stevenjohnstonblog

~ Short stories about anything and everything

stevenjohnstonblog

Tag Archives: supernatural

‘Are You Afraid Of The Dark?’

11 Friday Oct 2024

Posted by stevenjohnno in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

badness, book-blog, books, dank, dark, darkness, family, fantasy, horror, kidnapped, miami, mineshaft, reviews, supernatural, worms

This story is about a small girl who was abducted back in 2004 and for some reason the perpetrator kept her alive in a dank place that tortured the soul of the innocent girl.

The darkness and loneliness are slowly but surely eating away at her sanity but 9 year old Jessica Campbell from North Haven Miami is determined to stay alive to make sure that the creep who took her away from her family will pay a heavy price for his crime.

It is now 2007 and Jessica Campbell is still hanging on by a thread…….

‘Hello is anybody out there?’

Jessica whimpers when she gets no reply, the cold and the damp are taking a toll plus the scant amount of food that her captor supplies her with every day or so is barely enough but the wish to escape to see her parents again is the driving force that keeps her going from day to day.

The darkness is so dense Jessica’s body clock has no idea if it is night or day plus the stench of her own waste is almost too much to bare but on the bright side Jessica’s hearing has improved immensely so the sound of water dripping nearby is music to her ears plus her amplified hearing makes it easy for her to catch cockroaches when they scurry within reach.

The crunchy critters are hard to swallow but the meat they provide her with must needed sustenance if she is to survive her ordeal.

Jessica knows that it must be years since she was put down in this hellhole with no one to talk to except the voices of her mom and dad telling her to knuckle down and come back home to them ‘I will and the asshole who took me pay with his life.’

‘God knows what I must look like’ the now twelve year old muses ‘I haven’t washed so I must stink like a mule, my hair is so long and full of tangles just like Cousin Itt.’

‘Okay thanks for phoning me Missus Campbell, I understand that it has been a distressing last three years for you and your family and I assure that I will do everything in my power to help locate your missing daughter.’

After ending the phone call Wendy Gatton an investigative crime reporter for the Miami Tribune Goggles the name Jessica Campbell to get more information on her disappearance.

32 year old Wendy is a tall white woman with short black hair who is known for her innate ability to write factual stories that have boosted daily sales of the newspaper but more importantly for Wendy her research has helped the local authorities solve heinous crimes.

Wendy spends every spare hour working the case and 48 hours later she believes she has uncovered enough evidence to run a full front page story on the case, now all she has to do is convince the papers crime editor to print her story.

She discovered that seven other young girls besides Jessica Campbell went missing in northern Florida and just over the border in Georgia between 2002-2004.

All of the girls have long brown hair and they were also taken outside of their schools at around 3.20 in the afternoon.

Is it possible that the authorities in both states haven’t been in communication with each other concerning the missing girls?

At 9am the next morning Brian Freebody the crime editor for the Miami Tribune strolls past Wendy’s desk on his way to his office wearing a custom made grey cotton suit and cowboy boots and today he is sporting a $500 hair cut. ‘Jesus what a show pony’ Wendy muses ‘One day he will trip over his ego and crash back down to earth with a thud.’

Wendy gives her boss fifteen minutes to settle in before knocking on his office door ‘Good morning sir, I have been working on a story for a few days and I believe that the public deserve to see it.’

Sitting behind his desk Freebody looks up at Wendy ‘That is good Wendy, just leave it here and I will peruse it later.’

‘Alright Brian but my story concerns a mother who’s daughter has been missing for three years, plus seven other young girls are also missing so time is of the essence.’

‘I am sure that your story will be of the highest quality like all of your other stories but I haven’t got time to read it right this minute because I have a meeting upstairs with the editor-in-chief Carly Simonson so go back work now and I will call you back in here later today.’

For the next four hours Wendy works on another story silently fuming that her asshole editor still hasn’t got back to her but then just on lunchtime Freebody calls her back into his office ‘Sorry to keep you waiting Wendy, take a seat, well I read your story and I have to say that it doesn’t reach your normal standard of journalism.’

‘What are you talking about Brian? It is a hard hitting story that lets the public know that maybe there is a serial killer in our midst plus the parents of all the missing girls need to know that they haven’t been forgotten and what about the newspaper sales my stories generate?’

‘I appreciate that Wendy but your story lacks substance, go and work on it and I might print your piece next week’.

‘Next week? It will be too late by then, Jessica Campbell and some of the other girls might still be alive.’

‘Get a grip Wendy, three years have passed since the girls went missing so the chances of any of the girls are still alive is less than zero.’

‘And Missus Gratton you seem to have forgotten that I am in charge here not you, now leave my office before you are put on suspension.’

