The Beast Within

The Beast Within

Prologue

It all began as innocent fun; an experiment I never imagined could actually work.  Once realizing it could be done, though, it evolved from a wild, entertaining ride, to some basically harmless pranks, to a dark, evil nightmare.

I pray I'm the only one who must live that dream.

If only the clock could be turned back and actions changed... but altering time and history is not possible.  I don't think it is, anyway.  Perhaps that's another experiment, for another time.

It was never my intention or desire that anyone would get hurt, or suffer... at least not to the extent and degree it ended up.

People say, "I should have; I could have; I would have." Those are useless words; pathetic, empty hopes for a different reality.

I should have thought things out in a deeper, smarter way...

I should have taken into account the depths to which the human heart can go when driven by experiences, thoughts and emotions like hurt, jealousy, humiliation, anger and the desire to pay back...

I could have taken another path; made better decisions...

And I would have taken that better path if I had not allowed sinister inward emotions and ideas to take hold, or allowed drugs to intensify my imagination and lower my natural resistance.

But I did allow those things.







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April 11:

It's a warm, cloudless day in early spring.  Playful breezes ruffle the hair of Ryan Harris and Nikki Bell.  They have been a couple, a pair... a Bogey and Bacall... or Brad and Angelina for as long as anyone could remember.

Or perhaps, Lucy and Ricky Ricardo, from the "I Love Lucy" TV show from way back, might be a better image.

Ryan and Nikki are both high-school seniors at Jefferson High in Waterford, and they love taking leisurely walks in City Park, located in the heart of town. They especially enjoy walking around the big lake that dominates the center of the grassy, twenty-acre park.

They're chatting, walking along the edge of the lake, in their own private reality, when Ryan suddenly lunges, without warning, at Nikki, grabbing her by the waist as if to throw her violently into the water.  Nikki lets out a terrified shriek, believing in that crazy, adrenaline-pumping moment that she is going into the water... but Ryan wraps his arms around her and keeps her from suffering that fate.

"You crazy bastard," Nikki screams, pretending intense anger, as Ryan pulls her close, planting a wet, noisy kiss on her nose.  "I should kill you right now, you jackass!"

Ryan shouts in response, "But I love you, Nicole.  Please don't kill me!"  He's acting fearful and repentant.  "I'll try and do better!"  His acting is quite good.

The pair collapses on the ground, laughing like hyenas, as an old couple walks by on the concrete lake path about fifteen feet away.  The man asks the woman quietly, "Did you ever imagine how loud and obnoxious kids would be in the twenty-first century?"

As they catch their breath and settle down, Nikki spots a flock of geese approaching the park from the north.

"Look, Ry!  Here comes a flock of geese," Nikki squeals, pointing up at the sky, as they hear the first sounds of honking from the big birds, a sound they truly enjoy.

Watching geese come in for a landing on the lake is one of the couple's favorite things.  For them, it's simply one of those wonders of nature they never get tired of.  They also love that the geese are loud and boisterous.  It's a kindred spirit kind of thing.

As they watch, Ryan notices something strange.  One of the geese is flying erratically, drifting up and down; side to side.  It even bumps into another goose, as if to communicate, "Get outta my way, pal!  I'm tryin' to fly here!"

"Do you see that one... there?" Ryan questions, pointing as best he can to the offending bird.  "He must be hurt, or maybe drunk... or stoned!"

Nikki nods.  "Yeah; wonder what's up with that dude."

They continue watching, transfixed, as the flock continues its approach to the lake.  There is no doubt that the one they're paying special attention to is, indeed, discombobulated, flying erratically, as the flock draws closer.

Nikki and Ryan look at each other, briefly, Nikki adding, "What a nut job, Ryan.  Hope he isn't injured."

The big geese come in for their landing, splashing and gliding down gracefully, one here, another there... but as the strange, erratic goose comes in, Nikki and Ryan see it land in a comical, belly-flop sort of entry, pitching forward onto its face as well.

"He must be hurt," Nikki groans, and they both appear worried.

After its entry into the water, the goose begins honking madly, pumping one wing into the air like an athlete or fighter who had just experienced some exhilarating triumph.  Then, it beats on the surface of the lake with its wings, making loud, slapping sounds as it continues honking, apparently trying to tell the world, "Hey, check me out!  I'm a big, bad, feathery hunka burnin' goose!"

Finally, the goose settles down, along with the others.  It is simply swimming in circles, making different noises now that sound strangely like laughter.

Ryan and Nikki stare at each other, dumbfounded, silent for a few moments.

"That was weird," they say in unison, breaking into laughter once again.  Ryan adds, "He's gotta be a stoner."

As they leave the lakeside, walking along the concrete path, Nikki and Ryan notice a small crowd of people huddled around something lying on the ground.  There's a buzz of excitement and anxiety among the group, like electricity, as someone shouts, "Somebody call 911.  This kid is out cold."

