Home » Uncategorized » Mayhem Manifested through the Makings of a Manic Methhead

Mayhem Manifested through the Makings of a Manic Methhead

IMG_0135Robert sat in his dingy apartment on the living room floor surrounded by disassembled clock radios and various tools. He’d been awake for three days; the hallucinations and paranoia were becoming more intense. So much so that he was having a difficult time distinguishing reality from fantasy. In his mind he was beginning to believe that he was repairing his space craft so that he could get off this foreign planet and join his crew on the mother ship before returning to their galaxy.

He smoked more and his disillusions became that much more concentrated and extreme. Robert was now hull up in a cave with his craft hidden just yards away in some bushes; he could not allow himself to be discovered or for his plan to be revealed. Robert commandeered an earth weapon six days earlier in an attempt to defend himself against the inhabitants of this odd world. He hunched over his work sweating and picking at a sore he had caused on his left forearm. He dug deeper as his mind raced trying to figure out how to get the combaculator reception accumulator to work. Delusional Robert switched arms as his left began to leak blood from the fresh irritated and infected wound. He panicked seeing his bodily fluids spewing from his arm and assumed he had been hit by the enemy. Surely they were attempting to cease his life function.

Robert took cover and frantically tried to bandage his arm using plastic wrap and electric tape. He checked his earth weapon and laid in wait for his attackers. Just then his stoner friend Timmy and Rusty their dealer walked through the door. Robert stood and fired the 44caliber pistol six times at the intruders then ducked back behind the sofa he was using as cover. After brief screams there was silence. Robert reloaded then stood again to see another of the enemy, he fired three more shots.

The building superintendent, Mr. Sanchez fell to the floor without clutching or screaming. He was dead from the first shot to the head from the large caliber firearm. Robert ducked back down with the gun smoking in his hand; his position had been compromised. He needed to find an escape. Robert stepped over and through the lifeless bodies at his threshold and inched his way down the hallway. As he made his was through the woods towards his vessel he encountered more adversaries in uniforms holding weapons. He fired on sight catching one of the officers in the right arm. The other officer took aim and shot Robert in the chest ending his mission. Robert never made it out of this odd world and onto the mother ship but in his drug induced lunacy he did manage to take three lives and end the career of a decorated police officer. Meth is a hell of a drug!


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