Poor
old Mr. Dallas had quite lost his mind. His doctors had already
signed the papers for him to be picked up from his home of sixty
odd years and taken to the Carson City Sanitarium.
The
poor eighty two year old man had been abandoned by his much younger
wife and had called the local authorities and told them a wild
story of her disappearance...
He
insisted that she was taken by aliens... aliens that crawled out
of their dumbwaiter in the hall outside his bedroom door. The
dumbwaiter was inspected and yielded nothing but cobwebs... nothing
that would support his story.
All
that anyone knew was that Mrs. Lillian Dallas was definitely missing...
Gone as if she had decided to leave in a hurry. Her clothes and
other things were still there at the home. Her car was still in
the garage.
After
talking to neighbors and relatives, it was decided that she must
have had enough of the old gentleman, especially after him becoming
so ornery and apparently senile.
It
was known that she had only been there for the money anyway. Mrs.
Dallas had just moved on to greener pastures.
They
called in his doctors and they all agreed that Mr. P.S. Dallas
would be better off to be confined for his own good and protection
from himself.
The
Carson City ambulance pulled into the circular gravel driveway
and continued to the front door of the house. The two muscular
attendants got out and stared up at the face of the old stone
mansion.
Shaking
their heads in amazement, the one called Elroy was heard to say
to the other, Look at that, George. Can you believe it?
All this money and a fancy home like this, and then to lose your
mind and have to go live in the rest home?
George
silently agreed and proceeded to ring the door chimes. The door
went unanswered for an unreasonable length of time... Looking
at each other, they shrugged their shoulders and went in search
of another door.
The
walkway at the side of the house was overgrown and unkempt and
they tripped several times over the intruding ivy vines. Finally
finding a door, Elroy repeatedly knocked with the heavy old brass
knocker and finally, with his knuckles..
There
was still no answer, despite there being a car in the small parking
area with a Department Of Health Seal on its driver's door.
"We
better call in," George told Elroy. "Something isn`t
right here. Maybe he has already been picked up.
Trekking
back through the vines, they reached the telephone in the ambulance
and made their call.
They
both listened as the hospital dispatcher came back from checking
and told them that Mr. Dallass caregivers had been given
to leaving unexpectedly with no word beforehand. It would seem
the old fellow was very wearing on their nerves, so there was
probably no one there to answer the door, as the old man himself
was bedridden in an upstairs bedroom.
George
and Elroy went once more to the front door and knocked extra loudly...
loud enough to wake the dead. Yielding no results, George tried
the door and it opened inward.
Stepping
inside, they saw a wide stairway to their left. Looking at each
other as to see who would proceed upward in the lead, they both
started out at once... George stepped back in relief as Elroy
led the way up the stairs.
Halfway
up the staircase, they heard sobs coming from up above. At the
top of the hallway they saw a mess of dishes and a serving tray,
as though someone had dropped them in a hurry and kicked them
out of the way.
There
was also a strange odor of acid or something similiar in the hallway.
It smelled like someone had vomited up their very digestive juices.
The
crying came from a room opposite the landing. Hastening quickly
to the source, they found Mr. P.S. Dallas on his bed, sobbing
in terror.
It
took quite some time to calm the old gentleman, plus an injection,
which did not seem to accomplish much.
He
was mumbling, They ate them right in front of me... Right
in front of me! Oh, their cries, their pleas... and I can do nothing...
nothing!!
He
was obviously further out of his mind than George and Elroy had
been told. It would take a while for them to get him ready for
transport. P.S. Dallas was in a great state of hallucination.
Elroy
listened to the man's heart, which was racing wildly, while George
readied another injection. After all that could be done was accomplished,
George went downstairs to fetch the stretcher.
Elroy
continued to talk soothingly to the old man, thinking to himself
that he, for one, would be glad when this job was over. The old
gentleman was quite scary. All that mumbling about the dumbwaiter
and people being eaten was making him nervous. It was right outside
the door.
We
must leave now, the shaking man told Elroy, "before
the dumbwaiter comes. That's how they get up here. Let`s go now...
right now." And he began to sob again.
The
sound of the rusty old pulleys and cables of the dumbwaiter starting
to move came to Elroy's ears above Mr. Dallas's crying. What was
George doing so long? Surely he wasn`t sending the stretcher up
in the dumbwaiter. It wouldn`t fit in there, anyway.
George...
George, whatever is taking you so long, buddy? Elroy called,
stepping into the hallway and peering down the unlit stairs
Behind
him, the creaking came to a halt and the dumbwaiter door slid
slowly open. Elroy turned in time to see the grey green tentacles
come flashing through the opening and curl about his chunky body.
Screaming now in fear, Elroy could feel the tiny suction cups
sucking blood and flesh out of him.
Help
me... Help me!" Elroy screamed as he had never screamed before.
"Please, somebody, help meeeee! His cries soon subsided
in an abrupt gurgle.
Old
Mr. Dallas, partially sedated, heard the dying throes of another
being taken but somehow, through the mist, this time it didn`t
seem quite so horrible.