Tuesday, October 15, 2013

The Sad Story Of Holley Weane: The First 3 Acts

Introduction:

Holley Weane was the ultimate mean girl, she had it all, popularity, wealth (her parents were loaded), and beauty that only mommy's money could buy. Seriously, by age 18 she had more plastic in her than a life size Barbie Doll. She dated the captain of the football team, Dirk Derringer, drove a brand new Ferrari, that Diddums gave her for her birthday, and was the fashion guru of the little town of Eerie. Her father was the king of Coffins, his company held the monopoly on making the most ornate and elegant dead-boxes in the world all for the rich and shameless. He had build his business out of his parents' garage, much to their dismay, and by age 45 had turned it into a multi-million dollar company. Holley's mom was a former beauty queen winning the Miss Eerie Pageant 10 years in a row, more than any other spoiled debutante in the area. Of course, time and a hefty charge account at the local plastic surgeon had taken its toll. Holley had it all, and yet she wasn't satisfied. There was always something missing. Now for most of us that might have been love, self worth, a feeling of accomplishment, and such. But not for Holley, no Holley thirsted for the one thing money can't buy, happiness. Diddums bought her anything she wanted, mostly to keep her and her whiny voice as far away from him as possible. Mommy dearest loved one thing more than Holley, her friend Jack Daniels, and she visited with him often. Holley had no brothers or sisters, just 6 annoying Pekingese that dominated her families attention far more than she ever could. Yes, she had to compete with the little flea bags and distilled whiskey just to catch a moment of their time. Rather than drown out her empty life with riches and the myriad of Gucci purses to place it in, Holley despised anyone who could achieve the contentment in life that was void from hers. So, to relieve her broken heart, her and her troop of Stepford daughter friends would incessantly torture anyone within their visual scope who didn't measure up to their Gold Mastercard standards. Their favorite victim was Gertrude the resident nerdette, who had the nerve to value her school work and treating people with decency over Pandora bracelets, obscenely bejeweled I-Phones, and the religion of Designershoeism. Gertrude dressed plainly because her dad and mom worked hard for everything they had and spent the money they earned frugally saving most of it, so their only daughter would have a future. I mean she actually had to shop at Goodwill rather than just buy stuff like they did to be trashy chic. How dare she. Holley had committed the remainder of her High School senior year to tormenting Gertrude until she could break her completely.


Act 1:

The fall dance was coming up soon, it had been a crisp October and the fallen leaves left a thick covering on the ground. Holley was going to be crowned the Autumn Princess and had just purchased the most expensive dress Diddum's money could buy. It was a short, shoulder-less, strapless, crimson red dress that brought out the deep green in Holley's eyes. She would be the absolute belle of the ball yet again. She had already won the two seasons before. So as she was discussing the way she was going to run up her parents credit cards at the local Salon, Gertrude made the unfortunate mistake of walking by the stone bench where they were sitting. Holley couldn't resist the chance to once again torment her oblivious arch nemesis. Gertrude had also made the mistake of wearing her torn jeans, worn hoodie, and glasses that day. Not a mistake to anyone in the norm, but for a predator like Holley it was like a drop of blood in a pool of sharks.

"Well isn't the fashionista of Eerie High," she began, "looking fine, Diva, was Goodwill closed and you finally had to resort to outright dumpster diving." Gertrude continued to walk by, she tried to play like she had her ear buds in and couldn't hear them, it would have helped if she could have afforded an Ipod to plug them into. Holley springs up and blocks Gertie's stride and any hope of escape. "I was talking to you freak, " she growled, "or are you as deaf as you are fashion blind!" Gertie looked down at her feet, just waiting for the encounter to be over. She figured, "they'll talk their crap, mock me, and then get bored, I can take it." Boy was she wrong. "Look at me, you mutant, " Holley screams! Now there had to be dozens of students in the quad that day. Do you know that not one of them stopped, despite the fact Holley's voice could strip the marble off of a tombstone. "Cowards come in all shapes and sizes, and there is never a shortage of them," Gertie thought to herself. She had been mercilessly picked on by Holley for three years now, everyday, no relief, no good reason other than Holley's cold dead heart.

