Horror Business (12 page)

Warm colors sharpen as the focus reveals an image of a boy. He sits slouched and light reflects off his glasses and sweaty face. From offscreen, a voice tells him to take off his glasses to reduce the glare.

Boy: But I won’t be able to see.

Offscreen: It doesn’t matter. Just talk.

Boy: Okay. (Takes off glasses) How is this?

Offscreen: You look like a mole. I mean, it’s good.

Boy: What do you want me to say?

Offscreen: Just talk about your favorite scary movies.

Boy: Gee, there are so many.

Offscreen: Well, what
type
of horror do you like best?

Boy: I guess I like
slasher
movies a lot. I just watched
Halloween
again recently.

Offscreen: The original?

Boy: Yeah. I think Mike Meyers is the epitome of movie villains because he’s based on urban legends, which, for all intents and purposes, are real enough.

Offscreen: What do you mean?

Boy: He is the perfect example of the faceless stranger who watches us from the street at night. Or the robber who enters our house when we’re asleep. Or the sound of footsteps that signify our impending doom. We can’t lie to ourselves and say that it’s just a bad dream, or that these monsters don’t exist. Despite what the numerous reincarnations and sequels would suggest, he was just a regular human once. The most effective horror villain has always been your neighbor. Killers are us, or what we have the potential to become.

Offscreen: Don’t they mention something like that in the original
Dawn of the Dead?

Boy: Yeah, I like zombie movies for that reason too. And vampire movies. That dude in
Dawn of the Dead
—

Offscreen: Ken Foree.

Boy: Yeah, he has that line about the zombies: “We are them; they are us.” But those movies are different because they deal with what we could become. That familiarity is especially noticeable in those fucked-up scenes where someone the character knows—a loved one, family member, child—becomes a zombie or vampire or whatever and they have to kill it. It’s actually more tragic than terrifying.

Offscreen: That’s why they have to pile on the gore—to counteract the philosophizing and all that. Zombie movies have imagined every possible way that a human can get opened up.

Boy: Well yeah. That kind of segues into body horror, another genre I really like. Movies where change is going on inside you, stuff that you can’t control.
Alien,
The Fly
…
I guess most stuff made by Cronenburg.

Offscreen: Oh yeah.
Shivers
used to be called
They Came from Within.

Boy: Right, when you can’t control what’s going on with your body. (Pause) Was that good? Did you get everything you needed?

Offscreen: Yeah, thanks. (Pause) You know what, Greg?

Boy: What?

Offscreen: You’re a big fucking nerd, you know that?

The boy laughs and the image goes black.

It’s Ally’s birthday, but there’s no party. She says she’s sick of all her friends, that all they ever do now is talk about boys. “It’s so boring,” she says. I tell her that we should watch a movie at my house.

“I have one in mind.” she says. “You’ll like it.”

She arrives around 9:00 p.m. wearing a big sweatshirt with the hood over her head—prime sneaking-out attire. She seems nervous, constantly looking over her shoulder. A car rushes past and she pushes her way into my house.

She pulls out a box with a grainy black and white image of a madman on it.
Eraserhead
, it reads.

“Have you ever seen this?” Ally asks.

“No.”

The stark contrast on the screen puts the room in an eerie glow. I keep double-checking to see if the shadows in the corners are cast from the television or something else. I scoot closer to Ally and pull a blanket over us.

From quick glances at the movie, I can tell that I probably
would
like it, but that interest quickly fades when I slip my hand under her shirt, resting on the bare skin of her waist. She wiggles closer, filling any space between us with her body. We become twin lightning bolts. I try to hide my excitement by pulling away but she keeps pushing. We pretend to watch the movie.