Wendy is close to tears as she stands ‘I can see that you are upset Wendy so take the rest of the day off and think about your position here at the newspaper.’

After storming out Wendy quickly unlocks her car and drives out of the underground carpark in a huff but as soon as she hits the freeway Wendy realizes that she had left her story on Freebody’s desk but there is no way in hell that she will go back and grab it because Wendy knows that she might strangle the obnoxious prick of an editor.

Once home Wendy pours herself a glass of wine before booting up her laptop.

She can’t get forget Jessica Campbell’s mother’s pleading phone call yesterday, the distress in her voice was palpable and it left Wendy numb.

Sitting in front of her computer Wendy racks her brain for some inspiration but nothing comes to mind so she pulls up a map of Florida and Georgia and leans in close to really study the map where the kidnappings took place and immediately she notices numerous abandoned mines scattered around both states.

Feeling a little better Wendy phones Captain Michael Brady her police contact at Dade County.

”Well if it isn’t Wendy Gratton herself, have you won a Pulitzer Prize yet?

Wendy smiles ‘Not yet Mike, would it be possible to meet somewhere tonight? I am working on a missing person’s case and I really need your help.

After telling Brady all about how her editor refused to publish her story about Jessica Campbell and the other missing girls and her theory about the abandoned mines the pair agree to meet at Dolphins beach cafe at eight o’clock.

After locking her apartment Wendy walks over to a nearby news stand to buy a copy of the Tribune’s late edition but when she gets closer the headline ‘SERIAL KILLER?’ screams out at her.

‘Brian Freebody, this time you have gone too far.’

Tucking the paper in her bag Wendy makes her way towards the shoreline with her anger growing stronger every second.

Reaching Dolphin Beach Wendy strolls into the cafe and takes a seat at a table looking out at the tumbling waves but she doesn’t take in the pleasant vista.

When the waiter brings her espresso Wendy thanks him before laying the Tribune on the table than she reads the front page feature story and aside from a few minor changes the story is exactly as she wrote it ‘Just you wait until I get into the office tomorrow Freebody because the doo doo is going to hit the fan.’

A few minutes later Captain Mike Brady arrives, Wendy stands and gives her friend a hug ‘I haven’t ordered yet Mike, get what you want because I will be putting the bill on my work expenses card.’

They both order a cheeseburger with fries plus a pot of coffee and as they wait Wendy tells Mike about the missing girls ‘Jessica Campbell’s mother rang me the other day worried that her daughter’s case might have been forgotten so I told her that I would look into it.’

I am familiar with the case Wendy and I assure you that one of my officers is working on it but there aren’t that many leads to go on.’

Wendy grabs her cell phone from her bag and shows Mike the picture of the abandoned mines bordering both Florida and Georgia ‘I am aware of these mines Wendy but I haven’t got the resources to search them all plus and I don’t mean to sound callous but it has been three years so it would most likely be a recovery effort.’

‘I realize that Mike but couldn’t a K9 unit search the mines closest to where Jessica went missing because there are only four or five of them I think.’

Down in the mine shaft Jessica’s physical health has improved slightly because she has been able to catch plenty of worms, crickets and cockroaches to keep hunger at bay plus with all the moisture in the shaft Jessica has been able to quench her thirst but the darkness and the cold has sapped her mental strength significantly to almost breaking point.

The next morning arrives early waiting for Freebody to make an entrance and when he does Jessica is hot on his tail entering his office before he can close the door ‘Good morning Brian, do you remember yesterday when you told to ‘Think about my position here at the paper? Well i have taken your advice and I have come to the conclusion that I can no longer here as long as you are the editor, so I resign effective immediately.’

‘I will need a resignation letter plus it is customary for an employee to give two weeks notice.’

‘That is correct but it is also customary for a boss to give guidance and nurture an employee not stab them in the back and claim their work as your own.’

‘Oh, did I mention that I know Carly Simonson the editor-in-chief upstairs and your boss very well, we grew up together so maybe you should start cleaning out your desk.’

The look on Freebody’s face is priceless ‘I will leave my resignation letter on my desk Brian, bye for now.’

Wendy doesn’t bother writing the letter but she does send a quick email upstairs.

At home Wendy is busy packing her groceries away when her landline rings ‘Hello is this Wendy Gratton?

‘Yes, who am I speaking to?’

My name is Peter Robotham the crime editor at the Miami Herald, I hear that you might be looking for a new job?’

‘News sure does trave fast in this town but yes I do need a job.’

‘Carly Simonson rang me a few minutes ago and I vacancy for a crime reporter if you are interested.’

‘I sure am Peter, could I come to your office first thing in the morning?’

‘Yes that is fine Wendy, see you tomorrow, bye.’

Wendy can’t believe her luck but before she can pour a glass of wine to celebrate her phone rings again.

