The Riot

My newest entry into Chuck Wendig's weekly flash fiction contest. his website here:      http://terribleminds.com/         

Lately I started watching the show Prison Break, which is a great show full of interesting characters and some of the greatest tension in television history. Anyway, it inspired my story for this week.

                                                                  The Riot

                Run. Must run. Faster and faster. Ow, dammit I tripped. Come on, have to get up and run. Can’t get caught, if they catch me they’ll rip me apart. Being a prison guard wasn’t usually that dangerous. The convicts almost always went after each other instead of the guards because it was easier and, to be honest, no one really cared if a prisoner stabbed another prisoner. But tonight, tonight was different. The air had gone out. It was not long before they started getting mad. Then furious, when the guards tried to force them into their cells they attacked them. Stole their keys and were flooding through the prison, toward me. Now it was dangerous, much too dangerous for my taste. I had to get out, I gritted my teeth, took a deep breath and sped up, trying to reach the entrance before the prisoners reached me first.

                Hahaha. I haven’t had this much fun in years, six years in fact. Since they locked me up in this box fun hasn’t really played a big part in my life. Oh, but now it was, so much fun to be had. I love starting mayhem and when the air went out and those guards started shoving us around I knew it was the perfect time. I stabbed one with a shank I had planned on using on some unsuspecting inmate; don’t know who, hadn’t decided that yet. Once I stabbed that guard, all hell broke loose. Roundabout 20 others jumped on the remaining guard and beat him to death, stole his keys and made their way. Me, I stayed behind for a bit. Little bit of privacy for me and my…new friend. He just whimpered and started crying, pleading for his life with this sad pathetic look in his eyes. I love it when they do that, it’s the best part. I smiled and leaned in closer, staring deep into his eyes as I slid the knife up in between his ribs and into his heart, nighty night friend. I wiped the blade clean and continued on, determined to find more prey before the fun came to an end.

                I can hear them behind me and I was lost. I don’t know how I got lost, I’ve been working here four 4 ½ years and not once have I ever gotten lost, but somehow in my frenzied panic I did, indeed get lost. This is not good. I can hear the prisoners getting closer. Chanting something unintelligible, but it can’t be good. A split ahead, crap which way which way…left, I’m going left. I slipped as I made my way around the corner, catching myself as soon as I hit the ground and jumping back up. I didn’t give myself time to catch my breath, just a pause, a deep breath and then off I go. I don’t know where I’m going, but I’m getting farther away from the riot so that’s good. It had to happen in A wing. That’s where all the dangerous prisoners are, mostly murderers and rapist…and a single, solitary serial killer. If it any other state he’d probably be on death row, but this state doesn’t have the death penalty so he was thrown in with the rest of the violent offenders. A madman they say, and I have to deal with him on a daily basis. I learned not to look in his eyes; it’s the most unsettling thing I’ve ever gone through. Those cold dead eyes, light blue like chips of ice that seem to stare right into the deepest part of you. Like he’s staring at your deepest darkest fears and memories and laughing at them. At the thought of him I speed up slightly, I’m getting farther from the riot, but you can never be too safe.

                This one tried to fight back, oh how cute. Probably doesn’t feel like fighting back much now, what with the missing fingers and all, cutting off fingers with a prison shank is not an easy thing to do, but I pride myself on my resilience…plus most anything can be accomplished with the right amount of force. He was much younger than the other ones, mid-late twenties I’d say, and I had a knack for this sort of thing. Actually, I have a knack for most things, waste of talent is what my psychiatrist said. Didn’t really say anything after that, mostly just gurgles. Not very strong psychiatrists. This prison guard on the other hand, pretty strong, probably worked out every day.  Well, not anymore, I don’t think I’ll kill him, just leave him here, missing fingers and toes. Good luck oh brave one. Quick tip though, next time a 6’2” 200 pound delusional schizophrenic comes at you with a knife with blood soaking his clothes, just lay down.

                I made oh thank God I made it. There’s the door, I finally made it, I never thought I’d be so happy to see an exit sign in my life. I must have made a right turn somewhere because here was freedom right in front of me. I stumble out the door and am met with the sight of several guns pointed at me. I need to find a new line of work.

                Oh damn I can hear the cops outside. Well, guess the fun has come to an end. I see an unsuspecting inmate in front of me, I slam his head into the wall and drag him into a deserted bathroom. I strip myself down and wash all signs of blood off of me. After readying myself I punch the mirror and take a piece of glass and give myself a few cuts. Then I slam my body into the wall a few times for some bruises, after checking myself for blood again I put on the unconscious man’s clothes and get him into my blood soaked ones. I smile and make my way back to my cell. I haven’t had this much fun in a long time.

