The September 2009 Selected Story 1
Please feel free to contact Rick McQuiston
at: many_midnights@yahoo.com
The Demon Smiles
By Rick McQuiston
“Why do we wanna go there?” Tommy asked while looking at the girls for support. Jesse and Kara, each a picture of self doubt and caution, returned their concerned friend’s look.
Kenny spoke up. “Because we’re not supposed to.” His red hair matched the intensity in his eyes. “Haven’t you guys ever wanted to be bad…I mean really, really bad?”
Kenny became distracted for a moment as he caught sight of a beetle; a small brown thing crawling on his brand new Nike shoes. The insect left a tiny trail of dirt particles in its wake across the bright blue surface of the leather. Kenny reached down and promptly ended its life between his fingers.
The girls looked at each other. “Eww, you killed a bug.”
“It was on my new shoes,” Kenny said. “Well, are you coming with me or not?”
Again the girls looked at each other. They were very close and trusted one another completely. What one wanted to do the other wanted to do; what one thought, the other thought. “Fine, we’ll go, but you boys go first,” the girls said in unison.
Tommy, who was still frightened from a horror movie he had watched on Sir Graves Ghastly the night before, reluctantly agreed. Peer pressure had a firm grip on him, as it did on most children, and it directed his actions despite his common sense.
“Good,” Kenny said. “Tommy, you and me will go first. Girls, you can stay right behind us to watch our back. Once we get inside there’s no telling what we’ll find. But don’t worry, cuz I got a flashlight and Tommy has a candle he swiped from his mom.” He turned and began to stroll down the winding dirt path. The others hesitated for a moment and then followed behind him.
The imposing structure loomed in the distance. Even from a quarter of a mile away, its sheer size and history dominated the landscape.
“Is that it?” Tommy asked, not really wanting an answer.
“Of course,” Kenny said, secretly smiling to himself. “What else would it be? The old factory has been empty for years, ever since they shut it down.”
“Why did it close?” Jesse asked while looking over at Kara for approval.
Kenny stopped abruptly. He looked back at the others and this time he showed his sardonic smile outwardly. “Do you really want to know? Cuz if I tell you guys, you have to promise not to back out.”
The girls looked at each other and then over at Tommy. “Okay,” the girls said.
“My grandpa used to work there a long time ago,” Kenny told them. “He said they built all kinds of machinery there. Parts for cars, boats, and things for other factories too, you know, stuff like that.”
Tommy felt his curiosity grow. “So what happened?”
“My grandpa told me that one day his supervisor, some guy named Keith Marlo, was fired because he got caught in the basement of the factory doing some weird stuff.”
Jesse was feeling nervous. “What kind of stuff?”
Kenny knew he had them on a string, hanging on his every word, so he decided to spruce up the story a bit. “Devil worship, sacrifices, chanting, you know, crap like that. When that Marlo guy was fired, he told my grandpa that the right parts had been put together for the doorway to be created.”
Tommy felt his stomach grumble and regretted not grabbing a peanut butter sandwich before he left his house. “What did he mean by that?” he asked, feeling more nervous by the minute.
“I’m not sure, but I do know right after that Marlo guy was fired, the business went bankrupt, and real quick too. One day they all had jobs and the next day they were all unemployed. My grandpa said the owners boarded the place up right away, and wouldn’t let anyone back in, not even to get their last paycheck.”
“That’s terrible,” Kara added. “I mean how could anyone do that to people?”
Kenny nodded. “I know what you mean. My grandpa said the same thing. He said that the Marlo guy disappeared, too. Nobody ever saw him again.” He smiled his sardonic smile. “But that’s not the weirdest part. Before he left the factory, he took a few things with him.”
“What did he take?” Jesse asked, caught up in the story so much that she didn’t consult Kara this time before she spoke.
Kenny’s eyes narrowed to slits. “He took one of the machines, some sort of stamping thing. My grandpa said nobody could figure out how he did it, but he did it, and that’s a fact.”
“But why?” Tommy asked. “What good would some machine be to this Marlo guy?”
“My grandpa said he probably took it because he was fired. But if you ask me I say he needed it to keep the doorway open. I think, by some wild chance, when a certain amount of things are put together in just the right way they can somehow rip reality open so something can get through.” Kenny knew the effect his words were having on his friends so he continued, “But apparently he left behind one of the most important parts of the machine…the pressure gauge.”
“So what,” Kara interrupted. “He could’ve just gotten some other gauge thing and finished the machine.” Jesse gave her a high five.
Kenny sighed. “Haven’t you guys been listening to me? It can’t be just any pressure gauge. It has to be the pressure gauge. You know, it has to be the same one that was originally on the machine.”
The four eventually made their way to the old abandoned building, pausing at what was left of the entranceway gate.
“I don’t like this. This place looks haunted,” Kara said. She was nervously toying with her braids, a habit she’d been doing since she was a toddler. She looked to Jesse for support, but Jesse was watching Kenny.
