Moments of Madness

By Justin Gwynn

Moments of Madness is a horror fiction novel that is the introductory tale of an epic battle with the Pandora Group. The sins of man that escaped Pandora's Box have material and taken form. They have a goal to free the last trapped sin, Hopelessness. A Detective in Michigan is unwillingly chosen as are the people around him. He will witness atrocities and mayhem that befalls every single victim. Will he lose hope? Will he see whats happening around him? What will happen when he is faced with these moments of madness?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Justin Gwynn
• Release date: Jun 2, 2015
• ISBN: 9780996429405

Justin Gwynn

I was born in Winston-Salem, North Carolina and then raised in Southfield, Michigan. I spent my college years in New Orleans and Baton Rouge, Louisiana. I now resides in Huntsville, Alabama.I am a former army captain who has finished three tours in Iraq. During my time in the service, I have also been in Arizona, Texas, Mississippi, Germany, France, Kuwait, and Hawaii. My various travels have given me a comprehensive view of life.I have absorbed the works of Stephen King, Edgar Allen Poe, and Alfred Hitchcock. My natural ability to communicate my newness to the world of literature gives my work a unique spin. My love of writing is a result of my eagerness to hold unto the fantasy world of my childhood.

Book preview

Moments of Madness

By

Justin A. Gwynn

Copyright

 Moments of Madness

Published by Justin Gwynn

Distributed by Smashwords

Copyright 2010 By Justin Gwynn

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher.

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your enjoyment only, then please return to Smashwords.com or your favorite retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Dedication

I’d like to thank God first and foremost. I could not have written this book without him. I would also like to thank LTC Everett Cardwell, the Psychologist I saw in Iraq. I thank my wife for staying by my side all these years. I want to thank my first editor Blair Kenney for her guidance and motivation. I give thanks to Ashley, who continued to ask me for another story, forcing me not to give up on a dream. Lastly I would like to thank you, the reader, for taking the time to enjoy my book. I hope it bring you as much enjoyment to read as it did me to write

Preface

‘Moments of Madness’ is the apocalyptic tale about the conflict between humanity’s hope and the evils of humankind. A detective in Michigan will witness everything around him perish in despair and must keep his sanity, as the fate of the world will eventually be in his hands

About The Author

I was born in Winston-Salem, North Carolina and then raised in Southfield, Michigan. I spent my college years in New Orleans and Baton Rouge, Louisiana. I now resides in Huntsville, Alabama.

I am a former army captain who has finished three tours in Iraq. During my time in the service, I have also been in Arizona, Texas, Mississippi, Germany, France, Kuwait, and Hawaii. My various travels have given me a comprehensive view of life.

I have absorbed the works of Stephen King, Edgar Allen Poe, and Alfred Hitchcock. My natural ability to communicate my newness to the world of literature gives my work a unique spin. My love of writing is a result of my eagerness to hold unto the fantasy world of my childhood.

Table Of Contents

Copyright

Dedication

Preface

About The Author

CHAPTER ONE: CHUCK

CHAPTER TWO: TED

CHAPTER THREE: CHRIS

CHAPTER FOUR: ASHLEY

CHAPTER FIVE: AMY

CHAPTER SIX: HAROLD

CHAPTER SEVEN: TIM

CHAPTER EIGHT: BEAST

CHAPTER NINE: ALEX

CHAPTER TEN: DANNY

CHAPTER ELEVEN: MARY

CHAPTER TWELVE: JAMES

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: RANDALL FITZGERALD

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: THE PITHOS

CHAPTER ONE: CHUCK

What a day, Chuck thought to himself. Chuck was just an ordinary man. He had worked an ordinary job, at an ordinary office, for the Littleton Accounting Firm. He had a cubicle with no windows, and his boss was the ordinary boss.

The sun had risen over the Detroit area like on any other day. Chuck had driven to work as if it was any other day. However, at the end of the day, Chuck had been informed by Pamela from Human Resources, that he was being let go. Pamela had said his work was just ordinary. Thus, with the layoffs the company needed to make, the decision was easy to let him go.

Chuck had collected all his belongings from his office, including his lucky Alan Trammel rookie-year baseball card. He then walked to his car flabbergasted from information that had just been passed to him. He hadn’t figured out how to tell his wife and kids. Still he faced the drive home from the west side of the metro area to suburban Southfield in the madness of rush-hour traffic.

As Chuck opened the door to his ordinary car, he pondered whether to listen to John Coltrane or Miles Davis on his way home. He needed the music to help keep him calm. He needed time to plan how he would properly inform his wife. He had been fired because he was too ordinary. Chuck wanted the music to keep everything normal for the next two hours.

He sat in his vehicle with his head on the steering wheel. He then looked at his baseball card. That always brought him joy. It was his prized possession. He had owned it since he was a child, and just the memories of everything he had been through and the fact the card had survived helped Chuck. He thought everything would be okay.

