Mister Goat

         The Harrison’s were creatures of routine. Every single day was dictated by a strict schedule. On the weekdays, Mister and Misses Harrison would leave for work, and leave their son Bradly at a daycare, and on their way home, they would pick Bradly up, and take him to his little league team. His parents would go off and do their own thing, as Bradly tried, to no avail, to prove his worth to his team mates. After a shameful two hours of league, they would pick up their groveling, blond haired son and ignore his tears. ‘He’ll outgrow it. He’ll fit in eventually’ his mother and father thought. At home, Bradly helped his father in the family’s small cornfield, then help his mother with some household chores. At last, at the end of the day, Bradly could play. Since Saturday was the Sabbath, the family rested. On Sunday, Bradly would be left with his aging aunt Margery while they went and worked on their private affairs. Even though Bradly was lonely, and sad for a portion of the time, if there’s one thing for sure, Bradly’s favorite part of the day was playtime.



         Bradly often played. He lived in the outskirts of town, far away from any of the city kids at his daycare. He would play Cowboys, Cops & Robbers, and any other game he could think of completely alone. His only companions were the animals his family kept on his farm. He would act as though he was a Sheppard amongst the sheep, a famed jockey among the horses, and most interestingly, he would act as though he could speak to the goats. He would spend hours upon hours with the goats. Talking with them, laughing with them, he was closer to goats than he was with people. He even formed a strong ‘friendship’ with a goat he simply called “Mister Goat”

He was an elderly goat, one that was free from the slaughter. His previous owner had to move from town, and left all of the farm animals in the care of the Harrisons. Even then, Mister Goat was a fairly old creature. When questioned why he had such an old goat, while most never lived passed two years, he simply replied with the goat was intended for a “Private purpose” And left it at that. Thus, he was just kept as the family pet.



         One grim summer night, Bradly’s parents had to break the news to him. Mister Goat had passed away from natural causes. Poor little Bradly was absolutely devastated by the loss of the old goat. It was his only friend, and he was gone. For the next three months, Bradly sank into a deep depression. He would barely eat, drink, or sleep for the next few months. He would just sit around, and stare.



         One late evening, his parents had plans in the city, so they had to leave Bradly with his Aunt Margery. An old automobile pulled up to the house and out steps an elderly looking woman. A permanent scowl stained her face. Her ugly Sunday dress looked even worse in the direct sunlight. She met Bradly’s parents outside of the house. They told her that Bradly still wasn’t quite himself, and that she should probably keep a close eye on him. She quickly agreed, and the parents were off.



         Inside the house sat a sad, lonely Bradly. Twiddling his thumbs, all he could do was sit there and think. Think about how alone he was in the world. How much his little league team though he was a freak, how his parents never seemed to care about him, and how he lost his closest friend. His old aunt entered the room, and spat out some chewing tobacco.



         “Listen here you little runt, I’m going to help you get normal while I’m here. I’m so sick of seeing this pathetic sad sack of a child you’ve become. Now wait here. I’m going to take out the garbage.” Margery meant well, but her words seemed like nothing more than daggers to the sad child. Even his own family thought he was weird. He knew this to be true, and it only made him sink further and further into a slump.



         A few hours later, out of the blue, he heard a knock on the window. He looked, only to see a strange, tall, goat-like figure outside. It tapped on the glass again. It waved briefly. Its head was dawned with jewelry, and a crown with a small flame in the center. Its face was peculiar, though. It was almost rotting. Not that much, though. Only a few little wounds were on its face, nothing too major, though. The strange thing was, every time Bradly blinked or looked away, its face only seems to get worse, rotting away more and more.



         “Let me in, Bradly. It’s me, Mister Goat.” The strange humanoid creature beckoned. “Bradly, Let me in. I have such wonderful games to show you.” He knocked on the window again, his eyes never blinking. He slowly tilted his head to and fro, flies were accumulating around his rotting head. Bradly slowly crept towards the door. Unaware of the horror that was about to unfold.



         “But Mister Goat… If I open the door, Aunt Margery will get mad.” Bradly said, his voice noticeably filled with fear. His hand shook vigorously as he put it on the front door.



