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The Man in the Red Zoot Suit – Part 3: Reproach Oneself

Jake’s song of the day: Teenage Riot – SONIC YOUTH

Jake’s Movie Clip of the day: Benchwarmers (2006)

Bryton woke up almost immediately on hard-wood floor, after he had been knocked unconscious from collapsing on a brass doorknob. He felt cursed to be alive, after witnessing the most horrific sight of his life. He felt like he would rather die, than to see that horrific, demonic face once again. What he witnessed was pure evil, an evil that he had never seen before. After all the years of stealing from people and hurting people, Bryton felt as though he was finally getting what he, and his group of thieves, finally deserved. He woke up on a rug, next to a massive wooden kitchen table, which shined faintly from the dimmed lighting of the house. It was far too quiet and the woman in the white night gown was nowhere to be seen. Not only was this woman unseen, but so were Ret, Laura, and the two dismembered heads of Zap and Noodle. Realizing where he was, Bryton searched his pockets for his pistol, which he always had since the first time he left his home. His gun was gone; someone had taken it when he was unconscious. His heart rate began to increase.

Bryton began to suffer his raging headache, once he had woken up and thus realizing that he was moved back to the kitchen, from the his only means of escape at the front door. Bryton slowly got up quietly, being aware of his surroundings. He stood over the large, wooden, kitchen table, which happened to have a massive silver platter sitting in the middle, surrounded by assorted plates and silverware. Bryton didn’t even want to know what was in that platter, he just wanted to get the hell out of the Cranston house. He was aware of the fact that it was quiet and he was going to use the silence to his advantage to finally escape. Bryton thought it would be appropriate to escape out of the back door, the one where Laura invaded the house. He had never felt so scared in his life. His palms were soaked in sweat, as were his forehead, and the rest of his body. He proceeded to leave the kitchen, until…

“Where are you going in such a hurry?” came a wretched voice from behind. Bryton decided to ignore the voice, which had the tone of a sadistic man, and continued to walk. He hastily walked through the halls of the house, continuously harassed by the same voice. “Get back here, now! You insignificant, putrid animal! You’re going to miss the main course! Hahahaha!”

The horrible laughing taunted Bryton, as he made his way through the house. There was no sight of Ret or Laura, which caused him to jump to the conclusion of the two being dead. Then, during the endless taunting from the disturbing voice, Bryton found the back door, which happened to be a massive antique. Bryton prayed in his thoughts that the door would be accessible to his escape, after he had noticed that every other window on the first story was completely barred, similar to a prison. The frightened man reached for the old brass doorknob, twisted, and gasped with relief. The door was unlocked and Bryton wasn’t hesitant to open the door immediately and run into… the kitchen? Once he stepped back into the kitchen, somehow, Bryton nearly had a heart-attack when he saw a whole family sitting at the kitchen table, staring at him. The man in the red zoot suit and his family sat under the dimly-lit chandelier, which hung over the table. Bryton noticed that the woman in the white night gown was sitting next time, also, although she had her normal face. Her normal face, before she revealed her demonic one, wore a terrifying grin. Two younger girls sat on either side of the kitchen table, looking up at Bryton, with the same god-awful grins spread across their faces. The man in the red zoot suit, however, showed an uptight expression revealing his anger towards Bryton. What did Bryton ever do to deserve this?!

“Sit down,” the man ordered, motioning to an empty seat across from him and his scary-ass wife.

“I…” Bryton stuttered, then was immediately interrupted by the man’s booming voice, along with his eye turning completely black.

“SIT THE HELL DOWN, BOY! YOU ARE OUR GUEST! Isn’t that right, family?!”

The family of unnatural beings looked up at Bryton, who was simply petrified with fear. The entire family laughed demonically, causing Bryton to run off once again. He had to get out of here!


Voices of the family rang throughout the halls of the house, as Bryton ran for his life, all bellowing, “BOAR! BOAR! BOAR! BOAR! BOAR!”

Bryton could feel the warm, wet sensation of his own urine trailing down his legs and endless amount of tears rolling down his cheeks. He ran through a very long corridor, the same one he took to get to the back door of the mansion. As he ran through the corridors, it was suddenly silent. Bryton continued to run for his life, towards the back door at the very end, only worrying about himself.  He got to the door and opened it, expecting to see the night sky and a fence that he could hop over to get to Ret’s vehicle. Unfortunately, he ended up somewhere different. It was cold and pitch black and Bryton couldn’t understand what was happening. This had to be the back door right? However, he was ready to act in self-defense against what could be a potential threat. Bryton couldn’t see a thing, but he had a feeling that the back door could be in here. Was there another door that led me to the backyard? If so, was it always this dark before? Maybe those sick, sick demons turned out the lights to scare me. This isn’t real. I am getting out of this hell-hole.

