by Brian Varney
I know you won’t believe me, but I’ve gotta tell someone about this… I was playing the new Electric Wizard CD, Dopethrone, in the car on the way to work today. Traffic was particularly bad this morning, so I took a back route through a neighborhood I didn’t really know. It turned out to not be such a wise move, since traffic along this route was bumper to bumper as well. As I pulled up to a red light, the little yellow bus stopped next to me started to talk. It said, “Please step away from the little yellow bus” (actually, I’m not sure of its exact words because the music was really loud). A bit confused, I rewound the CD a few seconds, reasoning that perhaps the voice had come from the CD. I didn’t hear it this time.
I turned and looked into the bus and all of the little kids were looking at me with zombie eyes, clawing the windows and baring their teeth like feral animals. The man driving the bus did the same. I don’t know how long I sat staring at the kids, but it felt like a couple of hours. “I, The Witchfinder” started and I panicked. I hit the gas and suddenly all of the other cars disappeared. I felt my car’s tires screech and I saw the scenery fly past, but all of the other cars were gone. Getting more confused by the second, I hit the brakes and felt the car spin out of control. I could barely hear the music. I heard the faint sound of car horns, but I didn’t know where they were coming from.
I heard a dull thud and my windshield shattered. Silence. I felt another thud. My windshield bounced and shattered a bit more. I looked out the windshield and it was still the same deserted intersection. Thud. More shattering.
My door handle had disappeared, so I rolled the window down. My car was diagonally blocking the intersection and the bus was stopped about 15 feet away, throwing kids at my car. Another one flew at my windshield. He bounced off the windshield and landed in the road. He lay listless for about five seconds, shook his head, and walked back to the bus. The cars had reappeared, but now they were being driven by little kids who were clawing the windows and baring their teeth at me.
I grabbed the wheel and hit the gas, but my car was done. The CD was still playing, but I still couldn’t hear it very well. I had an urge to turn it off, but every time I reached for it, it sank further into the dash. My head hit the steering wheel.
I woke up and couldn’t move. Leather straps bound me to a bed. There were a lot of people walking around in white outfits, but they all looked like the kids from the bus. I didn’t say anything to them.
Four months have passed since then, and I’m still here. Needless to say, I haven’t had much time to listen to Dopethrone. There’s no CD player in here and I’m afraid to talk to the people I see walking around. It’s been months since I heard Dopethrone and even then, not all the way through, but I have the strange feeling it’s responsible for my being here.
(PO Box 629 Port Washington, NY 11050)