The Pendulum
"Lenore…bah. I was never into all that lubby-dubby stuff.," Allen's cellmate quipped. "I've never really loved a woman, just parts of them, ha-ha," the cellmate continued.
"OK, so anyways….you love this chick Lenore, and you killed a guy for banging her, not bad. I prefer the quick and dirty way myself though. That's why I'm in here. I shot a guy four times in the head. Didn't need the last three, but it just felt good. Guy had it coming…he was in my way. I was holding about five grand in one hand, and the punk tried to get all heroic on me." the cellmate boasted. Allen sat there, unimpressed.
"Bullet to the head…so simple," Allen said, mockingly. "You could've been a little bit more creative," Allen said. "You killed a man in half a second, with no effort…nothing to show for it."
"Man…you have some serious problems," the cellmate commented. "No man deserves to die a slow death. I hope I go like he did, man. Screw this waiting around to die crap; I'll take a bullet to the brain or the chair any day over waiting around to die in this dump."
Allen sat quietly, unresponsive for a while. Then, after a slight pause, he uttered: "There's another one."
"Huh? What do you mean 'another one'?'" the cellmate asked.
"There's another man I've killed, and I must say it tops even my antics with Mr. Vogel." Allen smirked, the cold grin returning to his face.
"….man, you're starting to creep me out. I don't know if I want to hear this. But hey, what the hell…why not. Lay it on me bro. I ain't got nothing to do."
Allen collected his thoughts, and recalled the memories as best he could:
It was two years prior to the current date. Allen was walking around his neighborhood, simply walking around, observing the sights and seeing the people going about their lives. He walked past the local bar where his eyes came across a man.
This man was an unknown. He was a type of man that if he had never existed, most likely the world would not have changed. He was ordinary, nothing about him was flagrant. He wore a black suit with a brown shirt, and was casually sitting at the bar, enjoying his daily spirit.
Allen could not stand the sight of him. His face was misshapen, and the demeanor of the man disgusted Allen.
"I must take it upon myself to rid the world of this man. Never again will anyone see his face." Allen thought to himself.
He walked into the bar, and sat himself next to this ordinary man. Allen ordered a pint, and struck up a conversation with the man. It turns out, the two men had more in common than Allen realized, only the man had a grotesque face.
The two men shared a taste in wine, specifically casks of bourbon and sherry. Allen, being his usual charismatic self, invited the man over for a taste, only to have the ordinary man oblige.
As they left the pub, Allen was all in a frenzy about his wine, chatting up his favorite years and debating the pros and cons of dry sherry versus the finer bourbon. Allen genuinely enjoyed conversing with the man, only he had to avoid looking the man in the face.
The two eventually reach the cellar of Allen's house, where Allen starts demonstrating his different bottles to his visitor. The man asks about a strange wall that occupies a strange angle in the corner, and Allen immediately dismisses it as abstract architecture, having been there since he moved in.
Allen ushers the man back upstairs, the two have decided to open a bottle of brandy and further discuss their tastes in spirits. Allen sees to it the man is comfortable, and proceeds to pour his drink. He manages to distract the man long enough to slip a pill in the man's drink, watching it fizzle as the man was blabbering on about a painting of father time on the wall.
When the man was finished discussing the elegant paint strokes and beautiful palette, he held the glass of brandy in his hand, warming it to taste. He then began to sip it, slowly at first but after getting a taste, he managed to finish it off.
"Well sir, I do in fact commend you on your selection. I do ask, however, if you have any food. It's been a few hours since I have eaten, and am just wondering if I could bother you for a sandwich."
Allen, still maintain his polite demeanor, arose from the table, and turned around to fix the man a meal, only to hear a loud thud as the man's head hit the table.
About an hour had passed since the man passed out, and a periodic creaking brought the man out of his weary state.
The man tried to get up from lying down, only to realize that he could not move. A few more seconds passed, and he realized he was actually tied down. As he started to regain focus, he could hear the creaking sounds growing closer and closer.
"Wh…what is this?" the man asked aloud to what he thought was himself.
"I left some food for you, in case you're still hungry." Allen shouted from a few floors up. The man looked around, his eyes eventually adjusting to the darkness. He saw a plate of beef slightly out of his arm's reach, and it was being consumed by rats.
"Who are you? Why am I strapped here?" The man shouted. Allen was already gone. The man could now see the room, and finally realized what the continuous creaking was.
He was in the bell tower of the city clock. The razor sharp pendulum was creaking with each oscillation, and the man was immobilized right below its swiping path.
The man was in full fear now. He was writhing about, nearly dislocating his joints trying to escape, but to no avail. He was bandaged down tight.
He managed to look over at his "meal" and saw that the rats had returned, and were gnawing at the rancid flesh that was left for him. He realized that if he could just reach it, he could eventually find an escape route.
He got his right arm loosened just enough to grab hold of a chunk of meat, and began to rub it on his bindings. After saturating the ropes with the bloody pulp, he lay as still could be, and let the rats gnaw through the ropes.
His patience paid off, and within a few minutes, he was free, and escaped the path of the creaking scythe. He escaped to the nearest corner, which was farthest from the pendulum, and looked around for any form of exit.
His eyes caught a hole where the rats were pouring in and out of, and noticed the darkness of the rotted wood above it. His desperation and delirious state gave him the idea to charge through the wall, and escape to his salvation.
For this story, I made a few pretty big changes to the story, but tried to keep the basic plot about The Pit and the Pendulum the same.
In the original story, the author first gets thrown in the pit and walks around, pacing and trying to find out the shape of his tomb in pure darkness, then loses consciousness. He then wakes up to find bread and water, and being extremely thirsty, drunks the water, which he later suspects to be drugged. He then falls back to sleep only to wake up and find himself strapped down. Also, in the original he is left alone, no one watching him (at least no one the narrator can see or hear).
I decided to change these parts a little, to sort of make him a prisoner of a madman rather than of a tyrannical government. The man is still very much a prisoner, only this time I decided the man needs to be innocent, his only crime is having a face that Allen cannot stand to see. I wanted to have some sort of reason for Allen to kill this man, no matter how ridiculous it may be. I think having Allen kill a man because of his face is very fitting, since he already cut a man up for having a weird eye.
Also, in the original the man escapes (anti-climactically I must add) by having French troops break through the wall and rescue him. I decided to have the man escape himself, because it adds more drama than having some random French soldier rescue him.
I feel these changes were necessary to keep up some sort of continuity between the stories. I also left the ending wide open, since Allen assumes the man was killed. I chose the have the man escape, and then drop off to leave open some sort of hole to segue into my next story…which I'm still not sure about yet.
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