Gertie looks up almost involuntarily to stare deep into those emerald eyes, cold dead eyes, like a doll's eyes. "When I speak, you listen, you little skank, " Holley continues, "now give me your shoes, if you are going to look like a homeless person, you need to complete the ensemble!" At first Gertie is dumbstruck, "did she really just ask that?" "I mean, she has been evil to me before, but just words, this is a whole new level of torment, " she thought. Despite Holley's bellows and lack of concern as to who may hear or see her, no one stops, no one even looks her way. She desperately searches the quad to make eye contact with just one soul, one person who might actually care. She is left wanting. "No I won't give you my shoes, " Gertie mutters, barely able to conjure the courage to resist her adversary!

Holley's defiant stare could melt steel. "Oh really," she replies, her attitude so thick you could serve it in a bowl with oyster crackers! "Girls, " Holley commands, and like mindless robots the three debutantes arise and surround her! "They must communicate telepathically," Gertie thinks to herself as her fear mounts, "but then that would require brains." Gertie's attempt at internalized humor to relief her anxiety falls monumentally short.
"One more time, little orphan Annie, " Holley directs, "give me your freakin' shoes!" Gertie stands her ground, she is shaking the gravel loose from below her feet, but she stands as firm as she can none the less.

"Fine," Holley relents, "We will do this the hard way, geek!" Suddenly Gertie is off her feet and looking up at the sun and clouds as if she is levitating. The girls quickly, in precision unison, flip her up and rip off her shoes and socks. "What do they train for this, " Gertie's mind races. Before she can react she is thrown into the grass face first. She can hear her shoes thump into the nearby garbage can, she is sure her socks followed them down. "That's what happens to little creeps who don't obey the law of this jungle, " Holley commands! Gertie tries to rise, her face covered in grass and dirt. "Walk to class like that now, cow, " Holley laughs as she concludes the torture, her girl droids join in. Holley and her troop walk off, giggling in contentment as they disappear from her view. And still no one stops to intercede. "Apparently," she thinks, "they were sent the email or text on the whole law of the jungle thing!" Gertie gets up and tries to dust herself off. Then she realizes that she has had the fortunate pleasure of being dumped in a spot where a dog had dumped earlier. I am sure that was pure coincidence.

She picks up her glasses, which now have a sizable scratch on the left lens.
But she refuses to cry, to even shed a tear, she won't give them or the heartless minions around her the satisfaction. She begins to limp to class. "Well it has to get better from here, " she muses! She cracks a smile through her grass stained face. Despite her stoic exterior, inside, she is weeping so hard she feels like she will lose her balance. Is there any justice in the world, anymore. Do girls like Holley ever get what they deserve.

Little did Gertie know, her question would be answered, with ghoulish consequences.


Act 2:

After facing the entire day barefoot, yes not even the teachers noticed, because then they would have had to ask questions, Gertrude trudges home. Although she is truly a good person, one of the last of her kind, she can't help hoping, wishing, even silently praying within her mind that Holley would get her "come up ens." Why do the truly evil people always seem to flourish in this twisted, sad world of ours, while the earnestly good either struggle daily or just die young. She makes it back to her trailer, Mom still at work, another double at the diner, and dad, well only God knows where he is. He left to get milk and eggs about twelve years ago, there are some long lines in grocery stores, but even she knows, that's a little much.

But all of that is little concern to Miss Holley, who too is at home, trying on a bevy of high ticket dresses in front of her dopey disciples. Diddums had taken the time to buy out one of the local boutiques so she could try each an every one on in the comfort of their plush, million dollar mansion. As she admires herself time and time again in the mirror, she finds that she cannot keep focused on her own beauty, something that usually comes with great ease. No, there is something distracting her from herself, and it most be pretty important as that is a rarity. Suddenly one of her mindless minions comments about how much fun she had tormenting Gertie and why should such a homely creature even exist. "She just takes up space, " she giggles tossing back her peroxide laden locks from her recently redone face. "That's it, " Holley realizes, "it is that ridiculous girl that is sucking all the fun out of being me!"