As he started the car, while putting on his seatbelt, he realized his music wasn’t on. He looked at his radio and saw someone had taken out the CD. He looked into his glove compartment for his back up CDs. He searched through the papers and didn’t find any.

Chuck thought Jolly had taken them, his teenage boy that loved to be different. Jolly was a rebel against familiarity. He wore his hair long and colored it green. He always wore sandals for shoes and bright green jeans for pants. Since he stood six feet tall at the age of twelve people often called him, The Jolly Green Giant, or Jolly, for short.

Chuck thought Jolly must have been trying hard to make a point to his father, that the normality of their life was against everything Jolly believed. This was typical of Jolly, but Chuck wondered if his son had any clue how badly timed it was. Jolly knew his father would always listen to his Jazz on the way home.

Chuck checked his backseat under the passenger mat where his emergency Etta James was kept, and couldn’t find that either. He looked over at his Alan Trammel card and saw a CD lying under it in a paper case. It had a sticky note attached that simply read, Listen to this! He placed his briefcase on top of the CD.

Chuck felt an emotion he hadn’t known in some time - - anger. He couldn’t believe his son would go so far to ruin his trip home. He imagined choking his son like Homer Simpson would strangle his son Bart on the animated TV show, The Simpsons. Chuck took a deep breath and tried to calm down but where was he supposed to find a calming influence in all this traffic? Especially today, the day he had been terminated for being average.

Luckily, he remembered he had a satellite radio. He could just listen to a jazz station. So he turned on the radio ready to find his favorite station to listen to while driving home, but the radio was silent.

Just how far had his son gone to prove his point? He lifted up the briefcase and pulled the CD out of the case. It was labeled, Change Is Good but it wasn’t in his son’s handwriting. He didn’t recognize the writing. Chuck figured his son’s friend had helped him make CDs. He gave in, and put in the CD.

A stranger’s voice came through his speakers and said, Chuck, I know you are angry. I know you think you need your usual music. I also know you need change.

Chuck looked in the mirror and wondered, who would think of this? Chuck had thought he was entirely happy, and his life had showed it until this afternoon. He had a fantastic job, until today. He still had a lovely wife and some terrific kids. Why would anyone think he was unhappy?

Chuck, you just don’t know you are unhappy, the voice said. I want you to listen to this, because I am going to change your life! I am going to give you what you deserve.

Now, instead of being angry, Chuck sat in his car in a state of bewilderment, wondering, Who was this from Chuck had no clue how he had gotten into his car. Even more disturbing, the recording sounded as if the man thought he knew Chuck. Some mystery person had watched Chuck live his normal life, and told Chuck it wasn’t up to par.

Sure, things weren’t perfect Chuck thought. He had still dreamed of being an entertainer. During high school Chuck once acted and sang in a play and loved the limelight. Chuck had only signed up for the show to get credit for drama in high school, and afterwards he never in his life tried another play.

It was where he met his wife. She told him that she fell in love with his singing during the musical. She always said he had the voice of a rock star. Chuck sometimes sat in his cubicle dreaming of being a rock star, but he had been hugely content with his decisions until today.

As Chuck began to back his vehicle out of the parking spot, he was overwhelmed by the loud thumping from his radio. Public Enemies’ Fight the Power blared over the speakers, and he took his hands away from the wheel and covered his ears.

He still had his foot on the gas pedal, but the loudness of the music kept his concentration solely on covering his ears. The car sped backward into the next row. The impact knocked his foot off the pedal and turned off the car. Chuck had crashed into a black Mercedes parked in the row behind him. Somehow the radio kept playing loudly.

 He felt a little dizzy as he stepped out to assess the damage done to his vehicle and the other car. Perhaps it was the impact, but he thought it might be the music. Public Enemy kept screaming through his speaker, Fight the powers that be! It resounded throughout the entire garage.

Chuck’s boss, Verne, who was usually composed, came running out the door red in the face. His toupee was flying off his head. He had the appearance of someone that just had his car wrecked. His hands were waving above his head.

 I am fine. I am fine. Sorry. I can explain this, said Chuck.

My Mercedes, Verne yelled, You idiot! He spewed phlegm everywhere.

Verne was so angry he didn’t even try to fix the toupee hanging off his head. He was about sixty, and shaped like a Santa Claus. Chuck had known him as an exceedingly mild-mannered man.

Chuck looked at the damage. He remembered that Verne’s wife had left him after years of marriage, and immediately after that Verne’s only son had left for college. Verne had just celebrated his release by purchasing a brand new black Mercedes. He had told Chuck he would use the vehicle to help capture the attention of ladies. There it was - - smoking, beeping, the front quarter panel crunched in, and the hood bent.

Chuck stood next to it. He wobbled around with his hands over his ears and loud rebellious music playing, right after he had been fired. I am so sorry, boss. I can explain this, said Chuck waved his hands in front of him. He walked toward Verne hoping to calm him down.

Instead, his boss, whom Chuck had known for years and even gotten a few Christmas cards from, backhanded him across the face. Then Verne began hitting on him with his fist, as hard as an old out-of-shape man could strike. Verne’s toupee was flailing like feathers on a bird flapping its wings.

