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Rated: 13+ · Other · Horror/Scary · #1389136
Television & Life - which is real and which is fake - can you tell?
Square Eyes
By Stephen A Abell


Number of Words: 498



Larry could pinpoint the exact moment his world became a living nightmare, it was when the cartoons climbed out the television.

Even at forty-three, he loved nothing better than sitting down with his son, Jason, to watch the gaudy animated fun. Playing on the box was Ben 10, who was just about to kick some alien butt, when the screen blipped down to small white dot. Just as suddenly, it blipped back to full size, just in time to see Ben smack the alien, a good one.

Then the impossible happened: The alien flew from the screen, past a startled Larry, and into the wall behind them.

He screamed, and lurched to his feet. "He's not, going to…"

Forty-three years of being a couch-potato made Larry’s reactions slow. Before he could finish his sentence, before he could hit the off button, they did. Ben, his sister, and his grandpa came blazing through the flatscreen; all guns, witchcraft, and superpowers ablazing.

Without a second thought, he scooped Jason off the sofa as Sophia bounded down the stairs, “What the bloody hell is goin’ on he…” The scene stole her words away.

Running for the door, Larry grabbed her with his free hand.

Outside, reality was loosing the fight.

Most of the estate lay decimated; people were running aimlessly. Television and film heroes and villains banded together, rejoicing in their new freedom.

The Man of Steel blazed across the sky, coming to an abrupt halt. “Keep the children safe.” His voice spanned the horizons and Larry thought, yeah Supe’s, that’s more like it, until he heard “Kill all the adults, they will rebel. We need the children. We need our fans admiration.” A group of men and women burst into flame as Superman unleashed his heat vision.

“Over here, fat man,” a sickly sweet voice called, “I can save you and your family.”

As a tripod pushed its way out of some rubble and incinerated everybody in sight, Larry and his flesh and blood family ran toward the voice offering salvation.

One house stood erect in a field of rubble and ruins. A foreboding, tall grey brick and wood, building, three stories high, and from somewhere inside Alison thought she heard a man say, “Look Mother, they’re coming.”

Inside, the house was oddly quiet, what with the hell outside. To Larry’s relief, there was no television.

“Hello,” the word echoed in the stillness, “anybody here?”

The door slammed shut behind them.

“Nobody but us clowns,” the syrupy voice replied, as the shocked trio spun around.

Standing before them was a clown sporting the most shocking red afro. His white face glowed eerily, while the bright red nose throbbed and pulsated with their heartbeats. He proffered the red balloon he was holding to Jason, as he cowered behind his father.

“Come join me,” a nasty viciousness crept into his voice, “we ALL float down here.”

Nobody outside heard the screams of pain and torture as Pennywise showed them his party tricks.

© Copyright 2008 Pennywise (pennywise at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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