I sweep my hand up her side, brushing my fingers against the bottom of her ribcage. My hands are sweaty, and my pulse pounds. I curse myself for not being smoother. When she makes no attempt to stop me, I decide to take the plunge and move higher up her body. I almost make it up to her boobs when I chicken out and end up in her armpit. My sweaty hand rests under her arm. She giggles and tells me that I’m tickling her. I retreat back to her ribcage where my thumb can still scrape the bottom of her bra. Ally’s breathing hard. Her stomach muscles are tense too.

I suddenly have to sneeze, and I take my hand out from under her shirt to cover my mouth. She takes the opportunity to turn around. We face each other.

We make out.

My hand moves back under her shirt. It finds confidence. I move up past her ribs so I’m cupping her padded bra, and try to enter from below and above but just end up crumpling the material in my hand.

I relax, lick the inside of her mouth some more.

My fingers slip under the wire until I’m skin to skin. She’s colder than I though she’d be; no amount of pillow-holding could’ve prepared me for the softness of her flesh. The bra presses my hand hard against her breast. Once I’m in I can’t really do very much but hold it.

She gets rid of her bra with some amazing trick that doesn’t require her to take the sweatshirt off.

Back to making out.

With no bra, I’m free to roam the territory. I move from breast to breast, cupping the sides. Kneading them. I even pinch her. She lets out a little yelp when I do this, but reaches up to grab my head and run her fingers through my hair. I take this as passion and grind harder onto her leg.

I hold her face and mess her hair, like she did for me. Hopefully she appreciates this passion.

My hand is now at her waist. My pinky feels around under the elastic of her pajama pants, lifting it up, inviting the rest of the fingers in. They all follow until they reach the beginning of a small patch of coarse hair. They stop.

“Um …” Ally begins.

“What is it?” I ask.

“Never mind.” She closes her eyes and pulls my head to hers.

In her pants, I hesitate longer at the hairline and casually buy time by sweeping my hands around her thighs in a U-motion. She rocks her hips in anticipation so I move down.

Ally groans deeply and shivers.

“Careful,” she says.

I’m careful.

While I’m doing this, Ally reaches down. She pulls my belt loose, pinching my belly with the latch. Then she opens the button and unzips the fly. When she slides my boxers down, I’m exposed and volatile without the comfort of fabric. She glances down and looks back up at me with what I hope is approval. She wraps all her fingers around me.

We begin a rhythm.

Breathing hard in each other’s faces, we don’t even pretend to make out anymore. I know this is a moment that I should be noting every detail. It’s hard to concentrate though, and my mind becomes light. A small pressure builds. My toes curl. I desperately reach for Ally’s mouth with mine.

A door from somewhere in the house opens and shuts.

I throw the blanket over us. Ally grabs for her bra on the floor. Shuffling footsteps pass behind us. The kitchen light turns on.

Dad opens the refrigerator and grabs something to drink. He’s in his pajamas and doesn’t make any attempt to acknowledge us. He settles on some old milk, drinks, burps, and returns to bed.

We put on our clothes and watch the rest of
Eraserhead
without any more interruptions. It actually turns out to be pretty scary.

***

We wake up around 5:00 a.m. and Ally kisses my cheek before she goes home. I go back to sleep. I forget to tell her happy birthday.

INT: DETECTIVE RAIMI’S HOUSE, DAY

RAIMI kicks open the door to his house, gun drawn and ready to go. He looks delirious: a loose cannon. The hand-held camera follows him from room to room as he searches for his wife, SISSY.

RAIMI

Sissy! Where are you baby?

RAIMI bursts into his room but the POV is from inside the room; the audience can’t see what he sees. Something horrible. He lowers his gun and sits on the bed. He puts his head down and cries.

RAIMI

Oh God. How could this happen? I’m sorry. So sorry. I thought I could save you but I failed.

CUT TO: Dead SISSY lying on the bed. Her head is bashed; there’s brain all over the headboard. Her face remains perfectly intact. Her eyes stare back at RAIMI. He reaches out to close her eyes.

TED

(Appearing out of nowhere, surprising RAIMI) I wouldn’t do that if I were you.