‘Hello Wendy just letting you know that I have a team and a K9 unit searching some of the old abandoned mines within a 20 mile radius from where Jessica Campbell missing back in 2004 plus I also informed the authorities up in Georgia of the situation and they promised me that they will look into it.’

‘But the best news Wendy is that the mine on Springmount Road has signs of recent activity and as we speak the K9 unit is moving in for a closer look.’

‘That is great news Mike I am on my way to the Campbell residence and I will stay there until I hear back from you.’

Trooper Donavan a young white man who has been part of the K9 team for six years holds onto his bloodhound’s lead as closes in on the mine ‘Slow down Marcie we need to wait for other troopers to arrive.’ but Marcie isn’t interested in waiting, she pulls Donavan forward for twenty feet before dropping to the ground beside some rusty sheets of corrugated iron.

‘Good girl Marcie, you have earned a reward now lets go play with your favorite toy shall we.’

A forensics team move in and quickly take photo’s of the iron and the surrounds especially the tire tracks and flattened grass area that the police units carefully avoided.

After forensics give permission the iron sheets are cleared away revealing a round wide shaft opening into the unknown.

‘Good job team’ Captain Mike Brady says taking charge of the situation ‘Lets shine some light down into the shaft to see if we can see what the dog reacted to.’

‘Fifty feet below Jessica Campbell is laying on the damp cold ground just waiting to die when she hears voices from above, opening an eye the teenager notices that for the first time since her capture she can see the sky above but when a bright light hits her face Jessica’s eyes burn so she cowers away into the darkness.

‘I don’t believe what I am seeing’ a rookie holding the light utters ‘There is somebody down there but she just moved away from the light but I swear I saw an old woman with long white hair.’

One of the troopers suggests that they bring in a helicopter ‘Might be dangerous with all of the trees around plus the power lines’ Brady responds ‘But I will put in a request, in the meantime call down the shaft and tell the person that we are here to help and she will be brought back to the surface as soon as we can reach her.’

After thinking about the situation Brady calls for a S.W.A.T team ‘Okay everyone a S.W.A.T team is on the way so prepare to assist, also the press will probably be here soon so keep them away and guys keep an eye out for any suspicious activity because the perpetrator could be watching us right this minute.’

Brady was 100% correct because just as he thought because the perp mingled with the journalists but unfortunately for Brady as soon as the S.W.A.T team arrived the perp slinked away unnoticed.

20 minutes later a S.W.A.T member is lowered into the shaft and he soon encounters a wild haired crazy eyed female making strange grunting animals noises holding a hand over her face to shield her eyes from the glare of the spotlight. ‘Holy shit, I might have a situation here.’ the S.W.A.T officer whispers to himself so to calm the female down he moves the light away from her face ‘Jessica? Is your name Jessica Campbell? Your momma is mighty worried about you so if you can come to me and I will take you home.’

After another series of animal sound’s the person slowly slides along the damp ground until she reaches her rescuer ‘Hold on Jessica, once I have tied to securely to myself we will go up into the sunshine.’

And with a quick tug on a rope the pair are pulled up towards the surface and when they appear all of the police break out in applause but they quickly step back at the stench aminating from the girl.

Jessica starts screaming when the sunshine hits her face ‘Jesus look at her eyes they are on fire’ one of the troopers gasps.

‘Cover her face for God sake’ Brady yells at the trooper ‘If you had been stuck down a mine shaft for over three years you would be screaming to, now put her in your cruiser and transport the child to General hospital ASAP.’

As soon as he knows that Jessica is in safe hands Brady calls her parents ‘Hello this is Captain Brady from Dade County can I speak to Lorna Campbell.’

‘Oh lord, please tell me that Jessica is alive and well.’

‘Yes she is Lorna but she is in bad shape as you can understand, she is unable to talk at the moment and mentally Jessica is very frail.’

‘She is currently being transported to General hospital so make your way there but when you see your daughter be prepared for a shock because you will not recognize her at first.’

‘My husband and I can’t thank you enough for not giving up searching for Jessica and how she survived is a miracle.’

‘Take care Lorna, I am mighty happy that you finally have good news but the person you should thank is Wendy Gratton because she is the one who pushed me in the right direction.’

Wendy and the Campbells hug in the middle of living room still not quite believing that Jessica has overcome her ordeal.

A week later Wendy visits the hospital and is led to an isolation room by a friendly nurse ‘Please when you enter make no loud noises plus the patient is unable to speak, she just makes weird grunting sounds so it would be best to remain silent.’

When the nurse opens the door Wendy is shocked at the sight of Jessica’s long silver hair and scaly white skin plus she has two large cotton pads covering both of her eyes and another strange thing is that two large flashlights sit on the table next to her bed.

