Tales from the Trailer Episode 2: Slasher Community College by Doug Klein
Tales from the Trailer
Season 1 Episode 2
Slasher Community College
By Doug Klein
Cue the song Blind by Korn.
Hey, mouthbreathers, thanks for tuning in to another episode of Tales from the Trailer. I’m your host with the ghosts, Johnny Walker Ranger. I hope you got your booze of choice ready for this slashing story because it’s a fun one. One of our resident authors, Dumbass Doug (I just made up that name for him) is bringing you this short. Y’all need to read this because I know some of you don’t have a clue how to be a slasher. But I do, cause I kill demons for a living and I know good execution when I read it.
So pay attention, young Grasshopper. Doug is about to take you to school.
#
Mr. Blood stood at the front of the classroom. He had erased the leftover equations from calculus that had littered the chalkboard and was writing the headline for the topic of the day.
Blade Skills
The room was full of mainly young adults, all looking to hone their skills and become true professionals in the field. They were talking, laughing, and shooting the shit. Mr. Blood looked at the clock on the wall, which was always three minutes behind. It read 6:57pm, and so it was time to begin.
"Okay, okay! Class, please simmer down." Mr Blood said, but the murmurs continued. Mr. Blood took his knife out of its sheath and stabbed it into the desk.
"Silence!" His booming voice echoed through the room. He had been teaching Slasher Basics for three years at Wellington Community College, and each class felt the same. No one ever paid enough attention. So, he often had to get into theatrics to get things rolling, and today was no different.
"Okay, everyone form a circle with your desks,” Mr. Blood said. He spoke over the squeals of the desks being shifted into a rough circle. “We're going to have a little roundabout discussion and then talk about the assignments that you were given a few weeks back, and we will talk about your progress.
Okay, so today, as you can see from the board, we are going to talk about blade skills. Now, for a slasher, your weapon of choice, for beginning level killers like you all, should be a blade of some sort. A kitchen knife, a hunting knife, perhaps even a machete. Each one can give you an iconic look and are very effective at both inducing fear and killing victims." Mr. Blood gestured with his hands as he spoke, an old habit he could never shake off.
Mr. Blood saw Toby had raised his hand and nodded in his direction to let him speak. Toby was one of the few who seemed to want to learn, but he was a bit of a perfectionist and graded himself pretty hard. Toby took a second to gather his thoughts, then spoke.
"So, I'm glad we’re talking about this now because I have been having a lot of trouble with my blade as of late," Toby admitted.
Mr. Blood leaned forward and put his hands under his chin. "Go on."
"Well I've been using a standard kitchen knife, and when I go to stab people, I want, like, a good in and out, you know? A solid mortal wound and then I can posture while they die kind of thing. But I've been getting stuck on entry, and it's been like a two to three thrust thing just to get the damn blade in." Toby started, frustrated.
"And you know, I was trying to get real showy,” Toby continued. “I wanted a nice sternum entry and to lift this one guy up, like his feet off the ground. Thought it would be dope, and when I went to lift, the blade shot out, I got blood in my eye, and worst of all, he started to run. Took me three blocks to find and finish him in an alley. Just felt so amateur. I was ashamed, really." Toby finished and Mr. Blood nodded, taking it all in.
"Now, Toby,” Mr. Blood said. “ I understand your concern but the reality is you have been slashing for what, one year now? This sort of thing takes time, and you will develop a real showmanship with practice and effort. Now, one concern though, you did say a standard kitchen knife?"
Toby nodded. Mr. Blood looked around the class and then back at Toby.
"You cannot get cheap with your blade, Toby. Cheap blade, cheap kills." Mr. Blood said to the class.
"Should've went with a chainsaw." Carl, the troublemaker, said.
"Carl, shut the fuck up about the chainsaw," Brent said from the other side of the room. Brent was the angry loudmouth, and had no problems letting everyone know their faults. Carl, however, had no problem with a little back and forth.
"The chainsaw is the fucking best, Brent. Better than that shitty hunting knife you got. Gonna grab some venison on the way to the victims house there, pal?" Carl retorted.
"The chainsaw is loud as fuck. There is no stealth with a chainsaw, Carl! You might as well have a God damn fart siren on your ass you dumb shit!" Brent yelled back.
