Author Archives: stevenjohnno

Stinger

17 Saturday Jun 2017

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In southern Texas not far from the Mexican border a desperate scientist is looking

for a wasp.

And not just any wasp but a large female tarantula hawk.

A wasp known for its aggressiveness and large stinger.

 

The reason the scientist is desperate is because he is working for a dangerous drug smuggler from Mexico.

This smuggler is named El Groucho he is mean and nasty without any good bones in his body.

He has been sneaking drugs into America for over a decade but lately all of his attempts

from been thwarted by the US authorities.

So he has come up with a cunning plan instead of digging under the border he will fly over it.

So he has decided to use genetically modified wasps as drug mules.

 

That is where the scientist comes in.

His family was kidnapped by El Groucho a few weeks ago and if the scientist doesn’t genetically modify a wasp into a drug smuggler his family will be killed.

The scientist’s name is Dr Michael Chapman and he is the most respected genetic scientist in the USA.

 

El Groucho’s crazy idea is to have an aggressive female tarantula hawk wasp mated with a male mexican wasp known for its endurance and its temper.

But most of all for its extra large stinger.

So El Groucho is hoping to have the two nasty wasps offspring genenetically modified into drug smugglers with large stingers to fight off eagles and others large prey and to deliver the drugs to the american public at large.

 

Up in Laredo the scientist has finally located a female tarantula hawk and is on his way back to El Groucho’s compound in Nuevo Juarez Mexico.

The scientist thinks that El Groucho should be called El Loco instead because his plan is crazy and diabolical.

But he will do anything to save his wife and two children so he puts his foot down and drives towards Mexico.

 

He arrives at the compound four hours later and El Groucho rush’es him inside and orders him to get to work immediately.

The scientist refuses and tells El Groucho that he want start until he knows that hi family is safe.

So El Groucho orders one of his henchman to bring the family to him immediately.

And a few minutes later the scientist is reunited with his family where they hug and kiss for a while until his family is taken away and he is taken downstairs where a rudimentary laboratory has been set up.

 

The scientist has a look around and cant believe that El Groucho expects him to work under these conditions.

But he knows that he hasn;t got any choice so he puts the box containing the female wasp on a table and gets to work.

He looks over to a small glass enclosure about three foot square where a small male wasp is buzzing around.

He captures  the wasp and extracts a few drops of sperm from its body.

He places the male back into the enclosure and gets to work.

 

The scientist examines and modifies the sperm day and night for two days until he is satisfied.

He has one last look under the microscope and than tell s the henchman to summin El Groucho.

El Groucho enters the lab and congratulates the scientist and watches while the sperm is injected into the female.

The female is placed into the enclosure with the male wasp where they quickly size each other up.

 

The scientist is going crazy while he waits for the female to lay her eggs.

But two days later she goes to the corner of the enclosure and deposits three little eggs on the glass.

The male comes flies over to inspect the situation but is quickly stung multiple times by the female and quickly devoured.

 

The scientist and El Groucho are both disappoited by the size of the eggs.

All three of the eggs appear normal and the scientist knows that his family are now in very deep trouble.

Than the female falls to the bottom of the enclosure  where she starts to expand.

She continues to grow and grow until she explodes in a cloud of blood and guts.

 

What emerges is a large wasp about the size of a sparrow who bash’es against the glass trying to escape.

It continues to grow and is now the size of  a dove with a mean temper and a stinger the size of a mans finger.

El Groucho orders the scientist to put his arm into the enclosure and pull the wasp out.

The scientist isn’t to keen with this idea but he has little choice when the henchman comes up behind him brandishing a large machete.

 

The scientist Puts his arm inside the enclosure and is quickly stung by the large stinger.

He grimaces in pain but he places the wasp on the table where it looks at the humans in curiosity.

El Groucho feels like frankenstein  with his monster but he looks down at that wasp and starts to talk. “You are my creation and i am your master you will obey my every command and smuggle drugs to america  until i tell you to stop ,do you understand?’

The wasp who has now grown to the size of a falcon nods its head in understanding.

 

The scientist is in a bad way and is struggling to breathe.

He can do nothing but stare in horror as is family is brought to him and are slaughtered in cold blood by the henchman’s machete.

The scientist takes his final breath and he along with his family are dragged outside and dumped in the backyard.

 

For three months the wasp flies back and forth from Texas and Mexico delivering its evil wares.

Every time it returns it feeds on the scientist and his family has his saddlebags replenished and takes off for america once again.

 

On its way back to america the modified wasp is caught in a storm where it is battered by the wind and rain.

One of the saddlebags burst open and over a kilo of cocaine enters its system.

The wasp savours the taste of the drug and it immediately wants more.

It puts its stinger into the saddlebag and has another taste.

 

The wasp alters course and heads back to Mexico and his master.

It continues to have taste after taste of the drug until its brain becomes damaged by the drug.

The wasp who is now the size of an albatross with a stinger the size of a baseball bat is now on a rampage.

 

El Groucho and the henchman are in the compound counting all the dirty money when the wall comes crashing in.

They both look but cant believe what they are seeing.

The wasp has grown into enormous proportions it is now the size of a large dog and it is still growing.

Its stinger is now as long and thick as a mans leg.

 

The henchman swings his machete but with little impact.

The wasps exoskeleton is now armour plated with a two inch thick skin of steel.

It hovers over El Groucho and the henchman

Then it strikes.

 

The henchman is impaled on the giant stinger and is injected with venom and his insides quickly turn to mush.

The wasp sucks up his liquid lunch and with a burp of satisfaction he releases the dried up husk.

Than the wasp turns its attention to El Groucho.

 

But El Groucho is nowhere to be seen.

While the wasp was having its meal he made his escape.

The wasp is pissed off that it cant have a proper revenge.

So it digs once more into the saddlebags and has another taste.

Next stop Texas.

 

Part two is coming soon so stay tuned.

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories now if you have the means could you please make a donation so i can make a donation so i can realize my dream of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

Ancestor’s Bones

20 Saturday May 2017

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On the edge of the wind swept moors of southern Scotland lies an isolated group

of villages.

The villages are known for its prime beef and spring lambs.

It is also one of the wettest places on earth.

Where hardly a day goes by that it doesn’t rain.

All of the water flows into the Smyth river that winds among the villages providing

the locals with fish and crabs.

And because of all the rain the river floods every five years or so.

It has been four years since the last flood so an overflow is due.

On the bank of the river is the local cemetery that has served the locals needs since

1266.

The rich and the poor are buried beside each other their tombstones point to the sky

to mark their final resting place.

Some of the deceased were village elders while some others were just ordinary folk.

Together they lie in peace and harmony.

But that peace is about to be broken.

All of the villagers are huddled inside beside their fires keeping out of the weather.

It is raining again today just like yesterday and the day before.

In fact it hasn’t stopped raining for twenty days now.

And the river Smyth has turned into a torrent.

In the cemetery the water table is rising rapidly and the coffins are beginning to float.

Slowly inch by inch they are making their way to the surface.

And after a midnight downpour they finally break through.

Where they sparkle under the dark sky.

Still the water level is rising until the river floods the landscape.

The coffins begin to bob and dance in the water.

And then one by one they are all swept away.

The coffins are swept down stream where they side swipe each other and begin

to break apart.

The contents spill into the water and the bones float together in the murky human

remains soup.

Some of the bones are swept away but most somehow make it to the shore.

Where they begin to crawl.

Thousands of bones have reached the bank .

They climb up onto the grass and start to inter mingle searching for the right DNA.

