THE CREAKING DOOR: Tales of Terror IRON FIST MCCORMICK Part 1
Now, from the smell of cotton candy and caramel corn of the carnival, we take you to the smell of sweaty men and rusting iron of a maximum security prison located… well, closer to you than would be comfortable. It’s a perpetual dog eat dog world where only the strong survive, and the stronger rule.
Allow me to usher you through The Creaking Door to –
(SFX: Creaking door opening, voice reverb)
Iron Fist McCormick.
(This section not for performance)
IRON FIST MCCORMICK
By David Ian
CAST OF CHARACTERS
MCCORMICK: Lifetime criminal; serving a life sentence. Alpha dog predator with no scruples or morals; inhuman.
KOVANSKI: Prison Guard with a Special Talent. An Alpha dog predator with no scruples or morals, non necessarily human.
Everyone in cellblock C knew who Iron Fist McCormick was. Everyone in the whole prison, for that matter. He ran things from his prison cell. There wasn’t an exchange that was made within the prison walls that Iron Fist McCormick didn’t know about – not a pack of cigarettes, not a shiv made, nothing went on without Iron Fist McCormick authorizing it, or approving it. The guards and the warden seemed to be under his control as well. It was well known McCormick had associates outside the prison walls and he knew where everybody’s family was, and so kept them all under his thumb.
Nobody messed with Iron Fist McCormick.
When the Newbies came into the prison, they were all escorted to have an “audience” with McCormick. If the Newbie fell in line, then there was an “understanding”: you did what McCormick told you to do. If someone owed you money or a favor, they now owed McCormick the money or favor. If not, well, prison had its pitfalls, and McCormick had associates everywhere. Those that resisted Iron Fist McCormick didn’t last long, inside or outside of prison. You lose a lot of rights in prison.
The same applied for the guards and prison personnel as well. They would have their own “audience” with McCormick. They had family, they had money, they had outside contacts, and all became owned by McCormick. Newbies were all the same to him, inmates or guards.
And so it was business as usual when a Newbie guard named Kovanski was brought into McCormick’s spacious and comfortable cell.
(SFX: Clicking of shoes x3 on concrete floor)
McCormick noted he had a look of confidence about him. He was always a good character of men. He knew what it would take to convince or break a man from a first meeting. This one would need some breaking, he decided.
You’re a transfer, I see.
Highly recommended from back east. Why did you move out here, Newbie?
That’s Guard Kovanski to you, inmate.
(SFX: Quick scuffle)
A one-two punch to the guard’s kidneys by one of McCormick’s enforcers was the quick reply. The guard winced in pain and nearly fell to his knees, but remained standing by force of will.
I can see you’re going to need a good dose of reality, Newbie. These walls and bars here are a mere illusion. I have contacts and associates far beyond this institution, and wherever you go, I can snuff you out whenever I want. However, it’s been my experience that one such as you is not easily swayed by words. Karl will you do the honors?
(SFX: Scuffle as described continuing throughout)
A bag was quickly put over the guard’s head while at the same time the back of his knees were taken out by Karl with a lead pipe.
And don’t think that any of the other guards or the warden will come to your aid
Iron Fist McCormick raised his voice just enough to be heard over his four enforcers doing their well-practiced Demonstration of Power.
I’ve promised them that this and worse awaits their loved ones if they interfere at all with my little prison syndicate here.
Iron Fist McCormick let his namesake earn its reputation for longer than usual. A little disappointed; he had expected a little more spunk from this one. But then again, the Newbie was just one man against the juggernaut that he controlled. It was merely a law of nature that he became devoured by the pack of predators. And Iron Fist McCormick was Top Dog.
(SFX: Scuffle ends.)
(SFX: Voice off: “Lockdown!”)
(SFX: Clanging of many metal doors closing)
Later that night, McCormick drifted off to sleep, waxing philosophical of dog eat dog, true power, and chuckling to himself at the irony of running his little fiefdom from his prison block. He was untouchable. What could they do to him? Extend his life sentence? Add more years on? There was no death penalty in this state, and as long as he was to be confined behind bars, he could make the best of it by living the life of a prince while terrifying the lives of those who lived in “freedom”. And that’s how Iron Fist McCormick slipped away into the awaiting night.
Then came the dreams.
(MUSIC: Swirling strains, rising and falling)
The Creaking Door: Tales of Terror Pg 17
Disturbing, unsettling dreams. Strange visions and twisting colors coupled with shrieks and unearthly sounds, a cacophony of dark, eerie moans and tortured wails. He felt weightless, though he could feel movement, like walking on mist, or moving through the vacuum of space. And all the time the swirling colors and the screams.
(SFX: Slamming of thick heavy metal door. Sounds stop. Silence.)