My story.

Chapter One

The boy walked towards his new place of employment with a sense of displacement. ‘Surely this can’t be my life’ he thought, ‘such mediocrity and predictability could not be all his life would amount too.’ He had never met his real parents. He was instead raised with a group of homeless people until he was old enough to fend for himself. While on the streets the boy had learned to steal and fight for his food. Or at least this was taught to him. The boy himself preferred to con his money out of others. This boy had spent his life analyzing and observing people on the streets. He could tell what type of personality and reactions to various situations a person would have from just a glance. He could see through them all. He was good at what he did…and it bored him.
He watched as the people he thought so common made their way in and out of the general store in quick hurried predetermined paths. ‘Meaningless’ he thought. He had recently been caught by the cops for the third time and was threatened with imprisonment if he didn’t try to change. He chose to receive a job and work off his debt. However as he approached closer to the small double doors he felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time…something new, something that he was unsure of what it was. He, for no real reason, felt an overwhelming sense of dread from the store. The feeling grew in him the closer he got. It became almost overwhelming as he reached the front doors and put his hand out for the handle. The feeling wracked his thoughts and caused his hands to shake uncontrollably. ‘What is this feeling? Why can’t I touch the door? What is making me so afraid?’ A passerby knocked into him abruptly to enter the store, interrupting his thoughts, as the feeling dissipated.
The boy shook his head and walked through the doors inside the store. The store was unusually busy for such a small town. The customers raced to and fro collecting their goods as they spouted nonsensical niceties at each other. It was all so…predictable to the boy. He swayed to and fro between the meaningless masses as he made his way to what he knew to be the backroom. He didn’t know why he knew. It was just one of the many things he seemed to be able to figure out without actually thinking. Or maybe, it was because as he approached the feeling of dread returned once more with renewed ferocity. ‘This is ridiculous,’ he thought to himself as attempted to quell the terror that was building inside him as he opened the back room.
He peered slowly inside. Unsure as to what warranted such caution. His eyes scanned the room. There was nothing special about the dark dank room. Boxes were scattered to and fro with cleaning supplies lining one wall. He was about to call out for the one in charge when his eyes fell on a pile of broken bodies. The boy froze. ‘Where did that come from’ He thought. This couldn’t be right. His eyes fell up and down the bodies taking in all the gruesome details from the bloody disfigured faces to the misplaced limbs torn asunder. He watched in horror as blood swept across the floor towards him. His mind locked and he began opening his mouth to scream.
“Oi!” The boy’s scream was caught in his throat as he glanced over at a large man dressed in a uniform approached him. The boy tripped backwards and landed flat on his back. He looked over at the pile of bodies to discover it had disappeared. He stared hard for a second and then looked up at the towering man that now stood leaning over him. He was a stark white man with smooth black hair and beady eyes. “What are you doing?” he asked the boy.
“N-n-nothing,” the boy just managed to stammer out. The boy looked at the spot for a little while longer, disbelief and confusion in his eyes.
“You going to get up?” the man asked forcefully. He scrambled to his feet as the man grabbed his hand to help him up, his grip almost crushing the boy’s fingers.
“You should really be more careful,” the man said eyeing the boy with renewed interest, “Wouldn’t want my new lackey to get put out of work so soon.” The boy’s eyes grow wide as the man sauntered back to his office, dragging him the whole way, and swept him in. The man said nothing more to him as he closed the office door behind him. The man sat down at his desk and began rummaging through his papers quickly, knocking several stacks to the floor.
“Um,” the boy began saying.