And like a human jigsaw puzzle the bones fall into place.

The bones fuse together into misshapen skeletons and start to stroll towards the villages.

They slowly shuffle forward sniffing the air seeking out their still living ancestors.

It is slow going because a lot of the skeletons are missing arms and legs.

But eventually the bones find the homes of their kin.

And the enter through the walls.

Mary Alcott is still grieving.

Her Mother Kate died from the black lung disease three months ago.

Mary is worn out sad and al alone in the world she can barely function.

Why did her mother have to die?

Mary Alcott hangs her head and starts to weep.

The tears freeze on her cheeks.

A sound is coming from her mothers old bedroom upstairs.

Her mother used to sit in a rocking chair while she did her needlepoint.

Mary’s skips and misses a beat as she rushes up the stairs.

When she opens the bedroom door her mouth gapes open.

While her chin hits the floor.

A collection of human bones is sitting in the rocking chair.

Back and forth it creaks.

Mary inches forward ‘Mother is that you?’

She takes a deep breath and moves even closer to that chair.

Her eyes bulge until they almost pop.

A version of her mother is sitting there doing some unfinished needle point.

Mary screams out the lords name.

Her mother gives Mary a twisted smile of welcome and tries to speak.

But all that comes out is the stench of death.

Mary is torn between love and repulsion.

She starts to move forward than takes a step back.

But she isn’t quite quick enough.

Her mothers leaps out of the chair and smothers Mary in a loving embrace.

Mary wants to pull back but she is strangely drawn towards the collection

of her mothers bones.

She has missed her mother so much.

So she surrenders to the touch.

She lets out a gasp as her mothers bones begin to fuse with her own.

Mary is Kate and Kate is Mary.

Mother and daughter are re-united once again.

In all of the villages near the cemetery the bones of  the dead are on the march.

They will soon visit their ancestors to begin life once again.

There is no use in resisting because the bones wont be denied.

Soon every home in the vicinity is visited by the bones of their dead.

And all is well.

Because there is no reason to be afraid.

Just remember that when you crack your knuckles or your bones start to creak.

It is just the bones of your ancestors saying hello.

So look after your bones.

Drink a lot of milk and treat your ancestors well.

Because if you don’t your soul will become your ancestors to sell.

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and now if you have the means could you please make a donation so i can realize my dream of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

THE END

Threads ( Clothes That Kill )

06 Saturday May 2017

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On the third Sunday of every month.

My local rotary club holds markets to help the community.

So come on down and have a look around.

Something will surely catch your eye.

There is a new stall holder this year.

He has set up his wares right out the back.

And he knows that for some he will soon become the main attraction.

Like moths to a flame they will be attracted to his aura.

He sells clothes that are trendy funky and current.

A real killer.

The owner of the stall is a man who goes by the name of Albion Lestrange.

He is really old and could easily pass as an Egyptian mummy.

His skin is mottled with age spots and he smells like death warmed up.

But when he smiles people don’t seem to notice.

All they see is a lonely old man trying to make some money on the side.

But Albion Lestrange is a completely different kettle of fish.

He will look you right in the eye as he steals your last breath.

He has set up his stall on the edge of Lake Macquarie.

And has surrounded himself with with racks of his killer apparel.

Than Albion sits back and relaxes while he waits for his next victim to approach.

Like a human spider with an invisible web.

Kim Watkins is feeling a little bit down.

Her school dance is being held on Saturday night and she has got nothing to wear.

Maybe a walk around the lake will help to cheer her up ?

She is also hoping to find something at the markets.

A pair of ear rings would be nice.

But what she really wants is a little black dress.

Albion estrange has been sitting on his easy chair all day.

And he isn’t in a very good mood.

He has sold most of his stock but he is still waiting for that special someone to

approach.

He is thinking about packing up and hitting the road.

When from the corner of his eye he notices a teenage girl getting close.

She is still 500 metres away but Albion knows that she is the one.

And he knows exactly what she wants to buy.

So he goes to the back of his van and grabs a little black dress that he has made especially for this occasion.

He puts a reptilian smile on his face and waits.

Kim Watkins has wandered from stall to stall and nothing has really caught her eye.

Than she notices a van parked way out the back.

Oh well, there is nothing to lose so walks over to have a look.

And when she gets a bit closer she cant believe her eyes.

Because right there front and centre is just what she needs a little black dress.

This must be her lucky day.

Albion Lestrange stands up when the girl reaches his stall.

And asks her what is she looking for?

Even though he already knows.

Kim has that little black hands in her hand and she asks Albion where she can try it on?

Albion tells her that he hasn’t a change room.

But Kim isn’t really listening she has what she wants.

She hands over the money and gets out of there.

As she walks away she has one last look over her shoulder.

That old guy was really creepy and he smelt like the living dead.

She walks away with a feeling of disgust,but she is happy.

Now she can go to the school dance.

Albion Lestrange has no need to follow the girl.

He knows exactly where she lives.

All he has to do is wait for that girl to try that dress on and he will steal that smile right off her face.

He will steal her very existence.

Albion has been stealing smiles and lives for a very long time.

He was born in Bulgaria in the year 1796 to a loving mother but a very abusive father.

And when he was three years old his father sensing that there was something wrong with his son.

Put him into a burlap sack and threw him in the river.

But lucky for Albion a band of gypsies were camping on the edge of the river.

They saw the sack floating by and pulled it into shore.

And when they untied the sack were surprised to see a small child inside.

They all thought they he was the second coming of Christ.

So they wrapped him in a sacred gown and bowed in his presence.

When Albion was twenty one he was taken to the leader of the gypsies who was  laying

on her death bed.

She beckoned Albion forward and blessed him with Holy water.

The elder pointed towards the corner of the room where a crystal ball sat on a velvet cloth.

She told Albion that the crystal ball was now his.

He is to take that ball and be a visionary for the people.

So Albion took that crystal ball and he travelled the world gazing into its aura.

But when Albion gazed into the ball he didn’t see visions of good he saw visions of hell.

As he travels he takes the money from the foolhardy and tells exactly what they want to hear.

But as always Albion is beginning to show his age.

His skin is as thin as parchment paper and he smells like the living dead.

But not bad for a human over 220 years of age.

And Albion has no plans to die just yet so once again he gazes into that crystal ball.

He sees visions of multi coloured threads.

Those threads dance around in Albion’s mind and a memory forms.

He remembers when he was growing up the gypsy elder telling him about magical

threads that could be woven together to kill.

He could kill without leaving a thread of evidence behind.

Albion is almost spent.

He has gazed so deep into that crystal ball that he has used up all of his reserve energy.

He is now nothing more than skin and bone.

But at that moment his crystal ball begins to glow.

Albion drags himself over to it and smiles with glee.

A young women is approaching his front door,she is the one.

He casually arranges the apparel around the room and waits for his life blood to knock.

And she does.

He shows the girl inside and she looks a little apprehensive.

At 221 years of age Albion knows that he isn;t exactly looking his best.

But he smiles at her and guides her toward the viewing room.

Albion gazes into the crystal ball and whispers the words that the women is craving.

And he notices that her eyes keep drifting towards a sweater draped over a chair.

Made with a combination of green and black magical threads the sweater is irresistable.

So after the reading Albion tells the lady to take the sweater with his blessings.

An hour later the lady gets home and runs into her bedroom.

She cant wait to try the sweater on.

Soon she is standing in front of the mirror she is so happy the sweater is a perfect fit.

It is like it was made for her.

Albion is gazing into his crystal ball watching as the lady dances around in delight.