Ryan and Nikki rush up to the crowd, and spot a teenaged boy lying on the concrete directly in front of a bench.  He seems to be unconscious, with a purple bruise on his forehead along with some minor cuts on the side of his face.  His eyes begin fluttering; he's about to wake up.

"Isn't that Danny Adkins?" Ryan probes, glancing over at Nikki.

"It sure is," she responds.  "Wonder what happened to him.  Look at his head!"

Danny Adkins is also a senior at Jefferson High.  He's kind of a loner, with a small circle of friends.  Ryan and Nikki know him from school, but not very well.  Danny runs with the stoners... the potheads.

Danny also has a girlfriend, Lynne Anthony, who Nikki knows a bit better, and likes.

As Danny regains consciousness and begins to raise himself up, people tell him to stay down, that someone is contacting 911 to get emergency medical help on the way.

Danny responds, in a bit of a fog, "No, don't bother doing that.  I'm fine.  Musta just dozed off on the bench and fell off.  I'll be okay."  He's lightly probing at the bruise on his head.

After a bit of debate and arguing, the concerned bystanders back off, seeing that the kid is okay, and will only have to deal with the bruise and minor cuts.

As the bystanders begin scattering, Nikki and Ryan hear a few under-the-breath remarks about drugs possibly playing a part in the mishap, but nobody appears overly concerned.

Ryan helps Danny to his feet and he, Nikki and Danny sit on the bench.

"What the heck happened to you, man?" Ryan asks.  "You all right?  Looks like you're gonna have a nasty bruise on your head.  I can feel your pain"

Ryan offers this last line, about feeling Danny's pain, in his best Bill Clinton imitation, and the three crack up, with Danny grimacing in pain a bit, as well.

"Here, take a look," Nikki chimes in, holding out her makeup mirror.

"Hey guys... don't sweat it.  I'll be fine," Danny answers, ignoring the mirror.

At this point, Danny is thinking, "Should I tell them?  This is so wild, I gotta tell someone!  Nah, they'll think I'm a whacko.  Don't do it, man!"

But, he proceeds, anyway.

"What would you think if I told you guys that I, Danny Adkins, was flying that goose?  You know, the one that was flying all crazy, honking like a maniac and acting out after it hit the water?"

Nikki and Ryan sit silently with blank expressions, staring dumbly at Danny for a few moments, before Nikki asks, "Flying the goose?  Whaddaya mean, Danny?  You okay?"  She looks concerned, as if she's just learned that both her parents have Alzheimer's.

Ryan is thinking, "Must be some potent pot the dude's smokin'."

"Hey... forget it; I was just kiddin'.  Stay cool guys; gotta head outta here."

Danny gets up, a bit shaky, and heads down the path to the park exit.







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It was freaking crazy, man.  I actually, really, truly, unbelievably, without a doubt flew that crazy goose!  I flew him!

I had been reading a book about near-death experiences, and OBEs... you know... out-of-body experiences, and that kind of crap.  How people travel, out of their bodies, all over the freaking universe, or float up to the ceiling and look down on their dead body, as people try to revive them.  You've probably heard or read stuff like this too.

I was also reading another book at the same time about limitless human potential and how we don't even use most of our brain power.

These books were kind of interesting junk, but I wasn't thinking about it a real lot.

So, I was sitting on that park bench.  I had brought a joint with me and had a little buzz on.  You know what I mean?  Just enjoying the breeze, the weather, watching the people.

Well, I was chillin' when I heard some geese honking off in the distance.  Looked up and saw this flock crusin' in toward the lake.

I thought, "Wouldn't it be something if you, Danny Adkins could fly like one of them crazy geese?  And come in for a splash landing on the lake?  How cool would that be?"

Then it clicked in my brain, which was soaking in some THC from the joint I had brought.

BINGO...  I made the connection with all the stuff I'd been reading about out-of-body experiences, and human potential, and thought, "Why not, dude?  Why dontcha give it a shot?  Whaddaya got to lose?"  I'm an adventurous kind of guy, you know?

So, I sat there, closed my eyes, and said to myself, "Danny boy, you are gonna leave your body now and float up to that loony flock of geese, and enter in and take over the controls of one of them suckers!"

You probably won't believe this, but next thing I knew I was looking outta the eyes of one of them geese, like looking outta the windshield of my car.

I was in, man, flapping and honking away like a certified nut case!  It was way beyond unreal.

Now, I didn't fly too good, and sure didn't land too hot either, for two main reasons, I believe.

First, the crazy goose himself was fighting me over the controls.  We were wrestling over control, but I, the big, bad human, won out, if you know what I mean.  No goofy goose was gonna get the best of Danny Adkins!

