Monday, October 18, 2010

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.

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