And when she looks into the mirror once more.

Their eyes meet.

Albion can see the lady screaming and he gazes even deeper.

Soon the scream turns to horror as the sweater starts to constrict.

The lady panics as she tries to get the sweater off.

But it squeezes and squeezes until she takes her final breath.

Albion places his mouth onto his crystal ball.

And as the last breath leaves the Ladies body it enters Albion’s .

And it gives him a new lease on life.

Albion could now pass as your average 45 year old man.

It has been over a month since the girl visited his stall to buy that little black dress.

And still she hasn’t tried it on.

Albion is getting frustrated he knows that he want stay young much longer.

He needs fresh blood and he needs it now.

Once again he gazes into his crystal ball.

Kim Watkins the girl who bought the little black dress is upset.

She didn’t go to the school dance because her date stood her up so she threw the little

black dress into her closet without trying it on.

Now she is laying in bed having a very strange dream.

She is dreaming about that creepy foul smelling old man who sold her the dress.

He is telling her to visit him tomorrow morning and she is to wear that black dress.

The following morning Kim is feeling groggy like she is hungover.

And she finds herself pulling on her once favourite dress.

Then boarding a bus to the other side of town.

She gets off outside a run down house and walks towards it.

And before she can knock on the door the creepy old man opens it.

And beckons her inside.

Kim is surprised to find herself in a room with a crystal ball sitting on a table.

Albion sits her down opposite him and gazes into that ball.

Than he reaches across and starts to caress her hair and guides her mouth towards the ball.

When Kim’s mouth touches the crystal ball her body goes into a series of jerks and spasms

Albion puts his mouth on the other side of the ball and starts to suck the life from the girl.

Albion is in a state of bliss as the girls life blood enters his system.

He is once again a younger version of himself so he goes into the lounge and pours himself a large brandy to celebrate.

And he soon falls asleep with a smile of gratitude on his face.

When he awakes a few hours later he goes to check on the girls body.

And is surprised to see that she is still breathing.

So he starts to choke the girl to kill her once and for all.

But when he does he inadvertedly touches the threads on the little black dress.

And they weave and intermingle with his own clothing and they pull tight.

Albion reaches back towards his crystal ball to try and summon some help.

But he loses balance and knocks the ball to the floor.

Where it shatters into a thousand pieces.

And when it does his connection to the gypsies and the girl are broken.

He falls to the ground and lands beside Kim on the carpet.

Where they lay mouth to mouth.

Albion’s body starts to break down and decompose.

His skin splits and his internal organs start to rot.

And as his last breath leaves his body it enters Kim’s mouth and kick starts her heart.

She push’es the corpse of the creepy old fuck aside and gets to her feet.

As she stands the little black dress falls from her body and covers Albion Lestrange

like a burial shroud.

Kim runs into the bathroom hoping to find a bath robe to  wear.

And she is in luck.

She slips into a pair of womens shoes and gets the fuck out of there.

She doesn’t know what in the fuck just happened.

And she cant get out of the house fast enough.

But when steps onto the door mat a shard from the crystal ball gets embedded

into her shoe.

It sparkles like a diamond and is taken home by its new owner.

Thanks for taking the time to read my story and if you have the means could you think about making a donation so i can finally reach my goal of being a fulltime writer.Thanks again Steven.

THE END

When Country Was Western

22 Saturday Apr 2017

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My name is Stanley Robinson.

But you might know me by my stage name ‘Swamp Dog’ Robinson.

I had a few minor hits back in the sixties

Everybody told me that i should of made it to the top.

But i didn’t quite make it.

My name is ‘Swamp Dog’ Robinson.

And this is my story.

I was born July 28 1947 in a mean little town.

Not all that far away from Nashville Tennesse

A mean little town where everybody did it tough.

My mother was the head of the house because dad was injured in the war.

She did all that she could to keep the wolves from the door.

We didn’t have any money so we lived with grandpa at his house.

And sometimes he would entertain us by playing his guitar and singing along.

He told that what he was playing was called country and western.

But my mama called it the blues.

I didn’t care what it was called.

I just loved the sound of that guitar and grandpa’s voice

I knew then and there that playing country and western was my career of choice.

I used to sneak into grandpa’s room and fool around with his guitar.

And dream about moving to Nashville and becoming the latest new sensation.

Having girls throwing themselves at my feet.

My songs would be played on all of the radio stations.

I will become inducted in the country and western hall of fame.

And everyone on Earth will scream and know my name.

One night grandpa caught me messing with his guitar.

And he offered to show me how to play.

I quickly learnt all of the basic chords i just couldn’t get enough.

Me and my grandpa were hanging tough.

I practised everyday until my fingers would bleed.

That guitar meant the world to me.

Except of course for mama papa and grandpa to.

But that goes without saying.

I just wanted the world to hear me playing.

For my fifteenth birthday i was given my very own second hand guitar.

And it soon became my pride and joy.

I knew that money was tight and that mama and papa were struggling.

So i gave them a kiss and a hug of thanks.

I loved to watch my fingers move up and down the fret.

I thought to myself ‘ You haven’t heard nothing yet’

I took my guitar to school so i could practise every chance i got.

One day a teacher heard me playing and asked if i wanted to play in the

school band?

I just shrugged my shoulders ‘sure’ but inside my stomach was doing cartwheels.

I was boarding the train of with silver wheels.

So i joined the band and after a week of practise we were ready to play our first show.

But at the last minute the singer got cold feet and quit on the spot.

The teacher started to panic and asked if any of us could sing?

I put my hand up thinking ‘How hard could it be?’

That is when i discovered that i had a voice.

So now i was playing guitar and singing lead.

Unfortunately that is when my ego started to feed.

The school band was good,but i knew that i was better than the others

It was good to play to my family and friends.

But i wanted to play to the masses.

A friend told me about a club that held a talent quest every Thursday night.

So i racked up the courage and went to this seedy little joint

And waited for my chance at the end of the line.

I knew that this was a great opportunity to shine.

When my time came i walked onto the stage as nervous as a kitten.

But i soon turned into a lion and began to roar.

I gave it everything that i had and a whole lot more

I just let the music do the talking

I was only supposed to play one song ,but i ended up doing three.

The noise from the crowd got the adrenaline pumping.

And my ego got a boost that it didn’t really need.

I was floating up on cloud number nine.

But as you know not every cloud has a silver lining.

Sometimes they can turn heavy and black.

I was now walking a very dangerous path.

And there was no going back.

After my set i waited around for the other contestants to do their thing.

And even though i was underage a local bought me a whiskey to calm my nerves.

It filled my stomach with fire but it settled me down.

I licked my lips i really could do with another taste of that soothing liquor.

Looking back now i should have walked out of that door without looking back.

Already my world was beginning to crack.

I won the competition with first prize being a chance to record a demo tape.

That would be sent off to all of the record companies.

An opportunity to hit the big time.

I could tour the world with the likes of Cash.Kristofferson,Rodgers and Cline.

The cream of the crop.

I was too busy living on the edge of tomorrow.

So i didn;t hear the penny drop.

When i arrived at the recording studio first thing i did was visit the bathroom.

The day before i had bought myself a hip flask and filled with Johnny Walker Red.

I sat there and had myself a tiny little sip.

Barely enough to wet my lip.

But it was enough.

I got through the session with flying colours.

A couple of my own songs were put down plus a Jimmy Reeve cover.

I layed them all down in one take i was played like a man possessed.

Feeling rather pleased with myself i snuck off to have another drink.

A toast to my success.