Second, prior to that moment, I simply had no experience flying a goose, much less landing one.  So, I was pretty darn sloppy and erratic, but it sure as heck was fun.  Know what I mean?

So, that's how it all started... flying the goose; landing like a cannonball in the lake; honking and slapping the water with my wings, or should I say his wings; braggin' and spoutin' off like Muhammad Ali.  It utterly blew my mind.

The only problem was I didn't get myself positioned and real comfortable when I was sitting on that bench, and I guess I tumbled off while I was flying or landing the goose.

Had a headache for two whole days!





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April 14:





Danny Adkins is setting up a lawn chair in the back yard at his family's home.  The yard is well kept with neat, closely mowed grass.

The house is a modern split-level, with a white picket fence around the yard.  Nice, cozy suburban living at its best.

Nobody else is at home.

Danny says to himself, in a scolding tone of voice, "You're not gonna fall and smack your head on the ground again, dude.  Gonna get nice and comfy; understand?"

After setting up the lounge chair, he goes back in the house and returns with two older kittens, one in each arm.  These are his six-month-old kitties, Turbo Cat, also known as TC, and Squeegee, who are very active and love to chase each other around, fight and act like lunatics.  Danny says it's their job.

Danny sets the cats down on the grass, settles into the lounge chair, takes a couple hits on a doobie of weed, and waits, patiently smiling.  He knows it's only a matter of time before Turbo Cat and Squeegee start to go at it, and Danny plans on getting in on the action.

The cats pad around gingerly in the yard for a while, cautiously sniffing flowers and other such activities.  After snorfling around, Turbo Cat begins the intense process of sneaking up on a bird.  He's very serious about this, revving his hind legs like a race car about to explode down a track.

As TC gets set to pounce on the bird, Squeegee sneaks up behind him and leaps onto Turbo Cat's back, chomping onto his neck with his teeth.  So, with intense yowling and hissing, the action has begun.

Closing his eyes, Danny decides he's going to enter into Turbo Cat, since he's a slightly better fighter and a bit faster too.  A moment later, Danny finds himself looking up into the maniacal face of Squeegee, his fangs bared as he attempts to latch on to TC's throat.  Being this up close and personal, Danny finds the sight of the deranged Squeegee quite frightening.  He looks like a feline psychopath.

"Shit!  What did I get myself into?"

The two cats engage in a vicious, balls-out fight... running, leaping, spitting, smacking and hissing... not to mention biting and scratching.  They're even bouncing off the fence and back of the house.

Danny would normally enjoy this show immensely, but now is shocked and alarmed to discover that there is real, actual pain involved in this violent "playtime".  He's also distressed when he realizes that Squeegee is, quite frankly, kicking his ass.  Danny... in the body of TC... has become Squeegee's chew-toy, punching bag and scratching post, all rolled up into one.

"I'm outta here," Danny thinks in a panic, and opens his eyes on the lounge chair, expecting to find scratches and bite marks on his arms, neck and legs.  He's relieved when he finds none, but feels sorry for Turbo Cat, who's now hiding behind a bush licking his wounds.  Squeegee had never given him a good ole' butt-whipping before.

Squeegee is also hanging around the bush, feeling big and bad, wanting more action, but TC is giving that low, rumbling growl cats give... like a pregnant woman about to puke... basically communicating, "Stay the f**k away from me, dude, or else!  I ain't messin' with ya."

Danny laughs and says, "I guess I need more experience in cat fighting, same as I do with flying and landing a goose!  So much to learn; so little time."







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So, you can see how this all started; a very weird, mostly fun adventure.

I say mostly fun because I can't say I enjoyed getting the snot kicked outta me by a lunatic kitten, and feeling the pain of Squeegee's wrath.  Try it sometime and see for yourself, if you've never looked up, from two inches away, into the very face of pure evil and malevolence.

I still have bad dreams at times.

Now, who would have imagined that, by reading some books about out-of-body experiences and the vast potential of the human brain, someone would discover how to invade the bodies of animals and take over the controls?  I, for one would never have taken such an idea seriously.

But, this is exactly what I had learned and discovered, with the help of a little pot!

The evolution from fun adventure to basically harmless pranks began a few days later in the cafeteria at school.  I call them basically harmless pranks, but looking back, I wonder if there's any such thing.  You see, the seeds of something far more dark and evil were sown during those basically harmless pranks, because those pranks grew out of the desire to humiliate and pay someone back.







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April 24:







The cafeteria at Jefferson High School in Waterford teems with life, noise, clanging sounds of dishes and silverware, and smells... some pleasant and some not so pleasant.  It's just like lunchrooms in schools all over the world.

Danny Adkins is sitting with a few friends at a large table during the junior-senior lunch period.  His girlfriend, Lynne Anthony is there too.  They're eating their fish sticks with mac and cheese, talking about the typical teenage stuff: school, the cool versus uncool kids, TV shows, the latest fashion crazes, drugs, sex and other vitally important matters.  The large room is packed with kids, juniors and seniors.

