The Caverns of Carnage

Lorraine Henderson gasped suddenly. “Did you hear that?” she asked.

“What?” asked Pietro Hernandez.

“There!” she cried. “Can’t you hear it?”

Pietro frowned. “All I hear is some growling. Probably the black bears.”

“I know. But they sound strange,” Lorraine replied. She listened again. “They sound as if they’ve gone crazy or something.”

Another growl broke through the serenity of the park. Lorraine shook her head. “It just doesn’t sound right,” she declared. “Let’s go see.”

As they sauntered toward the cliff overlooking the bear enclosure, Lorraine saw her father, Jason Henderson staring over the edge of the cliff. When he heard Lorraine’s footsteps, he turned abruptly.

Something’s wrong! Lorraine thought. Something’s extremely wrong!

Her father held up his hand. “Stop Lorraine!” he bellowed. “Don’t come any closer!”

Lorraine kept running. “What’s wrong, Dad? What’s the matter with the bears?”

“Just stop, honey!” he yelled, “You don’t want to see it, believe me!”

“See what? Dad, what is it?”

Dodging her father’s outstretched arm, Lorraine raced past him and peered over the edge of the cliff.

At first, all she saw were some uniformed park workers, standing in a cluster at the bottom of the cliffs. They shifted their weight from foot to foot and glanced around tensely.

Nearby, she saw a huge lump of meat.

“You’re right, Dad,” she murmured. “I wish I hadn’t seen that meat– it’s pretty gross. But how come the workers are down there? And why are you so upset?”

“Because that isn’t meat, Lorraine. It’s . . . “ Henderson swallowed hard. “It’s what’s left of Oliver.”

“Oliver? But…” she stopped as her father’s words sank in. “No!” she whispered. “Oh, no!”

As she stepped away from the cliff edge, she felt the blood drain from her face. A sharp crack ricocheted through the night.

Lorraine screamed. She recognized that sound.

A gunshot.

Another shot rang out.

“What’s going on?” Lorraine shrieked. “Dad! What’s happening? Why is somebody shooting?”

“I called the wildlife officials,” Henderson called back. “The bears are in a frenzy. So they’re shooting them with tranquilizer darts to calm them down!”

Pietro nudged her shoulder. “It’s the meat,” he told her. “The human meat. Now that they’ve had a taste of it, they want more.”

The park would be open tomorrow, Pietro thought. The place would be packed with people.

He grinned.

He could have a lot of ‘fun’ in a crowded amusement park.

* * *

The night of the opening of Scream Park arrived.

The line at the admissions booth seemed to stretch for miles. Clowns roamed the walkways, handing out free balloons. The scent of hot dogs and hamburgers and cotton candy filled the air.

A carousel with the most charming wooden horses spun around and around. A long line of people stood next to the giant Ferris wheel. Among them stood Lorraine and Pietro.

A deafening explosion shook the air.

Lorraine jumped away from Pietro, terror in her eyes. “What’s that?” she gasped.

Another explosion erupted, followed by voices shouting and screaming with panic.

“It’s just the Inferno. Look.” pointed across the midway.

The Inferno was Scream Park’s most exhilarating roller coaster. It looped at top speed, sending its riders upside-down six times. And it’s terrifying fun ended in an explosion of shattered tracks and cars consumed by flames.

The flames and broken tracks were all an illusion. A special effect. But a very real-looking illusion.

The artificial flames still roared as the line of roller coaster cars glided to a stop. But the riders had stopped screaming, and they laughed and chattered in wonder as they climbed off.

“Oh.” Lorraine said, relieved. “After what happened to Bruno… I…”

“It’s fine, I understand,” Pietro assured her. “Look, why don’t you go on the Ferris Wheel, it’ll take your mind off things.”

Lorraine nodded. As she strolled towards the Ferris wheel, Pietro shoved his way through the crowded park. But he halted when he saw Jared Warren creeping by the Mirror Mansion. He was sneaking through an emergency exit doorway.

Laughter and shouting echoed through the maze of mirror-lined hallways. Pietro awaited until Jared turned a corner. Then he hurried to catch up. Rounding the corner, he saw Jared reach into his pocket and take something out. Then he stooped down and set it at the base of the mirror.

Pietro smiled.

A firecracker. Jared had just planted a firecracker.

Hidden, he watched as Jared planted a dozen more firecrackers. By then, Pietro had witnessed enough. Making his way through the line of people gaping at the mirrors, Pietro dipped out of the building and glanced around.

Watching Jared plant those firecrackers had given him an idea.

