From a stranger in Nashville, Tennessee
in the back of everyone’s mind is a deap-seated association with something that unfailingly serves as an impetus for instant fear. Upon examination, the sparks that ignite our individually fearful fires are as varied as the people that make up our world. Everyone’s secret fear is different. For some the catalyst for terror may simply be darkness and the vulnerability it brings, for others it might be the thought or sight of blood and gore. Still others are scared by notions of demon sorcery and witchcraft. Some fear ghosts and spirits while others are terrified by thoughts of monsters and mutants or human fiends such as demented madmen and axe murderers.
For some of us, our greatest fears are more rooted in “reality.” We are afraid of snakes or spiders, things that creep on the ground or live under slimy stones or dry sandy caves. Still, for many of us, our greatest fear lies in the dread of losing a loved one or being alone. Regardless of what it is or where it comes from, we all live with fear.
Personally, I have always been frightened by the molestation or twisting of innocence. The thought of taking something pure and innocent and perverting it into something demonic or evil has always brought a chill to my bones and caused the hair of my neck and arms to stand at attention. Examples of what I’m talking about? Well… the clearest examples that I can think of include movies which feature demented or demonic children. Some of these might include The Shining, Pet Cemetery, Poltergeist, and The Omen. To a lesser degree, things such as clowns and examples such as the movie Child’s Play might fall into this category. As I said, there’s just something about that notion of perverted innocence that sets me on edge. I suppose it might have something to do with a deep-seated black and white worldview that I adopted as a child. Good things were good, and bad things were bad, and anything that blurred these lines or challenged this paradigm was frightening.
Anyway, I believe all this is closely related to why merely glancing at this picture causes my blood pressure to rise, my face to grow wan and pale, and my palms to sweat. The picture in and of itself is innocent enough. It is cartoonish and amusing, but there’s also a crazed look in those offset mismatched eyes. Why can’t I see the rest of the face? What is it that lies just below the frame? A mouth snarling with jagged rows of teeth, dripping blood and human entrails?
And then, to top it off, there’s that creepy and twisted message. Eat my toes? Why?! Why don’t you just devour me whole while I sleep? I can’t handle it! My mind is unwittingly drawn to the image of waking in the middle of the night to discover that something is wrong, something is…. missing. As I peer down towards the end of the bed, the first thing that I notice is a clump of bloody sheets. Then a horrible sight greets my eyes: there they are, the bloody stumps of my feet. All my toes have been removed. Then as my body descends into shock and I begin to lose consciousness, my eye fall upon the crowning pinnacle of terror: just barely poking its head above the surface of the mattress is the face of this demonically twisted yet comically wolf-like creature. The only sounds are the smacking of this jaws and the crunching of the bones of my toes between his teeth.
Someone, please…. make it go away.