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Rage

Rage

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Published by E. T. Brother
Patrick Thompson is taking his first vacation in three year. He decides to leave at night and to use the back roads to avoid a lot of traffic. He soon discovers that this was a bad idea because he will soon be meeting up with a psycho in a pickup. His night drive to start his vacation soon turns into the night drive of terror. He will soon be pursued by a psycho in a pickup who seems determined to make Patrick`s trip a white knuckled ride.


Patrick Thompson is taking his first vacation in three year. He decides to leave at night and to use the back roads to avoid a lot of traffic. He soon discovers that this was a bad idea because he will soon be meeting up with a psycho in a pickup. His night drive to start his vacation soon turns into the night drive of terror. He will soon be pursued by a psycho in a pickup who seems determined to make Patrick`s trip a white knuckled ride.


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Published by: E. T. Brother on Nov 22, 2012
Copyright:Attribution Non-commercial

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07/19/2013

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 Take my hand and come with me into the darkness. We will have to travel to theback of my mind, back to the darkest, deepest crevice of my mind. We will have totravel to my hidden secret room.'Turn the lights on' you say. Im sorry to say lights don`t work in here. Last week Ibought the most powerful flashlight known to man and even used the best batteriesavailable but that light would not cut into the darkness.Have no fear, don`t be frightened, nothing can get you in here. I have all the nasty,scary stuff locked up. They can`t get through the door, it is made of solid steel. Whyis this door open? Oh dear God the room is empty.What is that noise that I hear, is it a snarl? What is that near the floor. The red glow,they look like eyes. Oh dear God it is the demon dog, it has escaped. Quick take myhand, lets go. Faster, faster the demon dog is nip, nip, nipping at your heals. Quickin here, hurry. Oh good the door is shut and we are safe in the secret room of mymind.Have a seat get real comfy. This will only hurt for a moment and then you will feelno more.What, no I didn`t say this will only hurt for a moment and then you will feel nomore. You must have imagined it or been confused, I would never have said that,not out loud anyway.Oh dear God, don`t move a muscle, I wouldn`t twitch if I were you because TheFiend stands right behind you and he would rip you limb from limb. Oh good TheFiend is gone. That was very close for you because he had a twinkle in his eye and if you had of moved or even twitched he would have pounced and shredded you limbfrom limb.One thing, before I leave you with this story, if you should hear a rapping or atapping coming from the door behind you, I would advise you to ignore it. Thereason I tell you this, is because behind that door, is the nastiest, scariest of thebunch. One look into its eye and your sanity would be no more. Your sanity wouldpack and leave. You might ask if you looked into its eyes and your sanity did depart
 
when you could expect it to return. I would have to say 'Im sorry to say, if you everdid look into its eyes, your sanity would evermore be on permanent vacation,nevermore to return, and to this I can add no more because there is nothing morethat can be said.Can you tell I have been listening to The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe? That was sort of Poe, Stephen King, and myself all wrapped up together.I have to tell you Rage is a rough draft at this time so it may change. I have neverposted a rough draft before, well I take that back, my original novel The SkeletonMan and The Lunatic was a rough draft and I see where that got me. What is thatGod awful stench in here, oh it is my copy of the original The Skeleton Man and TheLunatic. I really should get rid of it but The Invisible Man broke the long handledtongs last week using them to hit the baseball around and Im scared to touch it withmy bare hands. That rubbish might rub off on me and then I would evermore bedoomed to write rubbish. I would nevermore be able to write anything good again.Where`s my gas mask? Ah that is much better.I wouldn`t post this but The Blind Man told me he was reading it and he was feelingit. When I ask him how the hell he could read it since it isn`t in braille, he told me'trust me I wouldn`t lie to you.' Well I know for a fact he would lie to me because just yesterday when I ask him who drank all the good liquor he told me The InvisibleMan did it. I happen to know for a fact that The Invisible Man is on vacation in theBahamas right now so he didn`t do it. I have that on good authority, by the way,because there have been numerous sightings of him. The Blind Man`s breathalmost knocked me on my ass and he was slurring his words very badly so I knowhe drank up all the good stuff. You may be wondering who The Blind Man is, he is the muse in the basement. He isthe one with the talent, he comes up with all the good ideas. Well except for thattime last month when he thought it would be a good idea to go skinny dipping in thelake and ask those Nuns if they would care to join us, that was a really bad idea. Hetried to tell the cops it was my idea. Most of the time The Blind Man sits down in thebasement drinking the good liquor, smoking my good cigars, and hollering aboutme getting him a steak. I really don`t know why I put up with him, other than hedoes come up with some pretty good ideas some times.
 
 The Blind Man is mostly okay but if he ever tells you he is a great driver don`t listento him. He can`t drive a lick, he likes to try to drive off cliffs. Hey why is the carmoving? Oh crap I have to go The Blind Man is in the drivers seat and we`re headedfor the cliffs. I have to get him out of the drivers seat and take over the drivingduties. Now on with the story.Cover designed by monique from Tagger`s Tavern You may post this story elsewhere if you would like to. All I ask is that you leave itas is and post a link back to this website http://etbrother.weebly.comRageby E. T. Brother© 2012 by E. T. BrotherA free short story by E. T. Brother. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are aproduct of the author`s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance toactual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental."When we remember we are all mad, the mysteries disappear and life standsexplained" Mark Twain

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