Chuck could see Verne had lost control. Verne was crying, breathing heavily. Chuck knelt, covering himself with his arms to protect himself, from Verne’s fists. In the background, he heard the hook from the music on the CD.

 Fight the Power. Fight the Power. You gots to Fight the powers that be! screamed Public Enemy.

So Chuck did. He pushed back for the first time in years. He remembered the raises that he had been passed over for, despite giving the company all his extra time. He remembered the promotion that had gone to someone’s nephew instead of him. Mostly, he remembered that on any normal day Verne never had the decency to say, Hello, Chuck. How are you doing?

So Chuck finally retaliated. He jumped up and pushed Verne. Verne stumbled backward. Still angry and out of control, he charged head first at Chuck. Like a bullfighter, Chuck moved to the left out of the way as he pushed Verne while snatching the toupee. Verne went sprawling across the concrete floor right in front of his car. Chuck saw several employees including Pamela and Chris had come outside to see what the cause of this commotion was.

Verne let out a loud growl. He rose and turned around with his cheek bleeding from where he had scraped it against the concrete. He was gasping for air as if his tie was choking him. He walked slowly toward Chuck.

Chuck stood still like a bullfighter, smugly looking at Verne, while holding his toupee above his head like a red flag.

Verne’s walk began to resemble that of a Frankenstein monster, with his hands in front of him as he approached Chuck.  He dropped to his knees a few feet from Chuck and grabbed under his double chin for his tie. Chuck reached down and loosened his tie.

Verne looked up at Chuck and said, I will sue--, then he fell unconscious at Chuck’s feet.

The music from Chuck’s car changed to the old rock classic, Born to Be Wild. Chuck listened to the guitar riff and felt adrenaline rushing through him. He jumped into his car and pulled away with the tires spinning. As he rounded the corner he threw out the toupee.

He felt the weight of years of tension rolling off his shoulders. He howled with the music as tears strolled down his eyes. Then he heard the howling of sirens behind him.

It was the Police, on motorcycles, and they were pursuing Chuck down the boulevard. Chuck looked down to see that he was doing sixty-five miles per hour. He realized he was weaving through traffic to the beat of the music.

His heart was racing, and the moment was so sweet! Chuck knew he was wrong though. He didn’t want everything to spiral out of control. He pulled over, took a deep breath, and tried to turn off the radio.

The police pulled behind him, and on the loudspeaker asked him to step out of the vehicle. He kept fumbling with the radio trying to get the CD to stop playing. He hit all the buttons twice.  The music never stopped. He started to look for his license, and another song began to play. It was NWA’s Fuck the Police

Chuck said to himself, If ever there were a bad time for that song to play, this is it. Sweat was pouring from his head as he tried to make the volume knob work on the radio. Somehow it had been rendered inoperable, as were the rest of the buttons.

He could see the police walking toward his car with their guns drawn. He was sure they thought he was a maniac on a crime spree. He began to slip down in his seat, figuring they would beat him as the police had beaten Rodney King, because of the song playing. As the barrel of a nine-millimeter police-issued handgun entered through his passenger window, he heard a loud crash.

Someone had thrown a trashcan through the window of the pawnshop across the street. A mob had formed. Some were holding sticks and bottles in their hands. A few had guns. They were chanting, Fuck the Police. Fuck the Police, along with the music blaring from Chuck’s auto. Looters jumped through the pawnshop window and pulled out TVs.

The police officers looked scared, and they were beginning to back away from his car. The officer on the driver’s side reached for his radio, while he moved quickly toward his bike. Suddenly, a shot rang out.

Chuck looked toward the crowd, which had quickly grown to over two-hundred people. The police officer dropped his radio and fired back. Two young boys dressed like gang-bangers stepped in front of the crowd, pulled large rifles from behind them, and started firing.

The air filled with the sound of automatic gunfire, sirens, screeching tires, and NWA still playing, Fuck the Police The policemen on Chuck’s passenger side fell down as he was struck by a bullet. He crawled behind Chuck’s car.

Chuck watched as the other officer was overtaken by the mob.  Through his rear-view mirror he saw the two boys taking turns kicking the officer in his stomach and head. He saw the officer’s blood splatter onto the boys as they kicked him.

This wasn’t like anything Chuck had ever seen. He felt he was watching a news report of a riot on television. As he watched in shock, the passenger door opened, and the other officer crawled into Chuck’s car. He was bleeding from his leg.

Drive! He yelled, Drive. You stupid son of a --

Chuck burned his tires pulling away from the crowd before they could surround his vehicle. The mob further down the street parted. Chuck and his new passenger fled.

Chuck knew he was in more trouble now as he looked back at the crowd, wondering if the other officer were killed. Chuck began to wonder what it was going to be like to get arrested. He felt he was going to go to jail

He imagined that his jail mate was an ex-wrestler turned rapist named Bubba who