Some of you (yes, you know who you are) have wanted to hear more about the massacre at Gory Graduation High. So, for all you sickos out there below is the latest chapter from this infamous 'lost' slasher shocker ....
Gory Graduation: Chapter 18
'She's such a betty, I can't stand her!'
Paul turned his head away from Terri and rolled his eyes. Here we go again, he thought to himself.
'You know,...' Terri continued in-between noisily chewing on her bubblegum, '... Sherri thinks she's Farrah. More like a bottle blond Nancy Reagan if you ask me!'
'I didn't' Sam muttered.
'Oh sure, you've got a hard-on for that hairdog. Well, you would have ....' Terri smirked, before blowing a bubble with her lips for dramatic effect, '... if you didn't have such a boner for Mr Tucker.'
Sashaying ahead, her ample backside straining against her Levi jeans; her pixie boots sending gravel flying in every direction. Terri turned to Sam, dropping the carryall with her graduation robes in it onto the ground. She noticed his scowl 'Hey Mister don't blame me if you've got something for that Barney. I'm a modern type of gal.'
Blocking the path she jutted one hip to the side and pouted, before blowing him a kiss. 'So, why exactly did you drag me long for this romantic rendezvous anyhoos?'
'For Chisakes, Terri. You dragged yourself along and you know it!' Sam bit his lip and refrained from saying what he was thinking – everyone else had dates for Mike's party. He doubted that Terri, despite her bravado, would relish turning up on her own. 'Besides, I'm only here because Mr Tucker was so desperate to get that book back. Guessed he didn't want to loose it once we fled the nest. Not that I would, but you know ...'
'Yeah, yeah, Romeo. ... Anyhoos, what note. Let me see!'
'Look Terri, it's almost dark. The sooner we drop this off the sooner we can be sinking a cold one at Mike's.' Sam looked along the path beyond Terri, towards the drama hall; its gothic spires silhouetted against the sky that was fast darkening from a velvet blue.
'Hee-hee. I know what you'd rather to be sinking tonight, Sammy boy!'
Sam rolled his eyes again. The only way to shut her up would be to show her the note. 'Look, here you go – if it'll shut your trap for more that five minutes.' He pulled the bit of paper from his shirt pocket and handed it to her.
With one hand on her hip she unfolded the note with other, all the while fixing Sam with a salacious grin. Shaking her fringe out of her eyes she glanced down and then immediately looked crestfallen as she mouthed the typed words. 'Please bring me back the dramatic arts book before you leave on graduation day. It's very important that you do. I'll be in the drama hall from 9pm. Thanks, Mr Tucker. '
'Like I said, I'm just dropping the book off. C'mon let's get going ...'
Indeed, she's managed to keep her trap shut mused Sam as they descended the stairs in the drama building to the auditorium in the basement. Just before walking out into the hall he turned to see Terri paused half way up the steps behind him, her eyes glistening in the dim light.
'Yeah, I know its weird to think this is probably the last time we'll be in here, isn't it?' Sam smiled sympathetically up to her.
'Yeah, this is where me and Sherri shared our first bean. You know, ... Still, its all about new beginnings from now on. We've got the rest of our lives in front of us ... Blah. Blah. Blah!'
'Ah, yes, that's back when you and Sherri were best buddies. What exactly happened between you two anyway? ... You've been at each others throats since prom night.'
Terri's face hardened, and she came barging down the stairs flattening him against the wall as she burst out into the hall. 'The less said about that night the better ... Mr Tucker', she shouted. 'MR TUCKER!' Her face softened and she giggled, stage whispering, '... you Motherfucker!'
Sam looked at her in mock horror, but Terri just gave him a wink and strolled across the polished wooden floor towards the stage area. 'You sure he said 9 o'clock?'.
'Yeah, I'm sure.' Sam looked around the hall. Everything looked the same; so reassuring – and he couldn't help get a lump in his throat. At the back of the hall French doors looked out onto the back yard, the glass now almost black against the twilight; reflecting the lights hanging from the beamed ceiling above. Along both side walls hung the heavy red drapes he'd played peek-a-boo with his classmates only a few short years ago. Chairs were still piled precariously on top of each other by the steps leading up to the stage. Everything looked exactly the same as was the last time he was here.
'Anyhoos, stop your day dreaming.', Sam snapped back to himself as Terri bellowed across the room in her best booming foghorn. She was standing by the stage, a giant pink bubble growing from her lips until it burst over her nose. She grinned, pulling back the curtains and peering behind. 'HELLLOOOO!!!', she bellowed into the darkness behind.
'Do you think I should just leave the book here, or maybe take a look out back?', shouted Sam at Terri's back.
'Whatever, there's some crazy shit back here! C'mon take a look, Sammy boy.'
'I don't think we should go poking about if Mr Tucker's not here, Terri...'
'Oh, you party pooper!', Terri
pulled back the curtain and stepped behind.
Despite himself, Sam couldn't help crack a smile. 'Very funny, Terri. ... C'mon, time to go. If Mr Tucker was here he would have heard that, for sure.'
