*Magnify*
SPONSORED LINKS
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/963653
Rated: XGC · Book · Horror/Scary · #2187629
Suitable refuse.
#963653 added August 3, 2019 at 10:21am
Restrictions: None
Shipped Off
The steel bars that framed his wild eyes only served to heighten their dangerous allure.

"Where are they, DeMarcus?"

The corners of his thin lips upturned slightly.

"I don't know who, or what you're talking about, officer. Has something happened?"

I grab a photo of the crime scene from my coat pocket and show it to him.

"Well, I understand now how you'd have thunk of me, considering that's my old shipping container, but I swear, I didn't do a damned thing. I sold that blasted box off to some gooks like three weeks ago."

I pull back out my pad and my pen.

"Do you remember what these gooks looked like?"

He sniggered.

"Yeah, slanty eyes, crooked teeth, yellow skin. What do you think? They were gooks; they all look alike."

"So if you saw 'em again, you wouldn't recognize 'em?"

He shook his head.

"Naw. Sorry, it's like I said."

"And how many gooks were there?"

"What?"

"Like in general. How many did you sell your shipping container to?"

"I dunno, just some. Like two or three. What does it matter?"

My hands firmly grip the steel bars beneath his chin.

"It matters because seventy-eight people have disappeared from this town in the past three weeks, and we find your shipping container spattered from floor to ceiling with human blood that you can't explain, even though the crime scene's littered with your D.N.A. Plus, do I have to remind you that we've caught you smuggling goods in that crate before?"

DeMarcus runs his hand through his greasy hair.

"I know how it looks, Teagues, but I'm telling it to ya straight. You're barking up the wrong bush, bud."

Frustrated, I grab the collar of his shirt and fiercely yank his face hard into the steel, busting open his nose.

"I ain't your bud, Henry DeMarcus, and I know you had something to do with all this, so you might as well tell me and save yourself a bit of hassle later on."

He spits some blood on me.

"As I said, I ain't tellin' you squat, Daniel Teagues."

"Have it your way, son, but if you don't speak, you'll be going to jail for a long, long time, and don't think I won't mention how you just assaulted a police officer."

I could feel his body trembling through his shirt.

"You think I'm scared of a little jail-time? I've been in the joint plenty of times. Heck, some of my best mates are there."

I yank him forward again, smashing his lip into the bar with an audible crunch.

"Oh, you should be scared, Henry. A lot of kids are among those missing, and I'll bet you know what prisoners do to sickos who harm children? So, do I have to ask again? What happened to everyone?"

He shivers and looks to the floor.

"If I did know something, hypothetically, then you'd have to promise that you'd try to keep me safe for me to spill the beans."

Defeated, he speaks like he's someone else, he even looks and feels like a stranger.

I let him go and flip open my notebook again.

He slumps on the bench and continues staring at the floor.

"Yeah, I'd promise. Now, hypothetically speaking, if you did know something, what would you tell me?"

DeMarcus starts to cry.

"That I majorly fucked up. I mean, I figured I was helping people go back to their home country, or something. Sure, I knew it was still illegal, hypothetically, but I didn't think I was hurting anybody. Everyone was just so dang happy when they hopped in there. It took me a few days to realize that they must've drugged them or something."

"Who are they?"

He finally looked up at me again.

"I don't think you want to know. Even if I told you, you wouldn't believe me."

"Try me."

He sighs.

"Okay. Well, since I'm fucked either way, I might as well tell you. A few weeks ago, some fat gook in a business suit, named Chun-Kei, walked up to me at the pier and handed me a briefcase full of cash. Like, more moolah than I'd ever seen in my life, so I was interested in what he wanted right away. He told me that his bosses wanted me to help smuggle some chinamen back to Hong Kong or whatever, so I was all like sure, why not?"

"So, all those missing people are in Hong Kong, or whatever?"

He shakes his head and wipes his tears away with his sleeve.

"No, that's what they told me at first, but I'll get to that."

The ground slightly rumbles beneath us.

"Strange. Is it an earthquake?"

Demarcus chuckles and mumbles something under his breath.

"You mind letting me in on the joke?"

The ground stops shaking.

He points to the end of the corridor.

"Go open that door, Teagues."

I glance where he's pointing then back to him.

"What's out there?"

"Take a look for yourself."

I point toward him sternly.

"If I find out this is a trick, Demarcus, God help you."

He murmurs as I nervously step down the corridor, "God can't help us now."

My fingers slowly grip the door-handle, a chill runs up my spine as I push it down, and yank open the door.

A mysterious swirling vortex of color greets me; it's beautiful, terrifyingly so.

My mind goes blank as I attempt to find the stairwell which should logically be here.

I slam the door closed once again and try to piece together what's happening.

"They've got us, Teagues. You'll get all your answers soon. We're heading to the same place as the others."

My curiosity overpowers my fear, and I walk back to his cell.

"And where is that?"

"I dunno if it's like another dimension or something, but I do know that there's no way back. Not for us. Chun-Kei, my gook contact, said it's sort of like an alien zoo."

"You mean, you've been helping kidnap people for some interdimensional aliens? You really expect me to believe that?"

"What did you see out that door? I'm sorry to tell you this, officer, but it don't exactly look like we're in Kansas anymore, does it?"

I chuckle, though I don't know why.

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Say, do you mind letting me out of here? I don't know if I want to be locked in a cage when they come for us."

"First, tell me what your role was in all this."

He sighs again.

"I'd drive my dad's old freighter out to international waters with the shipping container full of people. Another ship met us there and..."

"I get it. So, when did you clue on to the truth of it all?"

"About a week ago. When the first one popped."

I throw my arms up, confused.

"Popped? What popped?"

He gulps, visibly swallowing a lump of pure displeasure.

"Whenever the masters disapprove of a person, they pop 'em like a balloon filled with blood."

I fumble for my keys as the disgust pits in my stomach.

"Jesus! Why?"

"I don't know. That's all Chun-Kei told me."

My hand jitters as I slip the key in the old lock.

"Hey, I'm sorry about the whole face thing. Are you alright?"

He waves his hand.

"Yeah, no, I'm fine."

I twist the key slowly and open his cell.

DeMarcus gets to his feet and struts over to me slowly.

"Gonna be weird being behind bars for a change, Teagues. Are you going to be able to cope with it?"

I chuckle again and shudder.

"Maybe once they realize their mistake, they'll let us go."

He grins as he walks around me.

"Maybe you're right, or maybe there's another option. I mean, forever's a long ass time, isn't it?"

Before I can react, DeMarcus grabs my pistol from my holster on my hip, brings it to his head and fires, painting the wall red with his vital skull juice.

I catch his body before it hits the floor, he's dead already.

The gun slips from his fingers and falls through the floor, in a near dreamlike fashion.

I carry his fresh corpse into the cell which I'd just let him out of and lock us both inside.

Not that it matters though, as I too start to slowly sink through the thick concrete floor to an uncertain fate.
© Copyright 2019 Laurie Razor (UN: laurie-razor at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Laurie Razor has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and its syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Log in to Leave Feedback
Username:
Password: <Show>
Not a Member?
Signup right now, for free!
All accounts include:
*Bullet* FREE Email @Writing.Com!
*Bullet* FREE Portfolio Services!
Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/entry_id/963653