“QUEIT!” the man yelled. The boy jumped visibly and his brain jumpstarted. ‘This man is dangerous’ he thought, ‘that much is obvious. I have to get away before he does something I might regret’ He immediately began analyzing the man as he had so many before him. ‘Control freak, violent nature, has problem with higher authority but does w/e it takes to get the job done. He probably doesn’t have any family.’ The boy’s mind raced as he tried to think of a way to use the man’s personality against him…but he couldn’t find one in the current situation. His mind was already too laden with surprises to function properly. He slid slowly towards the door as the man continued to rifle through the many papers on his desk in a violent manner. The boy reached the door as sweat poured down his face. He reached for the handle and turned it slowly. As he did so he peered at the man to make sure he wouldn’t notice. The door knob turned halfway then stopped abruptly. The boy looked down at it in a panic momentarily taking his eye of the strange man. He searched quickly for the lock to see that it had been reversed. It locked from the outside. ‘What the hell?’ He thought. The boy suddenly felt a hot damp breath running along his neck. He froze before turning his head slowly to see the man’s large broad face inches from his. The man had snuck across the room in that short time the boy had looked away.
“What did you see,” the man whispered. The boy attempted to back up but only met with the cold hardness of the concrete wall behind him. The man followed closely sticking his face even closer to the boy as his foul stench swept over him. “What did you see?!” The man yelled into the boy’s face. The boy’s terrified face slowly formed the words that somehow found their way out of his dry scratchy throat.
“I-I-I saw a p-pile of dead b-b-bodies.” The boy sat there against the wall unable to form the thoughts that so often overflowed in his mind. The man’s eyes grew wide at the news.
“Another one has shown up. Damn this place,” The man stood up and walked to his desk and sat down facing the boy still cowering against the wall. “There is too much bad history here. It tends to draw in…a certain type of crowd.” The man pulls out a pack of cigarettes and lights one up. “Do you know what you are? Do you know what you have the potential to become?” The boy says nothing as his heart races. He begins calming his nerves as he tries to analyze the situation and take in all that the mysterious and seemingly dangerous store owner was saying to him. The man looked down over at the child with boggled eyes.
“I can’t believe they make me work at this place,” said the man as his eyes drooped to there normal position and he gathered a more nonchalant tone. “It freaks me the hell out. They say I’ve lasted longer than any other agent on this post, though they also say I’ve lost some things along the way.” The boy watched carefully, letting the man monologue to him self. He glanced quickly around the room searching for weapons. His eyes fall quickly upon a strange sight he hadn’t noticed before, a wrench. It was just an ordinary wrench nothing special about it at all, but it was mounted on the wall like a trophy. The feeling of deep dread rose up in the boy once more. This time it was unbearable. He leapt up for the door and began beating at it. He thought of nothing but putting distance between the wrench and himself. He clawed and kicked at the door. His mind lost to the maddening aura it emitted.
The man stopped talking, brought back to reality by the boy’s frenzied assault, and quickly restrained him to the ground. The boy struggled roughly against his resistance, glancing at the cause of his horror. The man followed the boy’s gaze to the wrench.
“Oh! I see.” The man said, “It appears you’ve seen my pride and joy. I got that from the worst of your kind ever to have fouled the face of this earth with your stench.” The man got up dragging the boy by the scruff of his neck over towards the wrench. The boy began kicking even more wildly, sending things askew and instinctively yelling out for help.
“Hahahahahah!” the man cackled, “Scream all you like. My office is sound proof. I have to come in here when I’m about to have one of my…episodes.” The man reached the wall and pulled down the wrench while throwing the boy into the wall bringing back his senses momentarily. “Do you know what this is?” the man asked the boy, “Quickly before you are lost to its madness once more.”
The boy stuttered momentarily before he managed to spit out, “W-w-w-wrench!” The man cackled once more throwing his head back in his spasms.
“WRONG!” the man yelled into his face, “This is the most ordinary wrench to have ever existed…” The man started breathing heavily in his sudden flush of excitement. “I got it from a most unordinary man. I had to snatch it from his cold...dead…fingers.” The boy’s vision begins to fade as the man rants on, waving the wrench around wildly. “He was my greatest catch….” The boy now had no awareness of his surroundings. Only the complete terror the wrench emanated into him. The man, in his wild ramblings and exaggerated gestures catches the boy in the head with the wrench knocking him to the side. The boy suddenly breathes in very deeply and his vision reverses from total darkness to pure white. His body begins shaking violently as the white screen that was his vision begins to play images, flashes of pictures at first before converting to full movie form.