Who's Sorry Now?
This short horror tale appeared in issue number five of Desert Sun. Story copyright 1988, William D.
Cissna.


Ah well, it really doesn't, you know, matter, not any, too much more, not really if it's, could be somethin'
else but don't think so, the way it looks, clear as a bell, got away clean, not if they're really, truly gone.
Don't believe it, not for a minute, you guys better not either.
Damn quiet in here, really, mean it, fell like I'm talkin' to myself, hope you're lissening out there, can't
see ya but I know for sure you're, yes I do, you're out there or else, and then Granny said it warn't no
varmint. Hey, you guys, come on, you lissened right good afore you drug me here, won't you, please,
time's short, time's a-wastin', maybe, don't know, not in here.
Taint crazy, nope, that's what you're thinkin', goin' on some but no, farmer, big spread, gotta harvest,
milk 'em cows, damn, what's with the milk?
Government types, hell, can't trust 'em, not a one. Try to take your farm, take your money, take you
away. Twasn't my fault nohow, damn thing crashed in my back field, the one with the soybeans, hate
them things but good money crop, sometimes, nuthin' much good these days.
Big boom, hoo hah yes, thud like a boulder dropped from a million miles up, no fire though, suppose
you're interested in all this, you weren't there or nuthin'. I'm not here now, I sure wish not.
You can't believe what it was like, out there, not that day. I had kids and a wife, Granny knew it, what it
was, what they were, not me, not Mister In Control, what they call Macho Man, I knew it all.
I knew nothing!
Big round thing it was, big's my house, dammit, you lissenin', none a them lights like in the old movies,
just smooth and shiny like silver, quiet as a graveyard when Jeb an me went out to look. No sound,
nuthin' movin', coulda been empty or full, we dint know. Guess it was full.
I know you're there, think I'm stark ravin', mirror don't fool me none, on tother side you're jawin' and
starin', look at that crazy fool, thinks he saw him some Martians, hoo wee. Got me in here with one
bright lightbulb and one big damn chair bolted to the floor, yes sirree, you got it all figured out.
You're bout as wrong as it gets. Got you one crazy like all the other crazies, made him another you-foe
sighting, hush it up 'n bury the evidence.
Good fuckin' luck, buddies. You're so bright, tell me where my chickens and my cows and my family and,
may God help her, mother went to, you do that, just up and left the farm, did they. Hell, no, they ain't
missin', they are dead. Granny said it weren't no varmint, damn ya, let me outta this room.
First thing, cows went skittery, milk weren't no good, wouldn't stand still, bloody chicken bones in the
yard, cows disappearing, hungry sons a bitches, then I saw why.
Weren't no varmint, Granny said, and then that little thing that looked somethin' like a six-legged mink
that were caught in a prairie fire, it just, oh God, it chewed her leg right off at the knee and the blood,
Lordy, like an oil strike. Took the thirty aught to it, hell, she was bleedin', might's well have shot into
molasses, just took that shot and sorta re-formed, dint give a lick for the worst I could do to it.
Ran then, like a goddam coward, in the truck and gone like a big bird, went to town, lotta good that did,
sheriff called you clowns, by the time you came sheriff had his own problems, they'd moved on, hell,
they'd et everything -- I mean, everybody -- at my place. Must a been a thousand of 'em, God, they was
ugly, and they was, well, multiplyin' or somethin'. Little uns and big uns, like a locust swarm, runnin'
around out there, hungry bastards, you clowns better be thinkin' nuclear blast or such, you wanta stop 'em.
So you put me in here for, what you call it, observation, should be out there fightin' the little buggers,
how long I been in here, anyway? Pisses me off, lockin' me up like this. Lissen to me, willya?
You know, they say crazy people, or people are just plumb mad enough, got a lotta strength. Whaddya say
I pick up this chair, right now, break your precious mirror? Here it ... ah, God, it's ... AAAGGGHHHH ....
tough! Popped one, popped TWO ... here it COMES, you sonsa bitches! Got it now! Up and in the air --
smash! Ha! I'll show you weak-kneed sisters who's crazy!
Where is everybody? Nobody watchin' me in there? What the HELL is going on? Oh my God, lookit that.
Bet that ain't red paint all over them walls. And them puddles on the floor. Lord amighty, them poor
bastards woulden lissen, would they? Got themselves et, and we must be thirty mile from my place.
Movin' fast, the little buggers.
Lookit that out the window. Like the ground turned black. Must be somethin' in the air, or mebbe in the
blood, they like. Or mebbe they knew that when they come here.
Party's over, Edwin Jones. One way or tother, it's over. Either they'll try to blow them up, and that's one
kind of end, or they won't, and that's tother kind.
Guess I might's well shut up and meander on outside now.
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Horror shorts -
by Bill Cissna