Frozen Chapter 1
Written by: Marc Lime
Submitted on: 2008/06/16
Rating: 3/5 with 670 views

Tim did not want to go home to his nagging wife. He'd much rather stay at the bar, continue drinking beer and watch the football game.

A drunk man bellowed at Tim from the next bar stool over, getting a little too close for comfort. His breath reeked of liquor and jalapeno peppers. "Hey buddy! I heard it is supposed to snow tonight. Imagine that. Snow in the beginning of October!"

Tim replied with disbelief in his eyes. "Oh yeah? I haven't heard anything about that. Where'd you hear this from?"

The intoxicated man slurred "I saw it on the news...Say, what's your name? My name's Alex, I'm an electrician, I been working about a half a mile outside the city rewiring some old buildings."

"My name is Tim."

Alex drunkenly laughed in Tim's face for no reason while spraying him with spittle, "Well nice to meet you Tim.

Snow in October did not surprise Tim. He had only lived in Michigan for 4 years, but already knew the weather was very unpredictable. The worst part was the cold winters. He hated the cold. He was used to the warm sunshine of Atlanta, Georgia. Getting transferred to Michigan was the best thing that ever happened to him though. His job in Georgia was going nowhere, and he was stuck at a dead end. When they offered him a higher position in Michigan, he knew he couldn't pass it up. It gave him a chance to see his brother Buck, who moved to Michigan eleven years ago to get married. So far everything had been going smoothly, almost too smooth in Tim's opinion. He sensed something coming, something big. He didn't know if it was good or bad.

Tim felt Alex rest his hand on his shoulder. "Ah! What the fuck man?" Tim shouted at the drunken electrician.

A look of surprise appeared on the face of Alex as he lifted his hand from Tim's shoulder. "Sorry man, you were zoning out on that bottle of Grey Goose. I was just making sure you were all right. I didn't mean to startle you."

Getting annoyed with this drunken man's horrible breath, and being sprayed in the face with spit, Tim stood up and put on his jacket. "Hey it's all right man, I've just been tired. I'm going to head home now. Nice meeting you Alex."

"You're not driving are you?" Alex asked.

"No, I only live a few blocks away." Tim said as he walked away.

The blast of fresh air tasted good as he walked down the street. He hated the smell of cigarettes and wished the government would ban smoking in public places. He hated that his wife smoked 2 packs of Pall Malls a day. The worst thing in the world to him was waking up to a lungful of cigarette smoke.

After walking a couple blocks, Tim began to wish he had worn a heavier jacket. Yeah maybe that guy is right. Hopefully it snows so much I won't be able to go into work. I sure could use two days off in a row.

When Tim reached his home he felt relieved. All he wanted to do was climb into his bed and drift into a deep sleep. As he walked through the door he heard an ear piercing scream come from the basement. He opened the middle drawer under the cereal cabinet, grabbed the biggest steak knife he could find, and rushed down the basement stairs.

"Ahhhhhhhhh get away!" He heard as he stumbled down the last step. Oddly, what he saw did not scare him. It made him laugh. It made him laugh so hard he dropped the knife and fell onto the ground. His panic-stricken wife was standing on a chair with a face as white as a ghost. In front of her, a tiny mouse sat on the ground playing with a milk cap.

"Why are you laughing? Kill it you good for nothing drunk!" Tim's wife screamed at him with rage.

"Relax, it's just a mouse." Tim said calmly. "It's not going to hurt you."

"The fuck it's not!" She yelled. She picked up an ancient dictionary off of the cobweb infested cabinet, and threw it onto the mouse. A small amount of blood shot out of the bottom of the book.

"I got the little bastard!" She said proudly.

"Yeah you sure did," said Tim. "Why'd you have to kill him? He wasn't hurting anybody."

"I hate mice! I wish every mouse on the planet would just die! Then I can live in peace!" She shouted at him.