A small group of boys enters the lunchroom, obviously led by one boy in particular.  His name is Scott Dorner.

Scott stands six feet three inches tall and weighs two-hundred-thirty pounds.  He plays halfback on the school football team, and most girls think he's quite good-looking.  Almost all students, male and female, as well as teachers and staff, also see Scott as a jerk, to put it politely.

He's sort of a bully and has been known to sexually harass girls too, although he typically does these things in subtle ways and manages to stay under the radar and out of any real trouble.  He's a pretty slick operator.

"Oh, look who just appeared, with his band of merry men," Lynne says sarcastically.  "It's the Scott Dorner!  Everyone rise and bow."

Lynne doesn't particularly care for Scott, who has even sexually harassed her in very subtle, deniable ways.  She has not told Danny about this either, fearing that to do so would set gears in motion that might result in Danny getting onto Scott's "I'm Gonna Give YOU a Hard Time" list.

Scott is now standing near the end of a table, close to where Sam Dinkman, a well-known school nerd, is sitting, eating his lunch.  Sam has a ratty, very uncool haircut, wears coke-bottle glasses, and is chairman of the science-fair committee.  You get the picture.

Scott rips off a loud, violent burst of flatulence, also known as a fart, approximately two feet from Sam Dinkman's face and the acoustic properties of the room give the sound a truly incredible amount of force and power.

Triggered by this earth-shaking event, many different forms of laughter begin echoing through the lunchroom.  The laughter ranges from rather tame snickers all the way up the scale to uncontrollable belly-laughs.

Scott walks up to Sam Dinkman, and loudly says, feigning sincere embarrassment and regret, "I'm so sorry, Mr. DINKman.  Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?  It's the corned-beef and cabbage I had for dinner last night, along with the two-liter bottle of diet Mountain Dew.  The beer I had this morning didn't help, either.  We still tight, bro?"

Uproarious laughter fills the room, although many students, including Danny, Lynne and their friends are disgusted by Scott's rude, attention-grabbing antics.

Sam Dinkman looks like he's been hit by a baseball bat.  He's used to being the butt of jokes and teasing, but this has taken things to new heights.

Mr. Lang, one of the teacher-monitors at junior-senior lunch period, approaches quickly and says to Scott, "All right, Dorner, you need to head to the Dean's office for that one.  Don't you ever get tired of causing grief and making people miserable?"

"But, Mr. Lang," Scott responds in shock and disbelief, "it was an accident, and I did apologize to Mr. Dinkman for the unfortunate, embarrassing mishap.  Do you think I would embarrass myself like that?  On purpose?"

Scott's acting talent is awesome.  Al Pacino himself, if he were present, would be impressed.

More laughter reverberates through the crowd, but more controlled this time.

This is how Scott operates, and how he manages to stay out of trouble.  How can anyone prove he did this maliciously and deliberately?  He would get off the hook for certain, as he almost always did.

Mr. Lang walks away, a disgusted, frustrated look on his face, as more muffled laughter follows after him.  He's shaking his head.

Scott Dorner and his friends sit down boisterously at another table, Scott "accidentally" knocking another student's lunch tray, full of food and a drink, onto the floor.  "Oh... jumpin' Jiminy Crickets, I'm sorry, man.  This is just not my day!" Scott exclaims, loud and frustrated.

More laughter... Scott is really in his element now, soaking up the sense of joy and happiness he seems to spread wherever he goes.

Mr. Lang arrives with a kitchen-cleaning staff person and advises to student victim to go get another lunch tray.  He doesn't bother trying to nail Scott for this latest offense.  Why waste the time and energy?

"What a creepy dirt-bag," Lynne Anthony mutters to Danny and their friends, barely able to control her utter contempt for Scott.  "Some day, he's gonna get his.  I just know it!"

At this point, listening to Lynne, Danny spots a large horsefly flopping along on one of the lunchroom windows.  A light bulb of inspiration flashes in his head.

Danny lays his head down on the table, saying, "I'm tired; gotta rest a bit," and closes his eyes.

A few moments later, the big horsefly is walking around on Scott Dorner's mac and cheese, and Scott is attempting to shoo the fly off with his hand, muttering, "Get the heck off my food, you big, dumb horsefly!  You've probably been walking around on some dog poop."

The fly keeps landing and walking on Scott's food, alternating between the mac and cheese and the fish sticks, occasionally venturing onto the peas and carrots.  Regardless of how many times Scott swings and shoos him off, the fly returns relentlessly, as flies are known to do.  Scott rolls his eyes and is getting very frustrated.

Now, the fly starts to land on Scott's face and head, and Scott can't, for the life of him, get rid of it.  His temperature is obviously rising; he's getting set to erupt.  Other students, seeing this strange drama, are starting to laugh.  Scott Dorner is not happy, to put it mildly.  He's used to dishing out the misery, not receiving it.