         “Don’t worry about her, Bradly. No one will be mad at you. I’ll take care of her if you. Just let me in.” Mister Goat continued to tap on the glass. His voice seemed mellow, almost soothing. Bradly gripped the door handle, but couldn’t bring himself to open the door. Mister Goat saw the fear welling up in Bradly’s eyes. “You’re scared, aren’t you Bradly? I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to protect you from all the mean people. I’m here to help you become normal. Just let me in, and I’ll make all the mean people go away.” The creature watched as Bradly shook in complete and utter fear.



         “Mister Goat… I don’t want Mommy or Daddy to be mad at me--” He sniveled and whined, hand still on the handle. The terrible beast was becoming noticeably inpatient.



         “Why must you stall, Bradly? Let me in. I’m so hungry. I’m dying of thirst. You don’t to kill me again, do you?” The beast held out its tongue. It was shriveled and discolored, barely even hanging on. Bradly let go of the door, and sat down. Mister Goat frowned through the rot.



         “Why did you die, Mister Goat? Why did you leave me?” Bradly frowned.



         “Life ends, Bradly. What matters is I’m back, and we can go on such wonderful adventures. Just let me in, and playtime can start” The monster put one of its bleeding hands on the window.



         “I’ll make them go away, Bradly, just let me in.” The abomination snapped. The fire from the top of the creature’s crown blazed horribly bright for a second, then died down. Bradly jumped back, and hid under the couch. The creature began to pound on the glass. “Bradly! Let me in! I’m only here to help you!”



         “Aunt Margery? Is that you? This isn’t a fun game.” Bradly cried in fear, and leapt for the stairs.

         “I’m not Aunt Margery, Bradly. I took care of her when she took out the trash. You’re all alone. Let me in, and you won’t be alone anymore.” The hellbeast almost smiled through its rotting face



         “You’re lying!” Bradly demanded trough the sobs. “Stop it aunty! Please! You’re scaring me!” The creature remained silent, and dug it’s dirty, deteriorating claws into the skin and fur of its neck. Slowly, it lifted its head clean off of its body. Bradly watched in sheer horror as the beast cackled.



         “The other kids make fun of you, your parents don’t love you, and your only friend is dead. You have nothing, Bradly. Nothing, but me.” The creature’s decapitated head chocked out. Bradly wept uncontrollably. He tried to form words through his tears, but to no avail. “Your mother and father will be home soon. They’ll blame your aunt’s death on you. They’ll get mad. They’ll yell at you. They’ll put you in a place filled with a lot of bad people. You’ll never be seen as normal again. You have no other choice. Let. Me. In.” The monster smashed its fist against the glass, cracking it. Bradly screamed and held his head. Finally, he was able to form a sentence.



         “What are you!?” He demanded. The horror cackled with delight, a fingernail fell from its bleeding hand as it slid its hand across the window. Worms and maggots crawled in and out of his rotting flesh.



         “It’s really simple. I’m you. I am the evil festering deep, deep inside of you. I am the corruption and hate in your heart. I am the beast you will become.” The creature cackled as bits of flesh and teeth flew every which way. The creature smashed his hand against the glass repeatedly. Blood covered the window, and the creature’s deformed hand became more and more mangled. “Let me in Bradly, or I will force my way in!” Mister Goat bleated wildly, his calls became more and more distorted and terrible; Bradly held his head and screamed to himself until suddenly, silence. His legs finally gave out, and he collapsed to the ground, and eventually into a fetal position, crying and sucking this thumb all the way.



         The front door swung open, two concerned voices could be heard “Bradly! Bradly! Where are you? Oh my god, Gerald, what if he got Bradly too!?” Misses Harrison ran into the living room, looking for her son. She found him on the ground, crying viciously. She embraced her son and cradled him gently. “Bradly, Shhh… It’s okay… Mommy and Daddy are home. What happened?” She tried to console her frantic son, wiping tears away from his distraught face. Bradly sniveled, his face as red as a rose. His eyes were bloodshot. She snorted and wiped his nose, and spoke softly through his tears



         “Mister Goat came back… He’s not very happy.” His mother had a confused look on her face, as a tall, Goat-like figure rose behind her.