The Secret Dark Mind of Walden Mitty

This idea is based on the movie a Hans Christian Anderson Tale, twisted to fit in for a Halloween Theme. The original Author of 'The secret life of Walter Mitty' was James Thurber. This story is what happens when one over indulges on a Thanksgiving Dinner (Canadian). Way too much food and beverages before sleep causes weird ideas to float around. Dreams morph into strange things indeed.

Walden Mitty stared at his boss’s face watching it grow redder, spittle flying from his mouth as he continued to rant about Walden's performance and latest report. He did not care for it.

The vein in Mr. Carrols head began to pop, you could actually see it pulse. Walden was used to the triads of this deranged individual. It was his trait. Normally it could be tolerated. But tonight Walden needed to leave work, as he was meeting his wife at he cabin for their anniversary. Instead of sipping bubbly he was being spit on by a lunatic.

Carrols just needed to shut his mouth. The sound of the clock on the wall ticking in his head. Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

Taking a deep breath, undercover agent Walden sauntered towards the desk. Knowing he was caught, yet he remained calm as a cucumber, (What ever that really meant). The Mob boss watched, wondering why this man was approaching him while he was in mid sentence. He should be on his hands and knees begging for his life. Instead he was casually picking items off he desk and setting them down again.

Puffing on the cigar, he blew smoke towards this man who appeared to not have a care in the world. "Listen Walden, your little game is finished. We know who you are. Once I call my boys in here you'll be swimm'n with da fishes."

Agent Walden chuckled and said." How do you propose to call them when you cannot open your mouth?" Without warning, he leapt over the desk and jabbed a pen upward through the underside of the jaw and striking the roof of the mouth. Sealing the mobsters jaw shut. His eyes jutted out in shock.

Casually leaning on the desk Walden spoke calmly. "Apparently you have nothing more to say, Therefore I shall now be on my way, and I'll take your secrets with me."

The boss leaned towards Walden, one arms outstretched, the other tugging furiously at the imbedded object. With a sucking sound the pen slowly drew out, blood dripped onto the expensive carpet, and walnut desk. The boss opened his mouth to speak, the only sound that came out was a ringing noise. Over and over, ringing.

Walden’s eyes snapped into focus as he watched Mr. Carrols reach for the phone. Yelling into it, "What is it?" Then pausing quickly. "Oh, Sorry, I didn't know it was you. No, no I am not busy. Just saying goodbye to an employee." With a wave of a hand, Walden was dismissed. Closing the door as he left, he could hear his boss ask. "Tonight?"

Walking to his desk he picked up his laptop case and a few items and headed towards the elevator. He didn't get very far when a voice rang out crystal clear. "Mitty's Messed up again."

Looking up he saw Jenkins, the loudmouth of the office striding towards him. Laughing. "Well, you ended this week on a bang, Mitty old boy. What you do to piss him off this time?"

Walden ignored him and pressed the down button, praying for the doors to open. His wish was granted. As the doors parted they heard a voice call out. "Please hold the door."

Turning around they watched Vanessa approach. The prettiest girl Walden had ever seen, and the nicest. "Thanks Walden."

The two entered the tiny space, just before the doors closed Jenkins slid is oversized body in with them. "You don't have your laptop Jenkins." Commented Vanessa, "Shouldn't you go and get it?"

Leering at the tiny women Jenkins drooled. "And miss the chance to ride down with you gorgeous, not a chance. I'll get Freddy to bring it to my place, he's a putz. He does what ever I ask."

For twenty-four floors, they were forced to listen to the braggart babble on. Walden watched the big man corner Vanessa, pressing his body against her as he continued to talk. Someone should teach him a lesson he thought. The sound of the passing floors pinged as they dropped. Ping, ping. Ping, ping.

Casually Walden stepped in between Jenkins and the frightened girl. Years of special forces training as well as being raised by the mystical monks from the fabled city of Shangri-La, had given him the skills he needed to handle the situation. With confidence, he gently pressed a hand on Jenkins’s chest and spoke. "Perhaps you should leave this nice lady alone, it appears she isn't interested in you."

Jenkins towered over Walden, leaned in and laughed. "Who's going to stop me little man, You?"

It happened so fast. Walden managed to spin around in the tiny space and delivered an elbow directly into the nose of the big man. As he fell back, his balding head smashed into the mirrored wall. The big guy tried to lunge, but fast as a snake Waldon shot a palmed hand outward striking him in the chest. Jenkins crumpled like a discarded puppet. Turning to Venessa Walden smiled and said, "You should no longer have to worry about him, ever again."

She looked up with wonder in her eyes and ever so gently she reached up and pulled his head towards hers. She kissed him with a frenzied passion. Walden placed his hands softly upon her shoulders and eased her away. Staring directly into her beautiful blue eyes he said. "Thank you, I am most honored. But Alas I am a married man and I take the sanctity of our vows seriously."

Vanessa turned away, embarrassed, and whispered. "Why are all the good men taken?" With a quick kiss on the cheek, she added. "Know, you are the best of them, Walden Mitty."

Walden was about to say something, but the sound of a gong echoed around him. He found himself staring out onto the foyer.

"You just gonna stand there Mitty or are you going to exit, jeez what a moron." Jenkins brushed passed him and headed out the elevator doors. "See ya later gorgeous"

"Have a good weekend Walden." Vanessa said as she walked away. He stared at her watching as she disappeared around the corner. Lost in thought he never even notice the doors closing till it was to late. He went for another elevator ride.

The roads were crowded as he drove home, everyone trying to get their weekend started. All in a rush, with no thought of others sharing the road. A horn blared as a car blew past him then quickly cut back into his lane, forcing him to slam on the breaks. Walden stared at the car, he watched an arm extend out the window in front and proceed to give him the finger. Waldense heartbeat pounded faster. Thump, thump. Thump, thump.

The Horn sounded the beginning of the games, Death Race was on. Sentenced for a crime he didn't commit his only chance of freedom lay in winning. A game for the rich to be entertained, saying that it was society who demanded this form of punishment. Thirty weaponized vehicles destroying each other, while racing to the finish line. Well, if he needed to win, then win he shall. No-one would get in his way of freedom and a chance to return to the love of his life.

Shifting gears, his mustang raced along side all the other desperate men and women forced into this farce. Already noises of grating metal and smell of burning rubber overloaded his senses. No one knew about his passion for racing, and how he gave it up for love. Racing was in his blood. Pressing harder on the gas, Walden dodged in and out of vehicles of all types. Trucks, vans, cars. All designed to be a weapon. Glancing at his dash he saw an arraignment of choices, from mounted guns to spinning blades and even a flame thrower. Bullets riddled the car in front of him, it caught on fire then blew up. Veering around the burnt offering, Walden saw the threat off to his right. The armored truck now had him in sight as their next victim. Walden waited, His first choice was to win without killing anyone, not easy to do. But his love would want him to try. Patience was needed and skill. He watched as the truck turned sharply towards him, lining him up in the sights of their guns. He had to appear to take the first volley if this were to work. Tiny flames shot out of their barrels as bullets flew out striking his car. Walden pulled on the emergency brake; his car Slid sideways. Allowing for Walden to line up his guns. Pressings the trigger he shot, shredding their tires. The armored vehicle spun out of control and flew into the wall. There would be no survivors. 'Sorry my love.'

Walden cranked the steering wheel and stepped on the gas. The car spun around doing several 360's. Waldon flicked the switch and ignited the flame throwers. Fire engulfed the two closest vehicles, the others dodged to get out of the way, most spun off the track. Getting the Mustang under control he headed for the finishing line, the green light rose like a beacon to guide him home. The horn blared again, and again.

Walden stared up at the traffic light as the vehicle behind him continued honking for him to proceed. Walden stepped on the gas and drove forward. Heading out of town. The Cabin at the lake was only an hour away. Soon he would be resting, relaxing with his wife. The first drops of rain began, splattering onto the windshield, as he daydreamed of their night alone.

It was dark by the time Waldon pulled into the yard, by now the rain was pouring down hard. Driving that last part down dark and desolate roads took all his concentration. A light from within drew his attention, he walked up to the window and peered inside. His wife was placing a pot inside the oven, her long dark hair cascaded over her shoulders as she bent forward. Waldon was hungry, but no longer for food. The rain fell. Drip, drip. Drip, drip.

The light from within pierced the night, For a thousand years Waldon roamed these lands, always searching, always hungry. His soul no longer his, the cost of living forever. The woman inside stood up and stretched, pulling her hair up and behind her ears. Her soft neck beckoned to him, calling to him. He slipped inside, aware of the water falling upon the floor. He was hoping the sounds of the television, playing in the background, would be enough to mask his movements. Her back was to him. Softly he crept, till he was with in reach. She sensed him. Instead of running away she tilted her head, offering herself to him. Gently he caressed her hair , running his hand up her back he felt her shiver. He could taste her now, her heart pumping blood through her veins. Tempting him to ravage this woman. He wanted to savor this; his fangs slowly began to protrude. They dripped with moisture. He leaned in and tenderly bit her skin, just under the ear. Without a word, she turned on him, slapping him hard on the side of is face, the real world awakened.

With his head snapping back from the blow Waldon stumble back, ears ringing.

"Waldon, what the hell are you doing sneaking up on me like that. You're lucky I didn't have a knife in my hand.

"Sorry honey, I thought it would be romantic."

"What scaring the shit out of me." She began to chuckle. Then she saw his face with the imprint of her hand on it. "Oh, sweetie I am so sorry."

Sheepishly Walden replied. "Happy anniversary?"

"Oh, my dear and wonderful Waldon, you're always in two worlds." Looking at her husband she felt an urge. "Dinner won't be ready for over an hour." Taking his hand she led him away, into the bedroom.

As they closed the door, a lady's voice delivering the news on the television could be heard saying. 'Traffic is still backed up on the I-93 Northbound, as a massive car pile up has commuters frustrated. This just in.... Millionaire Melvin Carrols was found dead in his office this evening. Police are looking for any witnesses. They say, they are searching for one man of interest.'

This was just a fun little story, that snuck in my head while I slept. I had to get it out.

A twisted version from the original author James Thurber. This is nothing but a fun little story.

I would like to thank you for taking the time to read my story. If you enjoyed it, please leave a heart, and help yourself to view my other writings. Should you decided to leave a tip or share the story with others, it is not expected, but always appreciated.

Jason,