Finally, in utter frustration, as the fly lands on his face for the hundredth time, Scott slaps at it hard, hitting himself in the face, trying to murder the fly.  He fails, but, with laughter ringing all around him, and Mr. Lang standing near the lunch counter, watching and grinning, the fly departs, his mission fulfilled.

Scott is humiliated, but at least the torturous misery has come to an end, and Scott now debates in his head whether he should get up and leave the cafeteria, or remain and finish out the lunch period.  "I'd look really uncool if I get up and leave," Scott thinks, "beaten down by a stinkin' horsefly."  He stays in his seat.

Danny opens his eyes, smiling, and decides to leave his body again to check outside and see what he might find.  His eyes close once again and, a minute later a bee comes in through an open window.

Scott is sitting, joking and clowning with his friends, when the bee starts buzzing around his face.  After a few attempts to shoo the bee off, unsuccessfully, Scott gets up, swinging madly, and shouts, "I can't believe this!  Now, it's a f***ing BEE!"

Mr. Lang returns shortly after this outburst and tells Scott, "It's the Dean's office for sure now, Dorner.  Loud profanity in the lunchroom ain't gonna fly."  Mr. Lang is happy now, especially since he purposely used poor grammar to inform Scott of his defeat, and loudly said the word fly to remind Scott of the horsefly.

Scott tries defending himself, but knows Lang has him now.  He's not going to get out of this one.  As he heads off for the Dean's office, he lets out a blood-curdling scream, frightening everyone in the lunchroom.

Scott has just received a parting sting on the end of his nose, courtesy of the bee.







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Let me tell you, it felt good to be able to fix Scott Dorner's butt like that.  It was almost as good as flying and landing that goose.  I was flying high, know what I mean?  Never felt so good.

The best part was seeing Scott after his little disciplinary trip to the Dean's office.  He had this huge red bump on the end of his nose from the bee sting, and some kids were going around, singing, "Scotty, the red-nosed butt hole, had a very shiny nose," to the tune of Rudolph, the... oh, you get it.  And, you could see students snickering, pointing and whispering when Scott was nearby.  He was a royal mess.

I had never enjoyed seeing someone get a pay-back so much.  There was a problem, though.  I had no business, or right, acting as Scott Dorner's judge and jury.

Now, lots of people would say, "He was a jackass, to put it politely.  He had it coming to him," and there would be some truth to that, but, it didn't change the fact that Danny Adkins had no business, or right, acting as Scott Dorner's judge and jury.

You see... my acting as his judge and jury opened the door for me to cross lines and boundaries no one should ever cross.

Remember, I said earlier how people are always saying, "I should have... I could have... I would have?"  Well, the truth is I never should have taken on the role of judge and jury.

A couple months later, I was hanging out with my girlfriend Lynne at her place, listening to MP3s, snacking on some junk and smoking a little weed, when she started telling me stuff that would change the whole ballgame... the whole enchilada.







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July 8:







"Danny, I gotta tell you something.  Promise me you won't get mad and over react.  Okay?"

Lynne was looking at Danny with a sad expression, sort of the way people look when they have to discipline a wayward pet dog.

"Get mad and over react?  What's goin' on, Lynne?

"You gotta promise, Danny!"

"Okay, Sweet Stuff, tell me whatcha need to tell me.  You find some other guy?" Danny responded, feeling himself deflating like a punctured tire.

"No, Danny, it's nothing like that.  Just hear me out."

"I'm all ears, Sweet Stuff."

"Okay, Danny... you see, I've been havin' some problems with Scott Dorner, and..."

"Scott Dorner!" Danny practically shouted.  "What's goin' on with that low-down..."

"Danny!  Shut up!  You're over reacting already.  Listen!"

"Yes, ma'am...  I am sorry; truly sorry."

Danny Adkins was meek and properly chastised.  Danny was thinking, "When it's all said and done, women run the universe.  In our hearts, we all know that."

Lynne picks up where she left off, before being interrupted.  "Just listen till I'm done, Danny.  Don't talk; don't think; just hear what I'm saying."

"You got it," he replied, but shut up quickly when Lynne glared at him for answering.

"Scott has been harassing me sexually for a while.  Don't say anything.  It used to be very subtle, like certain kinda looks and slick little remarks; nothing too obvious.

"Since the incident with the fly and the bee in the cafeteria, though, it's gotten worse, and I decided I had to tell you."

Danny blurted, "Why didn't you..."

"I didn't say anything sooner, Danny, because his stunts were subtle.  They weren't over the top.  I was worried that if I told you, it might end up with you having big problems and issues with Scott.  You know what a dork he can be."

"Yepper."