"Yeah I'm sure all the mice on the entire planet hate you too. Just pray you aren't in the same room with them all at once!" He shouted in return as he walked up the stairs.

Tim hated when Martha shouted at him. He was a quiet man and enjoyed silence. He often pondered about what it would be like to have married someone else, or not even be married for that matter. "It must be nice to walk into a nice peaceful quiet house with no one around shouting and no one barking orders as they sat on their ass and watched television." He thought to himself.

"Aren't you going to clean this mess up? I'm not touching this pile of blood and guts!" Martha shouted up the stairs.

Tim just kept on walking and pretended like he didn't hear her even though she continued screaming at him as he walked through the kitchen. He went up the stairs into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Out of the corner of his eye he saw snowflakes outside of the window. "I guess that drunken fool was right. It is snowing outside!" Tim said out loud. "I wonder if it'll stick."

After Tim brushed his teeth, he put on his pajamas and climbed on to his side of the bed. Off to work tomorrow. God, I need a vacation. Little did Tim know, God was listening to him at that precise moment.

His dreams were full of death and destruction, though he could barely remember anything about it when he woke up bright an early the next day. Thoughts lingered in his subconscious of the horrible nightmare, which gave him an uneasy feeling. Walking over to the window, he looked outside expecting to see lots of snow. Instead, he saw the snow mostly melted.

His wife was still asleep. She surely would sleep well into the afternoon. Tim wished she didn't stay up all night playing Internet poker. He also wished they could go out on dates like they used to before they were married.

After Tim showered and ate his usual breakfast of corn flakes and bananas, he went out to his 1989 Ford Tempo. He had been meaning to buy a new car for quite some time now, but his alcohol addiction has made this rather impossible for the time being.

Driving to work was something that Tim enjoyed. The people of the city had already arrived at their jobs, making the expressway desolate. He was appreciative that he didn't have to go to work at 7 a.m. like his neighbors. Waking up at 10 a.m. everyday was early enough for him.

Tim pulled off the freeway and passed the usual landmarks on route to his job just like he did every morning. He parked in his normal parking spot. So far this was just a routine day for him. After he unlocked the door and turned on the lights he started up the cash registers, and got the money out of the safe to get ready for the day. Mondays were usually busy for his store since they weren't open on Sundays.

Tim opened the store like usual. Hmmmm none of my workers are here yet. They better not be too late, there is already a line of people outside. By the time noon came around, and none of his employees came in yet, he began to get worried. Business was booming that day and he was starting to fall behind.

As Tim was scanning roughly sixty cans of cat food for an elderly lady with a mink coat, a burley looking man approached him. He was covered in tattoos, and chains. He was wearing leather pants, a Harley Davidson shirt, and carried a motorcycle helmet in his left hand.

He said to Tim in a loud raspy voice, "I need you to get me the 20 pound dog food bag from the top shelf."

Tim replied calmly, "Sir, I believe there are some on the ground level that you can grab."

The biker became enraged. He clenched his fists and said through gritting teeth, "I don't want those ones. The ones on top have a longer expiration date. Haven't you ever heard the phrase; the customer is always right?"

Tim began to feel uneasy. He had dealt with that kind of person before. The same thing always happened. He threatened to call the police and they get scared and leave. He's never actually had to call the police on anyone, and hope he never does.

"Listen buddy," Tim said a bit louder than before. "None of my employees showed up today and I am running this entire store by myself. So if you would please just grab a bag off the floor that would be very helpful. I'm sure you can see I have a line of at least twenty people here, and you are already holding them up."

Tim then saw something he wished he did not see. A giant vein popped out of the biker's forehead and another in his neck. The crazed man started to breathe heavier and heavier until he was shaking with madness. The next thing Tim saw was a motorcycle helmet flying towards his face. Then darkness.

When he recovered, all he could make out were 4 blurry figures. They were all looking down on him, making him feel like he was in a coffin. The blurs slowly turned into faces, and the faces slowly turned into familiarity. His coworkers had finally arrived to work.