Sensing that someone is watching her Jessica looks over towards Wendy who remains silent as her tears run down her cheeks.

Suddenly Jessica reaches up and rips the bandages from her eyes but this time Wendy can’t remain silent because Jessica’s eyes are now bright pink like an albino’s.

At the sound of Wendy’s scream the nurse comes rushing in ‘Oh sorry I should have warned you but I wasn’t expecting her to remove the bandages.’

Wendy looks at Jessica again and this time the girl smiles at her ‘I am glad that you are safe Jessica, now just rest and let the nurses look after you.’

Once they are outside the room asks the nurse about Jessica’s eyes ‘Will they return to normal and what’s the go with the flashlight’s?’

‘We had a power outage a few nights back and the patient went berserk at the sudden darkness so the doctor believes that the patient has Nyctophobia which is a condition where someone is afraid of the dark and concerning the patients eyes all I can say is that she will receive the best treatments available now I need to return to the patient.’

Wendy shudders as she walks away because Jessica’s situation reminds her of the poor girl in that old horror movie ‘The Exorcist.’

THE END.

Part Two coming soon.

I hope that you liked reading my story and if you did please leave a comment.

Plus if you have the means please make a donation so that I can become a fulltime writer Thank You.

Share this:

  • Share
  • Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X
  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
Like Loading...

‘Shadow Play.’

23 Friday Aug 2024

Posted by stevenjohnno in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

criminals, family, fantasy, home alone, mates, mystery, shadow, supernatural

The following story is about a young boy who has an unusual protector and guardian, his own shadow.

‘Mummy can I go outside and play with Pumpkin?’

‘It is really hot outside Caleb, just play inside and when it cools down you can outside okay?’

But mummy Pumpkin needs to go potty, plus I have been a good boy all day haven’t I?

32 year old Miranda Gaiman smiles at her sweet blond haired son who’s idea of ‘being a good boy’ is completely different to her own.

WOOF WOOF Pumpkin the family’s Irish setter pup lets Miranda know that he really needs to go outside.

Pumpkin immediately ran outside when Miranda opened the sliding down with Caleb hot on his heels ‘Not so fast mister, go grab your hat and I meant what I said ten minutes and back inside.’

It has been a scorcher in Sydney Australia this summer with the temperature hitting over 38 degrees most days so Miranda has a good reason to be watchful over her only child.

But this year the sunshine will put an unwanted spotlight on the Gaiman family.

A former international model who’s face graced the covers of Vogue and Cosmopolitan because of her tall slim figure and natural beauty and she also walked the catwalks of New York, Paris London and of course Sydney.

But now she is a house wife married to her childhood sweetheart Bruce Gaiman who also has a successful career as a lawyer specializing in international law.

Together the happy couple own a two story home just a short walk from Botany Bay where Caleb is a nipper at Kogarah Surf Club.

‘Five more minutes Caleb than come back inside and have a cool drink and when daddy comes home from work we might go down to the beach for a swim.’

Caleb who is a spitting image of his mother smiles back ‘Okay mummy can Pumpkin come to?’

‘Yes Pumpkin can come and don’t forget to bring the soccer ball back inside with you because you know what happened last week when you left it outside.’

Feeling his face turn bright red Caleb looks over to the neighbours house where the bane of his life a spotty faced, fat turd of an individual named Jeremy Poole lives.

Jeremy is two years older than Caleb so the bully uses his bulk to intimidate all of the kids at school and on his street but soon Jeremy will get down to size.

Miranda smiles when she hears Caleb and his dog playing happily but it is time that her son came inside to cool off so she walks over to the door but see stops short not quite believing what she is seeing.

Outside her son and a black shimmering figure are kicking the soccer ball back and forth while Pumpkin barks waiting for his turn.

AAAARRRRGGGGHHH the FUCKKKKKK Caleb almost jumped out of his skin on hearing the banshee scream and when he heard his mummy say the f word Caleb knew that he was in deep doo doo.

Caleb’s shadow returned to heel quick smart and in the end the soccer ball was once again left outside.

‘Well young man what do you have to say for yourself?’

Even though he knows that he was busted playing ball with his shadow Caleb decides to play dumb ‘What do you mean mummy?’

‘Don’t you dare give me your sweet innocent smile Caleb, now tell who you were playing with before I call the police.’

‘Why it was just Pumpkin mummy.’

‘Caleb I saw a black figure out there, now tell me who it was or there will be no ice cream or cake for the next three months.’

‘But mummy how am I supposed to grow up big and strong if I don’t eat any cake and ice cream?’

Picking up her phone Miranda pretends to call the police ‘Hello, yes my son was outside playing with a stranger and he want tell me…’

‘Hang up mummy please, it wasn’t a stranger it was my shadow.’

