Doom Tales

1.
Allan slid lower into his blue plastic chair as Ms. Fleming slowly circled the classroom. As she marched by Allan he blew out a sigh of relief but Ms. Fleming was soon back and staring at him with her stone-cold eyes. “Ah, Mr. Watson. Why don't you read your story to the class? They are all so well written,” she mumble dryly, a sly grin on her wrinkled face.

He stood slowly and strode to the front of the small classroom. Holding a single piece of paper in his shaking hands, Allan began.
“It was a cold and dark night. All of the clouds were chalky gray and rain was pouring down in buckets. Penny ran down the muddy road, her long gown caked with dirt and drenched. Behind her was a pack of food-deprived coyotes. They had followed her for nearly a mile when suddenly a menacing root caught Penny's foot, pulling her to the ground.

Even though it seemed as her life was over, Penny heard a single gunshot. Her eyes darted to where it had come from. There, standing in the dark cover of a maple tree, was a man. 'Not a man,' she thought, 'Only a boy, barely any older than me.'

'My name is Gerald Florence,' the boy said. He helped Penny up and walked her back to his father's cabin, where she was treated for the large gashes on her legs.” Allan smiled at the end of his story and the class erupted into loud whoops and hollers. The one person that Allan zeroed in on was Penny Wallas. She sat there, her silvery blond hair tied back into a ponytail, her baby blue eyes glued to Allan's face. She smiled at him, a single dimple showing on her left cheek.

The bell rang and everyone hurried out of the room for lunch. Everyone except for Allan and Penny. “Hi Allan. I thought that the story was awesome. When you asked me if it was alright for you to put me into your story I was so excited. I loved it, except for the part where I almost got eaten by wolves.”

“Coyotes,” Allan corrected. Penny nodded and smiled again, trying to hide behind her long hair, although it was tied back.

“Well, anyway, any time you want to put me into your stories, go on ahead. You don't need my permission,” Penny whispered, brushing her shoulder lightly against a wide-eyed Allan as she exited the classroom.

***

At his mother's small, two bedroom apartment Allan sat at the ancient computer, typing away. He was writing a new story. Suddenly, he felt a twang of unease. Ignoring it, Allan continued to write. Then the phone rang. On the second ring Allan picked up the cordless and listened to his best friend, Richard, babbling on and on.

“Dude, were you making moves on Derek's girlfriend? Penny Wallas? You can't do that! He'll eat you alive!”

“Yeah but she likes me. I talked to her after the bell rang,” Allan replied smugly. Retreating, Richard told Allan to call him later and hung up, claiming that he had to go shopping with his mom and little sister.

Hanging up the phone, Allan went back to writing until his mother got home because then she exiled him to doing his homework.

***

At school the next day Allan searched the classroom for faces. Richard was at school. Good, he'd need to talk to him later. Derek was also at school, cracking his knuckles at Allan. Everyone was there. Everyone, that is, except Penny Wallas. Her seat was the only one in the classroom left unfilled.

At recess Allan snagged Richard and pulled him to the side of the gray brick school. “I have to tell you something,” he explained before Richard could protest.

“Did you notice how Penny wasn't at school today?”

Richard nodded.

“And did you also notice how my story yesterday included her being almost killed by coyotes?”

“Oh my gosh! She got eaten by wolves! Dude, seriously. She's probably sick!”
Furious now, Allan shoved Richard against the wall. “No, listen to me, this has happened before and you should remember it. Remember when we were in Mr. Musette's class and I wrote that story about a kid named Leon who drowned in shark-infested waters? The next day there was a story on the news about a boy who had drowned in his pool. The picture of the pool showed that there were shark pool toys in there. The kid's name was Leon James,” Allan spat. Considering this, Richard nodded, shoving out his bottom lip, pretending to be in deep thought.

“Well let's suppose this was real. Who did you say in the story saved Penny?”
Pulling the crumpled piece of paper from his pocket, Allan replied, “Gerald Florence.”

“Now we can check to see if there is anyone around the area with the last name of Florence and see if they have a son named Gerald. After school, my place.”



2.
Later that day, outside of Richard's two story brick house Allan heaved out a sigh, disappointed that his best friend didn't believe him, and was just humoring him. Just then, his shiny, black hair blowing about in little wisps, Richard sprang from the door. He was waving a crumpled piece of paper above his head. “Man, I got it!” Richard pointed to a name on the torn piece of phone book paper. “It says G. Florence. He lives at fourteen-twelve Lakewood! That's right by here,” he beamed. Cocking an eyebrow, Allan crossed his arms over his black t-shirt.

“I thought you didn't believe me. Besides, he wouldn't have his own number because in my story he was a young boy.”

“Well now I do. And anyway, in your other story the boy didn't drown in shark-infested waters, he drowned in a pool with shark toys in it. There's a difference,” Richard countered, glaring at Allan.

Defeated, Allan replied, “Okay, let's do it.”

The two boys hopped onto their bikes and sped off to the Florence household.

***

“Hello ma'am. My name is Allan Watson. I am looking for Gerald Florence and I thought that this was his home,” Allan said smoothly. The small, gray-haired lady at the door smiled in welcome at the two boys.

“Ah yes, Allan Watson. My son will be so glad that you are here! One moment, I shall go get him,” the old woman smiled again and turned around, heading into another room. A few moments later a teen with coppery hair and a willowy figure strutted to the door to greet the two.

“You know, I never expected to see you so soon, Allan,” the teen announced. Puzzled, Allan shrugged and looked over to Richard, who's maple eyes were wide with fear.

“And exactly how do you know me?”

“Oh, Penny Wallas told me after I picked her up at the side of the road. She's in the room next to us if you'd like to come see her.”
The two perplexed friends smiled at each other and marched into the perfume-scented house after the teen.
Surely enough, sitting on a purple floral couch, sipping on a glass of water was Penny Wallas, safe and sound. “Oh my gosh! Allan, Richard, I thought I'd never see you again!”

“What happened, Penny?” Richard charged right in on the matter at hand.

“I was walking home from Jessica's house when these dogs started chasing me! They came out of nowhere! I would have been killed if Gerald hadn't shot his pellet gun at those monsters. In short, he saved me,” Penny beamed at Gerald.

Amazed, Allan fell backwards, dropping to the floor. Everything was a blur as Richard bent down to Allan's side and Gerald splashed water on his face. In a daze, Allan felt an urge to write. He murmured to Richard, “Get me a pencil and paper.”

Not knowing what else to do, Richard looked up to Gerald and mouthed help. Gerald then hopped up and grabbed a notepad and a pen from the side table next to the couch. Gripping the pen in his hand, Allan began to furiously write. He wrote without looking at the page for what seemed like hours. When his pen finally dropped to the carpet Allan sat up, able to control his movements again.

“What are we waiting for? Let's read the dang thing!” Richard clapped his hands together and reached for the paper.

“They are coming. No one knows what they want. No one, that is, except for Al and his friend Richie. The two buddies know everything. The friends were sitting in a small, wooden room with their friend and her savior when a sudden knock at the door erupted. Answering the door, they found three men dressed in black suits. 'We are from the Mind Experimentations Lab,' the men announce. They take Al and Richie to a sterile, white laboratory, claiming that they both have extraordinary powers. No one knows where they are and are claimed to be dead by many. Many, that is, except for Penny Wallas and Gerald Florence.”

“Well, we should get ready for a knock on the door,” Richard announced, staring wide-eyed at the paper.

Looking blankly into space, Allan replied in a monotone, “Yeah, we should.”