Gore
2: Meditation
3: Six Piggies and a Maggot
written by: Brian Williams and Jeff Mayberry
Chapter Two: Meditation
Seymore thumbs through the radio dial in his car while driving in the dark night. He hears an interesting news broadcast that catches his attention.
“Police arrived at the reported scene of domestic violence late last night.” “Witnesses report seeing a dark hulking figure leap from a fire escape.” “Four officers were brutally murdered, and a single word was written on the wall: Gore!” “Police are unable to obtain leads at this time, and refuse to comment.”
*Click*
Seymore ponders the effect of those broadcaster’s words in silence.
“Media.” “They’re neither cow, nor pig, nor wolf, they simply enjoy glorifying slaughter.” “Poor fools.” “They should worry about their own lives instead of worrying about the dead.” “Why is it, only I see things as they truly are?” “Society keeps those low starving, and the middle support the high.” “The high feed upon those lower for money, and amusement, in the name of law and order.” “Money is worthless.” “Numbers are worth more than the skill, and effort it takes to produce a product.” “Is that the American way?” “ Is everyone blind?” “Perhaps they have no other choice.” “ Perhaps they don’t know.” “ I will show them a new way.”
Seymore arrives home to his one room apartment. He places his navy blue suit, and rubber mask, stained with blood, into his closet. “I must meditate on tonight’s events.
Chapter Three: Six Piggies and a Maggot
“One Adam Baker: Rape in progress at 9th and 62nd. Please respond.” The police radio dispatcher’s voice bleats out through the crackling speakers of the squad car. The two officers look at each other with a common annoyance, as they both choke down their bear claws and coffee.
“Let’s get’em Chuck,” officer Bill Roberts tells his partner. Both officers dump their coffees and drive off, blaring the siren.
Two figures struggle within the confines of a dark, wet alleyway.
“Please, No!” a woman screams into the apathetic night.
“Shut up bitch!” a loud smack across the mouth is dealt out with vigilance as the stout assailant rips her blouse open. Her hair is matted now with blood and her nipples peek out of her brazier. The rapist licks his lips in anticipation. A dark figure looms down from a silenced repelling rig attached to the alley walls. He moves with the grace of a spider that has caught a fly in its web.
“That’s no way to treat a lady,” Gore announces his ominous presence from the dark. The rapist thug turns about to have his face meet a stainless steel meat hook. It punctures through the mouth and lower jaw and the end protrudes out of his neck with a splatter of red fleshy juices.
“You’re a diseased maggot.” “Few are more deserving than you.” Gore stares into the rapists eyes through an expressionless mask. Gore then flings the rapist over his shoulder and into a brick wall. The body lands with a meaty thunk and crumples to the hard cement. The woman runs over and clings to Gore for dear life. Her sobs are broken by her crackled voice. “Oh thank you, thank you!” She gasps chocking on her adrenaline filled tears.
Gore firmly pulls her from his breast and looks into her mascara stained eyes. “Go and find your destiny cow.” A whirlwind of pain and shock crosses the woman’s face as she runs out of the alleyway in terror for her life.
The sound of sirens and the familiar red and blue lights swim in a sickening composition outside the alleyway. Gore once again fades into the shadows to await his real prey.
Six boys in blue round the corner and peer into the dark alley with the aid of their flashlights. “Looks like we missed it,” a first year rookie meeks out trying to sound disappointed. Suddenly several rapid sounds of gunfire echo through the alleyway. Four dozen razor blades fly through the air with the greatest of ease. Four cops suddenly drop to the slick alley floor. Blood starts to pour out like small springs from the multitude of jagged wounds.
“Bill call for back up, call for back up!” Officer Chuck Farley squeals. Just then Officer Farley hears a sickening thunk sound from behind. Farley spins around to inquire about his partner’s well being, “Bill?” A cold rivet of sweat peels down his back. The pig known as officer Bill Roberts is standing near the outside of the alleyway with a bleeding hole in his forehead. His body gives out a nervous jolt and falls with a wet smack on the naked pavement. The rain puddles of the alley have turned red with blood and have begun to crawl up to the mirror shined shoes of Officer Chuck Farley.
From the inky blackness an eerie sound of metal biting into rock is heard as the cop looks down to notice, as pain shoots up his arm. His gun hand is pinned to the brick wall by a steel spike.
“Aaaahhhrrraaahh!!!” Officer Farley squirms as his bladder releases its fluids. Gore’s mask floats out from the shadows followed by his massive form and the gleaming metal and rubber of his polished weapons. “What are you?” Farley cries tears of pure terror.
“I am the future of your kind.” “I am Gore.” Gore removes a blood spackled drill with a lawnmower like rotor blade that extends from the bit. Gore begins to mock the man’s fear, “This little piggy went to market; this little piggy stayed home.” “This little piggy is gonna get chopped all to shit; then we’ll have pork chops.” Gore cackles and extends the rotors of his contraption and mangles the cops cranium. Skull and brain matter are flung as a gurgle muffled scream escapes the blood soaked alleyway.