An excellent idea.

A perfect way to turn Jared’s juvenile little prank into something more interesting.

A major tragedy.

Pietro turned back to the Mirror Mansion. He could hear the people inside, squealing with glee.

He drew out the Blood Orb and closed his eyes. He shut his ears to the sounds of the park. The crowd whirling around him. The carousel’s organ music. The screams from the roller coaster.

Pietro held the Blood Orb and envisioned the scene in his head.

He hurried out of the maze just in time. For a split second, everything remained the same as it had been.

He waited apprehensively.

The air vibrated.

The ground quivered.

The whole world seemed to tilt.

And then an earsplitting explosion shook the ground, as the Mirror Mansion blew.

Pietro gazed at it in admiration. At his beautiful handiwork.

Sharp, deadly shards of glass shot through the air, slicing into the screaming, terrified crowd trying to flee.

You can’t escape, Pietro thought silently.

Shrieks of horror and screams of pain echoed through the park.

Music to my ears, he thought.

A baby’s body with no head landed with a thump at Pietro’s feet. Blood poured from the jagged open neck, darkening the ground. Pietro stepped aside so he could keep watching the deliciously gruesome spectacle.

An arm. A leg. A finger. Several bleeding eyeballs. Ragged pieces of flesh.

Legs chopped off at the knee. People stabbed and bleeding. Children crying and wailing. Screaming for help. People darted around in a panic, screaming for ambulances. For doctors. For aid of any kind.

Pietro knew that some would survive. But more were killed.

Or would be killed soon.

Lorraine darted a few feet behind him, her face twisted in terror.

As Jared Warren stared at the shredded and bloodied bodies, his eyes widened in shock. His face turned pale. He staggered as if someone had punched him in the stomach.

Pietro glanced at Jared. He appeared so confused, he thought happily. He knows his puny little firecrackers could never have caused such a disaster. But he can’t figure out what did.

Tears clouded her vision as Lorraine gazed on at the scene. Red and blue lights on police cars and ambulances flashed across slashed and bleeding bodies. A severed leg. Ragged pieces of flesh. Dead eyes staring sightlessly at the sky.

Glass crunched loudly as medics rushed by with stretchers. Doctors and nurses shouted orders in hoarse, disturbed voices. Groans and sobs still filled the air.

Lorraine trembled.

Her father put his arm around her shoulder. “Go home, honey,” he told her. “There’s nothing you can do here.”

“Are you sure?” she asked.

He nodded. “The entire city has turned out to help. You go home,” he insisted. “Try to get some sleep.”

Sleep would be impossible, Lorraine thought as she trudged away from the park. How could anyone sleep after witnessing hundreds of people perish before their eyes?

Images from the melancholy scene kept spinning through her mind. She couldn’t shut them out. She’d never forget them. As she lay in bed, something kept crossing her mind. Every time something horrible had happened, Pietro had been nearby.

She walked to the kitchen, and took out a box of cocoa powder. She’d have some hot chocolate first, and then go to bed.

A couple minutes later, Lorraine sat down at the lamp-lit table with a steaming mug of microwaved cocoa. She took a sip and immediately burned her tongue.

Tears welled up in her eyes. She pushed the mug away and buried her face in her hands. But as soon as she shut her eyes, she saw the screaming, wounded people again. And Pietro’s face…

Pietro’s face.

At that moment, she recalled the look on his face. He had been smiling. Smiling as he observed people die right in front of him.

Lorraine rushed upstairs to her father’s room and rummaged through the drawers. She found it. She held up an old newspaper clipping. The paper had yellowed, the black print had faded to pale gray.

BLOODBATH! The headline screamed at her. LOS ANGELES YOUTH BOMBARD EACH OTHER TO DEATH!

The date on the article was 1973.

She knew what happened back then. The kids were supposed to place bricks lining the walls of Scream Park. But they went wild for some unclear reason and started bombarding bricks at each other.

The photo caught Lorraine’s eye.

The caption beneath it read, SECONDS BEFORE THE TRAGEDY, DOOMED TEENS SMILE FOR THE CAMERA.

A group of about twenty cheerful kids stared out at Lorraine. One held up a brick, a grin frozen on his face. A girl held a shovel in her hand. Several waved at the camera.

Most of them blurred into the background scenery of unfinished walls and bushes.

But the boy in the foreground stood out clearly.

Lorraine shuddered as she glared at his face, frozen in time more than twenty years ago. At the wavy brown hair. At the dark eyes.

The dark, serious eyes of Pietro Hernandez.