart were hanging half out of the microwave; a lone foot sat atop a pile of intestines on the middle cushion of the couch. Blood, guts, and intestinal matter (not to forget the occasional bone fragments) plastered the walls and ceiling of the room.
One of the TV characters handed another a bouquet of freshly-picked daisies, and they both giggled with glee.
"Sigh. We told him not to watch those late night movies!" Said Mom, in a disapproving voice.
"I still say we should just kick that mad scientist out of the basement. He's never caused anything but trouble," Said Dad, putting in his own two cents.
"Oh dear, don't be hasty!' Mom replied. "He always clones us a new son every time this happens".
"You're right, Honey," Dad realized. "Let's just hope the next one listens to us when we talk to him!"
"Oh, that's what every parent wants, Dear," Said Mom. "But you know, Boys will be boys!"
"Indubitably."

THE END!