Hallowed Ground
Johnny remembered going to his uncles farm every summer to work. He would help with the harvest each year and in return his uncle abused him. When his uncle wanted his privacy he would pull Johnny by his long thick black mane, plunk him down in a chair, punch him square in the jar to stop him from fighting back, and then he tied Johnny up and left him for days. When his uncle remembered him again, he would shoot his shotgun into the barn where he left his nephew. He did this for fun. He wanted to see if Johnny could tip himself over to miss the bullets. Johnny always managed to move the chair back against the wall. His uncle never shot there. This chair now stands in Johnny’s storage shed as a reminder of what he endured. Now though, Johnny had the urge to do it to someone new.
February was such a cold bitter month. The kind where you piled blankets on and hid underneath them all to attempt at some warmth but failed. You dreaded coming out for food or the bathroom. You knew the floor was cold even with the fireplace going full blaze. Johnny had not gone outside in weeks. His mind replaying the hell his uncle put him through growing up. The trauma ran deep. No one believed him and when his uncle died, he left him that damn rotting chair. It was one last jab at his nephew, but now his nephew felt the pang of guilt for not utilizing the chair. Johnny would need to come out of hiding soon and hunt a new victim. The chair was calling to him and he felt lured into feeding it another human soul.
March came in like a lion. Snow melting, mud season in full blast, and storms like no one had seen before. Johnny had put the chains on his car, so it did not get stuck in the mess, as he veered onto the main road heading to get some supplies for the house, he thought “And just perhaps my first victim.” It was an afterthought that surprised even Johnny. Apparently, he was deeply troubled from his uncle’s abuse. He kept reliving it and had sought after therapy, but Dr. Johnson would not understand his need to act out what had happened. He knew he should make another appointment, but for now he would stroll in town and see if he could find someone to hurt.
Johnny thought, perhaps a small person he could subdue, that no one would miss. A tourist perhaps? People came all the time to his neck of the woods for solitude. He would say he had a room to let and bring someone to his place and then knock them upside the head, tie them to that chair, and use a silencer on a guy and take practice shots at them. No one would hear them scream, just like no one heard him scream. They were miles away from anyone else. Yes a nice young pretty tourist, a girl, he could grab her easily enough, but would he do with her after his fun? He could not just let her go. Johnny grabbed his provisions and headed back to his home miserable. Murder was not on the menu, but what was he to do with the person after his fun?
Johnny decided to shelve his idea but thought about what kind of person he could do sadistic things to who would not report it. He decided that perhaps a mentally unstable person. No one would believe a homeless person or someone unbalanced. No one listens to those kinds of people, but where did one find one of those people? Johnny went back into town and strolled the 2AM streets. He found junkies, homeless, and mentally challenged people walking the streets. Anyone of these people would do for his torture, but he looked at all his choices and the people seemed too strong to subdue. He was going to have to find a child. No one believed kids. They lie all the time. He kept walking till 6AM and realized the streets were devoid of kids at this time of night. Again, Johnny went home alone to concoct a plan to abduct a child.
Johnny decided to make an appointment with Dr. Johnson because in not doing so it looked like he was the unbalanced one. Dr. Johnson welcomed Johnny and they sat to talk. For the first time Johnny noticed Dr. Johnson’s family photos. Dr. Johnson had small kids. He was sure they must visit their dad at work. If he saw one here, he could easily lure it home and have his fun. He would lie about what happened of course. He would say the girl followed him home. She wanted to be with him. He would tell her that he had something special for her to see and that she was his chosen person. He would lie and tell her that her dad knew, and he was fine with her coming over. Johnny had a plan to lure her, he knew he could smack her easily around enough. He could put her in the torture chair and leave her for days. When he had his next appointment and the Dr. was a mental mess, he would mention he saw his girl wandering the streets or some crap. He would cover his tracks. Johnny smiled an evil smile at Dr. Johnson and walked out after another session of lies.
Back home Johnny dragged the chair out and placed it in the same space his uncle had, and he felt a tingling of what he thought was happiness fill his soul. He would soon be free of his pain and past trauma by doing this to someone new. He grabbed the chair and rope and put them in place. He could sense someone there with him. It was his uncle’s spirit taunting him from the unknown saying how ashamed he was of him for not continuing the tradition. How he was a loser and always would be. His uncle told him to use the chair and the rope. Johnny put the chair in the middle of this abandoned place. Johnny had to climb on the chair to place the rope. He made a loop and hung it off the last strong beam. He was ready. His uncle taunted him more and more and Johnny climbed on the chair, put the rope around his neck to shut his uncle’s voice up. He felt the chair move without him doing so and then Johnny swung there, dead, tortured again and waiting once again to be found.