She must pay for such a crime, but how? How do you punish something that has nothing, you can't take anything away, she is so poor she probably can't pay attention. Holley giggles to herself, it's an oldie but a goodie. But seriously, no matter how she tortures the girl, drags her down, makes her the mock-fest of Eerie High, she still keeps coming back, like a roach or bad acne. How can she remove this thorn from her perfectly toned, tanned, and freshly softened flesh? She has little mind to work with, but she pushes it to its very limits. You can see the veins pulsating in her neck and forehead as she forces concentrated thought. Her brain dead flock seems clueless to her struggle, but they would be no help anyways. They almost share a brain. Besides they are too busy admiring Holley to care for anything or anyone else, as it should be.

Then, after several minutes of intense mental negotiation and almost wetting herself in the process from the sheer force of will, it arises. If she can't be shamed away, maybe she can be scared away! "Eureka," if only she new what that word meant, "I'll scare her so bad she will never show her gruesome face again," she announces within herself! But she must do it alone, her gal pals don't exactly do well with secrets, there is no governor between their ears and mouths. This has to be a lone wolf mission, perfectly executed down to the last detail. But what could she do? What would truly scare such a pathetic child, I mean her normal life is scary enough as it is and her fashion sense is downright terrifying.

What could truly and utterly scare this little minx? Then it comes to her. Only one thing, one thing, has truly terrified the children of Eerie High School since they were old enough to gurgle and spit. One story that every mom and dad tells their rugrats when they have been so bad their parents can't even see straight. One tale that is the last resort of discipline among the quaint cookie cutter families in this miserable little town. And as much as they try to deny it as teens, it still gives them a major case of the willies every time it's mentioned. If she can pull it off, and make that story come to life, real, believable life, her enemy's willpower would never stand a chance. There is no way she could come back from that, it's the perfect steel tipped boot to remedy such an annoying pest. But could she really, truly pull it off? Well, if evil and pure meanness where dollars, Holley would be a rich little princess, and as a matter of fact, Holley is a rich little princess. If anyone could make it happen, Holley would!

Bring to horrifying and unforgettable life, the haunting and terrorizing story of the Monster that hunts the grounds of Eerie Cemetery!


Act 3:

Fast forward to the night of the Fall Ball. Holley's plan was working flawlessly. Everything was falling, so perfectly, into place. Gertie accepted Brad's invitation, she was hesitant at first, even suspicious, but Brad poured it on thick and won her over. It was his best performance ever, off the field, that is. Gertie even bought herself a new dress from the Mall, a real dress, "must have spent her life savings on it," Holley thought to herself. A deep crimson red dress, with spaghetti straps and hemmed up high to show off her legs. A thought that made Holley cringe. "At least she will finally have to shave them," Holley mocked. Her minions were still blissfully unaware of her devious plot but her Beau helped her every step of the way. Even Savannah had come through as she showed Holley the illustrations of what her creature creation would look like carefully sculpted on her boy toy.

With only hours before the dance , Holley donned her eloquent gown, after her marathon spa treatments, tanning, and make over, she calls the blond squad to her home. They arrived and huddled in the grand dining room as Holley unveiled her plan of mass destruction against the nerd nation's queen. They giggled and cackled as each gruesome detail was revealed and pledged their undying loyalty, once again, to the diabolical diva. Her Beau arrives and the well manicure motley crew head out to Eerie Field to execute their strategy.

Savannah puts the finishing touches on the fabricated freak with only minutes before Gertie and Brad are to arrive at the field and have their fraudulent breakdown. He looks as horrendous as Holley had conceived. He takes his spot among the tall grass and thickening fog. Holley is safely concealed behind the Hallow's old, abandoned shed sitting ever so posh in her Beau's overpriced convertible. They will never see her but she has the best seats in the house and can see the entire field. The rest of her crew is at the other edge of the field, hidden by the mist but able to see it all from their distance. Savannah pulls away and all that is left is the wait. The suspense is almost unbearable for Holley. Soon she will have her ultimate revenge and it will be ever so satisfying.

She checks her I Phone, Brad should be here by now. What could be the hold up? The fog deepens. The cold begins to make its way down Holley's spine, haunting her skin breaking it out into thousands of goosebumps. "It's so cold, Brad better step it up, " she shivers.