Thinking that the pitch-dark room was much safer than the kitchen full of crazies, Bryton took out his flashlight, which was still in his coat pocket, and shined it in the dark room. He still could barely see a thing, due to the dense amount of dust lingering in the air. He could smell something rotting, something dead and unwelcoming. Bryton’s heart froze when he heard a disturbing sound of what sounded like flesh being torn. The tearing of flesh got louder, causing Bryton to shine his flashlight everywhere, desperately trying to spot any door that would get him out of this room. This room was certainly not here, before. The sound of tearing flesh grew louder, followed by Bryton actually flashing his light upon the source.

As far as Bryton has experienced with gruesome murders, such as the decapitations of Zap and Noodle, he honestly had no idea how to react once he had seen what was making a most horrid noise. A beastly dog, a regular husky, which resembled too much of a wolf, was devouring a human corpse. It wasn’t just a human corpse, but it was the corpse of Laura. As the dog slurped up and chewed on her innards, it slowly looked up at him. It stared at him, while Bryton stood there shaking, completely out of thoughts due to the immense fear.

The dog smiled, with blood and flesh falling from his mouth. “Excuse me, I am a messy eater. Not as messy as you are, however. Well, at least that’s what he, the Man in the Red Zoot Suit, wants. Anyway, have you ever had the gratifying taste of arteries, sliding down your throat? Oh my, it is wonderful. This woman, whom of which I have gorged myself upon, is your friend? Tsk, pity, as if her life had some meaning to it. She only spent her life robbing homes, murdering people, and snorting every ounce of cocaine in existence (Alas, I am just exaggerating). This all wouldn’t have happened if any of you thieves were up to this. Well then, I do believe it is your turn to die, being the ‘sole survivor of the Cranston house,’ that is. Now, I’m going to open wide and you will focus only on the pain that will be delivered unto you, as I crush every single pitiful bone in your body, with my sharp teeth.”

The vicious dog growled with determination, causing Bryton to start running, and started chasing after.  Bryton was running in complete darkness. It was far too dark for his own flashlight to lead the way. The disturbing sound of barking and growling rang in Bryton’s ears, as if the vicious talking dog had carried a microphone with him. This is it. I’m going to die, here. I’m going to die in nothing but blackness. I’m going to be eaten alive. Mom. Mom! I want my Mom! I’m sorry! I’m sorry for everything. All the people I’ve hurt, all the people I’ve killed! Please, God, please help me! The flesh-eating dog jumped on Bryton and took a bite out of his shoulder, blood oozing and ejecting. Bryton screamed in pain, almost crying. Please, God no! Not like this! AGGGHH!!  He screamed as loud as he possibly could, until he found that he was no longer in eternal blackness. Instead, he was sitting at the kitchen table with the Man in the Red Zoot Suit, his two daughters, and his wife. They all stared at him, with expressions of anger. It was silent in the house and Bryton couldn’t say a word, let alone scream. He shook in fear, as he clutched his shoulder, where blood was oozing everywhere. Bryton also noticed that the large, covered silver platter was still displayed on the table. The Man in the Red Zoot Suit, his face full of disgust, took out a bottle of bourbon and poured himself a glass. He downed the entire beverage, looking at Bryton.

“Sweetie,” the Man’s wife said softly, “He’s getting blood all over the floor.”

He immediately silenced her, by putting his middle finger on his lips. “Then have Sparky take care of it! Damn dog.” The Man in the Red Zoot Suit poured himself another glass, drank it all and started chugging the entire bottle of bourbon. He stopped and offered some to Bryton. He stared at him, shaking in fear, pain, and trauma. “Of course you don’t want any bourbon. You’re being a big cry baby. It’s not my fault that you can’t accept your fate! There was Jasper Frederick Houte, or what you group of pathetic morsels call, Zap. Wanted for several counts of rape, three first degree murders, and many counts of breaking and entering. Then there was Kimberly Oliver Prant, or The Noodle, who was held accountable for countless amounts of fraud and the killings of several homeless people. Then, there was your Laura Tiana Fillmore, killed her ex-husband, after he committed adultery and robbing houses. Then, Retterick Ethan Erickson, known for the most notorious bank robber in the southwest. Then, there’s you Bryton Matthew Pear, the one I HATE THE MOST!” The Man in the Red Zoot Suit screamed angrily and threw the bottle of bourbon against the wall, shattering it into pieces. Bryton hadn’t noticed it before, but the rest of the family had vanished. It was now just him and the Man.

