Timmy
Robert
Francis Dorey
This
is a new story; a story about a little boy.
Not just any little boy, this was Timmy.
Timmy was huge where it counts – the mind. He had powers that were nearly
unimaginable. Timmy had the power to
think of a story and have it come true.
However, he did not always have control over this power. This made him most dangerous in his
sleep. For in sleep the mind’s
unconscious arises and plays out entire people’s lives without your even
realising it…
William
Torrens was a young man in his thirties.
He had recently purchased a new car and at the same time, had been
promoted at his job. No longer was he on
the production line rolling out doll heads, now he was in charge of lowering
the cost of their beady little eyes! His
life was at its pinnacle, its triumph, its ahhh-life-isn’t-too-bad-right-now
stage. Life was, well, everything he had
always wanted.
One
warm summer’s night, Will was walking through Dundary Park on the south end of
the city. It wasn’t far from his office
and every so often he just liked to walk home from work and enjoy the whispers
of the city as it fell into dusk. The
busy sounds of the street, car engines, horns honking, people calling mixed
with the gentle sounds of the park, birds tweeting, the murmur of a nearby
stream, and the light snores of a hobo on a bench. However, this night’s whispers were
changing. In the distance he could here
a growing crackling sound, an ominous, heartless, inhuman sound. Then came the screams; screeches of
terror. Will filled with anxiety. Children’s voices mixed in with the growing
screams and now they were filled with more than terror, they were screams of
pain.
Will
began to run. He didn’t know what for,
or where he had to go, he just knew that people needed help. Each step he took the noise grew and the
crackling became more distinguishable.
The sound, mixed with the growing red flicker reflecting off the high
rises in front of him told the story of a great fire burning. The crackling sound were the flames licking
the sides of buildings, tearing through shops on ground level, but it was also
the almighty rattle of gunfire.
Automatic weapons were firing, and as he drew within a block of the
source of the trouble, he could hear the bullets ripping through concrete,
wood, and human flesh.
As
Will came around the corner, the sight in front of him brought him to his
knees. All that filled his eyes was a
blinding flickering red and orange blaze.
The heat singed his eyebrows, and it felt as though he would never be
able to breathe again. A great rushing
sound filled his head and it caused him to howl in agony. With a great force of determination, he
fought the suffocating weight of the air and got back on his feet. He pushed forward into what he did not
know. Figures, flailing and wriggling in
pain on the pavement floated past him as he marched forward, each step heavier
than the last. The gunfire returned,
more rapid and dreadful than ever. The
skin on his face felt as though it would melt as waves of heat nearly forced
him head over heel. He could see a great
shape looming in front of him now. It
seemed entirely immobile and towered some five stories above his head.
Will
fell to his knees again, the heat overcoming him, the wind pushing him down to
the ground. He could smell his hair burning
now, and the crackle of flames and gunfire filled his ears so that they felt
like they should pop. Most of the
screams had died off now, the shadowy figures had stopped moving, appearing now
only as silent dark heaps on the pavement.
A great crashing sound made Will look up, only to see that the
five-story looming shape had moved towards him at an enormous pace. The intense heat grew, he was sure his face
must be melting now, his vision blurred, his mind was splitting in two, and it
seemed his very soul was aching. Then
the heat subsided, the noise and wind grew dim, and all went dark. Peace overtook him, and he knew nothing more.
“Timmy!”
Timmy
opened his eyes; his vision was blurred.
He stretched and rose up from his bed.
“Timmy! Breakfast”
In
a crackly, freshly-used-in-the-morning voice, Timmy called down to his mother,
“Coming!”