Channel 86

A lot of people remember that movie. The one with Mike Myers playing as Dr. Seuss’s most famous character. The Cat in the Hat. It was one of those films you watched once as a kid, and then instantly forgot about the next day. Then, the memory of it creeps up on you several years later. I remember watching it. I think I was five, maybe close to six years old then. It was 2004, and I was minding my own business, when my mom told me she was going into town for a bit. I was young, so I didn’t bother to ask why, but it did make me a little sad. My dad had disappeared a little after I was born, and has been a missing person’s case for years. My mom had lost all hope that he was coming back, so she just went out. It’s not until later I found out that she was going out to see other men. A lot of them. We lived inside of a very small, yet strangely cozy apartment. We were room 9A. I remember that detail very clearly. She would often leave me alone, which I think wasn’t good since she didn’t call a babysitter. As if she could even afford one. There was no other family we could contact either. Mom had no siblings, neither did dad, and both of my grandparents had died years ago. So, it was just me and her. And she had no choice but to leave me here. I was kinda forced to grow up fast. I learned how to do simple food prep such as using the toaster or pouring a bowl of cereal, and sometimes even cooking ramen. I was playing with this wooden train toy set that had wooden tracks you could put together and roll the trains on them. I loved making it seem like they crashed. The thought would always stick in my mind of trains crashing. It was my favorite pastime.
“Mommy’s going to go out. There’s the TV in the living room if you get bored with your trains. I love you.” She said, kissing me on the forehead as she grabbed her jacket off the coat rack.
“Okay…” I replied. She knew that leaving me wasn’t something I liked. At all. I hated being alone.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can. Okay?” She said, and looked at me for a good long moment, a sad look in her calm blue eyes. The same eyes I inherited. I returned the expression, and she sighed, leaving out the door, and locking it behind her. I sighed, smashing a train into another and making explosion sounds with my mouth.

It was a cloudy evening. That smell of rain residue streamed into the apartment due to the windows being open. It was cool, but not cold. A nice cool September day. I remember the month because of the calendar mom had in the kitchen. I always stared at it when I was bored. Counting the days and memorizing the days of the week. You did what you had to when you were bored. The drapes blew calmly from the subtle wind as I stared out, the sun dipping below the town behind the dark clouds. I had played with my trains for a long time, and I grew bored of it for the first time. I turned to look into the living room, and just stared at the TV for a while. I knew how it worked, but I just never had much interest in TV as a kid. But that day was the most boring, and I needed something to pass the time so I could see my mom sooner. So, I made my way to the coffee table, grabbed the remote, and plopped myself on the couch. For a long time I spent browsing channels, a lot of them never piquing my interest, even The Backyardigans didn’t stop me from clicking next. I don’t really remember exactly how TVs worked back then, and I certainly didn’t figure it out when I was five, but eventually I turned to Channel 86, and I stopped. Bright colors and a cheery soundtrack filled my ears as I became mesmerized by the 2003 film, The Cat in the Hat. Yes. The one with Mike Myers. Except, this copy was… different. It started off cheery, and in my child brain, the stimulus was undeniably satisfying. I just kept watching, and watching, through the whole film. To my surprise, when it was over, it played again. I was overjoyed. I kept watching. Then, on the third time, something… changed. This time, there was no cheery music, or any music at all. Just sounds. And, it was no longer colorful, but a dull gray. The colors were very dark and depressing, and the camera moved very slowly through the town the movie was set in. The whimsical nature of the town remained the same, but no one was around. Not a single person. Eventually, we got to the main two kids. Sally and Conrad were their names. Conrad was sitting in front of the window like he always did at the beginning of the movie, staring out at the cloudy dark sky with the rain. Distant thunder boomed as he left and found Sally reading a book. She, of course, was bored as well. I was confused. The film didn’t go like this the first two times. Why did it change? I kept watching, my curiosity warring with my better judgement to just turn it off. The scary part is, I don’t think I could’ve even if I wanted to.
“There’s nothing to do.” Conrad said.
Sally looked up at him and sighed, agreeing with a nod.
“Got any ideas?” He asked.
“No. Nothing.” Sally replied.
Conrad rolled his eyes and sat down next to her. That’s when something large started moving around upstairs.
“Did you hear that?” Conrad asked.
“I did…” Sally said, worry starting to manifest on her expression. Conrad got up and began walking towards the foot of the stairs when Sally stopped him.
“What if it’s an intruder?” Sally said, holding his arm.
Conrad looked around. He opened a closet and grabbed out a silver bat. Conrad held it up to Sally, and she nodded. They both began walking up the stairs, cautiously, Sally holding onto her brother as Conrad held the bat close to himself. They reached the top when more sounds came from a nearby room. They both gasped and looked at where the noise came from. Conrad’s hands on the bat began to shake as he neared closer, and closer, and closer towards the room. He placed his hand on the door, and pushed it open. My eyes widened, the same went for Conrad and Sally’s reaction when we all saw a hunched black hairy humanoid creature hidden behind the bed in the room. The thing then suddenly stopped moving, and it slowly began to stand up and that’s when the screen cut to black. Horrid, absolutely horrid screams blasted from the speakers of the TV so loud I had to cover my ears. I began crying as I thought the speakers were going to burst from the loud noise. Then, silence. Just as quickly as the screams started, they abruptly ceased. I slowly removed my hands from my ears, and looked at the screen, breathing heavily. My heart was thrumming against my chest. I never felt such a shock in my life. The screen showed the silver bat lying on the floor of the bedroom, but Conrad and Sally were nowhere to be found. Then, the signal cut out. The TV read that Channel 86 was offline due to technical difficulties. I had no idea what that meant, but I was glad it was over.