'Terri?', Sam called out from the bottom of the steps but the only response he got was a slight echo of his own question. 'Right, so now the silent treatment ...'. He started to climb up to the top. Grabbing the edge of the curtain he whispered, 'Come out, come out, whatever you are!'. Sure that Terri would be just behind waiting to blow a raspberry in his face, Sam yanked the curtain back only to stare at an inky emptiness stretching towards the dark shadows at the back of the stage. Strange, he thought. Looking to his right, one of the props from the stage version of the Wizard of Oz, the scarecrow, hung forlornly off his perch. The rest of the stage was depressingly empty. Behind the scarecrow a door was open, leading to the dressing rooms behind.
'Ok, two can play at this game ...', Sam said to himself. He walked as evenly as he could across the boards without making them creak. Terri must have gone into the dressing rooms. He glanced behind him across the still auditorium. He wouldn't put it past her to sneak around the back and try give him a scare from behind, but there was nobody there. All was eerily still, and he couldn't help feel a little spooked despite himself. As he crossed the stage he stopped in front of the scarecrow, somewhere there was a tap dripping. Drip, drip, drip. There was something sticky under his sneaker, Sam looked down at a dark puddle spreading around the base of the scarecrow. He barely registered that a dark red liquid was dropping from the straw at the end of the scarecrow's arm before a sudden sound behind him gave him a start. Spinning round, Sam saw what looked the blackout curtains at the other end of the stage billow and a figure emerge from behind. Whoever it was was dressed in graduation robes.
'Oh, Hi ... have you seen ...', Sam started to call out over, but stopped dead. The figure looked up – there was nothing beneath the mortarboard, only blackness where a face should have been. As the figure moved from behind the curtain Sam saw that they were grasping something metal. He stood there transfixed, on a precipice between rapidly growing terror and still clinging onto the hope that this was some kind of sick joke. The bloody scarecrow and the figure in black carrying an .. axe!
Sam began backing away, his sneakers sliding on the bloody floor. He managed to keep his balance as he watched the figure gliding towards him slowly and methodically. Sam let a laugh out despite his precarious situation – this phantom was on wheels! Suddenly, whoever hid behind the mask picked up the pace and began tearing towards him on roller skates of death. Robes billowing behind as it bore down on him silently, the axe raised in both hands high. A blur of metal tearing through the air.
Snapping out of his terror just in time, Sam turned his back and fled. The sound of skates smacking on the boards and sliding across them ringing in his ears, and driving him on. Operating on an almost feral fear he ran past the open door leading to the dressing rooms, smashing his shoulder on the frame. Lights were on in the corridor beyond, the door at the end he knew led to the back entrance; he ran as fast as he could towards it, past the doors to the left to the individual dressing rooms. Skidding to a stop at the far door, he grasped the handle. Aware of the gathering blackness at his shoulder, and the sound of wheels clattering fast behind him Sam yanked madly at the handle. Slippery in his hand it wouldn't budge. The door was locked!
With the silent Banshee bearing down on him Sam turned on his heels and burst into the dressing room to the left. He felt a rush of wind at his back; hearing his dark assailant slam heavily into the locked door behind him. Sam turned and pushed the door shut as quickly as he could, glimpsing the figure right itself and look towards him with its face like a never ending void into blackness. He pushed his back heavily into the door, his heart in his throat as he waited for what seemed like an eternity. Feverishly he looked around the room for any other means of escape, but the only way out was the small window above one of the dressing tables on the far wall. He could make it, but he would have to take a run for it - and that would leave the door unguarded. Trying to decide what to do he pressed into the wood for all he was worth. Sam felt his body suddenly jerk as the door buckled violently and then with a second bang it began to splinter. A third whack and Sam could see what was happening, as the tip of an axe smashed through only inches from his head!
He backed away from the door, ready to turn and make a break for the window. He knew that whoever was on the other side of the door didn't know he wasn't still holding it shut. .. Whack! ... Another slice of wood and splinters fell to the floor, light shining through from the corridor behind. Sam watched terrified as the light was suddenly consumed by darkness – whoever was out there was looking at him!
He turned and bolted across the room. ... Thwack! ... Thwack! ... He jumped onto the dressing table and tried to scramble onto the ledge under the window. Thwack! ... The door creaked and groaned as it began to collapse in on itself. He couldn't bear to look behind him as light spilled into the room, and a shadow crept in behind him. Sam tried to pull himself up onto the ledge, but his fingers couldn't grip and he fell awkwardly onto his back. His head fell back, his blond hair hanging down. He saw the figure in to the graduation gown standing in the doorway, an axe silhouetted at its side.
Sam knew that this was it. All his hope and dreams dashed, just because some silly prank had gone so damn wrong that warm night only a couple of months back. They had done something they should never have done, but who had known it would end this way?
His voice felt strangled, but he managed a 'Please ...'. The figure in the doorway didn't move. Sam opened his mouth to plead again for his life, nothing came out – but there was another voice. From down the corridor Sam heard a gruff shout, 'Oi, you varmint what kind of fresh hell is this?'