RAIMI

(Completely full of rage) You son of a bitch! You give me one good reason why I shouldn’t blow you away right now (cocks his gun).

TED

Easy, shooter. We both know that you’re not going to kill me or else you would’ve done it when you had the chance.

RAIMI wipes tears from his face and lowers his gun.

TED (CONT’D)

There you go. It’s good to see that all those years on the force have put
some
sense into you—

RAIMI suddenly lifts his gun and shoots TED in the shoulder, sending him to the ground. RAIMI jumps on TED and pummels his face over and over.

RAIMI

You asshole. You stole my life. You murdered my wife! I’m not going to take you in. We’re going to end this right now!

TED grabs RAIMI’S fist and throws him off. An epic fight ensues. They get thrown around, things break. At one point, RAIMI puts his finger in TED’S bullet wound and blood spurts out. The fight ends on the bed, on top of dead SISSY. TED eventually traps RAIMI under him, gets control of the gun and shoots RAIMI in the shoulder.

TED

You can’t win. You could’ve stopped this. I gave you the chance. Besides this is secretly what you wanted anyway.

RAIMI

What are you talking about?

TED

C’mon, brother. This is the case that you wanted to be remembered for, right? All those years, serving the people, and what have you got to show for it? Nothing. You wanted to go out with a bang.

RAIMI

You’re sick. You think I would’ve let you kill all those people for a little recognition?

TED

Like I said before, I don’t think you and I are very different in the long run. You just won’t admit it—you can’t handle the fact that you take a little pleasure when you put a bullet in a bad guy. I mean,
that’s
sick: a cop who takes pleasure in killing. What would your wife think? Well, I guess she wouldn’t think much now (he nods to the body). So that’s why you’re not going to kill me. That’s why you
need
me. (Beat) And that’s why you created me.

RAIMI

(Stops struggling to break free) What did you say?

TED

C’mon, do you think
Ted Raimi
really exists? Sounds pretty convenient, doesn’t it? The “twin brother,” a psycho brother to the straight-laced cop. It’s all pretty clever if you ask me.

RAIMI

Who are you?

TED

I’m you Sammy-boy. I thought you knew that.

RAIMI

How?

TED

It’s really easy if you think about it. Simple even: you were bored. You spent countless, thankless years on the force and you needed some action. What better way to get your kicks than by creating an evil twin. You could kill by night and hunt me by day. When you’re on both sides of the law you can’t lose! What makes it better is that people were finally giving you the attention that you deserved. “Sam Raimi: Star Cop!” I guess it does have a nice ring to it. Even your old lady was giving us more attention. Do you remember the last time she treated you so nice?

RAIMI

(Realization sinking in) No. …

TED

But pretty soon, she found out. So she had to go.

Cut to a shot of RAIMI on the bed next his dead wife. TED is gone. Cut back to TED back on top of RAIMI.

RAIMI

(Looks over at his dead wife) No,
you did this!

TED

No.
We did this!

RAIMI breaks down and cries again.

RAIMI

(Between sobs) But … Crony … he saw you.

TED

No, he saw your twin. There were a lot of mirrors in that place, brother. Besides, he deserved it anyway. He was an idiot.

RAIMI

But … my wife. I loved her (he sounds very unsure when he says this).

TED

We did. We did love her. But sometimes you have to hurt the ones you love. At least we had a fun time doing it.

TED slowly gets off of RAIMI and they both sit on the bed in silence. RAIMI runs his fingers through his dead wife’s hair. TED whistles. Finally, RAIMI breaks the silence.

RAIMI

So, what do we do now?

TED

We called for back up.

RAIMI

(Very distant) Yes … they should be here pretty soon.

TED

This can still be a happy ending. If you kill me, you can be the Hero Cop who saved the day! If you don’t stop me, I’ll just keep killing. By killing me, you can save us both.

RAIMI

(Obviously delusional) Tell me what to do.

TED