Tim sat up quickly, confused of his whereabouts. He then realized that was a huge mistake. As soon as he did, a wave of nausea hit him.

A red haired girl, dressed in a Waldo's Pet Store shirt, gently put her hand behind Tim's back and her other hand on his chest and carefully laid him back down. "You had us scared," she said worriedly. "We walked into the store and seen him robbing an old lady of her diamonds and trashing the store. You were unconscious behind the register with blood covering your face. Steve ran out to his car and grabbed his baseball bat and scared him out. After that, I called the police and gave them the guy's description."

Angrily Tim demanded to know why they were so late coming into work.

"That would be my fault sir," replied Steve, who was Tim's favorite employee. Steve always got the job done and was excellent with the customers. "I took these guys out to this party last night and we had a little too much fun and passed out there. On the way back home I got a flat tire. I went to put the spare on and realized that the spare was flat too. So, Bobby and I ended up walking about 10 miles to a gas station while the girls stayed and looked after the car. The gas station sold us a rim and a tire, but said they couldn't help us with a ride back. We were out of money from buying the tire so a cab was out of the question. We ended up having to walk 10 miles back to the car."

Tim asked the girls if this is true. Both the girls nod in agreement.

"I think you should go home and relax Tim, you don't look so good." Steve said with concern.

Tim replied, "I think you're right Steve, that guy really got me good. Can you handle running the store by yourself?"

"Of course I can," said Steve Proudly. "You trained me."

The drive home for Tim was not as pleasant as the drive to work. People drove like idiots. A lady on her cell phone cut him off driving a red Mustang.

"Nice blinker bitch!" Tim yelled through closed windows at the businesswoman as he popped her the birdie. "Goddamn cell phones! They need to make it illegal to drive and talk on those things at the same time." He shouted.

It started raining heavily when he was halfway home. Visibility was so bad due to the rain; he had to slow down to 15 mph on the freeway. The traffic got slower and slower until finally it stopped moving all together. Tim flipped on the radio to his favorite classic rock station. He enjoyed the classics like the Rolling Stones and Led Zeppelin. He hated how the classic rock stations were playing Devo and Metallica. It was an insult to classic rock. That type of music was music for punk kids to listen to. Jimi Hendrix was on the radio covering All Along the Watch Tower. He turned the volume to the halfway mark and started singing along.

Traffic began to creep a bit faster after about twenty minutes of turtle speed. Tim noticed that the cars were being forced into his lane. "Probably an accident ahead." He thought to himself.

He was right. A Cadillac was flipped upside down. A Dodge Neon was smashed against a wall, it's rear end bent upright. A Ford Aerostar was on its side, its windshield sprayed across the concrete, with thick black smoke billowing from the open hood. Tim saw a bloody arm hanging out of the Cadillac. He turned his head in disgust.

Traffic began to pick up and he was home before he knew it. As he pulled up to his house he noticed a white van in his driveway with Simcast Cable written on the side of it.

"Maybe Martha was having trouble with the cable." Tim thought to himself. He checked the mailbox, but it was empty. Tim realized he was hungry and started to think about what to make for lunch. It would be nice to have lunch with Martha. Tim walked into his house and set his keys on the kitchen table. He climbed the stairs and went into the bathroom to relieve himself. As he was sitting on the toilet he heard his wife moaning from the bedroom. He did a quick wipe, jumped up, pulled his pants up, and ran into his bedroom.

What Tim then saw made something inside him snap. Two males were naked with his wife. One was screwing her from behind while she was giving head to another. The man's eyes grew wide as Tim ran into the room.

"Shit, who's this guy?" asked the man receiving the oral sex.

Martha turned her head and saw Tim. "Oh fuck!" She yelped. She knew there was no getting out of this one. "What are you doing home Tim? You're supposed to be at work!"