I raised the flask up and ‘God bless’.

My demo was sent off to all of the record labels.

And i was expecting an avalanche of replies.

Instead all i heard was the roaring sound of silence

To say i was disappointed is an under statement in the extreme

But i was still in my teens so all i could do was play the local bars.

I played and played for years waiting for my break.

My drinking was getting out of hand

But it was a crutch that i needed to keep me from going insane

It also helped me to forget my memories and forget the pain.

Than one night i was playing at a local dive trying to make a living.

But still dreaming the dream.

After my set i was sitting at the bar having another glass of temptation

When i felt a tap on my shoulder,i turned to see a guy in a suit.

He told me that he had enjoyed my show and had listened to my old demo.

Would i be interested in a recording contract with Warner Bros ?

He told me that he would drive me to Nashville and i could sign the deal

My dream once again was becoming very real.

After a month of rehearsal and a whole lot of drinking

I entered the studio to record my first album

But the recording session didn’t go so well.

A bottle of whiskey was in my left hand and the microphone in my right.

So we had to play take after take.

I could tell that the session musicians were getting pissed off with my

unprofessional attitude.

But i didn’t really give a shit.

I was a star on the rise it is now my time to shine.

I celebrated with a bottle of whiskey and few glasses of wine.

To my and the record companies surprise the album was a hit.

In the first week it sold over 100.000 copies

And after a month my album was sitting at number 10 on the country and western

chart.

My management quickly arranged an American tour to cash in on the success.

I did interviews after interviews with the music press getting my name out there.

There was also talk of touring Europe Australia and Japan.

I am living the dream i am the main man.

The first show was in Cleveland supporting Waylon Jennings.

We are off to a flying start.

My backing band is red hot and we blow Waylon off the stage.

We travelled from town to town city to city criss crossing the whole country

The headlines were calling me the new kid in town the latest sensation.

I was quickly becoming the toast of the nation.

The tour was a great success until we reached Atlanta Georgia

I walked out onto the stage with my guitar and a bottle of Johnny Walker.

But midway through my set i started to forget the lyrics and i hit a few wrong notes,

The crowd was getting restless and had started to boo.

I gave them the finger and screamed out ‘fuck you’

I was kicked off the tour.

And i went back home with my tail between my legs.

My manager told me that my drinking was really starting ti get out of hand.

And i agreed that i needed to tone it down.

So we came to a compromise,i could have a glass or two before the show.

But nothing while i was onstage.

But inside my alcohol fuelled brain was starting to rage.

After a week of recovery i was reinstated onto the tour.

On the condition that i clean up my act and behave.

I wholeheartedly agreed to their wishes.

My antics at the Atlanta show had made the headlines  and gave my record sales

a boost.

But i knew that if i didn;t behave myself my career would be over.

I would have a shot or two and play and sing with soul.

But i was teetering on the edge of a great big hole.

For the next few years i kept a low profile.

Building up my fan base and keeping out of trouble.

My album sales were steady and a had a couple of hits in my home town.

But don;t think that i have turned into an angel.

Because every now and then i will go on a bender.

That will sometimes last a whole week.

My throat was so hoarse i could barely speak.

Than my manager calls with some good news.

Willie Nelson is coming to town and he wants me to be his support act.

Willie at the time was one of the biggest stars on the planet.

So this is a big chance to kick start my career.

So i will have to be on my best behaviour.

This is the last throw of the dice.

I will never get another shot at the big time if i keep fucking up.

I have to stop drinking from the Devils cup.

After two weeks of rehearsal i am ready for the show.

But instead of the usual two shots i down half the bottle to settle my nerves.

My manager tells that the concert is being filmed for a TV special.

So i sneak a bottle onstage and hide it behind the amps.

Just for a little insurance you have to understand.

I walk onstage the stage with my great little band.

I get a good ovation when i finish the first song.

But by the fifth song my throat is getting dry,

So during the guitar solo i go behind the amps for a little taste.

A voice in my head is screaming  ‘What a fucking waste’

After a few more visits to the bottle i just say fuck it and take the bottle back with me

and put it near my microphone stand.

Like a security blanket.

I have a long slug before i start my final song.

The bottle is almost empty.

My brain is a little blurry and i struggle to remember the words.

The last thing i remember is hearing the jeers and heckles from the crowd.

I start to stumble and fall right off the stage.

My career is over i have reached the final page.

I am now 55 years old and i am still waiting for that phone call that will never come.

I still play guitar and sing country and western.

Or country as they call it now.

I had my chance at stardom but i drank it all away.

My demons are with me and they are here to stay.

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and could you please make a donation so i can reach my goal of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

THE END.

Watermelon Sam

24 Friday Mar 2017

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If you are taking a drive along the lonely roads of southern Arkansas.

You will come across a wobbly old sign ‘Melons For Sale’

But let me give you a word of advice.

Just buy your melons and be on your way.

Better still ignore the sign and keep on going.

And don’t look back.

The owner of the melon farm is a cranky old timer named Sam Hendry.

He has a reputation as a man not to mess with.

But he sure does know his melons

He grows any type of melon that you could ever want.

But watermelons are his speciality.

They are his pride and joy.

Just hand over your money and be on your way

Don’t try to haggle over the price.

Water melon Sam got his nickname when he was a little lad.

He would eat up to ten watermelons every single day.

In fact nobody has ever seen him eat anything else.

He would demolish those melons seeds and all.

As the water ran down his chin Sam would stare off into space.

Rubbing his crotch with a creepy evil grin.

Sam Hendry has loved on the farm all of his life.

It has been in his family for five generations.

But this generation will be the last.

Watermelon Sam is now forty five years old.

And in that time he has never ventured more than fifty miles.

Once a month he drives into town to buy his supplies.

Then he scurries on back home.

The outside world doesn’t interest him at all.

All he wants is to be left alone with his melons.

If you leave him alone he will give you no harm

But if you disturb his isolation he will kill you in a heartbeat.

At fifteen Sam took a life for the first time.

In fact he took two.

He decided that his parents were getting in the way so they had to go.

He tied them to chairs in the kitchen and force fed them watermelon

until they choked.

He got all hard and excited as he watched his mother and father breathe

their last breath.

He never loved his parents when they were alive.

But he smiled and welcomed their death.

He left them tied to the chairs for over a week

Until they started to stink and become over ripe.

Than he buried them out in the water melon patch.

Over the following weeks he watched in amazement as his melons grew

like never before.

Obviously his new fertiliser is working wonders.

Nothing is better for your garden than human blood and bone.

Thirty years later and Sam is digging in his garden when a car drives into the farm.

He hates the intrusion,but at the same time he knows that the tourists supply him

with his needs.

They spend their money and take away a melon and a little taste of his ma and pa.

While others stay behind to supply nutrients for his melons.

You might of heard about the missing tourists on the evening news.

Every few months or so for the last thirty years.

A tourist has gone missing in Southern Arkansas.

The last tourist went missing three days ago.

Michael Tomkins was a businessman from Kansas who was on his way

home to his family.

But he made a huge mistake he decided to stop at a farm to buy some melons.

Watermelon Sam heard the car drive arrive and came to the decision that this tourist wasn’t going home.

So he put a smile on his face and acted real nice as the guy got out of his car.

‘Howdy there what can i do for ya? Michael is a little taken aback by this odd looking

old man.

But he smiles and says ‘Just a few Melons to take back to Kansas’

Watermelon Sam shows him over to the melon patch and tells the tourist to pick out the

melons that he wants.