"Now it's summer, Danny.  School's over and done, and kids are all over the place, but Scott somehow seems to show up just about anywhere I happen to be, when I'm not with you.  It's been creepy, to put it mildly.  He's even followed me in my car a few times, Danny.

"And he started, just recently, making crude remarks about how him and me should hook up; and about what am I doing with a loser like you; and how good he will make me feel when he gets me alone.

"Danny, I love you and Scott makes me sick.  I have no interest in him.  In fact, I'd rather live the rest of my life alone in a cave, growing a long beard and eating slugs, than have anything to do with Scott Dorner."

There were a couple moments of silence, Lynne and Danny looking into each other's eyes.

"What are we gonna do, Danny?  I'm getting scared.  Who knows what a slime bucket like Scott might be capable of doing?  Should we call the cops?"

Danny was thinking, hard.  He didn't respond.  Then he told Lynne, "I think I have a plan, Sweet Stuff."

He then went on to tell Lynne all about flying the goose, and the cat fight between Turbo Cat and Squeegee, and how he, Danny, had pulled off the stunt with the fly and the bee and the bee sting in the cafeteria.

Danny had not tried to tell anyone about his adventures since the day in the park, after flying the goose, when he started telling Nikki Bell and Ryan Harris.  After their reaction, he knew nobody would believe him... but now... with his new plan to fix the Scott Dorner problem, he had to let the cat out of the bag.

Lynne looked at Danny like he was a creature from outer space.  Needless to say, she too did not believe him, and actually thought he was goofing around.

"How can you joke around, Danny?  This is serious business.  I told you I'm actually scared!"

She was looking at him once again, sort of the way people look when they have to discipline a wayward pet dog.

"I'm not joking, Lynne.  You gotta believe me!"

He was about to go on trying to convince her, when he stopped in his tracks, and smiled.

"Lynne, is anyone else at home now?"

"No.  Why?"

"Let's go into the living room and visit with your mom's parrot.  Let's see if Cracker has anything to say about this."

"Danny!  Enough with the jokes.  You're making me..."

"Now it's your turn to listen.  Come with me, Lynne... Sweet Stuff... Pumpkin Pie.  Come with Danny"

Danny is speaking to Lynne in a sweet, coaxing way, like people do when trying to get a baby to take its first steps, or use the potty for the first time.

After settling down on the sofa in the living room, Danny tells Lynne to keep an open mind and observe what she sees and hears.  She's still angry, but gives in.

Danny asks, "How much talking does Cracker actually do?  I've heard him say, 'Cracker wants a cracker', but does he say much of anything else?"

"Not really.  He says 'I'm a pretty boy', and mom's trained him to say 'Who is it?' when someone comes to the door, but that's about it."

"Okay... watch him... and listen.  Watch.... and listen."

Danny closes his eyes as he gets comfortable on the sofa.  Lynne looks back and forth, from Danny to Cracker... from Cracker to Danny.  Cracker in sitting on his perch, bobbing his head, making bird noises.

In his weird bird voice, Cracker says, "Whatcha doin', Sweet Stuff?"

Lynne looks back and forth, from Cracker to Danny... from Danny to Cracker.  Cracker is standing perfectly still now, staring straight into Lynne's eyes.

Lynne swallows, hard, and looks from Cracker to Danny... from Danny to Cracker.  She whispers, "You gotta be shittin' me.  Danny?  Is that really you?"  She feels like she might pass out.

"You bet your sweet booty," Cracker replies, "the one and only."

The bird is still looking directly into Lynne's eyes, and says, "How 'bout a smooch?  You're hot!"

"Danny," Lynne croaks in awe, "What's your plan?"







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It took some doing, but Cracker and I were able to convince Lynne that what I had been telling her was the plain, simple truth.

She asked me what my plan was, and this is where my adventure in animal habitation went from basically harmless pranks to a dark, evil nightmare.  Looking back, I still find it hard to believe and accept what actually happened.

To keep it short and sweet, I told Lynne that when Scott followed her in her car again, she should call me on her cell, and start heading over to Foothills Estates.  This is a housing sub-division nestled in the foothills, where there's a hiking trail and houses scattered around, mostly pretty far from each other.

I know a guy from school, Eddie Daniels, who lives there, and he owns a Pit Bull dog named Gnasher.  He's actually a sweet, gentle dog, but his name is Gnasher.

Anyway, I told Lynne to lead Scott to Foothills Estates, get out of her car and start walking onto the hiking trail.  I would already be in the area and would lie down in my car, then go and get Gnasher.

I knew that the backyard fence at the Daniels home has some gaps at the bottom, and it would be easy for me to get into Gnasher and tunnel under the fence.

I told Lynne that when Scott Dorner approached her on the trail, wanting to make some kind of move, then Gnasher would make his entry, stage right, and he would not be too friendly, if you know what I mean.

