The Damned Thing Adaptation

The aroma of popcorn filled the nostrils of the police chief as he entered through the light blue double doors of Theater 12. Candy wrappers, empty soda cans, and leftover kernels of popcorn obstructed his way to the crime scene. He strolled through with a quite confidence, the badge on his right shoulder shining in the dim light that illuminated the little hallway connecting the huge section of leather seats and the lobby of the movie theater right outside. As he approached the main section of the theater, the sound of sobbing and a person trying to reassure someone filled his ears. A police officer standing over a limp, seemingly lifeless body entered his vision on the left where the row of leather-cushioned seats started across the whole room.

            “What do we got here, Anderson?” the police chief asked to the young police officer, probably in his early twenties.

            “Sir, I got called here at approximately 6:51 PM for an emergency situation. They said it was a stabbing…I got here as soon as I could. From what I’ve searched, he’s still alive, but barely breathing,” Anderson remarked with an obvious tone of nervousness. “The paramedics are on their way.”

            “Were there any witnesses?” the police chief replied back as he bent down to examine the body.

            “Yes, his wife...”

            “Alright, I want you to take her back to the station…”

            “One more thing, Chief Taylor, we might have a problem.”

            “What?” Chief Taylor questioned as he turned his head at Anderson, his eyes narrowing with curiosity, but at the same time he it said with a manner of arrogance as if Anderson was questioning his authority.

            “Sir, I don’t know…”

            “Well, which is it?! Do we have a problem or not?!”

            “The victim has no wounds or any indication of any signs of struggle, sir.” Anderson replied avoiding the police chief’s menacing eyes; he was looking down staring at the blood-stained carpet that used to resemble light purple. A pool of dark red surrounded the body.

            “What the heck are you talking about? There’s blood everywhere!” Chief Taylor piped. He proceeded to examine the body turning it over. Anderson was right. The body had nothing. He could tell that the poor man was still alive; his chest was moving up and down.

            Anderson didn’t know what to say and stayed silent while leaning up against one of the red-cushioned seats beside the body. Chief Taylor looked up, the angry look that donned on his face earlier was gone, “Do you know his name?” he asked.

            “Connor Bradshaw, sir, I looked at his wallet,” Anderson quickly replied.

            The police chief stood up now, looking around. Anderson observed him intently, waiting what he will do next. Chief Taylor now looked at the victim’s wife intently as if he was on to something. His natural instincts that separated him from all the regular cops took over. He walked over to her.

            “Mrs. Bradshaw, I’m going to need you to settle down and step aside with me please,” Chief Taylor calmly told the weeping woman sitting down a few feet from the body. The police officer that was watching her took this as a cue to leave the two alone and left.

            Between her non-stop crying, she managed to utter out an “Okay.” The police chief stared with a concerned look on his face. He could tell that she was an attractive woman. She wore a lime green tank top with jeans, and was probably in her late twenties. He assumed that she and her husband couldn’t have been married more than five years.

            “Ma’am, I just need you to tell me what happened.” Chief Taylor said.

                   *                                     *                                     *

            I stared at the police officer that stood over me. How could this guy ask something like that at a time like this? I thought. The badge on his uniform told me that he was probably someone important and probably wanted his authority to be respected.

The image of my husband in a bloody mess couldn’t be wiped off my mind as I continued to cry. After a few seconds, with the cop waiting for me to talk, I managed to say, “I’ll try my hardest to recollect on what happened.”

“Any kind of information would be helpful…I’m sorry but have I introduced myself? My name is John Taylor, police chief here in Beaumont,” he said with an air of confidence, especially in that last part.

With that, I started my story through my crying: “My husband and I usually go to the movies on Saturday nights and tonight was no different. He really wanted to see the new scary movie that came out just last week- you know what I’m talking about? It’s called Dead at the Box Office.”

The police chief nodded approvingly, but something told me that he probably didn’t know what I was talking about.

“So, we sit down right over there, right where my husband is now, at the end of that aisle, and we were just watching the movie. I remember there was this really scary part where the kid in the movie gets decapitated by the monster, and as usual there were some screams from the crowd. That was when my husband toppled from his seat and he just started to scream while on the ground. He was rolling over as if something was hurting him. I don’t know what it was, but he was yelling for someone to stop. I could tell he was in deep pain. I saw blood too, but no one did anything to him. I don’t know where the blood came from. I just hope he’s alright…”

That was when I couldn’t go on any longer and I started weeping like a baby again.

                        *                                     *                                     *

            The police chief couldn’t believe his ears at the witness’s testimony. In his mind, he thought that in the twenty- seven years he served in the police department, this proved to be the strangest and most pathetic lie he had heard.