‘Your shadow Caleb? I wasn’t born yesterday now tell me the truth.’

On cue the shadow moves over and sits on a couch opposite Caleb.

‘See mummy it is just my shadow, everybody has one you know.’

For once in her life Miranda Gaiman is completely speechless.

‘Caleb when daddy gets home I will have to tell him what I saw today okay?’

‘I don’t understand what the big deal is about me and my shadow playing outside.’

‘Well honey your shadow has a special ability that nobody else has so you need to keep it a secret and promise me Caleb that you won’t tell anybody about your shadow okay?’

‘Okay mummy but Pumpkin knows but he can keep a secret.’

Seeing that her son has had enough for one day Miranda hugs him close ‘Everything is good Caleb now go watch some cartoons and I will bring you a drink and a blueberry muffin.’

Three hours later Bruce Gaiman walks inside swinging his briefcase but he immediately knows that something is wrong because normally Caleb would rush to greet him with a thousand questions but today his eyes are glues to the TV screen pretending that everything is fine and dandy.

‘Alright Caleb what have you done this time, tell me now or I will eat all of the food in the house leaving you nothing but Brussel sprouts and Broccoli.’

After a few seconds Caleb blurts out ‘I haven’t done anything daddy but my shadow has been a very naughty boy.’

‘Yes he has hasn’t he’ Miranda says as she welcomes her husband home ‘Why don’t you tell daddy who or maybe I should say what played ball with you this morning.’

Bruce has heard enough ‘Alright will somebody tell me what in the hell happened today because right now I feel like I walked into the middle of a loony tunes cartoon.’

‘Well Bruce you might won’t to sit down because what I am about to tell you will scare the living crap out of you.’

I don’t need to sit down Miranda just tell me.’

Knowing that his master might be in some trouble Pumpkin the terrier runs to the backdoor barking his head off.

Soon he is joined by Caleb who immediately notices his soccer ball has been pierced by an arrow ‘Shadow or no shadow I will make you pay Jeremy Poole, just you wait and see.’

Caleb has had enough of the bully next door who thinks that he can destroy someone else’s property without any consequences. ‘Think again a hole.’

Opening the door to go fetch his ball Caleb is almost bowled over when his shadow races out into the yard, snaps the arrow in half then throws the broken projectile back over the fence from whence it came.

‘Holy fricking hell’ Bruce gasps ‘Did anybody else see what I just saw?’

Bruce goes to say more but before he can his eyes roll back and he crumples to the floor in a dead faint.

‘I told you to take a seat Bruce but you never listen, Caleb why don’t you and Pumpkin go into your room for a while and take your shadow with you and I will take care of daddy.’

A few minutes later Miranda walks into Calebs room carrying a tray holding a pepperoni pizza and a can of Pepsi ‘Just me Caleb, your father is still in shock so he is laying down for a while.’

‘Caleb you aren’t in any trouble but can you tell me when this thing with your shadow first started?’

After taking a bite of pizza Caleb replies ‘I can’t remember exactly but a few weeks ago at school my toy car fell down a drain and when I went to grab it I couldn’t quite reach but than my shadow came to the rescue.’

‘None of the other kids said anything so I am pretty sure that nobody saw me.’

‘That’s good Caleb but you have to promise me that in the future you will control your shadow.’

Caleb wants to please his mummy but he knows that his shadow sometimes takes like it has a mind of its own or something.

‘I will try mummy but sometimes things are beyond my control.’

‘You are a good boy Caleb, try to stay focused and don’t let your shadow lead you astray.’

Miranda is worried for her boy maybe he will need to be placed in isolation somewhere for his own protection until Bruce and herself can come up with a solution that doesn’t involve the authorities who would most likely treat her son like a circus freak.

Later that while Caleb is dreaming about dinosaurs ruling the earth once again his shadow slides out of bed and guided by a night light that his boy uses to keep bad people away grabs a pack of itching powder from the dresser then the shadow floats out of the half opened window destination next door.

Jeremy Poole is laying on his back snoring like a chainsaw when the shadow enters his room.

First it opens an underwear drawer and empties half of the itching powder inside then it removes two shoelaces from the bullies school shoes and uses them to tie both of Jeremy’s hands to the bed posts.

Still not satisfied the shadow pulls back the covers and empties the rest of the itching powder all over the sheets before making a quiet exit.

Audrey Poole gets up early every day to prepare breakfast and pack Jeremy’s lunch in his school bag.

The president of the local neighbourhood watch Audrey couldn’t care less about people’s safety or the wellbeing of others all Audrey craves is the chance to stick her nose into other people’s business and make their lives a misery.

