Read Online Mischiefmakers: Dark Macabre by Maasi Smith - Free Book Online Page B

surprise. We already had the dope for you. We
was just waitin’ to give it to you.” Marty stands for a few moments,
waiting for a response. There is none. He peers around in the dark.
Suddenly a small, sharp piece of broken glass stabs him in the
arm.
“Aw shit!” he screams. “What the fuck you think you doin’, boy?
You don’t know who you messin’ with! You see, that weakling role
I play on the streets is just an act so I can set people up, like them
bitches. Now you about to see the real me!”
Marty grips the knife tightly. Taking silent steps, he cautiously
walks into the shadows. The figure darts swiftly in the background,
into another corner. Marty sees this movement from the corner
of his eye and smiles. “I see you, man. Why don’t you come here?
Maybe we can work this shit out.” He folds his knife and puts
it into his back pocket, then pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a
lighter.
Lighting up his cigarette and taking a big puff, he stares around.
He hears Donald’s frantic breathing somewhere. He believes he
has Donald cornered. He takes his time pulling a few deep drags.
Catching a glimpse of the trickling blood flowing down his arm,
Marty becomes infuriated. “Damn, man! I see you ain’t tryin’ to
work this out, so I’m left with no choice but to cut your fuckin’
heart out!” Smashing the cigarette under his ragged shoe, he pulls
out his blade again. “Awright! Now it’s time to party.”
Marty again brandishes his knife, while picking up a bottle and
hurling it into the shadowy corner, where he thinks Donald is hiding. The bottle smashes. Glass flies everywhere. The figure darts
away, with Marty giving chase again. Running around and between
old factory machinery, Marty keeps the figure closely in front of
him. His heart is pounding with the chase. He picks up bottles as
he passes them and hurls them at his intended victim. Missing the
figure, the bottles smash against the walls and concrete floors, mini
explosions echoing throughout the halls. Marty laughs and smashes
more bottles against the walls. Panting heavily now, his lungs ready
to explode, Marty yells, “I see ya. I see ya. You ain’t gettin’ away!”
The chase lasts only a few minutes. It ends with Marty slithering like a snake through a half-open window into an alley on the
far side of the factory. Exhausted, Marty crawls out, plops on the
    credit to : drakhenliche
    ground, then begins to laugh and cough as the figure stands in
front of him, barely visible. “Thought you’d get away, did you?”
Marty asks sarcastically. The shadowy figure drifts backwards,
deeper into the veil of darkness. “Come on out now,” Marty
shouts, “and take your medicine, boy!”
    Out of the darkness, a black raven emerges. It stands motionless as it investigates its surroundings and watches Marty collect
his breath.
    “Get out of the way, bird!” Marty yells, while walking toward
the dark corner. The bird impedes his progress by roaming in
front of his every step. “I said get out of my way!” he screams,
threatening the bird with a brick. His threats are to no avail; the
bird does not budge. Marty hurls the brick at the raven. The brick
stops mid-air, inches away from the massive bird. Marty’s eyes
pop wide. Then the brick vanishes. As a winter breeze rushes
through the alley, Marty clutches his arms, trying to stay warm
while he gazes at the bird staring at him. “What did you do with
that brick?” The bird’s eyes light up like a brilliant emerald flame.
With merely a glance at this strange phenomenon, Marty is subdued. The bird backs into the shadow and all that can be seen are
the blazing eyes, the body no longer visible. Abruptly, the eyes
split into four, then six, and they keep splitting. Marty is stricken
with fear. He can’t move.
    Without warning, a large bolt of lightning flashes across the
heavens. With a thunderous rampage, a huge downpour instantaneously develops. Rain pours down on Marty.