Tim laughed as a crazed grin spread across his face. "Oh, I think you are asking the wrong question." He said. "The correct question for the final jeopardy answer is why in the fuck are you fucking the cable guys you stupid whore?"

Tim picked up his twenty-seven inch television set, violently ripping the plug out of the wall, and smashed the screen through one of the cable guy's head. The weight of the TV pulled the man instantly to the ground causing a tremendous crash, as his lifeless body twitched for a few seconds.

Tears spilled down Martha's face as she shrieked, "What in the fuck did you just do you bastard? You just fucking killed him! You motherfucker!"

"Oh oops sorry about that!" Tim said with a maddening laugh. "I must have gotten carried away!"

The other man was scared out of his mind. His face filled with terror as he made an escape attempt. With a look of repulsion in his eyes, Tim grabbed the fleeing man by his long hair and smashed his face into the wall.

"Oh you're trying to run away? Are you scared?" Tim screamed into the man's ear.

The man was too scared to answer. He saw his life coming to an end. He did not want to die. He most certainly didn't want to die for sleeping with a man's wife. He was married with three children. His children needed him. He was still in shock over seeing his coworker get a television set smashed through his head. This could not be happening to him. Things like this just didn't happen around here. They just didn't happen.

"Answer me!" Tim screamed. "Answer me or I'll fucking kill you right now!"

"Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!" his wife screamed over and over again, while pulling at her hair as her black eyeliner dripped down her cheeks, leaving a dark trail.

"Oh, so you want me to stop?" Tim asked his wife in a violent tone. "Yeah I'll stop it all right! I'll make it all stop!"

Tim began to repeatedly hit the naked man on the small of his back with clenched fists until he collapsed the floor. Tim yanked him up by his hair and dragged him over to a fish tank full of piranhas.

"Any last words Mr. Porn Star?" Tim furiously asked.

All the man could muster was a weak "please."

"Don't mind if I do." Tim said, as he dunked the man's head into the fish tank. "I haven't fed my fish in days, you're going to make them very happy." The piranhas instantly started ripping pieces of flesh from the man's face. In less than no time, his entire nose was gone. Seconds later, both his ears missing. He watched blood spiral through the water, making beautiful art. Tim thought he saw an elephant shape in the blood but it quickly disappeared. The water turned completely red, and the man stopped struggling. Tim still heard the fish tearing pieces of flesh off of the man's face but could not see anything due to the blood-saturated water.

"Wasn't that funny honey?" Tim asked his wife. "So are we going to screw now? All this violence has gotten me pretty horny!"

His wife did not answer. She sat immobile with her knees pressed against her chest, rocking back and forth. She was staring at the wall with an empty look in her eyes. Tim approached her and waved his hand in front of her face, which did not seem to faze her.

Tim didn't know what to do as he was coming back to reality. He had never been so violent in his life and now he wondered if he was in over his head. The first thing he needed to do was dispose of the bodies. Bring them to the basement. Yes that is what I should do. Hide them in the basement until I can think of something better. There was a huge mess in the bedroom and he needed to remove all the evidence. There were bloody pieces of glass everywhere from the broken television set. The entire area around the fish tank was a disaster area.

"The first thing I have to do is get this TV off this dead fuck's head," he muttered. The television was a newer style. He had bought it two years ago when their old television turned off in the middle of a thunder storm, never to turn on again.

Tim grabbed the television by both sides, propped his right foot against his dresser, and gave it a good tug. It did not even budge. "I'll give it one more try." He said to himself. "I'll have to get the chainsaw if I can't get this thing off his head." Sounds of the queen from Alice in Wonderland ran through his head, making him laugh. Off with his head! Off with his head! The laughter transformed into tears.

Enough of this! He gave the television set another tug and heard a sound like the ripping of sheets as it came off the man's head with little restraint. Giant bloody gashes covered the man's head from the broken glass. The vomit just came without warning. Tim sprayed puke onto the corpse, splattering its lifeless chest.

