Tower of Obsession- Exerpt from Dark Trails, A Collection of Horror Short Stories

 The passage below is an excerpt from the story Tower of Obsession, from Dark Trails: A Collection of Horror Short Stories from the Visionary Mind of Dexter Holland.

The suffocatingly loud crashing ceased, along with the wailing of the beasts. A quiet sense of mortality hung in the still air like the stench of feces hangs around public restrooms in France. Still I waited, in this little safe corner of the World. Eventually two of the Newcomers left, striding across the floor in the typical beast way and disappearing through the door at the edge of the Worlds. Strange noises and scents had come through that door before, scents that struck fear into my little beating heart. I scratched at my leg, working up the courage to go investigate the strange happenings that had occurred in the Room of Pleasure.

I stalked down the relatively narrow canyon that lead to the wide area. Fear gripped my heart again and I fought the urge to flee. Madness, sheer madness awaited me in that once beloved place of sanctuary. Smoke hung heavy in the air, visible in some places as it reflected the ambient light from the three Suns. The Tower of Lights and Sounds squawked and chattered, in it’s place, backed up against one of the Great Walls. There was a new scent in the air. I sniffed again to make sure. The smell of destruction, the pungent reek of unnecessary death, of teen suicide and veterinarians.

The Tower of Obsession, once standing tall, was no more. It lay splintered and dead on the floor. Dozens of broken pieces lay scattered over the floor, spreading for miles. The three remaining beasts reclined on the white mountains, their eyes red and droopy, something I had come to associate with the sharp scent of smoke that hovered in layers around the scene.

Fear gradually gave way to sadness in my heart, the sadness of beauty lost, and of things that would never be. I gingerly stepped forward and took a step onto the wreckage. Time to search for survivors. Carefully I crawled around every inch of the wreckage, using my nose for some clue as to what had happened. Testosterone laden sweat was smeared all over the brown pieces, butter on toast. I gave it a lick, then hastily licked a part of my body to get the taste out. There were no words to explain what had happened. Vainly I tried to ask, to extract from these monstrous beasts any bit of information that could explain what had happened to the proud Tower.

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