Tales of a Madman: A Collection of Twisted Short Stories

By Brandon Freeman

From werewolves, to vampires, zombies, drug lords, aliens, and much more, Tales of a Madman presents a collection of twenty-six short stories filled with horror and violence.

Showcasing the crazy minds and madmen of the world, author Brandon Freeman delivers a terror-filled read. Horror Movie Mania shares a story about the crazy things that happen when the narrator watches an unmarked DVD movie he receives in the mail. Revenge on the Bullies tells a gruesome tale about how the author exacts vengeance on the seven guys in high school who bullied him for years. And A New Kind of Zombie Apocalypse tells how Cordelias lives life as the best zombie killer in the world.

Tales of a Madman offers a terror-filled look at the dark side.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jan 15, 2018
• ISBN: 9781532038303

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

The Dreamaster

I am what you call a Dreamaster. I have full control of my dreams so I can do whatever I want. This ranges from having superpowers to more perverted things that I’m not going to mention. I’m going to tell you how, one day, everything changed in the real world because of my dreams. It’s going to be a strange ride. But anyway, let’s get into it, shall we?

My alarm went off just as my dream was ending. It was a fantastic dream with beautiful women everywhere, and I was, let’s just say, getting to know them. I got out of bed, and as I went downstairs, I was greeted by my mother.

How did you sleep, dear? Did you have nice dreams? she asked.

Of course, Mom. I always do, I replied.

My mother doesn’t know the kind of dreams I have, and I think it’s best if it stays like that.

Would you like some breakfast? she asked.

Sure, I could go for some breakfast, I replied.

Would you like some pancakes? she asked.

Yes, I’d love some pancakes, I replied.

My mother makes the best pancakes in the world. She doesn’t use that box mix crap you buy in the store. She makes them completely from scratch.

After I ate my pancakes, I got ready for school, and I was out the door. It takes me less than two minutes to get ready for school, or anything for that matter. I don’t see how it takes people over a half an hour to get ready.

As I got to school, I was greeted by my friends. We talked for a couple minutes before we went to class. We all had different classes, and they were all pretty far apart from each other because we went to a very large school. There were easily over three thousand students. It was a huge school.

My first period was study hall, which is pretty much a class that you can take a nap in. It’s nice that it’s my first period, in case I’m ever still tired because I didn’t get enough sleep the night before. Today I wasn’t particularly tired, but since I had all my work already finished from my other classes, I figured, Why not just take a nap? So that’s exactly what I did.

As I was napping, I had a dream that I was in my study hall class. I definitely knew it was a dream, though, because my teacher was naked. My teacher is a young, blond woman with very large breasts, and every guy in the class has a crush on her. But really, how couldn’t you? She’s fucking hot.

All right, students, it’s time for us to learn about sex ed, and the best way to do that is to have sex. I’ll be the one you have sex with. So are there any volunteers? she asked.

I looked around the room and noticed that I was the only student in class, so I raised my hand.

I’ll be the first one, I said.

Perfect. I was hoping it would be you, considering you are my favorite student. Plus I have the biggest crush on you, she said with a lovely smile.

So, I got naked, and we had sex. It felt real, like I was actually having sex with my teacher. I have had dreams that I had sex, but they didn’t actually feel real. I could actually feel my penis inside her pussy, and it was fucking fantastic. I had my orgasm, and it actually felt like a real orgasm. It was like I actually just had sex with my teacher, and it was amazing.

Then I woke up because the bell rang. I grabbed my backpack and headed for the door as my teacher asked me to see her for a second before I left. So, I did.

After all my classmates had left my teacher whispered in my ear. That was the best sex I’ve ever had. Now run along. You don’t want to be late for your next class, she said.

I was in shock. Why would my teacher say that? Was it actually not a dream? Was that why it felt so real? I had no idea what had happened, but either way, it was awesome.

I didn’t tell my friends what my teacher had said to me because there was no chance in hell that they would ever believe me. I could hardly believe it myself.

My friends and I went to my house after school and played some video games like we usually do. We were lucky enough to all have teachers who never gave homework; we just had to do the work at school, and that was pretty much it. It was awesome.