            “You’ve got to be kidding me. You really expect me to believe that? I’m not stupid you know.” Chief Taylor barked at her. He yelled it with the most intense look on his face. The poor woman that helplessly sat in front of him couldn’t do anything but look at him in terror.

            The woman was telling the truth at least from what she saw. It was obvious by the way she reacted to the police chief’s brief outburst. The terrified look on her face looked too real and certainly couldn’t have been faked easily. Plus, the body of her husband still lay flat on the floor a few feet away and she couldn’t possibly have any other intentions other than find out what had transpired during the incident. Chief Taylor realized this and turned away in discontent.

            At that moment, three paramedics, wearing the familiar green overalls with the blue paramedic logo on the left breast pocket, walked in. One of them carried a bright orange box, which looked like a tool box, while two pulled along a stretcher.  The three able-bodied men quickly examined Connor Bradshaw lying on the ground, and in no time had him on the stretcher. As they were about to roll him away, Connor touched one of the paramedic’s arms, hinting them to stop.

            One of the paramedics turned to look at Chief Taylor and Connor’s wife and declared, “He wants to talk to both of you.”

            Linda Bradshaw jumped from her seat and ran to his side. The three paramedics stepped back out of her way. She hugged him as if they hadn’t seen each other in years. Chief Taylor followed; his swagger gone. He looked dazed and confused. Connor looking up from the stretcher glared at the both of them. His whole face and body seemed to be covered with blood. The black hair that flowed from his head was the only thing that didn’t resemble any kind of red blood on his body. The significant amount of blood that he lost weakened him to the point to where he could barely talk.

                      *                                     *                                     *

            “I’ll tell you what happened.” I groaned at the police chief. I let out a little cough; I knew I was dying, but I need to get this out of my chest.

            I immediately went on, “As I sat watching the movie, I felt an invisible force coming over me. It seemed to flow through my veins and into my brain. I felt it trying to control me like a robot. Sharp pain penetrated through my temples as I tried to get it out. I didn’t know how, but I tried to fight it off out of my body. Then, I heard everyone screaming, probably from the movie, and that was when it attacked me. Every part of my body froze and I had no control. I stumbled to the ground and felt blood seeping through my skin. After a few seconds, it stopped and left me alone. But, something attacked me, trying to kill me! It was invisible and it was trying to kill me!”

            At that point, I heard the police chief say, “Take him to the hospital,” as I yelled. I whipped my head back towards my wife and saw a deep, sad look on her face. The three paramedics slithered past her and converged around the stretcher and proceeded to take me away.

            “Don’t take me away! I want to be with my wife!” I yelled. I took one last look at her and the police chief. Something strange happened to me that night and no one will ever know what it was.

Fractured Timeline and Change in Point of View

Many authors use the technique of a fractured timeline and changing the point of view to affect the reader's perception of the story to their desired effect. For example, Fitcher's Bird is a classic story where the antagonist (the sorcerer named Fitcher) is tagged as the bad guy from the very start of the story. In contrast, when the start of the story is changed to when Fitcher and his friends are burned alive in his house by the third daughter, it completely changes the reader's perception of Fitcher and the daughter. The daughter is perceived as an evil person as opposed to the original story. Also, the audience will feel some sort of sympathy for Fitcher as he is being burned alive. Having a fractured timeline also makes the reader wonder why the house is being burned or why the daughter is dressed as a bird. This will make the reader hooked onto the story. Another technique authors use is changing the point of view of a story. In this story, when the point of view is changed from third to first person, it allowed the story to become more alive. The character's thoughts and feelings are conveyed more adequately adding to the effect. Overall, both these techniques make any piece of writing more compelling and exciting.

Lessons From Fairy Tales

Unlike typical Disney fairy tales, Fincher's Bird has some elements that would not be seen in a children's story. This story has violence, and gore written all over it. However Fincher's Bird boasts many similar lessons that Disney fairy tales also convey. One of them is to not trust strangers. in the story, the sorcerer disguises himself as a beggar to trick the three women to come home with him. Of course, the three women's faith is understandably not positive. The fairy tale is discreetly conveying this message, but in an atypical way introduced to children. Another lesson that can be learned from this story is the importance of parenthood and life. When the sorcerer gives the women the eggs, it represents a relationship between a parent and a child, where the parent must provide for the children without getting anything in return. In the story, the egg must be protected at all costs which also applies to children, especially babies. Even with its unorthodox way of incorporating life's lessons into a story, Fincher's Bird effectively makes a good "children's" fairy tale.

