Musings From A Demented Mind by Derek Ailes, James Coon Read Free Book Online

the doorknob.  To his surprise, it was unlocked.  The music coming from her room was very loud.  He smiled knowing she wouldn’t be able to hear him coming.  He cautiously walked up the stairs.  As he reached the top of his stairs, he readied his knife for the attack.  He walked up to her door, which had a sign that said “Princess” taped to it.  He laughed because there was no way she would ever be accused of being a princess.
    He slowly pushed the door open.  She was sitting at her desk in front of her laptop facing away from the door.  He held the knife sideways ready to slit her throat.  As he grabbed one of her shoulders, her head fell forward hard onto the laptop.  The laptop, desk, and carpet were covered in blood and it looked fresh.  He lifted up her head and her throat was slit, and there were several stab wounds all over her body. 
    His anger was quickly replaced with sadness.  Someone else had exacted revenge on his love before he could.  He held her in his arms and cried.
    With the music from her radio blasting loudly, he didn’t hear the police sirens approaching or the police running up the stairs toward her room.
    “Drop the knife!”
    Holding her tightly, he looked back toward the two police officers who were pointing their weapons toward him. 
    Covered in her blood, he dropped the knife and said, “I didn’t kill her.”
     

                  Master of Discontent
     
    I’m not sure when I arrived, but I’ll never forget my stay. 
    When I found myself in a large cavern, the odorous scent of the brimstone stung sharply in my nostrils.  I staggered to my feet, but was immediately forced back to my knees by a large cloud of burnt sulfur gas.  When my bloodshot eyes had adjusted to the dimness, I was able to survey the rocky environment.  It consisted of rock and active volcanic fire.  My position was near the base of an underground cliff.  The sheer drop was approximately eighty meters.  The ceiling was perhaps three hundred meters above me.  It formed a dome at least ten kilometers around.  The length extended as far in either direction as could be seen.  Scattered within were countless stalagmites and stalactites.  Some of the former were burning fiercely and eternally.  It was these stalagmites that illuminated the chamber.
    “Good eternity!” boomed a guttural voice behind me.  “I’m your host!  You may address me as Mephistopheles!”
    I whirled around and there through the fading mist I glimpsed a tall mysterious man.  “Welcome to my humble abode.  I hope you will enjoy your visit.  And now, if you will follow me…”
    His voice trailed off.  I must admit, I was dumfounded.  This Mephistopheles was a tall, immobile figure.  He was wearing a hooded, black cloak and black Russian Cossack boots.  A gold link chain fastened with a silver inlay dagger was around his waist.
    “Silver,” he remarked, “is sometimes necessary in controlling our more excitable guests.  You shall be assigned to rock and coke detail. Quarry Eight.  Since you had a flawless record on Midgard, you are hereby appointed Quarry Master.  You’re quite lucky.  Most new arrivals are made into carriers.”
    We walked along for a couple of yards when an anguished scream rippled through the heavy silence.  Acting as though nothing had happened, my new master continued on the journey toward the mysterious Quarry Eight.  Suddenly, another scream rang out.  Seeing I was becoming more and more cautious, my companion began to chuckle.
    At last, we came to our dismal destination.  A more retched place can’t be imagined.  The entrance was nothing more than a three meter square opening in the wall.  From it a slope led downward at an acute thirty degree angle.  The walls were encrusted with fungus and large splotches of algae.   Here and there on the floor were puddles of green slime.  An odor of decay heightened the air of despair.
    Then I saw the slave