Still nothing, now he's five minutes late. The anger begins to well. The wind howls and the grass submits to it over and over again. The stars are hidden, the fog is thick on the ground, and the clouds thicker in the sky. It is pitch black and visibility begins to decay.

Now 10 minutes have passed and still no Brad and his ignorant date. Holley doesn't know what is more prevalent, the chill of the night or the ire in her gut. She can no longer see the field in the scope and clarity that she did before. The wind is wet and her dress begins to dampen. It is the prefect white, sheer lace layered dress, with satin green piping. The most expensive dress in the entire town. Custom made just for her. She would be the absolute Belle of the ball, but that was nothing new. Beneath it, a pure white corset and petticoat. Her heirloom pearl earrings and necklace the perfect accents to her ensemble. But all of that stood null next to the desire to exact her vengeance. The dress and the ball were only the frosting and cherry on her cruelly created cake.

15 minutes and still no Brad and his hapless victim. Holley finally exits her royal chariot out of pure, unadulterated irritation. She stands in the grass, her pristine white satin heels assaulted by dirt and dew. "Where the hell could they be!" Just as she is about to scream, she hears a growl swimming in the wind. She turns and quickly scans her surroundings but her line of sight is only a foot to two in front of her. The fog has engulfed her and she is lost within it. The growl gets louder. She frantically looks about but she can not ascertain which direction its coming from. It is surrounding her. The wind picks up and she is slowly becoming drenched by the whipping mist.

The growl deepens and sharpens. Fear has replaced frustration, anxiety has begun to tear way at her confidence. She moves closer to the shed, the only thing she can make out clearly. The growl is immense, filling the air and gnawing at her flesh. She feels her way to the door of the shed. The black sky reflecting off the fog makes it look like she is floating through space. She finds the door and opens it, sliding inside. The growl shakes the decaying building, but it is on the outside. She can barely see inside the shed, but she makes out a shovel laying on what is left of the floor. Her breath quickens, as does her heartbeat.

She pulls the shovel from the rotted floorboards, weeds, and dirt and holds it up. The growl thunders once more and she prepares for the worst. She knows what is hunting her, she doesn't believe it, but what else could it be. And where is her Beau? He has had to hear it? He has had to have heard it, how could you not! "Oh my God," she gasps, "Has it gotten him!" Suddenly the shack begins to violently shake. The boards begin to vibrate loose, rusted nails break free and fall to the ground. The fog quickly creeps in through all the gaps of the dilapidated structure. It encompasses her feet and carpets the ground. The growls reverberate through the building, assaulting her ears and infecting her mind with terror.

Then just as it seems the chaotic cocktail of sound and violence will meet a horrific crescendo, it all stops and silence pierces and fills the darkness. Holley stands there as the world becomes motionless, lifeless. The air is stale and stagnate. The fog sits heavily about her feet. The wind retreats as does any and all sound. Only her breathing and rapid heartbeat can be heard. She glances around trying to make sense of her surroundings. Her concern for her boyfriend, eclipsed by her own dire predicament.

She peeks outside through a gap between the boards but sees nothing. It was all on the outside, but how much safety can this rickety old shed provide her. "It can't possibly keep whatever is out there, from coming in here, "she begins to weep!

Then the growl returns, slowly, subtly. But this time the direction is acute. It is behind her. She can feel the breathe of it on her neck. It has been inside with her the whole time. She didn't run from it, she ran to it. She grips the wood handle of the shovel tightly, the splinters dig deep into the palms of her hands. The growl intensifies. Fear assaults every inch of her body. Then remarkably, unbelievably it speaks. "Hello, Holley, you look absolutely delicious the evening," it snarls menacingly. How does it know her name? She can feel it right behind her, a scaly hand begins to graze her arm rising to her shoulder and back down to her wrist. Her bare skin recoils at its touch. "It's time you pay your Granddaddy's debt, " it growls. She can't turn around. The terror has completely paralyzed her. "And I have waited such a long time, for such a tasty treat," it laughs with a laugh that would haunt even death itself.