I figured I... or should I say Gnasher would scare the living crud outta Scott.  I also figured Gnasher might take a little taste or two of Scott, just as an exclamation point.

I know... this was a really dumb plan.  I never said I was a Rhodes Scholar.  I did believe, though, that a run-in with a mean, nasty Pit Bull might scare Scott Dorner straight... you know, like the TV show "Scared Straight" where they take at-risk youth into prisons, get up in their grilles, yell at 'em and freak 'em out?

Yes, it was stupid, but I was acting on adrenaline and anger.  The pot smoking probably didn't help, either.  I had no intention of doing any real harm to Scott.  I had given him a friendly bee sting on the nose, and he survived that, with a red nose and some embarrassment.  I figured, "How bad can a dog nip on the butt be?  Scott will get through this too.  Some people have to learn the hard way."

Things did not turn out like I planned.







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July 22:





"He's following me, Danny," Lynne says into her cell phone.  "I'm heading over to Foothills Estates, and I'm scared.  Remember, you're not gonna hurt him badly... just gonna scare him... shake him up... right?"

"Right, Sweet Stuff, and maybe snack on him just a bit.  We've talked about this, baby.  Gnasher and I will meet you and Scott on the trail.  I should already be out on the trail, inside the dog, by the time you, and then Scott get out there.

"I suspect when Scott sees that his rude and crude actions keep causing him grief, he'll get the message.  The bee sting at school didn't quite get the job done, but Gnasher should be able to.  You know what I mean?"

Scott Dorner had encountered Lynne a few times, in a few places, since Danny and Lynne had discussed the plan, but today was the first time since then that he was following her again in her car.  Lynne and Danny truly hoped everything would fall into place, and that the big Pit Bull would finally put an end to Scott's harassment of Lynne, and hopefully even of others.

Lynne arrives at the parking area five minutes later, gets out of her car, and starts heading for the hiking trail.  She knows Scott's car has stayed with her the whole way.  As she reaches the trail, Lynne hears Scott's car pulling into a spot in the parking area, the tires crunching on the gravel.  She takes a deep breath, very nervous, as she continues onto the trail.

A few minutes later, as she's walking along the trail, Lynne hears a voice behind her.  "Hey, good lookin'!  Interesting that we keep runnin' into each other... isn't it?  Must mean we're supposed to hook up."

Lynne, now facing Scott with hands on hips and a very annoyed expression, replies, "I've told you a dozen times already, Scott, I'm really not interested... at all!"  Please, just leave me alone!"

"You don't really know what you want, Lynne, but we can fix that situation right up," Scott purrs, in his best version of a seductive voice, taking a couple steps closer and looking downward into Lynne's face.  She is standing her ground, not wanting to show that she's intimidated or fearful.

"For the last time, Scott, back off!  You make me wanna puke."

Scott leans down and tries to plant a kiss on Lynne's neck, placing his right hand on her hip.  Lynne pushes him backward, hard, as she's thinking, "Danny, where are you?"  She's finding it difficult to breathe.

Scott growls, "So, you like things kinda rough, huh?  I kinda like that too, bitch," as he moves forward slowly toward Lynne once again.  "This will be fun, and too bad your wimp boyfriend, Danny isn't here to watch."  Scott has a menacing smile on his face.

Just as he reaches Lynne, and is about to take hold of her, they hear a loud, mean rumble of a growl behind them.  Spinning around, Lynne and Scott see a horrible vision.  Gnasher is crouching two feet behind them, growling with fiery menace, baring his big, razor-sharp teeth.

Gnasher is big beyond big, thick and stout.  His eyes are practically glowing like coals with intense hatred.  He is inching forward menacingly, eyes locked like missiles on Scott.

Scott and Lynne both know that if the dog gets his teeth... and especially his jaws on Scott, it might get extremely nasty.  They are both hyperventilating, numb with fear, even though Lynne knows the truth of what's happening.

Lynne decides to help the cause by hissing at Scott, "Well, Scott... see where your bullying and harassment have gotten us?  Now, we may both end up dead because of you, you slime bucket!  If we get out of this alive, you had better quit your BS ways."

Scott is focused on Gnasher.  He's backing up, holding out his right hand and coaxing, in the sweetest, gentlest voice he can muster, "Good dog... gooooood doggie.  You're a sweet, gentle little puppy... aren't you?  Yes you are... yes you are.  I just wanna scratch you behind your ears and rub your furry belly."

Gnasher continues to advance, now making vicious, lunging moves toward Scott.  It appears as if the big dog will soon be mounting an all-out assault.  Then he begins making serious lunges, growling intensely all through the process.

Scott feels he may lose control of his bladder or bowels... or both.  He starts calling out loudly for help, but the look on Gnasher's face, and the hideous sounds coming from his throat seem to say, "No help's gonna come, buddy!  It's just you and me."