Three...Extremes Review

I'm gonna be honest. I think Asian countries do horror alot better than America does, for the most part at least. I think it's because countries like Korea and Japan have such a higher tolerance for messed up stuff. I Saw the Devil is one of the greatest movies about a serial killer I have ever seen, and yet that movie probably would of never been made in America because of how disturbing it is.

Anyway, in 2002 a horror film came out called Three. It was comprised of three different segments from three different famous Asian directors from different countries: Kim Ji-Woon, the director of I Saw the Devil, (South Korea), Nonzee Nimibutr, known for his horror film Nang Nak (Thailand), and Peter Chan, surprisingly known for romance and action movies, (China). I haven't actually seen Three, but this was just background info.

Three...Extremes was released in 2004. Not being a direct sequel to Three since, you know that movie is just 3 segments that have nothing to do with one another, rather it follows the same idea, by taking three famous directors from Asian cinema and having each one directing a 40 minute horror segment. The directors are Fruit Chan (China), who is pretty respected in his country, but I have personally never seen anything else by him.Chan Wook-Park (South Korea) who is my favorite director, I pretty much love everything he does. Takashi Miike (Japan), who I love for his insanely unique visual style and his almost unparallelled diversity, seriously he's made splatter movies like Ichi the Killer (which I love), straight up almost porn movies like Visitor Q (weird movie, I think he was trying to make some sort of statement, but I was to weirded out by the incest and what not), to family movies like Zebraman (its weird, but freaking awesome).

The first segment is Fruit Chan's "Dumplings". Personally I find the three segments to all be completely different kinds of horror films. With Chan's being the disturbingly gross kind. You know movies like Hostel. Except its not really a splatter film, its just extremely messed up...okay maybe its nothing like Hostel...not sure where I was going with this. Anywho, the segment is about an aging actress Mrs. Li (Miriam Yeung) who goes to Aunt Mei (Bai Ling) who cooks special dumplings that supposedly have a regenerative property. Its a great tale about the effects of aging, especially on celebrities, and the lengths people will go to retain their youth. I won't spoil the secret ingredient to the dumplings because its something that has to be watched to be properly disgusted by. Also the last shot of the movie is probably one of the most soul sucking depressing things ever.

The second segment is "Cut" by Korean director Chan Wook-Park. Again, keeping with the different kind of horror aspect, I personally think Park's reflects the realistic horror. Like its a bit of a far fetched concept, but can technically happen. It concerns the Director (Lee Byung-Hun) whos travels home only to be knocked out and wake up on a film set looking at the Stranger (Lim Won-hie) standing over him and his Wife (Kang Hye-jeong). You learn that the Stranger is a disgruntled extra who is mad at the Director for being seemingly perfect while he is a failure. Its a very well made film, what do you expect from Chan Wook-Park? There's alot of moments that you laugh at not really because they're particularly funny, but because you have to relieve the tension. Its again, a realistic approach to horror with the violence being gruesome, but not over the top. Its easily the best segment of the three.

The final segment "Box" hails from Japan and is directed by the mind-f*ck master himself, Takashi Miike. I'm gonna be completely honest right up front. I have absolutely no freaking idea what is happening in this segment. Something about twins, and an abusive father, there may or may not be incest or one of the twins gets burned in a fire or something. Seriously, its confusing as hell. and to top it off the ending doesn't really tell you anything. Its left open to what was real or not, but the whole thing is so surreal and bat shit insane that you have absolutely no idea what is happening. And it is genius. No, seriously, it is. You may have no idea what's happening, but that doesn't stop you from watching it. Its so strange and other worldly that you have no option but to continue in the hope that you'll figure something out. You probably won't, but its entertaining as hell and is the segment with the most horror aspect. Just straight up freaky crap happens in this part and very little of its explained but damn is it scary and weird. I don't want to give away much, but if your scared of Siamese twins like I am (I don't mean to offend Siamese twins but....damn they scare me) you'll be pretty terrified.

All in all Three...Extremes is a fantastic little gem of Asian horror. Each segment is about 40 minutes and lasts just long enough to unsettle you, but not too long to where you get used to the horror of it. The terror of each segment just builds and builds until it reaches its peak...and then it ends. Its perfect that way. As soon as you get used to the particular form of horror the segment is going for it ends and the next segment starts and scares you a completely different way. Whether its psychologically terrifying or realistically so, there's a segment for every kind of horror fan and each one works in its own right. 

Three Truths and A Lie

 This is a story I did for Chuck Wendig's weekly flash fiction contest. You can find his website here: http://terribleminds.com/. I highly recommend giving it a look.

                                                      Truths and A Lie

Three truths will I tell you and one lie.