She musters all of her strength and prepares to turn around until she feels a sharp pain in her wrist and then something wet sprays on her face. She feels pressure release from her grip on the spade. She looks down and only one hand is now holding the handle. Instead, her other is laying on the ground, quickly being devoured by the fog. She can't scream, the pain is outnumbered, outweighed by the fear. It has numbed her voice. The blood sprays on her dress, leaving random patterns of crimson starkly contrasted against the white lace.

Then she feels her neck being pierced and its flesh torn. It is all moving in slow motion. She is part of it and yet disconnected from it. She feels it pull a chunk of flesh off and the stark and merciless pain reminds her of exactly where she is. She screams and the sound fills the shed. It only excites her attacker who drags its claws across her cheek below her eye. Blood streams down her face and mingles with the gushing liquid already emanating from her neck wound. Suddenly, she is lifted off the ground and all she can see it the rotted ceiling with the sky peeking through the few boards that remain. It roars with delight as she comes back down on her stomach and face and feels it bite deep into her back. Its teeth wrap around her spine and she can feel the bone and muscle shred. She falls to the ground, immersed in her own blood. The creature roars again and the shed shakes.

She can barely breathe, and moving is no longer an option. The creature bends down and hovers above her. What little starlight sneaks into the shed and illuminates its features. A man with the face of a serpent, black eyes, blacker hair, and her blood covering its mouth, staining it long, pearl-like fangs. He is wearing rags for clothes, barely covering his scaly green and grey body. It just stares at her with its lifeless eyes as she gurgles on her own fluids. "Now, you will know what it is like to be a monster, " it grumbles, "but wait, you already know, don't you." It begins to laugh again. "You'll live, Miss Holley, but you will wish you were dead, and so will all those around you!"

Holley is fading into unconsciousness, the mixture of pain and horror are too much to bare. The creature stands and takes the blood stained shovel that is now laying next to her body. It places it against the wall and jams it between two boards. "And now, I can be free of the curse your family bestowed upon me, " it snarls. "But before you sleep, know this, " it continues, " the monster that murdered all those people 50 years ago, was not me." "It was your Grandfather, a monster in a three piece suit who had an insatiable taste for blood!" It then takes the handle of the shovel and with all its force it rams its own chest into the blade. The shovel tears through its chest and exits through its mutated back. The creature slumps forward so the entire shovel, with the exception of what is wedged, passes through its body. It collapses onto the wall, gasps its last breath, and then moves no more. Its lifeless corpse held up by the handle.

Holley falls into darkness, no longer breathing, no longer aware of anything. The world fades to black and time stops. She is gone, her memories dissipate, her identity becomes more and more a stranger until everything falls into absolute silence.

She awakes standing in the middle of the cemetery, in front of the shed. She has no idea what has happened, no idea where she has been, how much time has passed. All that is there is an unmistakable hunger and a darkness that flows through her veins. She feels the evil warm her like a soft down blanket. It gives her peace and strength. She smiles with a sense of satisfaction she has never experienced before. As she does she feels her long, sharp fangs scrape against the sides of her mouth. She looks around through the still night as the fog retreats from her presence to reveal what is left of the body of her Beau beneath her. He has been torn apart, pieces everywhere. She can feel his blood in her mouth and dripping down her cheek. Before she can react to it, she notices, there are body parts everywhere. She knows what they are as the torn fabric litters the grass. She steps back and gathers her thoughts.

Before her lays every one of her fembots, disemboweled and dismembered in the most gruesome of fashions. Instead of panic, shame, and sorrow she is filled with a great sense of horrific joy and pleasure. She cackles in gratification and roars loudly. The field fills with her shrieks and growls. The monster has been reborn, and Holley could not be happier. The curse makes the evil, beyond comprehension. It has not transformed Holley, rather it has amplified the monster she always was. It released all of the malice she had bottled up for so long. And now, she could exact her revenge, not just on Gertie, but the entire town. Who could stop her? Now that beauty has become the hellish of beasts!

Suddenly a truck rolls up and the engine sputters. Holley spins around. Fresh meat has arrived, the sweetest kind!

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