Right in the middle of the patch is a freshly dug hole seven foot long and three foot deep.

Michael turns and asks and Sam ‘What is that hole for? Are you going to bury a dead calf?

Watermelon Sam shakes his head and says ‘No,I am going to bury a dead human’

It takes a second for the words to compute in Michael’s brain.

He goes to run but he doesn’t get very far.

Watermelon Sam picks up a pitchfork and runs it through Michael’s stomach.

Michael wriggles like fish on the end of a hook.

The pitchfork is stuck fast so Sam walks him over to the hole and drops him in.

Blood is gurgling from the tourists mouth but Sam couldn’t care less.

He puts his foot on his chest and after a struggle the pitchfork comes free.

Words are coming from the mouth of the dying man .

Sam doesn’t listen he covers him in three feet of dirt and walks away.

Sam is feeling mighty pleased with himself.

He is sitting on his front porch looking out over his garden.

If he owned a banjo he would be playing it right now.

But his hands are full.

He is devouring yet another watermelon.

He eats that melon like a man possessed.

But he is eating way too fast and one of the seeds goes down the wrong way.

Sam starts to choke he coughs and hacks trying to bring up that seed.

But all he achieves is to swallow that seed even further.

But at least he can breathe normally again.

Sam has no idea what is happening inside his body.

That seed has lodged inside his gut and has started to germinate.

A few days later Sam is starting to feel unwell and a bit bloated.

He hasn’t been to the toilet for two days.

He is backed up all the way to hell.

Sam rally needs to poo.

He stumbles around his watermelon patch like a crazy man.

Than he feels a tickle from his arsehole.

Maybe there is some relief after all.

He pulls down his pants and squats over his blessed earth.

A watermelon root sprouts from his arse and makes a bee line into the

dirt.

Sam tries to stand but he is stuck fast.

Mire roots appear from every orifice in his body.

Sam starts to panic.

Maybe if he can take a shit he can escape from this torture?

So he pushes and strains trying to open his bowels.

Sam is sweating with the effort God am i am shitting a bowling Ball?’

It isn’t a bowling ball but a huge watermelon.

Sams arsehole is stretched to the limit.

Then it snaps.

The watermelon plops out quickly followed by his intestines and something

that might be his colon or prostate.

Sam starts to pray and ask for forgiveness.

But it is way too little way too fucking late.

All of the roots have travelled down his body and taken anchor.

For watermelon Sam there is to be no escape.

Another root has sprouted from his shrivelled cock and out of his piss hole.

And it buries itself into the ground.

As Sam struggles for his life a hundred pair of hands appear from the tainted

earth.

His mother and father pull the hardest.

They want to make sure that their son cant hurt anybody else.

They pull and pull all the way down to the earths core.

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and if you have the means could you make a donation so i can reach my goal of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

THE END

Nasty Piece Of Work

18 Saturday Feb 2017

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I live the lifestyle of the rich and famous.

Even though i have no money of my own.

I am 37 years old now and i haven’t worked a day

in my life.

I eat the rich and lay around all day.

Why should i work when other people can pay my way?

I was born under a full moon on Friday the 13th 1981.

My parents have told me that i was born bad.

And that i have been an arsehole ever since.

But i don’t care what other people think.

I just do what i please.

I just chop and chop until i bring them to their knees.

My devious ways got worse when i started school.

When i had a hundred other kids to pick clean.

They never knew what was happening.

I used every trick in the book to line my pockets.

I cheated at marbles and used stand over tactics.

And soon my pockets were overflowing with their lunch money.

And sometimes i even ate their lunch as well.

School can be good but i made it a living hell.

At high school i didn’t worry about playing games to get money.

I just used my fists and size to get what i wanted.

But fighting is hard work i used to work up a sweat.

Why couldn’t my family have money and live in the right

neighbourhood.

But y’know i kind of like being bad.

Fuck being good.

I have become a despised little jerk.

A real nasty piece of work.

After i finished school i was at a bit of a loose end.

I didn’t know what to do with myself.

I could get a job and make an honest living.

Or i could lay around smoking some weed.

Thinking of ways to spend other peoples money.

Why should i have to go to work and get my hands dirty.

My goal is to stay unemployed and retire when i am thirty.

At sixteen my hormones are raging

So i started to check out the local girls.

And they were giving me the loving eye.

But i knew that i had to aim higher if i was to reach my

objective.

Which is to make a lot of money without a lot of effort.

So i caught a bus (without paying) all the way to Caulfield

Heights.

Where all the rich people live.

I am all about taking i never fucking give.

They say love conquers all

But all i want is sex and some easy cash.

I just hope that i don’t end up with and empty wallet and a nasty

little rash.

At the local mall i take a seat in a coffee shop and wait for my prey.

And soon enough a girl walks in dressed up like a movie star.

She will do nicely.

She takes a seat across from me all ripe for the picking.

I give her my lovey dovey eyes a she smiles back .

She has taken the bait hook line and sinker.

And pretty soon we are sitting close together.

I move in for the kill hell bent for leather.

She tells me that her name is Cindy and that her family owns

half of the town.

And she offers to buy me a cup of coffee.

Well Cindy will pay for the coffee and a whole lot more.

I am going to reach into for soul and pull on her heart strings.

And i will not stop until the fat lady starts to sing.

I lean in close and tell Cindy a sob story.

About how i was kicked out of home and how i am struggling

to land on my feet.

Cindy sits there with her mouth open swallowing every word.

I cant believe this girl is so gullible

She offers to buy me lunch and provide a shoulder to lean on.

How can i refuse such an offer?

I eat and eat until i am ready to burst.

Just like a vampire with insatiable thirst.

I really am a jerk

A nasty piece of work.

Only sixteen and already i am on the road to ruin.

I don’t even try to be good.

Words tumble from Cindy’s mouth but i barely listen.

I am only interested in myself.

I just want to fill my pockets with ill gotten gains.

Who gives a shit for other peoples thoughts or pain?

Cindy is a sweet girl.

She deserves someone better than me.

I have’t listened to a word she has said.

All i want is to get my hands on her money

I will beg borrow or steal and bleed her dry.

I will leave nothing behind but an empty shell

Hello Cindy welcome to my hell.

Cindy stands up and says she has to visit the bathroom.

So why don’t i pay the bill whilst she is away.

She hands me her credit card and i go to the counter to pay.

But than i have second thoughts.

I walk out of the door and keep on walking.

As i walk down the street i reach into my pocket and pull out

a razor sharp switchblade knife.

Cindy will never know how close she came to dying today.

This time i gave her a break.

But the next time i want be so fucking nice.

Someone in my travels is going to pay a very heavy price.

So keep an eye out.

Because i could be headed your way.

If you see me coming.

Run as fast as you can

I really am a jerk.

A nasty piece of work.

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and if you have the means could you please make a donation so i can finally reach my dream of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

THE  END.

Lowest At My Highest

04 Saturday Feb 2017

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I pick at a scab on my face until it bleeds

And my skin is a nasty shade of yellow

Most of my teeth have fallen out

The drugs are starting to take a heavy toll

 

I am constantly scratching.

And my clothes reek of urine and desperation

I would do anything for a shower.

And to fall asleep in a nice warm bed.

I cant remember the last time that i ate a home cooked meal.

But first i have to score.

 

But my pockets contain nothing but a few coins and a shitload

of lint.

All i can do is walk the streets and wait for an opportunity.

And i don’t have to wait long.

 

Just up ahead a lady is enjoying a coffee at an outdoor cafe.

I am about to ruin her day big time.

