Short Dramas and Plays
THE CREAKING DOOR: Tales of Terror IRON FIST MCCORMICK Part 2
(Continued)
NARRATOR:
All stopped at once as the slamming of a heavy iron door echoed in his ears. It was dark. Very dark. As McCormick lay on the floor, he raised his hand up before him, and waved it before his eyes -- he couldn’t see it. He blinked several times, and brought his hand closer until his chilled spread fingers touched his face like an ice-covered spider. He shuddered at the sudden chill, and could hear his voice echo off the close tight walls. The floor was cold, very cold, and his legs were already chilled from their touch. Besides his breathing, he could hear nothing. He reached out in front of him, but felt nothing. He ventured to his left, but again flailed in the pitch-blackness. He struck his hand out towards the right and found a metal wall, rough from, rust? Peeled paint? He couldn’t tell, but it was as cold as the floor.
(SFX: Hand moving over rough metal)
Is this still a dream? He put his mind toward waking up, coming to in his luxurious room, with soft mattress and pillows and creature comforts surrounding him
MCCORMICK (slight reverb)
Karl?
NARRATOR
The darkness answered back in silence.
MCCORMICK: (slight reverb)
Karl, are you there?
NARRATOR
His eyes darted this way and that, searching for anything. His ears strained into the silence, but could only hear his own short breaths. Then came a whisper. Soft and low and… unearthly.
KOVANSKI: (muffled)
No one can hear you scream… When you’re in solitary…
ANNOUNCER:
Top dog instincts came back to Iron Fist McCormick. He rose to his feet and defied the darkness.
MCCORMICK: (slight reverb)
Now you listen here. I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but your life will be a living hell if you mess with me! My associates…”
KOVANSKI (muffled)
Shut up, simpleton!
(pause)
What do you know of a ‘living hell’, mortal?”
NARRATOR
This last statement stopped McCormick cold. As he stood there in confusion, it was if a dim veil had been lifted from his eyes, and he could finally make out the heavy metal door that stood before him. It had a small, perforated window at eye level, which was shut, and a thin food panel at the bottom. Surprisingly, it slid open with a snick.
(SFX: Metal panel sliding open)
McCormick stood with wide eyes and dropping jaw as he could barely make out a vaporous cloud issue into his small cell, and, inexplicably, start to billow up to his height, and swirl before him.
(SFX: Soft sound of billowing air)
The chill in the room grew noticeably colder and the air reeked of earth and decay. Iron Fist McCormick shook in the cold and the dark as the cloud coalesced into a man-shaped form with pale white skin, and wolf-like eyes.
KOVANSKI (voice normal, reverb)
You really didn’t think you intimidated me with our little meeting today, did you?”
NARRATOR
It was the unmistakable voice of the Newbie guard, Kovanski. It had a contempt that McCormick recognized as having no regard for whom it was addressing. No regard whatsoever.
KOVANSKI: (slight reverb)
I can see you’re going to need a good dose of reality, Newbie.
NARRATOR
Kovanski’s voice mocked his victim as he seized McCormick by the throat.
(SFX: MCCORMICK Chocking sounds)
KOVANSKI (slight reverb)
As you so eloquently put it, these walls and bars are a mere illusion. I can snuff you out whenever I want.
MCCORMICK (strangled)
Let…go…of…me….
NARRATOR
McCormick struggled and flailed uselessly against the vice-like grip of his assailant. The pale skinned thing holding him immobile continued on, whispering into his ear.
KOVANSKI (slight reverb)
However, it’s been my experience that one such as you is not easily swayed by words.
NARRATOR
It licked its lips hungrily…..
KOVANSKI: (slight reverb)
You need a Display of Power.
(SFX: Shriek of pain and terror from MCCORMICK, full reverb, established, then under and throughout from MCCORMICK)
NARRATOR
And the night continued on, Iron Fist McCormick savaged by a predator he could not begin to conceive or imagine -- enduring endless hours of terror and horror that could shatter a man’s soul, and hurl his mind into a surreal oblivion of insanity.
(SFX: Shriek of pain and terror from MCCORMICK ends)
(MUSIC: Light organ chords)
The prison syndicate eventually broke up. McCormick became a shell of the man he used to be, no longer Top Dog, afraid of his own shadow, and whose sleep was filled with fitful nightmares.
(MUSIC: Stop music)
(SFX: Single drawn out shriek from MCCORMICK)
(MUSIC: Light organ chords)
And the Newbie guard moved on to another prison, where, it is said--
(MUSIC: Stops)
NARRATOR:
--He comes highly recommended.
(MUSIC: Organ sting and out)
(SFX: Creaking door closing.)
DOORKEEPER:
There’s only one solution when your neighbor’s got a big, mean dog. Get a bigger, meaner dog. I think that’s a lesson all of us can take to heart.
(SFX: Door bolt closed, key turning many times in large padlock)
Well, it’s time to bolt and lock The Creaking Door, so nothing gets out -- until next time, that is, when we bring you two more tales of terror.
Now it’s time to turn the lights back on, blink your eyes and behold your mundane familiar world, and rest easy that the sound you hear in the dark hallway at night truly is the cat, and not Mr. Giggles; and the soft billowing sounds in your black bedroom is just the wind, and not some unhuman presence taking form while you’re in solitary. Those horrors are safely locked away behind – The Creaking Door.
(SFX: Creaking door closing.)
(MUSIC: Organ theme music. Final chord held and out)
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