We decided to play our favorite game. It was a split screen shooter, where we all teamed up and took on hordes of zombies. We had beaten the game so many times that we had unlocked infinite ammo and infinite health for every character. We’d also unlocked every single gun in the game, which made us love it even more. We would bet to see who could kill the most zombies in a certain amount of time. I usually won because I knew where the secret level was that had a larger horde of zombies. It was also a level with an infinite ammo rocket launcher. I would get hundreds of kills in a just a minute or two. You may think that’s cheating, I, however, think its strategy.

Once my friends went home and after I had eaten dinner, I was tired, so I went to bed early. I still couldn’t get what my teacher said out of my head. I started to think that I must have just heard her wrong. But what else could she have said that sounded like what I heard?

Oh well, I told myself. I simply had to have heard her wrong, because there is no way in hell that she actually said what I heard.

I then laughed, got comfortable, and drifted off to sleep. Maybe I’d have another dream like that; it was an absolutely amazing dream.

Later on, I woke up in the middle of the night to what sounded like a window breaking downstairs. I grabbed a weapon, which happened to be a baseball bat. I know it’s a terrible weapon, especially if there was a burglar downstairs—a burglar who more than likely would have a gun. A baseball bat will never beat a gun.

I got to the top of the stairs and peaked down. I didn’t see anything. But for some reason, I went downstairs anyway, which is a recipe for complete disaster. I looked around, and again I didn’t see anything—until I saw a broken window in my living room. I started to panic. Now I knew that coming downstairs had been a bad move. I backed up and was starting to walk upstairs when I heard someone walk right up behind me. It was the burglar.

Well I was hoping nobody would be home, because now this just turned into robbery and murder, he said with a sinister laugh.

I started to panic. I thought I was going to die. Sweat started to drip down my face like a waterfall. However, for some reason, I turned my head around and looked directly at him. You can’t kill me. I’m dreaming, I have full control, I said to him with a grin on my face.

I have no idea why I said that because this obviously wasn’t a dream.

The burglar looked at me and was confused beyond belief. Oh yeah. Well, we’ll see about that, he said.

He took his knife and stabbed me right in the back. I could feel it go into my body, but for some reason, it didn’t hurt. I just stood there as if nothing had happened. I turned around and laughed at the burglar. He looked scared. He wore the facial expression of someone who had just angered a demon.

I grabbed him by his neck and threw him across the room. I grabbed his knife and stabbed him repeatedly until he died. I grabbed him, walked outside, and just dropped him in the middle of the street. Then I blinked, and I woke up in my bed. I was so confused. Everything that had happened had felt so real.

The next day, after I got out of the shower, I noticed that I had a scar on my back. It was in the same place I had been stabbed in my dream.

That’s impossible, I muttered. I didn’t have that scar yesterday.

I ran downstairs and saw that there was a police car and an ambulance in front of my house. I went outside to see what had happened, and I found my mom was out there as well.

What happened? I asked her.

A man was stabbed to death and left right in the middle of the street, she replied.

I was stunned. Could it be the same man? There’s no way. That’s impossible. It was just a dream. I was able to see the man’s face when they loaded him into the ambulance. It was the same man who I’d met in my dream. I felt weak. If that was the man I thought I had dreamed of, maybe it wasn’t a dream. Maybe I had really killed him.

I turned and looked at the living room window that had been broken in my dream, and it wasn’t broken. There wasn’t even a scratch on it. I had no idea what to think. I was so confused that I just went inside and tried to continue my morning as usual, even though I was completely frazzled beyond belief.

I didn’t know if I should tell anyone what had happened; I was pretty sure that, if I did, whoever I told would probably think I was crazy. Is it possible that my dreams are becoming reality? I asked myself. No, that’s crazy. Dreams can’t become real. They’re just part of people minds. I calmed myself down and continued my morning as usual.

When I got to school, my friends asked me what had happened.

What happened last night? Did you hear anything? one of my friends asked.

No, I didn’t hear anything, I replied. This was the truth. I really didn’t.

Just weird. A guy was killed right outside your house. Doesn’t that scare you in anyway? he asked.

A little bit, I replied. The truth was, I was more scared for a different reason.

Oh, don’t lie. I bet you damn near pissed yourself when you found out someone died right in front of your house, my friend said to me.

Fuck you. I wouldn’t piss myself if someone had a gun to my face, I replied, even though I probably would.

Oh, okay whatever, my friend said, laughing.

We have to get to class. See you at lunch, bro, my other friend said.

See you at lunch, I replied, turning to walk to my class.