She has made a huge mistake.

She has left her handbag sitting on the chair beside her.

Just waiting to be snatched.

 

She sees me approaching.

And i act like an normal person just going about my day.

And the lady doesn’t see the threat and looks away.

Just then i run forward grab that bag and take off.

I am gone before she can even cry out.

 

I go to my spot beneath a bridge to count the takings.

A total of five hundred and twenty dollars.

Enough to keep me going for a while.

 

My local supplier is waiting for me with everything that i need.

A little something to keep the wolves at bay.

Another trip to my so called paradise.

As the drugs take over my body.

I feel myself flying as high as a kite.

But at the same time i am feeling mighty low.

I always feel the lowest at my highest.

Ashamed of all the crimes that i have committed just to feed my

addiction.

I hang my head in shame.

But i know that i will have to score again tomorrow.

 

My name is Owen and i am now 24 years old.

And i have been using drugs since i was thirteen.

My parents were constantly fighting hurling abuse at each other.

So i escaped to the local park

Where i smoked dope to calm my nerves.

And i drank beer to drown my sorrows.

 

Well dope and beer are still my companions.

But now ice is my drug of choice.

It takes me to another dimension another space in time.

When i take i live on the very edge of existence.

Like sliding down the edge of a knife.

That is my life.

That is Ice.

 

I know that because of my appearance that i stick out like a sore

thumb.

But at the same time i can be invisible.

People look at me with a mixture sadness and loathing.

To them i am just another harmless bum.

But i will strike like a cobra when i need to feed my gremlins.

 

And right now my gremlins are hungry.

Every minute of every day all i think about is buying drugs.

My muscles twitch and my pores release the night sweats.

I cant sleep at night because of the constant cravings.

Only the drugs can bring me some sort of relief.

 

The money that i stole is almost gone.

So i decide to visit my grand mother for a meal.

And maybe a loan that i will never re pay

Gran knows that i have a drug problem.

And she has tried to get me help again and again.

But i always tell her the same old bullshit ‘Don’t worry gran

i can stop anytime that i want’

I have told her that lie so many times.

That sometimes i even start to believe it.

 

When gran answers the door.

I cant help but notice the look that she gives me.

A mixture of love pity and hate.

But i don’t blame her at all i have let her down so many times

over the years.

 

We chat away about family and stuff.

But the conversation always turns to my addictions.

As gran talks i block her out.

I know that she means well.

But i don’t need a lecture right now.

All i need is some money to buy my drugs.

I have stolen from gran in the past.

And i will do it again today.

 

When gran visits the bathroom.

I sneak into her bedroom and rummage around looking for jewellery

and money.

When i find what i need i call out goodbye to gran and walk out the

door.

 

After visiting my supplier.

I go to my favourite spot under the bridge.

To satisfy my needs and wants.

As i fly above the clouds i cant help but to think about gran.

She deserves a better grand son than me.

All she wants to do is help but i keep pushing her away.

Again i am feeling the lowest at my highest.

This fucking Ice has really got a grip on me.

And it isn’t letting go anytime soon.

 

A few days later gran’s money is almost gone.

So i head off towards my last resort.

Back to the park that i first visited when i was thirteen.

In the back corner is the public toilets.

Where i give blow jobs for $50 a go.

God i am not even high but i am feeling mighty low.

 

I now have enough money to last me about a week.

I even buy some food and some clean clothes from the salvation

army.

Where i start talking to the girl behind the counter.

Her name is Melissa and she offers to help me in any way that she

can.

 

I thank her for the offer ‘But i don’t need any help’

‘I am just going through a bad patch’

 

Once again i lie to myself and to people who want to help.

 

About a week later i leave my spot under the bridge.

On my endless quest to find money and drugs.

I am thinking about my situation so i don’t hear a group of thugs

coming up behind me.

I remember getting king hit and laying on the ground being

repeatedly kicked and stomped on.

Thankfully i don’t remember anything after that.

 

I wake up in a hospital a few days later.

With a fractured skull  and eye socket.

A few broken ribs and i am bruised from head to toe.

 

I don’t get any visitors.

Everybody gave up on me years ago.

And as i lie in that bed my addiction is crying out for attention.

I need to get out of here and fast.

As i am looking around for my clothes and a way to escape.

A girl enters my room wearing my room wearing a salvation army

uniform.

 

It is Melissa the girl from op shop who is going from room to room

visiting the sick and the lonely.

She recognises me and tells me that her offer still stands

If i want help all i have to do is ask.

I tell her ‘Thanks but no thanks i will be fine’

 

All i can think about is Ice.

And how to get my hands on some.

I know that i need help but i need the drugs more.

I must have been hallucinating.

And to this day i don’t know why i said it.

But i looked at Melissa as she was walking out the door.

And i silently screamed one word HELP.

 

I spent the next six months in rehab.

Getting rid of my demons and addictions.

It wasn’t easy.

I almost walked out the door a thousand times

But i thought about my family and friends that i have let

down badly over the years.

Especially my gran who i love dearly.

 

I walked out of rehab clean and sober.

Ready to start my life all over again.

I will need to find myself a job and somewhere to stay.

But firstly i need to visit my gran and apologise and being such

a bad grand son.

 

But i have to make a small detour first.

I go to my favourite spot under the bridge.

And i start to dig.

About a foot down i uncover what i have buried there.

An old biscuit tin that contains my treasured items.

Amongst all my stuff is grans jewellery that i just couldn’t

bring myself to hock.

 

I hold that tin close to my chest and walk towards gran’s  house.

 

I knock on the front door.

Not knowing what to expect.

She opens the door and her eyes light up ‘Oh Owen i thought you

must of overdosed or something’.

I walk in and put the biscuit tin on the table.

And i tell gran to open it.

 

She is surprised  to see her jewellery inside “I thought i would

never see these again’

“They aren’t worth much but they mean the world to me’

 

I tell gran about my time in rehab.

And how i have been stealing from her for years.

She just smiles ” I know i have been waiting for you to clean yourself

up and be a good person again.”

‘Welcome back’

 

If you are having problems with drugs or alcohol.

GET HELP.

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and now if you have the means could you please make a donation so i can reach my goal of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

The Stain

14 Saturday Jan 2017

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Martha Abercrombie has lived in Bangor Maine her whole life.

She recently lost her husband of forty years and is at a loose end.

She is lonely and she desperately needs something to occupy her

mind.

 

For over thirty years on her way to work she has driven past the house

of author Stephen King.

But it is another house that has caught her attention.

 

The house is a two storey monstrocity  that has clearly seen better days.

A faded old For Sale sign sits in the front yard.

It has been there for as long as Martha can remember.

 

One day Martha stops at the rusty old sign and saves the Real Estate

phone number into her mobile phone.

It is a pity that Martha doesn’t drive another route to work.

Than she would never have seen the house.

Because there is a very good reason why the house has stood vacant

for over twenty years.

 

The house is situated at 16 Balcomb Lane is shrouded by overgrown

shrubs weeds and a nasty reputation.

Originally built in 1900 by a doctor and his young family.

Who travelled all the way from Scotland to start a new life.

 

Doctor McIntosh his wife Stella and their children six year old

Prudence and little Colin a chubby four year old.

The family were excited when they finally moved into their new house

on 1st March 1900.

 

But one thing bothered Stella right from the start.

An ugly stain on the living room wall

Despite all of her scrubbing that stain just wouldn’t go away.

So finally Stella gave up and hung a family portrait over the stain and

forgot all about it.

 

Stella should have left the stain alone.