"Sorry about that pal," Tim said out loud. "I didn't mean to puke on you. I hope you don't hold grudges."

Tim grabbed a sheet out of the linen closet and laid it across his bedroom floor. He pulled the remains of the piranha's lunch out of the fish tank and dropped it onto the sheet. The only thing that remained of the man's head was a skull. Blood seeped through the sheet onto the carpet, out of where the man's neck used to be. It did not bother Tim at all because he had red carpet. For once in his life, he was happy his wife had such horrible taste. He hoped that the blood would not change colors after it dried. He glanced over to his wife who was still in the same position as before. Her breasts aroused him greatly. This is the first time Tim saw his wife nude in over 6 months.

Got business to take care of! Tim thought, pushing the idea of copulation out of his head. He grabbed the other corpse and dropped it on top of the sheet as well. He began to pull the bodies toward the stairs. This is going to be tricky. It turned out that dragging two dead bodies down the stairs on a sheet was not very tricky at all. When he finally reached the basement, he looked around the room for something to cover them up with. The only thing he could find was his old tent. He pulled the tent out of the bag and unfolded it. The tent still smelled like campfires and pine trees to Tim, even though it has not been used in years.

"Ok buddies, time to go camping." Tim said to his lifeless new friends, and then stuffed them through the doorway. Tim rolled the tent of dead bodies into the far side of the basement behind the pool table. This should be good for now. Now, to go calm down my wife.

Up the basement stairs he went. He was going to go tell his wife that everything was going to be ok, give her a hug, and make love to her. As he walked out of the kitchen into the front room, Martha emerged from behind the staircase wielding the same steak knife Tim used for protection against the mouse in the basement. She began running at top speed towards Tim with a look of hatred in her eyes. She plunged the knife into Tim's right shoulder. She tried to pull it out, but it was stuck.

The pain wasn't as bad as Tim thought it would be. He had worse feeling paper cuts. He grabbed the closest thing he could find which happened to be the coffee pot. The coffee pot shattered as it smashed against Martha's face. A glass shard stuck out of one of her eyes. Confused, Martha started swinging her arms around wildly. Her fist struck a brick wall. She grabbed her hand and pressed it against her stomach and started screaming, "Fuck you, you fucking pigfucker! You're going to pay for that!"

To Tim, Martha looked like Satan as she wildly flung around. He grabbed her by her hair and pulled her into the basement. Still naked, the concrete on the basement floor was scraping the skin off Martha's hip as she was dragged violently across the cold rough cement. Tim grabbed the duct tape off his tool bench and taped her mouth shut, stopping the accursed screaming.

"Now that you finally shut the fuck up for once, maybe you will listen to what I have to say," said Tim. "I'm sick of your constant bitching. I work my ass off 72 hours a week at the pet store so you can shop with my money, and this is the thanks I get? I want you to sit down here and think about what you've done next to your dead porn star buddies."

Tim then realized the knife was still stuck in his shoulder. The adrenaline rush was hiding the pain. He yanked the knife out the first try and dropped it to the ground. The sound of the knife striking the concrete echoed throughout the basement. He grabbed a ball of twine, a razor blade, and a roll of duck tape. He walked over to Martha and violently grabbed her by her hair. It appeared as if she was in a trance again. This made Tim's job much easier.

The twine was long enough to wrap around her and the chair several dozen times. "Didn't need the razor after all," Tim thought. "Better wrap her up in duct tape too. She might be able to wiggle out of this." He then began wrapping her body in duck tape. She started to whimper so he wrapped it around her head so only her nose was revealed.

"There is no way your getting out of this," he said. "If you would have played nice, we could have made sweet love until the sunset. Now you're stuck down here tied to a chair. Maybe you'll use your head next time instead of stabbing me."