“DO YOU KNOW WHY I HATE YOU SO DAMN MUCH?!” the Man in the Red Zoot Suit yelled. Bryton started crying, once more. He just wanted to die already. The Man calmed down a bit. “’Cause you had to be a pussy and realize of how horrid your soul was. It would’ve been nice to have a soul, like yours. All rotten and useless. Then you had to go and FIX IT! You and your ‘Oh God, help me please’ nonsense. Urg!”

The Man in the Red Zoot Suit pounded his fist onto the table and literally pulled his hair out. It was quiet, once again. Bryton was sure he was going to die, whether he tried to escape, once more, or not. He began to get dizzy, due to his loss of blood from the severe dog bite. He finally spoke, for the first time since he last talked to Ret. He had no idea where he was, but he assumed that he was dead (Well then, I do believe it is your turn to die, being the ‘sole survivor of the Cranston house,’ that is.)

“W…what do you want?”

The Man laughed and replied with a sassy attitude and took the lid off the silver platter. There revealed Rett’s decapitated head. Bryton didn’t react to it, for he had seen too much. The Man laughed manically as he took Rett’s head and drop-kicked it across the room, slamming against the wall, leaving a big spatter of blood. “Did you not just listen to me yell at you, you insignificant cow?! I don’t want shit! I’m done. Leave. I want you to leave, please. Unless you kill someone, rape someone, or steal a pack of gum. LEAVE MY HOUSE NOW!” The Man crushed the kitchen table with is fist, lifted Bryton from the seat, by his collar, took him out the front door and threw Bryton out onto the front lawn. He coughed in pain, after he hit the ground. The Man in the Red Zoot Suit stood there at the front entrance and snapped his fingers. The Grand Cranston house immediately caught fire, illuminating the entire area between Bryton and Rett’s van, which was still parked at the curb. The flames engulfed the Man in a casual manner and he was gone, only leaving Bryton with a massive house on fire. Bryton weakly got up on his feet, made his way to the red van, and drove far away from the sight.

Old man Bryton sat in his chair, staring at the window, with nurse Heather sitting next to him.

“My,” Heather said, “you have quite an imagination, Mr. Pear.”

“Thought you would say that,” Bryton replied, with an unsatisfied chuckle. “After I left the Cranston house I turned myself in, for everything I did before I decided to walk into that house of Hell. Thank you, nurse, I think it was time for me to tell my story. At least before I… moved on.”

Heather laughed. “Oh, Pear, you will be here for another long while. You’re the healthiest out of all our residents, here. I doubt you will be gone anytime soon. Who am I going to share stories with when that happens, then?” She turned around and looked at Bryton’s alarm clock. “Oh, wow, it’s past your bedtime, Bryton. Want me to help you into bed?”

Bryton sighed deeply. “No thanks, nurse, I can handle it. May I sit here and watch the window for a few more minutes?”

Heather sighed, taking another glance at the clock. “I suppose another five minutes won’t hurt. Thank you for the story, Mr. Pear, it was quite interesting. Five minutes. I’ll be checking up on you.”

Nurse Heather left Bryton’s room and quietly shut his door. The old man rolled up his sleeve to his shoulder, revealing a disturbing scar. Every time he would see it, he would shiver and yet he thought of it as a symbol. A symbol of survival, a symbol of repent. Within the next morning, Bryton was announced dead, due to uncertain circumstances. Old age seemed to be the only explanation. After Bryton had left the Grand Cranston house, the events that occurred in that house forever changed his life. Who knows what Bryton has entered into this time? However, he knew that this “new door” would not lead him into a room of blackness. 


By Jacob Arasim








About Jake Arasim (0 Articles)
Hey, dudes! My name is Jacob Arasim and, well, I love telling fiction, for the most part! I've been writing and illustrating my own stories/books ever since I was 5 and I never plan to stop! I love to write about comedy, sci-fi, horror, adventure, and sometimes "icky-romantics." I am majoring in English, with a Creative Writing emphasis, along with a Theatre Arts minor. I am 19 years-old, I like to be a goof, I love meeting new people, eating macaroni 'n' cheese, and just having a good time. I also enjoy lovely music bands such as the Pixies, Jack White, Sonic Youth, Belle & Sebastian, Nirvana, White Stripes, The Cure, Rage Against the Machine, The Jesus and Mary Chain, the list goes on! I also enjoy watching the Evil Dead and Harry Potter Movies, reading books, listening to records, going on runs, and just being a cool cat. Speaking of cats, I really LOVE CATS! That is all, enjoy my blog, and I appreciate you reading. Stay awesome!

1 Comment on The Man in the Red Zoot Suit – Part 3: Reproach Oneself

  1. Great read Jake! All 3 parts are great. Would've loved to see more art, but I know you're busy 😉

    "Bryton didn’t even want to know what was in that platter, he just wanted to get the hell out of the Cranston house."


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