It has laid dormant for over one hundred years.

Now it has been awoken.

And it isn’t happy.

 

A month after the family moved into the house little Prudence was

spotted arriving home from school.

And since that day not one member of the McIntosh has ever been seen

again.

It is like they just disappeared into thin air.

 

The house stood empty until 1919 when another family moved in.

And than promptly vanished.

A radio was playing songs of the day.

The table was set with plates piled high with food.

Food that was never eaten.

Another family has disappeared without trace.

 

From 1932 to 1970 a total of eight families have lived in that

house.

38 people have vanished into the dust.

 

The neighbours cross the street when they come to the house.

Their is talk of a local Native American tribe laying a curse.

Their are whispers of witchcraft and of sausquatch  coming down

from the mountains.

 

In 1971 the house was demolished and every single piece of that house

was taken away and burnt.

The land stood vacant until 1986 when a new house was built.

The house was blessed by the local priest.

And a lovely young couple moved in.

 

But all of the activity has once again awoken the stain.

 

The same day as the family moved in the brand new house started to

fall apart.

The brickwork and shingles crumbled and fell to the ground

The wiring exploded in a shower of sparks.

While the plumbing leaked dirty water and sewage through out the

house.

 

The new house is transforming back into the old house.

And for the first time there is talk amongst the neighbours about

a strange stain.

 

The lady of the house a Mrs Penelope Lomax told them of a stain on the

living room wall.

It was the size and shape of a human face and the colour of blood.

And despite constant scrubbing and cleaning the stain just wouldn’t go away.

 

A month later Mrs Lomax was seen at her kitchen window.

But after that Penelope and her husband were never seen again.

 

Once more Martha Abercrombie is driving past the house at 16 Balcomb

Lane.

When she comes to a fateful decision.

After work she stops at the real estate office and makes an enquiry about the

house.

The agent is shocked by the question.

No one has asked about that house in over twenty years.

 

But she puts a smile on her face and offers to show Martha the house anytime

that suits.

They arrange to meet at the house at four o’clock the following afternoon.

 

So they meet the next day and Cathy Simpkins the agent walks with Martha

towards the front door.

But it is obvious that she is scared out of her mind.

Martha asks what is wrong and Cathy comes clean and tells Martha all about

the disappearances  that has occurred since 1900.

 

In the back of her mind Martha remembers reading about the missing people.

But this all happened years ago and this house is a renovators dream.

She decides that she has to have this house.

 

The estate agent refuses to go inside.

She opens the front door and tells Martha to take her time.

Martha walks in and feels a chill down her spine.

She goes from room to room and she like what she sees.

All of the rooms are spacious with high ceilings.

But it is obvious that the house needs a lot of work.

But she has to have it and signs the contract on the spot.

 

As Martha is signing the contract back at the cars a stain appears on

the living room wall.

It is barely visible but it is there.

 

For the next six months contractors come and go renovating the house

from top to bottom.

The wiring and plumbing is completely replaced

The house is gutted from roof to the basement fully renovated from top

to bottom.

 

Behind the living room wall the stain is shimmering in a rage.

Once again it has been disturbed.

 

Martha has finally moved into her new house and is enjoying a glass

of wine.

She cant believe how happy she is and how cheap the house was.

Life is perfect.

 

A week after moving in Martha is sitting on her couch reading the latest

Stephen King novel.

When her eyes are drawn to the living room wall.

A blood red stain is seeping through the paint.

 

Martha gets out of her chair for a closer look.

The stain looks like a human face.

Martha shakes her head ‘God my imagination sure is working overtime’.

She goes to the liquor cabinet and pours herself a large whiskey.

Than she walks back towards the stain.

 

It is definently a face.

The eyes of the stain seem to be looking back at her.

Martha’s spine tingles and her bladder starts to leak.

Despite herself she has another look at the stain.

The face is developing you can now make out all of the features.

It appears to be the face of a middle aged woman.

 

Martha pours herself another whiskey as she decides what to do.

But there really is only one decision to make.

So Martha grabs her car keys and runs toward the front door.

 

But a voice stops her in her tracks ‘Come and join me Martha and we can

be together forever’

Martha is shell shocked and her bladder empties completely.

She tries to run but her legs wont move.

Instead they turn back towards the stain.

 

Foot by foot her legs walk towards the stain until she is only five feet away.

Her legs move even closer.

Until she is standing face to face with the stain.

She waits for it to speak again.

 

But this time it doesn’t speak.

It attacks.

Two arms are thrust through the wall and enclose Martha in a bear hug.

She tries to resist but it is of no use.

Martha feels herself being pulled into the stain.

 

She struggles with all of her might.

But she cant fight off the stain.

She is dragged down to the basement and beyond.

Down to an old cemetery full of old tombstones.

Next to one of the graves is a freshly dug hole with a new tombstone.

Martha Abercrombie

Born 18 October 1944

Died 13 January 2017

RIP

The stain has fully engulfed Martha and is walking Martha backwards

until she is teetering on the edge.

Martha can smell and taste her own fear.

 

The stain whispers ‘Goodbye Martha welcome to death’

Martha fulls six feet down and lands on her back.

She is quickly covered in dirt until Martha is no more.

The sound of silence is deafening.

 

The house at 16 Balcomb Lane is up for sale again.

If you have the deposit the house can be yours.

It has been freshly painted inside and out.

The perfect place for a loving family

Or first home buyer.

 

All ready to move in.

Without a blemish or stain in sight.

 

But looks can be deceiving

 

THE END.

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The Cranky Christmas Tinsel

24 Saturday Dec 2016

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Up in the corner of the living room hangs a cranky piece of tinsel.

It is a week before Christmas 2016 the piece of tinsel has been hanging

there all lonesome for almost a year.

 

He doesn’t understand why he has been left hanging there in solitude.

When all the other decorations and ornaments were packed away all nice

and snug.

Yet here he hangs covered in cobwebs and a shitload of dust.

 

There is movement below him.

And he is pleased to see the owner of the house putting up the Christmas

tree.

And start to decorate it in all sorts of baubels silver balls and stars and a

thousand xmas lights.

With an angel placed on top.

 

The cranky Christmas tinsel is surprised when a step ladder is positioned

below him.

And the owner of the house removes a push pin and carries him towards the

tree.

Where he is draped over a branch or two right in front and centre.

 

The cranky Christmas tinsel would be smiling right now if he could.

He cant believe his luck

Now he is in the perfect spot to have some fun and a little bit of mischief.

 

The family cat wanders in and starts sniffing around the base of the tree.

The cranky Christmas decoration watches the cat and wills it to climb.

But the cat couldn’t be bothered with climbing it arches  its back and jumps

right on up.

 

The Christmas tree starts to sway as the cat wrestles among the branches

in a tangle of Christmas lights.

The cranky Christmas unwraps itself reaches down and flips the light

switch.

 

The cat screams like a banshee on heat and runs from the room destroying

everything in its path blowing smoke signals from its arse.

Now i am not a Native American so the smoke signals are hard to read

But i think it says something like ‘Holy  fucking shit’

 

Smokey the Cats fur now stands permanently on end and it will forever

have a surprised look on his face.

 

Smokey was last seen hitch hiking out town.

But i am sure that he will be back one day.

 

 

The cranky Christmas is hanging in the tree feeling mighty fine.

He looks to the kitchen table where the owner of the house is enjoying

a glass of eggnog.

She is the reason why he is so cranky.

How dare she leave him hanging all year like a forgotten sock.

And the last thing you want in your house is a cranky Christmas tinsel.