"I want them to hear it, dip shit! It's loud and scary. Brum-brum-bruuuuuummmmm and then you’re fucking dead!" Carl retorted.
"Not if it takes you more than three times to start it, Carl." Brent said with a taunting tone.
"That was only once!" He replied.
"Twice." Toby interjected.
"Uh, whu, okay twice, but come on, it's just cool and you know it." Carl attempted to save face.
Mr. Blood had been waving his hands for a bit, and finally found a pause to jump in.
"Hey! Okay, no more of that,” Mr. Blood said. “We need to talk about the assignment now, all right. Two weeks ago I gave you all a task of beginning a kill count for this class. Now we are going to check and see how we are all doing." Mr. Blood scanned the room and a few faces had become a little anxious. Mr. Blood found the most anxiety on Jeff's face, so he called on him first.
"Jeff? How are we faring so far?" Mr. Blood asked.
Jeff rubbed his hands together nervously, and then he spoke.
"Three," He said.
"Three? Now we wanted a minimum of five Jeff. What happened?" Mr. Blood asked.
"I went to a sorority house, thought it would be money, but it wasn't. The whole sorority went on some charity mission trip and no one came home while I was there," Jeff said reluctantly.
"How long were you there?" Toby asked.
"Four days." Jeff admitted.
"Four days? What the fuck? You didn't think to leave?" Brent nearly fell out of his chair as he yelled.
"They had food in the fridge and I could shower and shit, so I thought I could wait them out." Jeff relented.
“You went to kill a sorority house full of easy prey but ended up in a bed and breakfast? You are fucking hopeless! How did you even get three?" An incredulous Brent asked.
"I went to a convenience store and just killed everyone who was there and left." Jeff said sheepishly.
Brent just shook his head and Toby grimaced. Mr. Blood put his hand to his temple to stifle the migraine he felt building.
"Jeff? What mask did you wear, and what weapon did you use?" Mr. Blood asked with caution.
"I had a scarecrow mask and I used a butterfly knife." Jeff said.
The students burst into laughter. Carl had to get up and pace the room, wiping tears from his eyes, and laughing.
"A butterfly knife? Scarecrow mask? Dammit boy you're gonna be called the Scarecrow Boot Camp Dropout Douchebag Killer! Oh, fuck me that's too much." Carl said as he slammed himself back down into his seat.
"Butterfly knives are cool. They spin and shit." Jeff said meekly. The room roared once more in laughter. Mr. Blood simply had his hands on his face. This lot were the worst in quite some time.
"Should have used a chainsaw." Carl said.
"Get fucked." Brent replied.
Mr. Blood suddenly whipped his blade into the throat of Brent, who coughed and sputtered blood from the wound. Brent reached pointlessly to the blade and fell to the floor in a pool of his own death. Mr. Blood yanked the blade from Brent's body and stood over him.
He looked around at the faces of shock and horror. It felt good to kill again, but dammit, now he was down a student. Again. Mr. Blood composed himself and sat back in his seat.
"Now that I've demonstrated it, next week we will be looking at using your blade as a ranged attack. Study up on that and have any questions ready for me when we meet in two weeks from now. Anything else?" Mr. Blood asked. Carl raised his hand. Mr. Blood sighed heavily and then addressed Carl.
"Yes, Carl?" He said.
"Can I throw a chainsaw?" Carl asked.
Mr. Blood screamed internally.
#
Anyone else out there want to kick Carl in the nuts? Or maybe stick his hand in a blender? But I am with Carl on one thing: I’d love to throw a chainsaw at someone. You ever thought what it would be like if Ash Williams’ chainsaw hand was kind of like his own personal Bat-a-rang? I mean, he could sling that son of a bitch at deadites and it would fly through the air and maul them, then return to his nub.
Anyway, back to the story. Brent deserved to die in my honest opinion. He is more annoying than all the writers at Horror Bound. And Jeff? He is either the most patient man alive or was really desperate to see naked chicks. I mean, he had a failed attempt at recreating Sorority House Massacre, but at least he tried to wait it out.
Well, I hope you enjoyed today’s episode. I will be back soon with another delightful tale to tickle your horror fancy. Until then, try not to be an idiot. This is Johnny Walker Ranger signing off.
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