Read "Weirder Than Weird" 18 Bizarre Tales From a Disturbed Mind Page 22

Why the front gate of the prison lay open was a mystery but there it was, a beckoning pathway to instant freedom. The old man cautiously stepped into a blinding sun not seen by his feeble eyes for a very long time and a moment later compelled himself to run. By some miracle, his tired old legs found their youthful vigor and he soon set a pace that he never would have imagined possible, one fed by the elation of shaking off the misery that had been his life for over forty years. The crackle of rifle fire never followed nor the commanding voices of his despised captors that would stop him cold in his tracks by fearful obedience. He ran effortlessly through the cobbled streets of the surrounding village, his heart pounding out a joyful rhythm with every step as he distanced himself from that interminable nightmare.

  For the first time in years, he could feel the sun’s warming rays enveloping his pale body like a soft winter coat and to his delight, the laughter of children seemed to be all around him, a chorus of carefree voices in full bloom, lifting his spirits even higher. Rounding a corner, he came upon a grey haired woman in a flowery apron hanging the day’s laundry. As he trotted past her he spoke a friendly greeting and she turned to him with a bountiful smile. This newfound freedom began a stirring of sweet memories, the old woman invoking images of his own mother performing a similar chore from his childhood and his eyes started to mist over. For a moment, he thought that he would like to stop and talk, but his mind had always been bent upon a single desire all these years, that of being reunited with his beloved Susan and this would be his only chance.

  He quickened his pace until he seemed to be running at a full sprint and the village soon melted behind him. He could no longer hear the clapping of shoe leather against hard surface, the sound was reduced to a light crunching, for he now found himself treading upon a pathway of golden sand and a glistening azure sea spread out before him like a sparkling desert. He made his way down to the water’s edge and kicked off his shoes. An incoming wave reached his ankles, the cool water curling and caressing his tired feet. Falling to his knees, he scooped up a handful of wet sand and held it against his heated brow. A weariness suddenly came over him and he fell backwards, his limber body collapsing easily into the inviting surf.

  “I’m free!” he shouted to the sky, “After all these years …I am finally…FREE!”

  A dark silhouette framed by the burning midday sun suddenly appeared over top of him and his heart took a bounding leap. “Susan! My dear sweet Susan!” he shouted, but as he focused on the figure it was not that of his long lost angel but a man in uniform and the sun had now strangely transformed into a radiant light bulb dangling overhead by a thin wire.

  “Now old man, Susan wouldn’t be that dame you sliced up all those years ago now would it?” chuckled the toothless prison guard.

  The old man looked confused at first to find himself strapped into a large wooden chair but his cruel reality came flooding back to him in a burst of grim horror. Only moments ago his mind had managed to escape the confines of his nightmare but there was still a worldly price to be paid. The guard took a step backwards and motioned to a man on the other side of the window, a lever was thrown and the sun like bulb dimmed in response. The room filled with a terrifying hum as a million ravaging volts ripped into the wooden throne and into the old man.

  “Well, old timer,” the guard shouted above the crackle and hiss, “There’s really only one way for a man to gain his freedom from Crenshaw prison, and you, my dear fellow, have finally found it!”

  DEVIL’S TOWER

  “The following is an account of one man’s disturbing story--my own. I feel an obligation, however, to inform you that my tale takes a most bizarre and frightening detour from what most of us would consider, well, normal. Just a friendly warning.”