 

The cranky Christmas tinsel senses movement from the corner of his eye.

And when he looks there is a black spider building a web in his fibres.

He used to be clean tucked away all tidy in a box.

But now he is green mean and mighty unclean.

 

He eyes that spider and an idea forms in his mind.

He contorts his body into the shape pf a slingshot and fires.

The spider tumbles through the air straight towards the kitchen table.

And lands with a plop right into that cup of eggnog.

 

The owner of the house is startled and when she looks down she is

surprised to see a spider doing the backstroke .

She loses control of her eggnog and it splashes between her ample cleavage.

Along with the spider.

 

I think her scream was heard from more than five miles away.

She ran around the house tearing off her clothes in a wild panic.

And naked she races into the backyard and dives into the pool.

 

The spider swims to the side and climbs out feeling rather pleased with

himself.

Than he walks back to the Christmas tree and his web on the cranky

Christmas tree.

 

After almost drowning the owner of the house retires to her room with

her two trusted companions.

A bottle of bourbon and a pack of cigarettes.

 

The cranky Christmas tinsel is as happy as Larry as he basks under the

Christmas lights.

He loves hanging front and centre surrounded by inferior decorations.

Than he is distracted by a noise coming from the fireplace.

And in a cloud of soot a big red arse emerges.

 

It is that old man with the white beard all the way from the North Pole.

He is carrying some weight and a great big sack.

First stop is the side table where he fills up on milk and cookies.

Than he goes to the Christmas tree takes the presents from his sack

and arranges them under the tree.

 

The cranky Christmas tinsel is watching Santa’s every move.

And when Santa bends over he cant help to notice that Santa’s pants

are riding low.

He is showing more crack than a freeway after an earthquake.

The cranky Christmas decides to have some fun.

He dangles down from the tree and tickles Santa’s crack.

 

Well Santa jumped higher than an Olympic pole vaulter .

And after he scraped himself from the ceiling he squeezed back up the

Chimney

And got the fuck out of there.

 

The next few days run smoothly.

The owner of the house has some family and friends over to help

celebrate the festive season.

She relaxes and enjoys life for a few days.

Than it is time to go back to work.

 

Two weeks later the owner of the house decides that it is time to pull

down the tree.

She fills box after box with all of her decorations and lights.

 

The cranky Christmas tinsel is still hanging on the tree when the owner

of the house returns with another empty box.

She the cranky Christmas tinsel and bends down to place him into the

box.

But she is clumsy and drops the cranky Christmas tinsel and somehow

kicks it under the lounge.

 

The cranky Christmas tinsel cant fucking believe it.

He wanted to be packed away in hibernation for a year.

But instead here he is under the couch with dead cockroaches stray coins

and an assortment of crumbs.

 

But he isn’t too worried he is confident that the owner of the house will

notice and pack him away all safe and sound.

Than he feels a tug from behind.

He looks back and sees a pair of green eyes.

 

Smokey the cat is back from his road trip.

And he wants the cranky Christmas tinsel to pay.

He chews the cranky Christmas tinsel like he is a tasty chicken bone.

And he keeps on chewing until the cranky Christmas tinsel is no more.

 

A few days later smokey the cat walked up to the owner of the house.

And when she bent down to give him a pat he coughed and spluttered

and out came a nasty looking cranky Christmas tinsel fur ball.

 

MERRY CHRISTMAS

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and now if you could make a donation to help me reach my goal of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

The Affliction

17 Saturday Dec 2016

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The first documented case of the affliction occurred on 1st March

2017.

When a baby girl named Elizabeth was born at the Royal Prince Albert

hospital Sydney at 2 pm.

 

She appeared to be normal in every way weighing a normal four pounds.

But there was one thing that was unusual about baby Elizabeth.

A strange birthday looking birthmark located in the middle of her

birthmark.

It is the size of a dollar coin and the colour of port wine.

 

The doctors weren’t that concerned.

And Elizabeth was handed to her loving mother.

 

 

Than word came through that a baby born in New York City had the

same strange mark on his forehead.

By the minute every hospital the world over started to report the birth

of babies born with a port wine birthmark in the middle of their

foreheads.

 

The authorities are all baffled by this weird happening?

How can every baby born be tainted by the same affliction?

Does it signal the second coming of Christ?

Has an alien impregnated all of the mothers?

Or is it just a strange anomaly?

 

After a weeks stay in the hospital baby Elizabeth is finally taken home.

Besides the ugly birthmark she appears to be a normal healthy baby

girl.

 

But soon after arriving home Elizabeth becomes silent and morose.

Her mother Jane is worried that her baby might have a fever or something

more serious.

But Elizabeth drinks her milk with gusto and has plenty of wind.

Maybe she is just teething?

Jane sits up every night feeding her baby and changing diapers.

She is a loving mother and she tries hard to bond with her baby.

But in the three months since her birth Elizabeth hasn’t smiled once.

Her face has remained expressionless.

 

As she feeds her daughter she strokes her hair but there is no response

from her baby.

But there is a response and it comes from the affliction.

It is now big red and shiny and the size of a snooker ball.

 

Jane’s eyes are drawn to the affliction.

And even though it sounds crazy.

She is certain that the affliction is observing her.

She tries not to look but she cant resist a little peek.

And when she looks at the affliction she is powerless to look away.

The affliction delves deep into Jane’s mind and removes all of her

brain activity.

 

Jane is still alive but she is no longer a functioning human bean.

She is now nothing more than a milk delivery system.

A slave to her baby and the affliction.

 

A small smile forms on the lips of baby Elizabeth as she suckles on

her brain dead mother’s nipple.

After all she is a growing girl and needs her nourishment.

She cant wait to go onto solids.

 

All over the globe people begin to wander the streets like a pack

of zombies.

They just walk around with nowhere to go.

They lose all control of their bodily functions and soon the streets are

slippery with human faeces.

 

It doesn’t take long for disease and pestilence to take hold.

Cholera and diptheria  are rampant.

And soon pockets of civilisation begin to disappear.

 

Elizabeth is growing rapidly as she continues to drink her milk.

Jane is compliant she is now just a living shell.

She just stares at the affliction as her daughter feeds.

 

But the milk supply will soon run out because Jane is no longer eating.

Elizabeth has been expecting this eventuality.

It is now time to switch to solids.

Elizabeth smiles and bites down hard.

 

Jane doesn’t feel any pain as her daughter bites off her nipple.

Than proceeds to devour the whole breast.

Jane looks down at her daughter as she is being eaten alive.

She watches as her blood runs down her stomach and starts to pool

on the floor.

Elizabeth takes another bite and her mothers blood runs down her

chin.

Jane wipes her daughters face and than she dies.

 

All over the world mothers fathers and siblings of the afflicted babies

are all being eaten alive.

Anybody that has looked into the affliction is now nothing more than food.

If this keeps up whole populations will be totally wiped out.

 

Baby Elizabeth continues to feed as her mothers body decays.

When the body has been reduced to nothing but skin and bone.

Elizabeth crawls out of the house and onto the street.

She approaches a storm water drain and crawls right in.

She crawls way down deep below the sewer.

And she waits.

 

 

 

Afflicted babies the world over have made their way into the sewers.

They can barely crawl after feasting on human flesh.

The affliction is very pleased with itself.

It has achieved its objective but it still wants more.

 

Part Two is coming soon so come back if you dare.

And before you go to bed tonight don’t forget to check the toilet water

Because one day the affliction will re-appear.

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and now could you please make a donation and help me reach my goal of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven