katzenjammer
/ˈkæt sənˌdʒæm ər/
1. the discomfort and illness experienced as the aftereffects of excessive drinking; hangover.
2. uneasiness; anguish; distress.
3. uproar; clamor:
His speech produced a public katzenjammer.
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Brad groaned as consciousness slowly crept up on him. He felt like someone had used his throat as a
distillery while another using his skull as a drum set. There was a heavy booming noise to his right,
but he dare not see what was causing the tiny explosions. He knew the moment he did, his eyes would be
hit by spears of light.
He
slowly attempted to move. That was a
mistake. Whatever surface he was on was
hard and unforgiving. He did not make
another attempt. Instead, he focused on
just his arm. He raised it to nurse his
head and shield his eyes. His arm
stopped a few inches off whatever he was laying on. Not because of his inability to raise said
arm, but because something was actively stopping its upward motion.
Against
his own better judgment, he opened his eyes.
The room he was in was dimly lit, so instead of spears, it was more like
pointy sticks. He could deal with
that. He was in a stone room with
nothing in it, save the metal slab he was both lying on and shackled to. The explosions turned out to be water
dripping down from the ceiling. The
water had spread out quite a bit, and it seemed like the entire floor was damp.
Brad
had no idea where he was, or how he had gotten there. He was so worried that he almost forgot his
hangover. Almost, but not quite. His far too sensitive ears picked up the
screeching of metal hinges and the scraping of stone and steel, all coming from
behind him. They were followed by
footsteps belonging to what had to have been a giant.
“Oh
good, you’re awake.” Came the booming, but distinctly female, voice. Brad winced in pain. “Oh, sorry.
I’ll talk softer.” She said at a
much more human volume.
She
came around to the side of the bed. She
was a pretty, young blond woman. She
looked familiar. He forced his mind to
work, and even though it protested, he remembered her. The two of them had been talking last night
at the bar. They had appeared to hit it
off, and she had invited him back to her place.
He remembered her named started with an “A”. He wanted to say either Ashley or
Amanda. Something along those lines.
“Do you
remember me?” She asked.
“I
think so.” Brad said. He thought for a
moment. “Ashley, right?”
“Wow,
I’m impressed. With how you were
drinking, I didn’t think you’d remember my name.”
“Oh I
get it, I really do. I normally don’t
remember names very well. I make an
exception for the really pretty ladies though.”
“Oh my,
and what a sweet talker. And here I
thought it was the alcohol.”
“Only
partially. So, uh, think you can maybe
let me up?”
“Oh no,
I’m sorry, but that won’t be happening.” Ashley said through a sharp intake of
breath. “That would ruin all my
carefully laid plans.”
“Which
are?”
“Brad,
let me ask you a question. Do you
remember high school? More importantly,
how well do you remember those you went to school with?”
“High
school? Can’t say I remember that very
well. I mean, it’s been, what, twelve
years now? Oh, I do remember I was a
huge jerk though.”
“Well,
I’m glad to hear you admit that. But I
was talking about people, specifically.”
“Oh. Well, sorry, but I don’t remember too many
people. Like I said, twelve years. It was a long time.”
“That’s
too bad.” She said slowly.
“Although,
since you bring it up, I can guess what’s going on. I was mean to you way back when for one
reason or another. You went through a
big change and, instead of just rubbing ‘what could have been’ in my face, you
decided for a more…painful revenge. Do I
have that right?”
“Wow. I’m impressed. You got it in one. I didn’t think you would, since you were
never particularly bright back then.”
“Oh, I’m
still not. I just watch a lot of TV and
movies.”
Brad
kept his voice light and cheery, but he was anything but. In fact, a small pit of unease was slowly
building. It had been building since he
first found the cuffs on his wrist, but the fact that she so easily admitted
her intention to torture him made it build so much faster.
“I suppose
this is similar to a bunch of slasher flicks, isn’t it?”
“Pretty
much, yeah. So, you watch those too?”
“Not
really. I read about them, but never
cared to actually watch. Why?”
“Well,
it’s just that it usually doesn’t end well for the torturer. Of course, it usually doesn’t end well for
the victim, but the torturer usually gets him at the end. Or, hers in this case.”
“I’ll
have to be careful then, won’t I?”
“Might
help if you let me go. All fun and games
right?”
“Nice
try, but no. Although, I will give you a
chance. If you remember me and why I’m
doing this, I’ll let you go.”
That
was not good. His high school had a lot
of people in it, and at least six of them were named Ashley. He did not remember being mean enough to any
of them to warrant this kind of treatment though.
“Ah,
see, that’s a bit tricky.” Brad admitted.
“Like I said, twelve years does funny things to memory.”
“That it
does.” Ashley said, nodding in agreement.
“I guess that means you don’t remember me specifically, do you?”
“Not as
such no. I mean, all I really have is
your name. That’s not a lot to go off
of, even if I did remember everyone from back then.”
“Ah. You are absolutely right. I guess I am being a bit unreasonable, aren’t
I? Okay then, I’ll just tell you my last
name and see what comes up. My full name
is Ashley Rachel Hendricks.”
Brad
thought about the name for a moment. He somehow dredged a vague memory out of
his still pounding head. The pit became
a gaping chasm.
“Oh
crap.” He said.
“Oh
good, you remember, don’t you.” She said happily.
“A
little bit, yeah. So, does that mean I
can go free?” He said. He felt a drop of
sweat run down the side of his head. “That’s
what you said you’d do right? If I
remember you, you’d let me go.”
“I did
say that, didn’t I? Although, I did have
a stipulation about my motives.”
“It’s
because I ignored you for most of the time, and when you asked me out I called
you fat?”
“I
remember the exact phrase was something closer to ‘tub of whale blubber’. I also recall a few shoves. Down some stairs.”
The
memory came rocketing back. Sweat beaded
on his head and his stomach twisted as he recalled laughing as the then portly
teenage girl fell. Back then, he had
reveled in the laughter of those around him, in particular the head cheerleader
who had been with him.
“Such a
shame, but since you did not, in fact, remember the entire story, I won’t be
letting you go.” Ashley said. “Although,
since you remembered part of it, I’ll give you a little reprieve. See, I’m going to do what you did, and ignore
you before I hurt you. But now, I won’t
ignore you for quite as long. Sounds
good, right?”
“Uh…”
Brad said. He was no longer hiding his
distress. “Not really.”
“Good. That’s the point. Oh, and, since you were so kind as to mention
it.” Ashley leaned in close and
whispered in his ear, “Look at what you missed out on.”
She
pulled away and stood tall, making sure he saw as much of her as his limited vantage
point could see. Then, without another
word, she turned and walked slowly, deliberately, out of his field of
view. He heard the door screeching
closed and he was alone.
************************************************
Remember kids, don't be a bully. It's mean, cruel and unnecessary. Plus, you never know who might grow up to be a psych killer out for revenge against all their old bullies. So play it safe, don't be a bully. Your life might depend on it.
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