The figure turned and looked down the corridor, making no sound.
It's old man Ezrah! He never thought he'd ever be so happy to see the crotchety old caretaker. He saw the broom before he saw Ezrah, as it jabbed at the figure's graduation robes. 'What have you done to my door, boy?!', Ezrah's head poked around the door; his eyes growing wider seeing Sam struggling to get to his feet in the room beyond. 'Now this just gets queerer!', the old man elbowed his way past the black clad figure and was edging towards Sam, a look of concern and confusion blossoming on his face.
For a few seconds Sam thought that this might still have all been some kind of terrible joke at his expense. Thoughts that were violently dispelled as the figure behind Ezrah appeared to rise up behind him like a giant crow opening its ebony, nightmarish wings. Above his head a flash of metal, the axe came down suddenly. The force drove the old man to his knees, as the weapon sunk deep into his head with a sickening thud. A red ribbon widened from the tip of his skull to his upper lip. His head split open like a gory taco shell, blood bubbling from the fresh wound. Sam watched in terrified awe as the old man's eyes rolled back into his head and his split dentures tumbled from his mouth onto the floor. Ezrah's body hung there for a moment as the weapon was yanked out with a sickening squelch. Sam saw the next flash of the axe as the metal glinted dully from the light behind, swinging horizontally quartering the old man's head; a mist of red hung in the air. The top two sections of what had been Ezrah's face flew in separate directions, one momentarily sticking to the back wall. One of the old man's disembodied eyes seemed to watch Sam as it slid to the floor leaving a wet trail behind.
The figure circled the twitching corpse, and Sam watched as the axe was raised and brought down in a rain of blows. Again and again. He knew that this frenzied attack was his only chance of escape. Propelling himself away from the dressing table he ran at the door, past the flashing images of metal, blood sprays and dancing black cloth. His single-mindedness to escape was only broken when the door frame exploded by his head. The axe had missed him by inches and was now lodged in the wall.
Sam turned and fled down the corridor back towards the stage. Taking a stolen glance behind him he saw the figure working the axe out of the wall, before appearing to take a small circle on the skates as if they were at a roller disco. Soon the familiar noise, as the skates began gaining momentum in the corridor behind him.
Sam burst onto the stage and almost immediately began to skid out of control on the blood that had now pooled around the stage exit. He careered into the scarecrow, sending a mixture of straw and what looked like entrails and body parts scattering across the stage. He didn't stop to take note; managing to keep on his feet Sam tore through the curtain and down the steps into the auditorium.
He bolted halfway across the floor before he turned. Behind him a sudden whoosh. Through the heavy red curtains came the figure, like a devil spat out of hell. Arms wide, Christ like – the axe held at arms length. The illusion was of a giant black bird taking flight; rollerskates hovering in mid air before coming to land with a crash. The figure didn't fall, but stretched their legs, their robes flapping behind them, picking up speed; semi-circling back towards him.
Sam ran to the stairs. Like an ever present demon, the figure was on his tail. Taking three steps three at a time Sam climbed. Half way up he looked back down to see the figure struggling, their rollerskates slipping on the steps away beneath them like an angry wasp. Sam couldn't help but let out a triumphant cry; but the cold blackness of the faceless thing staring back at him, now still, curdled his joy in his throat. He scrambled for the top, daring one last look down. The figure was nowhere to be seen.
Sam ran down the deserted corridor towards the main doors. The only thing worse than having that thing snapping at his heels was not knowing where it was. Bursting through the main doors and out into the dusk he risked a gulp of the cool dusk air. Everything looked so normal outside, but everything had appeared so normal in the drama hall only minutes before. Before death had arrived.
Sam could feel his nerve endings fizzling. He rocked on his sneakers, not knowing which way to run next. The tree lined avenue back down to the main school buildings had always been so benign, but now they could hold any kind of threat. Deciding that whatever was out there sure as hell beat what he'd just escaped from, Sam ran down the steps and along the wall towards the path.
Without warning he was on his back, a body blow knocking him flying. Stunned, Sam lay there on the grass; the first stars appearing in the sky above him. Just as suddenly he was pulled to his feet and he was face-to-face with Terri; her eyes wide and her cheeks streaked with tears.
'Oh my God. Sam, I thought ... I thought he got you!'
'Terri. What the hell is going on. I've just seen someone kill old man Ezrah ...'. He spluttered, 'He tried to kill me!'.
'I know, I saw him. I was just goofing around. ... It it all happened so fast.'
'Look, Terri ...', Sam glanced behind him at the main doors, they were still closed. 'We have got to get the hell out of here. Go to the police. Warn the other kids there's a killer on the loose on graduation day! ... I can't freaking believe it!'
Sam took Terri by the hand and began pulling her towards the path. 'NO!', she hissed. 'Not that way. I saw someone in there when I came out and hid. We better go the back way.'
She took him by the hand, a strange look in her eyes, and led him back towards the drama hall.