Later on that day, I was called to the office. I wasn’t sure why I was being summoned, but of course I went. When I got to the office, I saw a police officer, and then I knew why I was there.

Hello, Cordelias, the officer said, greeting me nicely. Do you know why I’m here? he asked.

Yes, I believe so, I replied. It’s because of the man that was killed in front of my house.

That’s exactly the reason, young man, the officer said. He smiled at me. I just have some questions to ask you about it if you don’t mind.

Sure, anything to get me out of class, I said with a little laugh to mask my fear.

That’s the spirit. I never finished school, and look at me now. I’m a police officer. But it’s not that easy for everyone, so just stay in school, he added.

Well, what are your questions, officer? I asked. I was going to be as helpful as possible, not to mention as innocent as possible. After all, as far as I knew, I was.

Did you hear anything out of the ordinary last night, like maybe screaming or arguing—anything that could turn into something violent? the officer asked.

No. Nothing, officer. I live in a nice neighborhood, and something like that would definitely be out of the ordinary. If it did happen, I wouldn’t be the only one who would have heard it. My whole neighborhood would have heard it. One of us would have definitely called the police, because that just doesn’t happen around my neighborhood, I explained.

Yes, it is a very nice neighborhood. That’s why the incident last night is so out of the ordinary, he said. Well, if you say you didn’t hear anything, I believe you. Why would you have a reason to lie? Do you have a reason to lie? he asked, giving me a disturbing glare.

No, I don’t have a reason to lie to you. I want to know what happened just as much as you do, I replied.

All right, then. Have a nice day, the officer said, his mood changing drastically to joyful.

You too, officer, I said as I left the office.

That was strange. The officer almost seemed sure that I had something to do with that man’s death. But I didn’t. Or did I? I just don’t know any more. However, I definitely can’t tell anyone because they will think I’m fucking crazy; I’m starting to think I’m fucking crazy.

Later on that day after school and after my friends and I had had our daily video game session at my house, I went to bed early. However, I was scared to fall asleep. I was scared of what I would dream. Would it be something that would be so real again that it would come true? I didn’t know, and I had no idea of knowing either.

However, I was tired and eventually I fell asleep. I started to have a dream that a house belonging to former friend was on fire and that I was the one who’d started the fire. I could hear screaming coming from the house and, I just stood there and watched it burn. It was a beautiful sight, watching his house burn and knowing that he was inside burning alive.

You may be wondering why he was one of my former friends. Well, the reason is very simple. He stole my girlfriend. I loved my girlfriend, so much that I was going to marry her when we graduated high school. I thought she loved me too, but she left me for my ex-friend, and I know it was his fault. He always liked her, and it was always obvious—so much so that I didn’t want them to be close to each other. He always tried to grab her ass and her boobs. He would always say it was an accident, which we both knew was a fucking lie. But for some reason, she left me for him.

I realized as I was watching the house burn that my ex-girlfriend was in the house as well. I don’t know why or maybe I do, but that just made it that much better. It was like killing two birds with one stone. It was glorious.

I woke up the next morning because I smelled smoke. I jumped out of bed and ran downstairs but everything was normal. I then looked at my reflection in the mirror in my living room, and I noticed that my face was covered with ash, as is I had just been in a burning building. I quickly ran to the sink to wash it off.

After I did I had an unsettling thought. Oh my god, did it happen again? Had what I dreamed actually come true? No way, I thought. The other two were complete coincidences. That was all it was. At least that’s what I hoped.

When I got to school, my friends came up to me and greeted me but not like usual. They looked very concerned.

What’s wrong, guys? I asked.

David’s house burned down last night. His whole family died. Your ex-girlfriend was over there, and she died too, my friend explained to me.

I was shocked. I couldn’t believe what I had just heard. My fucking dream had come true again. I didn’t fucking believe it. Damn that sucks, I said, trying to sound shocked and concerned.

It sure does, one of my friends replied.

How did it happen? I asked.

They’re not sure yet, my friend said.

They’re thinking that it was arson, my other friend added.

Oh shit, my friend said, looking at me. That could make you a suspect because we all know how much you and David hated each other, especially after he took Ashley from you. Plus the fact that Ashley was in the house too just seems too perfect, he continued.

Fuck you, I yelled. You honestly think that I would kill David and Ashley. What do you think I am? A psychopath.