Just like her son Audrey is overweight and she uses her bulk to intimidate her neighbours but believe it or not deep down Audrey is a kind soul who just wants a little love in her life but at the moment she is going about it the wrong way.

AAAAARRRRGGGGGG The scream from upstairs startles Audrey, she runs up to her son’s room to find him tied to his bed yelling hysterically ‘What’s wrong Jeremy who tied you to your bed and what is that white powder all over your room?’

‘Please Jeremy don’t tell that you are taking drugs?’

‘Yes mother I have up here all night snorting cocaine with a bunch of hookers and they tied to the bed before we all had nasty sex.’

Audreys mouth forms a silent O and she covers her mouth in horror ‘Get real mum it is itching powder, someone must have broken in, but first can you untie me because I need to scratch real bad.’

Jeremy scratches furiously all over body irritating his skin and drawing blood in places ‘Quick Jeremy go jump in the shower the water might take the itch away.’

Next door Caleb has woken up in a bad mood because one it is another school day and two he will have to wait for the school bus at the same bus stop as Jeremy the prick next door. ‘Hopefully he has shit the bed and is stuck to his sheets for the rest of his life.’

Downstairs Caleb is greeted by his mother ‘good morning sweetie, me and your father spoke last night and we think that it would be best if you stayed home from school for a week or so until we have solved the shadow situation.’

Inside Caleb is jumping for joy but he puts on a somber face ‘If you think that is for the best than I will stay home.’

Thirty minutes later Caleb peers through the front blinds when he hears Jeremy’s front door slam shut and then lard arse appears and he doesn’t look happy, his school pants are half pulled down and his hands are inside scratching like crazy.

When the school bus appears Jeremy’s pants fall down to his ankles and all of the kids on the bus point and laugh at the quivering boy who has made school days hell for most of them.

Completely humiliated Jeremy turns around and trudges back home.

Caleb is laughing so loud Miranda walks into the room to see what is so funny ‘Why are you looking out the window and what was making you laugh?

‘Oh nothing mummy I was just waving at my friends on the school bus.’

‘Come and eat your breakfast at the kitchen table Caleb so we can discuss your shadow problem as a family.’

‘My shadow isn’t a problem mummy all of the other kids at school have a shadow following them around all day.’

‘Yes they have Caleb and I don’t mean to sound dramatic but you might be the only person on earth who has a shadow that seems to have a mind of its own and the ability to move around at will.’

Just as Caleb settles in at the kitchen table there is a loud knock on the front door.

‘Jesus who could it be this hour? It better noy be one of those religious freaks.’

Opening the door Miranda is confronted by Audrey Poole and her crazy son Jeremy ‘Just what I need’ Miranda mutters under her breath.

‘What can I do for you this fine morning Audrey? A brain transplant perhaps?

‘Sorry to bother you Miranda but broke in last night and tied Jeremy to his bed and covered him in itching powder.’

‘Oh my God Audrey have you called the police?

‘No not yet, but as you can see Jeremy can’t stop scratching which has caused him great distress.’

Jeremy is indeed hopping from foot to foot as his hands delve inside his pants seeking some relief but Miranda has little time for the bully ‘Oh and by the way young man you owe me $120 for the six soccer balls that you destroyed with your bow and arrow.’

‘You won’t get one cent out of me’ Jeremy sneers ‘your wimpy son can pay for them and he will pay big time for coming over to my place last night spreading itching powder all over my room.’

‘Don’t be so rude Jeremy’ scolds Audrey ‘Your room is fifteen feet off the ground plus all of the doors and windows were locked so don’t blame anyone without proof, I know that you are a bit itchy at the moment son so mummy will go to the chemist and buy a bottle of Calamine lotion and your problem will go away.’

‘Well if Caleb didn’t break in who did? asks Jeremy.

Good question Jeremy Miranda ponders, she knows that her son didn’t go anywhere last night but she has a good idea who did.

As she watches Audrey and her son walk back home Miranda finds herself feeling sorry for them both she hopes that one day they will find peace and happiness.

After being cooped up inside all day Caleb is going stir crazy plus his constant whining is beginning to drive his parents up the wall. ‘Alright enough okay’ Bruce says ‘I know that it is a pain in the butt not being able to go outside but what if someone sees your shadow running around and calls the cops? They would take you away and ask questions later.’

‘But I tell you what, go check the letterbox but straight back inside alright.’

Caleb happily puts on his shoes then calls out to Pumpkin ‘Here boy lets go out front.’

Next door Jeremy Poole is sitting on a chair near the front door hoping for a chance to confront the wimpy kid next door, he probably keeps a diary for Gods sake.

Slathered from head to toe in Calamine lotion Jeremy is still seething even though he no longer has an urge to scratch. ‘Come on Caleb, I am going kick your arse all way down the street.’

Just then Caleb appears causing Jeremy to spring into action ‘Well well if it isn’t Caleb Gaiman himself, ready to pick your teeth out of the grass.’

‘Holy crap’ Caleb wails, caught like a deer in the headlights Caleb doesn’t know what to do.

While Caleb and Jeremey are having a staring contest an old white Hilux van rounds the corner heading their way.

Inside a pair of local criminals named Dennis Miller and Scott Pritchard are arguing about which house would be an easy target.

The pair have been in prison a few times which has earned them the nicknames of Harry and Marv after the two bumbling thieves in the ‘Home Alone’ movie.

Marv is at the wheel not concentrating on the road, all he wants is a quick job so he and Harry can go down to the pub for a few beers.

Caleb only just manages to escape Jeremy clutches who is blocking his way back to the safety of home so Caleb takes off across the street so fast as he can.

Once across he looks over to see Jeremey about to run after him , then out of the corner of his eye Caleb sees a white van bearing down on Jeremey fast ‘JEREMEY NO GET BACK.’

Noticing the look of terror on Caleb’s face Jeremey finally notices the van and stops dead and the middle road.

Caleb’s shadow knowing that it is Jeremey’s only chance of survival flies across the road like a bullet knocking Jeremey to safety.

Caleb runs over to comfort Jeremey ‘You saved my life Caleb, I don’t know how you did but I would be dead if not for you.’

‘It was my shadow Jeremey, but you have to promise not to tell a soul, okay mate.’

Jeremey is in a lot of pain but he manages to nod his head before losing consciousness.

Bruce and Miranda quickly followed by Audrey Poole soon converge on the scene ‘Jeremey’ Audrey screams as she falls to her knees beside her son ‘Come on son wake up for mummy.’

Caleb hugs his parents ensuring them that he is unharmed ‘Jeremey is fine Mrs Poole but I think he might have a few broken ribs.’

Lifting up her son’s shirt Audrey gasps at the sight of a huge red purple bruise on Jeremey’s left side ‘Christ it looks like Jeremey has been hit by a cannonball ‘Bruce mutters as he grabs the teen’s wrist checking for a pulse ‘Don’t worry Jeremey an ambulance is its way.’

Did you see what I saw Marv?

‘I didn’t see anything Harry what did I miss?’

‘Jesus Marv pay attention, that little wimpy kid has a power and that power will make us more money than we could ever spend.’

‘Now sit tight while I go grab the golden goose.’

Marv has no idea what his partner in crime is talking about but he stays put.

Caleb walks towards the van hoping that he can thank the driver for his driving skills.

As he gets close the passenger emerges opening a sliding door beckoning him forward ‘Hey kid you did good today, do you want a snickers bar I have some back here somewhere.’

Caleb suddenly remembers his parents warning him about stranger danger so he steps back but suddenly a huge sack is pulled over his head before he is bundled into the back of the van.

When the ambulance arrives Miranda realizes that she hasn’t seen Caleb in a while so she scans the area whispering her son’s name.

But young Caleb Gaiman is gone.

THE END.

Part Two is coming soon.

I hope that you enjoyed reading my story and if you did please leave a like or a comment and if you have the means please make a donation so I can become a fulltime writer. Thank You.

Share this:

  • Share
  • Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X
  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
Like Loading...

‘Roadkill ( Mantlepiece of Death ) 2.

22 Saturday Aug 2020

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

blood, horror, murder, roadkill, supernatural, taxidermy

In the first installment i introduced you all to Myron Oxenford a 58 year old old eccentric who called rural Mississippi home.

He was employed by the county to clear the highways and byways from any animal unfortunate enough to be killed by passing trucks and cars.

A loner at heart Myron enjoyed driving around all day listening to country music as he goes about his job,scraping up the roadkill all over the couty.

An amateur taxidermist Myron every now and than would take the freshest and least damaged carcasses home to his cabin in the woods where he would stuff the creatures and place them on his mantlepiece.

The pelts he would dry near the fire whilst some of the meat was thrown on the skillet the choicest cuts were put into jars and pickled for winter.

All in all life has been good for Myron Oxenford, so far.

One summer night Myron drank a few jars of moonshine and woke feeling like a skunk had slept on his tongue but he was still keen to add to his collection.

Even though he knows that he really shouldn’t be driving Myron backs out of his driveway on a mission.

A few weeks back a stranger he met at a bar offered him a shitload of money to make his wife disappear, an offer Myron couldn’t turn down.

Ten minutes he notices his target jogging along the side of the road on her usual morning constitutional.

Sally Nulksteader never knew what hit her when she was hit by Myron’s pickup and thrown down a small embankment.

Her husband told Myron to leave Sally’s body at the scene so that it will look like your everyday hit and run but Myron can’t resist temptation so after scrambling down the slope he carried the body back to his truck.