Martha did not move or attempt to struggle. She sat there looking like a mannequin in a kinky bondage store. Just before Tim was about to go, he saw the dictionary on the floor with the dead mouse guts peeking out of the bottom. Lazy bitch can't even clean up her own mess," Tim thought with disgust. In the bathroom, he wrapped his shoulder in an ace bandage, which slowed down the bleeding drastically.

"Now, where did I put that shop vac at?" Tim asked himself as he searched his garage. "I know it has to be in here somewhere." His garage was a mess. He hadn't been able to park his car in it for quite some time. It was full of old tires, beer bottles, pornography, sofas, lawn mowers that didn't work, motorcycles with no engines, and just about everything that Martha didn't want in the house, which included his hot wheels collection. Tim didn't know why Martha hated his hot wheels collection. She always told him that the cars were for little kids and he needed to grow up. Tim just liked to imagine he was driving the little cars because he was sick of his Tempo. It didn't matter what Martha thought anymore though. "There are going to be some changes in this family after today!" Tim said out loud, not even realizing he was speaking his thoughts out into existence.

Tim spotted the shop vac behind the silver broken down lawn mower. It didn't look too hard to get to. He grabbed the vacuum with his right hand, which was a huge mistake. Pain shot through his arm, shoulder and neck. He dropped the shop vac and clutched his shoulder with his good arm. "I'm going to have to take it easy." He thought to himself. "I'm going to have to go see a doctor after I clean up the mess." After the pain subsided a bit, he grabbed the vacuum with his good arm and brought it into the house. It only took a few minutes to clean the mess of bloody skin and glass up.

The piranha's water was still red. Tim could not even see his fish through the cloud of blood cells. The blood on the carpet was turning brown as it dried. He was hoping this wouldn't happen; more cleaning was the last thing he wanted to do today. The only thing on Tim's mind was drinking some beer. He couldn't remember if there were any left in the freezer. He hoped there was because he didn't want to go to a store in his current condition. But if that's what it took, that's what was going to happen.

Luckily there were three beers left in the freezer. He sat down at the kitchen table and took a drink. The rain appeared as a soft mist, covering the neighborhood. He took another drink and started reading the newspaper. Great, rain all day. At least it's not snow like last night. He flipped through the paper for a while, drinking his beer, but could not seem to focus on any of the articles. Thoughts of his wife's tender ass slamming repeatedly into the cable guy ran through Tim's head. He saw the television busting through the man's head over and over in slow motion.

Tim realized he was tired. Not only physically exhausted, but mentally as well. He decided to take a nap. He went into his bedroom and thought otherwise. There was no way he was going to lie on the same bed his wife just had an orgy on. He walked downstairs and relaxed on the couch.

In his dreams, he saw nothing. He was floating in a lightless room with no walls, ceiling or floor. The blackness went on forever and he was very cold. He woke up and realized it was dark outside already. He looked at his watch and noticed it was already 10 pm. He didn't know how he had slept six hours. He was shocked he had slept so long when his intention was to only take a nap.

Tim walked over to the freezer to grab another beer. Great they exploded. Now I'm going to have to take a trip to the store. He took the shattered remains of the beer bottles out of the freezer and set them on the oak table, somehow managing not to cut himself. He then went upstairs, stripped off his bloodstained clothing, and put on fresh outfit.

As he stepped outside, he noticed icicles hanging from his gutters. "Damn its cold!" he thought. The ground was icy from the rainfall during the day. He almost slipped as he came out from under his banister, but grabbed hold of his mailbox just in time. As he was carefully walking to his car he noticed the Simcast Cable van still parked in his driveway. "Oh shit!" he said out loud. He hoped no one had noticed it parked there. He would clean out the garage after he got beer, and hide the van in there.

He drove slowly because the rain had turned into a sheet of ice. Tim was glad he had bought a manual transmission for his Tempo. He hated driving automatics when it was icy. He picked up a case of beer, and some beef jerky to munch on. The drive home was quiet and relaxing. When he got home he opened a beer, took a drink, and put the rest into the freezer. He then began to clean the garage.

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