I shut off the TV, having had enough of it for the day. My ears were still ringing from that screaming even when I tried distracting myself with my trains. They echoed in my brain like a broken record, constantly going and going. My mom still didn’t return home. That night, I went to bed, but couldn’t sleep. Images flashed in my head of the memory of seeing that hunched figure behind the bed. It terrified me so much I curled up into a ball and tried staying away from the edge of my bed as much as possible, fearing that whatever I saw on TV was underneath my bed, waiting for the perfect moment of me letting my leg fall off the side so it could grab it and pull me under. After hours of staring at the ceiling, my eyes finally began to flutter closed.

The next morning, my eyes opened to the sound of humming. My door was closed, but I have zero memory of closing it the previous night. I remember very clearly that I stared at the open door, fearing the figure would come around the corner and run at me down the hallway. Though, it was very well closed. I figured my mom must’ve closed it since she often does that whenever I leave it open. I got up, rubbing my eyes as I opened the door, and stopped dead in my tracks. There, standing in place where my mother usually stood, was a black hairy humanoid thing standing in front of the stove, clashing and banging. On top of its head, was a red and black top hat. I know the Cat in the Hat usually has a red and white striped top hat, but… he didn’t. It was different. And he sensed me staring at him. He slowly turned around, and I saw his face. It was the same exact face from the movie, but in real life, staring right at me. Its eyes were bloodshot though, and a faint odor was escaping it as a strange yellowish mold substance was caked on the corners of its eyes as if it hadn’t slept in days. He smiled, and giggled that same laugh he always did in the movie. I noticed a faint red smudge on the corner of his lip.
“Well come on and sit down, Peter! Got breakfast all cooked up and ready for ya!” He said, motioning for me to go into the dining room. I didn’t know whether to run or follow orders, but I didn’t want to find out what happened if I made him angry, so I obeyed. I sat down at the table, and he giggled as he came over and placed a plate in front of me. It was a plate of waffles. Way too perfect. He sat down in front of me and stared at me with a big smile on his face.
“Well, eat up! Don’t want them to get cold now, do you?” He said. Suddenly, muffled moans came out of my mom’s bedroom.
“Oops! Looks like our guest is awake! I’ll go serve her up some breakfast, how’s that sound?” He said, and got up and grabbed a plate. He skipped towards her bedroom, and opened the door. I tried seeing what was inside from where I was sitting, but only saw the mirror, and the reflection showed my mom tied up to the bed. He slammed the door closed, and muffled screams mixed with hushed frustrated insults from the Cat. He called her things that… That I hate to repeat. Things you never call a woman. And yeah, mom did see a lot of men, but I know for a fact she never went for guys who were already with someone else. Tears began welling up at the corners of my eyes. How could this be happening? This had to be some nightmare! I remember that voice all too well. No, it wasn’t Mike Myers’s voice. Never was. His voice, the Cat, was different. It was more goofy, but higher pitched, but not in a cute way. It didn’t even sound like a human voice at all.
I tensed up when he slammed open the door again, the plate gone from his hands as he slammed the door closed behind him. I didn’t look at him, but I stared at him from the corner of my eyes. I could’ve sworn the eyes began to glow with that reflective surface real cats have. He giggled as he came over, his feet on the floor sounded like giant boots. He must’ve weighed a good 300 pounds. I estimated that later. He sat down in front of me again. I kept my eyes down, still crying as silently as I could.
“Tears?” He blurted, and slammed his hands down on the table, making me jump.
“Well we can’t have that now can we?”
He got up a little too quickly, making the chair he was sitting in fall back as he stumbled out and stood on his feet.
“Look at me.” He said. But it was serious in his tone.
I didn’t.
“Look. At. Me.” He repeated.
I still didn’t.
“LOOK AT ME YOU LITTLE SHIT!” He screamed.
I finally did what he asked, and slowly turned my tear streaked face at him.
“There. See? Not so hard now is it? Just listen to me, and you’ll be just dandy!” He said, and began dancing.
“C-can… Can I see my mom…?” I asked.
He stopped dancing and stared at me with an expression that made me regret even asking. His gaze was cold, dead serious.
“No, you can’t see the bitch.” He said. Deadpan.
My eyes welled up with more tears. He called my mother a “bitch”. I heard the word before, but never heard it directed at my mom. It scared me so much I couldn’t stop tearing up.
“Stop crying.” He said.
I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. That’s when he went over and slammed his fist down on the table and screamed in my face, his horrid features so close I could smell that foul odor of piss and shit even more.
“SHUT UP!” He screamed. Finally, I worked up a way to stop, ceasing my whimpering, but the tears didn’t stop falling. He backed up and towered over me.
“I’m going to check on your mom.”
He then turned toward her room, and entered, slamming the door behind him. I looked around the room. I eyed the front door and bolted towards it, but it wouldn’t budge. To my horror, he welding the knob so it wouldn’t turn, same with the locks. I was trapped. I went over to the window, but that wouldn’t have been very smart to jump out a two story window. I began crying again as I looked around, completely helpless. I fell to my knees and just stayed there. Zero hope. He came out again, closing the door behind him.
“Peter, why don’t you shut the fuck up? Hm? Your mom’s sleeping.” He said. He looked down at me. I couldn’t bear looking at his damn face again. He scoffed and kicked me aside as he entered the kitchen again.

I don’t remember much else, but I do remember how I tried going into my mom’s room. The Cat fell asleep on the couch, snoring loudly. He had grabbed all of my mom’s alcohol and drank every last bottle. They were scattered everywhere, even some were shattered on the floor. He even threw some bottles at her bedroom door before he went out cold. I was hiding in my room when I stopped hearing glass shattering. I opened my door just a bit, and saw him sleeping. I knew this was my only chance of checking on my mom. I quickly, and quietly, began walking towards her door, when I stepped on a piece of glass. I was wearing socks, so as to not alert the Cat, but I felt blood and a searing pain as I was about to scream but I bit down on my arm, holding it in. The Cat rustled, snorting as he rolled a bit, but didn’t wake. He breathed and looked down. Shards littered all over in front of the door. I had to be careful. I began tip-toeing across the shards, before finally reaching her door. I grabbed the knob and carefully turned it, when it creaked loudly. I stopped, breathing hard as my heart pounded in my chest so loud I thought it’d wake even the Cat. To my dumb luck, he didn’t wake. I sighed in relief, quietly as I could, and turned the knob ever slower. It creaked, but not as loud, until it opened the door. I went in and quickly shut it behind me as quiet as possible. I then turned to my mom’s bed, and found her still tied up to the bed. There were marks all over her body, and she didn’t look good at all. Tears had streaked her makeup, and her hair was a mess. I looked around the room for anything I could use to cut the ropes, when I noticed pedicure scissors sitting on the sink. I quickly grabbed them and began cutting away the ropes, and my mom was finally freed. I went to her side and shook her. She didn’t wake up. I shook her more and more, when finally I slapped her. Her eyes then shot open as she gasped, but was gagged by some handkerchief. I pulled it out of her mouth and she breathed in heavily as she looked at me. Her voice was scratchy, probably due to her screaming so much.
“P-petey…? Baby…? H-how…?” She muttered.
“Mom there’s no time! We have to go!” I shook her more.
She tried getting up but couldn’t.
“Petey… I-I can’t… He… He did too much to me… Petey… Listen to me… Remember what I told you? About the home phone? Call the police—”
“He destroyed it!” I whispered.
“F-fucking hell…” She said, placing a hand on her face. Then she looked at me.
“Petey, there’s no choice. You’re going to have to kill him.”
I gasped. “What?”
“Grab a knife, and stab it as hard as you can into his neck. Don’t ever let go. Go as deep as you can. You need to kill him. Do you understand? You need to kill him. Go! Go! Before he wakes up!”
She waved her toward the door, but grunted as she laid back, trying to regain her strength. I whimpered, but knew what I had to do. She was all I had left, and he hurt her. He needed to go, or else he would hurt us more. I left, and slowly opened the door. He was still asleep on the couch, but was beginning to move a lot more. I opened the door completely, and forgot about the glass shards. I stepped on one again, and almost yelped when I bit down on my tongue, making it bleed, but I had to hold it. The Cat remained asleep. Next thing I remember, I held the knife right in front of his neck, and his eyes shooting open just before I plunged it as hard as I could right into his throat. He gurgled and moaned as he punched me, sending me stumbling back on the floor as he got up and held his hands to the knife, trying to rip it out. He stumbled around for a full minute before falling down and crashing into the coffee table. Blood was everywhere. So much blood…

* * *

“And how did that make you feel, Peter?” My therapist asked after I finished telling her a secret me and my mother kept to ourselves for years. I’m 19 now. We’re a little better off than we were before. I didn’t answer. My therapist, Dr. Carol Anne, noted down something, and looked at me again.
“You told me that the live-action Cat in the Hat attacked you and your mother, is that correct?” She asked.
I nodded. “Yes.”
“But you do know it was actually a man named Thomas Olsen? There was no Cat in the Hat.”
My eyes twitched. I looked back into the memory. Then, it just made more sense. My kid brain must’ve made up the man into Cat in the Hat because I couldn’t handle that it was a human being who did this.
“I understand he… um… raped your mother?” She asked.
“Yes…” I muttered.
“Your mother was at a bar, and had met this man. She took him home, and he took advantage of her, and then you, holding both of you hostage. Thomas Olsen has had a history with hurting a lot of people, being sent to prison before meeting your mother for abusing his family. You killing him was an act of self-defense, and an act highly encouraged. You and your mother were in danger, Peter. What you did was right.” She placed a hand on my knee. I looked up at her.
“I know. But that’s not what really bothers me.”
She raised an eyebrow. “It’s not?”
“No.”
“Then what is it?”
“The TV. Channel 86. The third time I watched the movie. The time when Conrad and Sally…”
“The time when the movie wasn’t how it was the previous times?” Carol wrote down more notes on her pad.
“Peter, it was probably just some glitch in your mind. A false memory implanted into your brain as a defense mechanism. A way to justify the horrible events that took place all those years ago.”
I clenched my hands into fists. “No. I know what I saw.”
She sighed and took off her glasses. “What you saw was a manifestation of stress. Nothing more. Just isolation building up inside your mind.”
“Can you say that for sure?” I looked up at her, narrowing my eyes.
Her eyes looked tired. Her face, worn. “To be honest, Peter, it’s just a theory. But an educated theory. Nevertheless, I suggest you and your mother continue to see me over the course of this year. I want to make sure you two are still functioning well. That’s it for today, Peter. I’ll see you again same time tomorrow.”
I instantly got up and stormed out of the room. I know what I saw, I know what I saw dammit! No way it was some defense mechanism! I know what I saw, and I know that Channel 86 showed something I wasn’t supposed to see. I’ll prove it… Somehow…

I spent the rest of the week trying to research as much as I could about Channel 86. All I got was one single news article about a boy who was murdered, and that his sister reported that he watched The Cat in the Hat on Channel 86, and the Cat took her brother away. He was described the same way I saw him as Thomas Olsen. Red and black striped top hat, with bloodshot eyes. A police sketch was made, and it showed exactly what I saw. The girl described exactly what happened the third time I watched the movie as well. And that her brother watched it three times as well. Meaning, this has happened before. But how many times? How many kids have suffered an attack from this… this entity? Whatever it is, it’s taking the form of something that’s twisting a childhood nostalgia. I turned off my computer, the light disappearing and my room getting encased in darkness. What didn’t make sense to me, is why was I spared? Was it because Thomas came in at the wrong time for the entity to strike? Was it just dumb luck?
I sat down on my bed and just stared at the darkness. I still have the same TV from all those years ago. The same TV that played Channel 86. On pure instinct alone, I grabbed the remote and turned it on, switching channels until… nothing. I didn’t find it. It didn’t exist anymore. I sighed and tossed the remote to the floor, letting it play some cooking channel. Maybe it really was just some strange brain defense trying to protect me. I was just making stuff up to justify what happened. I got up and exited my room. I always say goodnight to mom before I go to bed. Probably a very childish thing to do, but I don’t care. I open her door, and find the Cat in the Hat currently axing her body. Blood is everywhere, her organs displayed like some sick buffet. The Cat looks at me, stopping its rampage of my mother’s body. Her face is completely mangled, as the Cat’s lips are dripping with blood. He smiled at me, his teeth, more cat teeth than human, different than the Thomas Olsen incident, and they dripped with her blood.
“Hiya Pete! Wanna bite?” He said, cheerfully in a more demonic tone of voice. I slammed the door shut and ran to my room, locking the door as I dialed 911. The line immediately picked up, and his voice responded.
“This is 911, here to answer all calls about killer cats, couldn’t be me though!” It laughed as I hung up immediately, throwing my phone across the room. The TV then screamed with the very same screams Conrad and Sally made. I covered my ears as it glitched to Channel 86, and showed the Cat standing at the end of Conrad and Sally’s hallway, holding the bloody axe. He chuckled as he looked at me, the screaming stopping. He then had the camera follow him as he opened the same bedroom door Conrad and Sally opened, and went over to the other side of the bed that he was at before. The camera followed him, and there, lying on the floor, was my mom’s mangled corpse. Not only hers… but my father’s as well.

Credit: L.J. Bradford

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