1.       I did not mean to kill her.

2.       I did mean to kill him.

3.       The child’s death was an accident.

4.       She wanted to have sex with me.

So, if I’m writing this from a prison, which I’ll never leave, what’s the point of lieing?  I don’t know.  Just to mess with you. My story, like any other, starts with a beginning.

                I was 24 years old and a hitchhiker, for no other reason than I didn’t want to work, but I wanted to travel. Traveling was my dream and I was afraid that if I took a job I would be stuck in it forever and never be able to travel. So, I decided to travel first, doing odd jobs along the way to earn just enough money to get me to my next destination. Sounds fun right? Like a happy go lucky road trip about an aimless drifter who eventually finds love or something and at the end of the story settles down. Nope, nothing like that at all. I did find love, but it didn’t exactly end how you would hope.

                I met Adam and Amy halfway through my journey across the United States. I started in New York and was halfway through Kansas, which by the way horrible state, boring as piss, when they picked me up in their car. They were a nice couple, both extremely pretty people with a beautiful child of their own, James. I only asked for them to take me a couple of miles, but it turned out they lived a few hours away and offered to take there where they offered me a meal and a night’s sleep. Right? Way too nice and trusting, but I agreed, of course I agreed. So after three or four hours of driving and a riveting patty cake tournament with little James (who was four), where he thoroughly annihilated me , we arrived at their quaint little farm house.

                Turns out both of them had been born into rich families and when their parents died they both inherited large fortunes. What the hell are the odds of that? How many times in the history of ever has that happened? I realize maybe now it may happen more, but they met at school…in California, just happened to meet and go on a date and fell in love or whatever. They only learned after the fact that both their families were extremely wealthy. The hell fate? Anyway, they told me their story, which while it had an interesting opening with the whole rich families thing, it soon descended into boringness. With them detailing their travels, which was my dream dammit, and how they ended up living in Kansas (trust me not as interesting of a story as you might think).  They didn’t do it in a condescending way or anything, it just happened to be part of their story. Either way it pissed me off, I was born into an extremely poor family with an alcoholic mother and an abusive father (Jesus…I just realized my life sounds like the plot of a terrible gangster movie) and all I wanted to do was travel, but instead of flying or whatever I was forced to hitchhike my way across America.

                Anyway, I ended up staying for about a week, taking advantage of their hospitality and what not because…screw you they were rich and I was jealous. I found myself thinking more and more about Amy as I lay in the extravagant guest room at night. She was a perfect specimen of the human race, straight auburn hair, gorgeous sparkling blue eyes, and a body that would convince any priest to turn away from little boys (Ha topical humor). I thought maybe it was love, but I had never really been attracted to anyone before, so I wasn’t sure. Either way I found myself increasingly obsessed with her, thinking about her constantly, stealing glances at her and staring, and having very vivid fantasies and dreams. I wanted her so bad it started to cloud my mind; no other though was cohesive or precise.  Everything in the world seemed muddled and confusing and everyone else’s voice sounded so dim compared to her angelic one.

                One day I couldn’t take it anymore and I decided to proposition her.  I told her what I thought about her and essentially begged her for sex. To my complete shock, she said yes. So next time her husband and son decided to go shopping she elected to stay behind. It was amazing, the best sex of my entire life. It was passionate and loving and just so damned amazing. The hour her family was gone was the greatest hour of my entire life, but of course they returned. Of course they returned early.

                Adam as far as I could tell up to that point had been very level-headed. But walking in on me and his wife naked, I’m pretty sure something snapped. He lunged at me from the open doorway. I jumped out of the bed and ran down the stairs desperate to get away because I knew in a fair fight Adam could rip me into tiny bloody shreds.  In the kitchen I found a knife, he rushed at me and I stabbed him. He fell, and in my moment of power I took it too far, stabbing him over and over and over to satisfy my lust, I had never felt so powerful. Eventually, someone grabbed my arm; I whipped around and stabbed without looking. It was Amy. Of course it was. She fell. I stood there in horror. I saw the kid, James; he ran up the stairs, I of course gave chase, had to try and explain. He tripped going up the stairs, fell and broke his neck. The prosecution tried to tell a different story, that Amy was already dead when Adam got home. That Adam was running from me and that I threw the child down the stairs. This is how I remember it.  But seeing as I’m writing this in a maximum security prison, with two guards standing directly over me watching my every move I guess I could be wrong. But this is the event as I remember it. My attorney tried to plead insanity just because my mother suffered from schizophrenia and drank while she was pregnant with me. What does he know? He wasn’t there, I was. So which one is the lie you ask? Honestly, I can’t remember. Good luck.