The Stand Epic Poem - 10/1

A virus from a facility is released unexpectedly into the open

An infected security guard escapes: a bad omen

He drives with his family to a little town

Infected with Captain Trips, they chug along down

They crash into a gas station

Little did they know they were about to infect the nation

Five out of the six guys get infected and they spread it everywhere

They all die but the one guy named Stu didn’t even need medical care

Now the virus spreads nationwide

99.4% of the population will die

In Ogunquit, Maine a pregnant 19-yr old contemplates

Her parents need to know but she compensates

Frannie first tells her Dad

Because she knew her Mom was going to take it bad

Her mother finds out and gets sick

Frannie blames herself for it

In New York, a troubled musician comes home

With his Mom, he’s free to roam

Getting in trouble with the law and basking in his fame

All Larry could do is sit in shame

A troubled relationship with his mother

He tried to fix it so she won’t get bothered

As he does so she gets infected

Larry was unaffected

In Shoyo, Arkansas Nick, a deaf-mute wanders

Local thugs beat and rob him: call the doctor’s!

Nick meets the policeman with the cold

Soon it becomes uncontrolled

The policeman and everyone in town are dropping like flies

The doctor theorizes someone made a mistake and sighs

Nick is now all alone and in charge of the station

He has so much to worry about; he endures frustration

Back in the facility Starkey tries to cover up

But he feels guilty of the dead man’s head in the cup

Nonetheless, he executes whoever threatens of telling

The poor journalists are trembling

Starkey thinks plan of spreading the virus worldwide will do the trick

It will protect the U.S. from taking all the heat

The president disagrees and dismisses him

He kills himself and goes out on a limb

Dark Fantasy Essay

The short stories, The Raft, Nightcrawlers, and Duel are all considered dark fantasy stories. But, what exactly makes up a dark fantasy story? The three major elements of a dark fantasy story are horror, fear, and a supernatural element that takes place in the story. These three short stories have varying effectiveness and based on these three elements Duel, the most “realistic” story of the three, is the least effective, while Nightcrawlers is the second most effective, and The Raft being the most effective.

                Duel, written by Richard Matheson, is a story about a guy named Mann, who was living in a typical driver’s nightmare. In terms of being a dark fantasy story, Duel only does a good job with the fear element. Throughout the story, Mann is faced with an unknown truck driver who seems set out to kill him. Matheson makes it a point to not reveal the truck driver’s physical appearance or any motives he had for trying to kill Mann. This fear of the unknown is a common motif in a dark fantasy story. In terms of the horror or supernatural elements, this story does a poor job of incorporating these. Matheson purposely named the main character, Mann, which is almost like the word “man” to signify that this situation can happen to any “man.” It seems like the whole point of this story was for it to not be a dark fantasy story at all. Nonetheless, this story has some dark fantasy elements in it.

                On the other hand, Richard McCammon’s Nightcrawlers, accomplishes a better job of having these dark fantasy elements. This story has a supernatural element to it such as when Price, the Vietnam War veteran, can make his dreams and thoughts to come true or appear in real life for at least a few seconds. McCammon segues this into Price’s nightmare when he re-lives his past during the war where he left his fellow soldiers to survive. Price’s dream comes true and endangers everyone that is around him. This provides the horror aspect of the story. Many suspenseful scenes come out of this as Price’s dreams spiral out of control. Violence erupts and people die while Price just sleeps. Fear also plays a big part in this story. The fear of the unknown comes up again in the story as the spectators who meet or are near Price are frightened by his supernatural talent. These people do not know why all these things are happening. At the end of the story, Price is “killed” by one of his dream soldiers which gives him peace of mind about his troubled past. Overall, Nightcrawlers is a good dark fantasy story which is evident in its use of the three elements.

                The best story out of the three is clearly The Raft for providing the reader excitement, and suspense along with the three elements of dark fantasy. Written by Stephen King, he opts to use the fear of the unknown, once again, when four teenagers go to a lake and find a black patch on the water that devours humans.  All the four kids could do was take a guess on what it was, but they were stuck in a raft in the middle of a lake. Stricken with horror, the four get “eaten” by the monster one by one. The black monster on the water resembles a supernatural aspect of the story. What sets this story apart from the other two is the suspense that it provides all the way through the ending. The readers, specifically teenagers, can relate to this story by the content that King writes about in this story. King utilizes violence, sex, and terror to grab the readers’ attention. He uses other aspects of literature to bring his story to life while still falling under the category of dark fantasy.

                All three short stories are all considered dark fantasy stories. Picking a story to best represent the genre can be determined by how effectively these short stories presented the genre through the three elements of dark fantasy. The Raft provides this efficiently and it is clear that it is a dark fantasy story. Also, the excitement that it provides compared to the other two short stories makes this the best exemplar of the genre.

Dialogue and Characterization

Serena and her shopping cart screeched to a stop in front of aisle 15. The sign read Canned Foods. She scanned the shelves, frantically, looking for the familiar box that smells of cheesy delight. It’s the day of Thanksgiving and trying to find mashed potatoes at the time was like trying to find the leprechaun at the end of the rainbow. She saw it, mid way through the aisle, hiding behind the peas and carrots, there was only one box left. At the other end of the aisle Serena spotted another woman, whose face looked vaguely similar to a friend of the past, who too, seemed to have her eyes on the box of Hungry Jack Easy Mashed Potatoes, which she desperately needed. Serena, still in her jogging suit from her earlier run, made a dash for the potatoes. What both ladies didn’t notice was another woman had entered the aisle, and was casually strolling toward the last box of potatoes. Just as Serena was about grab the box this other lady snagged them, and ran off to the next aisle. Both ladies stopped and stared in disbelief, their Thanksgiving feast was now ruined. They made eye contact.

“Cree? Cree, is that you?” Serena asked curiously.

“Oh, hey Serena. It’s been a while.” Cree said with a smile as she forgot about having another mashed potato-less Thanksgiving.

“It’s been two or three years at least. I think the last time we talked was The Washburns’ Christmas party, and they’ve been divorced for two years by now.” Serena replied, trying to forget that horrible memory from that party oh, so long ago, where she had gotten so drunk that she ran right into the Christmas tree and burned all of the Washburn children’s gifts.  

“You’re probably right, but I doubt it was a few years ago. You look like you haven’t aged a day.” Cree stated sullenly, as she knew that her own looks have been receding ever so slowly. 

“Stop it. You don’t look too bad yourself.” Serena said. She could tell by Cree’s facial expression that the subject needed to be changed, so Serena quickly asked, “How are the kids?”

Relieved that the subject was changed, she replied “They’re doing very well. Sonny is playing soccer, and Faith is in high school now.”

As the two ladies talked, Meredith (one of Serena’s daughters) approached them and complained how she wanted her mother to hurry up, so they could hit up Macy’s before the Thanksgiving Morning Sale ended at 11:00. Serena scolded her and told her that Thanksgiving dinner is more important than some clothes. She then gave her a twenty dollar bill and shooed her off to the candy aisle.

Serena sighed and looked back to Cree, and said “Adolescence is so difficult when it comes to raising girls. Did you have any trouble when it came to raising Faith?  Our little girls are growing up so fast, it seemed just yesterday that they were only babies.”

A look of relief flashed across Cree’s face, she thought maybe she wasn’t the only one with that problem. “I agree. I know what you mean. Even though Faith didn’t cause trouble growing up, she doesn’t seem to be getting along with any of her old friends.”

Serena with a concerned look on her face said, “Both of us know high school is a tough place, with all the problems students go through, especially for young girls. Just think back to our old high school days and all the problems we faced. But she’ll come around. She has your confidence.

Things are different now Cree thought to herself. The bad memories of high school are all behind her now. She never liked to think of those days when she would come home from school high, and getting scolded by her parents for making wrong choices and hanging out with the wrong crowd. Cree tried to force a smile as she replied, “You’re too kind. Thank you. How are William and the kids?”

Serena, who had been dreading the time that the question would come up, calmly answered “William has been busy, you know, being a doctor and all. The kids are doing fine. We just returned home from our trip from France.”

Cree, though very jealous at the time, did not show it. She had always wanted to go to Paris, but could never afford it. So she tried to sound happy, and started to pry as much information out of Serena as she could. “No way! Ted and I have always wanted to go there, but we’ve never had the money.”

Reluctant that her family matters weren’t brought up any further, Serena indulged on her trip. “You two should totally go, Meredith and Kristin had a blast and made a bunch of new friends. If you ever wanted to get away, maybe for a long vacation, I’d be happy to look after the kids.

Cree, taken back by what Serena had just offered, thought back to Sonny and Faith. “I don’t know, I think the kids, especially Faith, would like France. They don’t really like long tips though. Faith went to a camp in Vermont last summer, and really enjoyed it and made lots of friends.”

            Serena, who was still ranting on about everything great about Paris stated, “I’m sure they would. France is the city of love and all.

            With a curious look Cree asked, “What places did you guys visit?”

            “Well obviously the Eiffel Tower, The Catacombs, and the Louvre. But we also visited little shops and….”

             “Mom I think we should really go, it’s 9:30.” Meredith had suddenly appeared and interrupted Serena.

Serena saw that Meredith was holding a boatload of candy in her hands. She must’ve spent the whole twenty dollars. Not wanting to cause a ruckus in the store, the girls quickly made their goodbyes and exchanged numbers, and left the store.