Now, Gnasher lunges and catches Scott's left calf with his teeth.  It's a quick nip, and he doesn't get hold of the leg.  This is exactly what Danny planned on doing; a couple of tastes, a painful nip here and there, mixed with a lot of harrowing fear.

Scott cries out in pain.  He's scared, but a change is coming across his face.  Anger now appears on Scott's face, mixed with the fear.

The dog lunges again, the sounds rising from his throat terrifying beyond imagination.  These are truly sights and sounds from the pit of hell.  Gnasher gets a chomp on the back of Scott's thigh, and Scott feels the pain, crying out once again.  He shouts at Lynne, "I'll bet you're enjoying this, bitch!  When this is over, I'm really gonna fix you... and your pussy boyfriend too."

Gnasher lunges yet again, but this time, Scott is able to throw a kick, and catches the dog squarely in the snout.  The kick stuns the dog, and now it is Danny feeling the pain and seeing stars.  He's also feeling deep, dark anger such as he has never felt before.  The intense pain from the kick, along with the threat that Scott made of continuing his aggression toward Lynne, and him, has touched a dark, raw nerve in Danny's psyche.

Scott, seeing that he's hurt the dog, now seeks to press his advantage and manages to drive another kick into Gnasher's ribs.  The dog yelps in pain, and Scott is now moving forward.  He's planning on flinging himself onto the dog and beating the living daylights out of him... perhaps even killing him.

As Scott lunges forward, Gnasher manages to avoid the attack.  Scott is off balance, and the dog leaps into the air, biting Scott on the face.  Scott collapses to the ground, holding his face and crying out in fear and anger.  He shouts with all his strength, the raw sound echoing through the foothills, "You son of a bitch!  I'm gonna kill your ass now!"  He is on his knees, beginning to get up.

Lynne is crying now, and screaming, "Stop it!  Danny, this has gotta stop!"

As Lynne's last word comes forth, Gnasher is in the air again, hitting Scott full in the chest and throwing him violently to the ground again.  As he goes down, Scott's head bashes into the hard ground and he goes semi-conscious.  Gnasher doesn't hesitate.  He goes for Scott's throat and clamps down, hard.

"No, Danny, no," Lynne is screaming.  She throws herself onto the big dog's back and is pounding on him with her fists, wailing hysterically.  "You promised you weren't gonna hurt him real bad, Danny.  What the heck are you doing?"

These are the last sights and sounds Scott takes in, as the last bit of life drains from his body.







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Epilogue

A couple of joggers found Scott's body on the trail; his throat ripped out.  After some intense moments of stark terror, shaking like leaves, they called 911.  Those people will never be the same.

The cops, after showing up and starting their investigation, also found my body in my Mazda a half-block away, lying on the front seat. Not my dead body, mind you... just my comatose body... a big mystery.

Lynne was basically out of her mind; she was no help.  Please, God, let her recover.  I love that girl.

If she does recover, Lynne's never gonna forgive me, or want to stay in a relationship with me.  I know in my heart that it's all over.

I decided to hang around inside Gnasher, at least until I could figure out what to do, but when the cops came knocking around on doors, doing their investigation thing, they discovered blood on my mouth, paws and chest fur.  I knew good ole' Gnasher was gonna get put down too... yet another sad consequence of my stupid choices.

I really don't know what I'm gonna do now, but I gotta figure it out soon, before Gnasher's time is up.  This cage in the pound is sure uncomfortable, too, not to mention the miserable fleas.

Should I turn myself in to the cops?  Just return to my body in the hospital and face reality?  That's the good and right thing to do, but, who's gonna believe my story about invading the dog's body, and trying to teach the bully boy, Scott Dorner a lesson?  Who's gonna believe I didn't really mean to kill Scott?  I'll end up in a psycho ward somewhere for sure, or in prison, having to be some big, hairy dude's bitch.  Know what I mean?

Scott was a bully and sexual harasser.  He made people miserable left and right, and was getting worse, not better.  He wasn't a very nice guy, but... as I said earlier, I had no right to be his judge and jury when I did him with the fly and the bee in the lunchroom, and I sure had no right to be his judge, jury and executioner when I snuffed him out on that trail.

What would you do if you were me?

As awful as I feel, I've never been one to take responsibility for my actions and face up to consequences.  Generally, when shit hits the fan, I'll just light up a joint, turn on some music and try to forget about it.  Maybe I'll mature later on.

For now, I just might hitch a ride in a goose and head on up to Canada or Nova Scotia, or maybe Newfoundland.  Might even take up residence permanently in that goose and leave ole' Danny Adkins behind.  Heck, maybe I'll even find me a nice, plump female goose and get hitched... settle down.  I'm a monogamous kinda guy.  Know what I mean?  I'd need to be a "one goose" kinda guy.

Geese mate for life; don't they?