No, my friend said, I’m just fucking with you. But the police might not see it that way, he added.

Whatever. I got to get to class. See you guys later, I said as I walked away.

When I was in class, I couldn’t even concentrate because of what my friend had said. The main problem was it was true. I was a suspect. I really hoped the police didn’t know that, because that would fucking suck.

Later on in the day, when I was in my fourth period class, we were watching an incredibly boring documentary about, honestly, I don’t even know what it was about; it was that fucking boring. I had already taken enough notes to pass, so I decided that I would take a nap; I was tired.

Once I was asleep, I started to have a dream that I was in class. Like most of my dreams lately, it seemed real, because the same fucking, boring ass documentary was still on. I know I’m swearing a lot, but deal with it. It’s my story. Oh, look I broke the fourth wall. Anyway, back to it. I got out of my chair and was walking to the door to go outside when I noticed that there was blood on the ground.

What the fuck? I said, completely confused. Is that blood? I asked myself.

It was a trail of blood that led to the boy’s bathroom. For some stupid reason, I decided to investigate even though I wasn’t going to like what I would find. I had seen enough horror movies to know that this wasn’t going to end well. When I got to the bathroom, there was a boy in there who was obvious dead because, well, he didn’t have his head. And that usually would mean that you’re dead. For some reason, I didn’t go for help. I wanted to know where the fuck his head was. I went into the stall and saw it floating in the toilet. I jumped back because I knew who it was. It was ex-girlfriend’s brother. He had never liked me; he thought I wasn’t good enough for his sister. But somehow, he accepted David, and that pissed me off. He knew about that.

Holy shit! I screamed. Now I knew for sure this was a dream. As soon as I said that, I woke up in class sweating.

Cordelias, are you okay? my teacher asked.

Yes, I replied. Can I use the restroom please? I asked.

Sure, my teacher replied. Just make it quick. I don’t want you missing too much of the documentary.

I wouldn’t want to either, I replied. But I really have to go.

Fine, she said as she wrote me a hall pass.

I grabbed it, said thank you, and was off.

Once again, the floor was covered in blood, and it led to the bathroom.

Oh, fuck me. Please not again. I can’t take this shit, I said to myself.

I went into the bathroom, and again I saw the body, and again it had no head. But for some reason, it looked much more graphic than before. That was most likely because this wasn’t a dream.

I went into the bathroom stall—the same that had held the head in my dream. And guess what I found? Yes, you are correct. I found my ex-girlfriend’s brother’s head.

I’m fucking losing my mind. There is absolutely no way that four, count them four, dreams of mine came true, I said to myself, in complete and utter shock.

I did the only reasonable thing I could think of. I ran out of the bathroom and went for help. When I found someone who could help, he just happened to be a police officer—the same police officer who had interviewed me about the dead man in front of my house.

Can I help you with something? he asked

I didn’t know what to say. Should I tell him what was in the bathroom or just continue on as if I had never seen it? However, before I could make up my mind, he got a call on his radio from another police officer on campus, saying he was needed immediately.

I got to go, said the officer.

I know damn well where he’s going, I thought to myself, and I should get out of here quickly.

As soon as I got back to class, the loudspeaker went off in our classroom. It was the principal. He needed me to come to the office.

I guess I’m going to miss more of the documentary, I joked to my teacher as I left the room.

While I was on my way to the office, the police officer stopped me and glared at me.

Where do you think you’re going? he said very aggressively.

I was called to the office by the principal, I explained.

As soon as I said that, the principal came from the bathroom. Cordelias, do you know anything about this? he asked as calmly as he could.

Know anything about what? I replied, trying to act stupid even though I knew exactly what he was talking about. But of course I couldn’t tell him what was going on. It would make me look guilty because I hadn’t said anything about it.

Maybe you should see for yourself, the officer said in an annoyed tone of voice.

Um okay, I said, knowing that it would not be the first time I would witness the gruesome scene I was about to see.

I went into the bathroom and saw him again—my ex-girlfriend’s brother’s headless body. But I wasn’t supposed to know it was him, because, well, he didn’t have a head. It’s not easy to make a visual ID on a headless body.

Look in the stall the police officer demanded.

So, I did. And guess what I found? Well it sure as fuck wasn’t candy or even a giant piece of shit, which I would have also preferred it to be. Instead,