“Are you coming inside with me or not?” Kenny challenged. “Or are you gonna be a bunch of wusses? Is that what you want me to tell all our friends at school? That you all are a bunch of wusses?”
All the color in Tommy’s face drained out. “It’s not that I’m a wuss,” he argued, “It’s just that the gate’s locked. We can’t get inside even if we wanted to.”
Acting surprisingly brave, Jesse stepped in front of the boys and pulled a large bobby pin from her hair. “Leave it to a girl to get things done,” she said. She inserted the pin into the padlock, and twisted it several times. The lock clicked open with little resistance. “Older brothers; you learn a lot from them.”
Kenny and Tommy looked at each other in amazement. They nudged the gate open and gazed at their bizarre destination.
“You go first,” Kenny motioned to Tommy. “I’ll cover your back.”
“I…I don’t think so,” Tommy said. “Besides, you’re the one who wanted to come here so bad.” He gestured for his friend to enter.
Kenny shot him a hard stare as he stomped through the gates. “Fine, be that way. Follow me,” he commanded.
Thick weeds choked nearly every square inch of ground, swallowing any traces of grass. A light, but steady wind was sweeping in from the east as gray clouds blotted out any chance of blue sky. Leaves from overhead flitted about every which way, as trees gently swayed back and forth in the wind as if sorrowful for their lost decorations.
The front door of the factory was heavily coated in rust, but to their amazement, it opened easily considering the length of its neglect. Kenny peered inside for a moment, and then entered slowly.
Inside, the darkness was as solid as a brick wall. It allowed the young investigators to enter, but promised no sanctuary. Kenny produced a small flashlight, which was so tiny that it was barely able to slice into the shadows.
“Remind me again why we’re here,” Tommy said through clenched teeth. He felt cold, too cold, considering the temperature outside wasn’t cold at all. He lit the candle he’d taken from his mother’s collection, hoping that she wouldn’t miss it.
“Come on you guys, keep up!” Kenny shouted from around a corner.
The girls tried to look at each other, as their eyes adjusted to the darkness. They could see the beam of light from Kenny’s flashlight dancing around in the dark up ahead, but they were becoming increasingly worried about continuing onward. How had Kenny managed to move so far ahead of them?
“What are you guys waiting for?” Kenny shouted again. “What’s taking you so long? Come on!”
Tommy, Kara and Jesse continued to make their way through the gloomy and damp corridors, trying in vain to keep up with Kenny by following his voice while at the same time, regretting their decision to explore the old factory building.
“We should’ve brought more flashlights,” Kara complained. “How’re we supposed to see anything?”
“Hey guys,” Kenny shouted. “There’s light in some of the upstairs rooms. Must be open windows or something. Come on, I’m right in front of the staircase now.”
The cold, dank floor slammed into Tommy’s palms as he fell and crashed to the ground.
“You all right?” the girls asked while trying to locate exactly where he was.
“Yeah I’m fine. Just tripped over something,” Tommy told them, feeling embarrassed that he had stumbled over something and fallen. “You girls better watch your step.”
Still up ahead, Kenny paused for a moment to listen to whatever the commotion was, and then he reached into his pocket. He smiled to himself as he withdrew a small, stainless-steel pressure gauge and gazed at it lovingly.
“Perfect,” Kenny whispered in Keith Marlo’s voice. “Just perfect.”
Quickly tucking the gauge back into his pocket he called out to his friends, using Kenny’s voice once again. “Come on, guys! We need to check out the upstairs rooms. There could be some cool stuff up there.”
The girls helped Tommy to his feet and continued on their way.
Behind them, hidden by the darkness, lay a small body wearing new Nike tennis shoes. The bright blue leather had been scuffed when Tommy had stumbled over them.
And up ahead of them, by the stairs, Keith Marlo waited. He was weak from his efforts to be Kenny, but he knew he had to be successful because his master would be hungry after its long journey.
The September 2009 Selected Writer 1
Rick McQuiston
Rick McQuiston is a forty-one-year-old father of two who slaves for a development company by day (he's just glad he still has a job!) and churns out horror fiction by (mid)night. Aside from winning the lottery so he could pass his days as well as nights writing good, scary fiction; his apsirations include passing his days as well as nights writing good, scary fiction. Rick has had nearly two hundred works published so far, and he is currently working on his first full-length novel, a zombie tale titled To See as a God Sees. Rick has written four anthology books, Many Midnights, Chills by Candlelight, Beneath the Moonlight, and As Mean as the Night, which are all available on Lulu and Amazon. Rick is also editor of his own horror fiction zine, http://www.geocities.com/many_midnights/ and is a guest author at the Memphis Junior High School.
If you like Rick's story The Demon Smiles, you will LOVE his latest book titled As Mean as the Night, found here:
http://www.lulu.com/content/paperback-book/as-mean-as-the-night/5991996