Sally Nulksteader will soon take pride of place on his mantlepiece of death.

Arriving home Myron’s blood is pumping full throttle and he knows that he has dug himself a hole that he can never escape from but at the same time he has in his possession the ultimate display specimen.

For three hours he drank shine as he sharpened his trusty knife on a whetstone.

Finally he stood and got down to doing what needed to be done, he skinned the carcass threw some meat on the skillet and pickled the rest.

Unbeknown’s to Myron for the past five months a lone house fly has been buzzing around his cabin as he slept feeding his drool to an eagle and a misshapen cougar that he couldn’t stuff properly.

The two roadkill victims have been sitting on the mantle for months but the precious liquid the fly has been feeding them has moistened their organs and slowly but surely life is being restored.

On his last day on earth Myron woke to a commotion coming from the living room and goes to investigate.

The cougar bounds from the mantlepiece and kills the roadkill merchant with a single bite to the back of the neck.

When the big cat has eaten his fill the eagle swoops down and picks at the bones and remaining meat.

Myron Oxenford now resides in hell well and truly stuffed.

PART TWO.

Brett Nulksteader looks up at the clock for perhaps the tenth time in the past five minutes.

His wife Sally left for her morning run an hour ago and hopefully by now the deed has been done and she wont be returning.

But he waits until mid morning before he calls the police to report her missing.

The desk sergeant at the Holbrook police station tells the obviously distraught Mr Nulksteader ‘Listen Sally has more than likely stopped for some shopping or is visiting a friend’

‘We are new to the area sergeant Murhpy so Sally has had a chance to make any friends and her handbag is here so she has no money on her’.

‘Plus why doesn’t she answer her phone? I am telling you something terrible has happened’.

Please Mr Nulksteader try to remain calm because i am sure that Sally will walk through the door at any minute but if she hasn’t returned by tomorrow we will launch an investigation’

After smoking cigarette after cigarette Brett can’t stand the tension anymore and he really needs to know if Myron came through for him and with no phone reception out in the woods Brett has no alternitive but to drive out there.

Jumping into his car Brett decides to travel the route that Sally normally goes on her run every morning and a few miles from home he notices a huge wet patch on the side of the road glistening in the morning sun.

Trembling with excitement he pulls over to have a closer look, maybe the blood is from a deer or moose but than Brett notices a running shoe a few yards down an embankment.

After spending a few minutes searching no body is found and shaking with fury Brett knows that Myron must have taken Sally back to his cabin.

‘Why couldn’t the asshole just follow the plan?’

At this point Brett should of just driven out to Myrons place but his ego wouldn’t let him so he calls the cops and tells them that he has found what he believes is his wives running shoe down an embankment on Potters Road.

Ten minutes later a squad car arrives and two uniformed cops climb out.

The elder of the pair introduces himself ‘Good morning Mr Nulksteader i am sergeant Coverdale and my partner is corporal Bolin i understand that you have found what you believe is your wives shoe?

Yes officer i reported my wife missing this morning after she didn’t return from her run’

‘Where is the shoe Mr Nulksteader just point where it is’ Coverdale demands.

‘Um sorry but i picked it up and put it on the front seat of my car’

‘You really should of left it where you found it’Bolin pipes up’Now you have trampled over the scene of an accident and potentially a crime scene’

‘Sorry officer but i was just hoping to find Sally alive and well so i wasn’t thinking about a crime scene’

Bolin a slight native american relents a little ‘I understand Mr Nulksteader, we will organize a K9 unit but in the meantime just take a set in the back of the squad car while my partner and i have a look around’

Brett nods his head and takes a seat, he watches the two cops intently hoping that they don’t find any evidence linking Myron to the scene because Brett knows that the old timer would turn on him in a heartbeat.

On a rocky outcrop a mere twenty yards above the two cops a misshapen cougar sits on his haunches ready to pounce.

The stitches that Myron applied a few months back are starting to come apart and the creatures insides are beginning to poke through.

The deranged big cat is hungry but he is wary of the human activity so he turns tail and slinks away.

A K9 unit arrived soon after and six bloodhounds started running around in excitement waiting for their handler to give them the command to seek.

The handler a grumpy old army veteran named Dru Standridge has been helping the local police for years helping to locate many folk both dead and alive.

Stanbridge who some say resembles the old cowboy actor Walter Brennan reaches into a coat pocket and takes a long drink from a flask.

His dogs are going ballistic as he leads them to the blood stain and after a quick sniff the bloodhounds get their bearing trot off in an easterly direction.

In the back seat of the cop car Brett Nulksteader rubs sweaty palms on his jeans when he realizes the dogs are heading towards Myron’s cabin.

All he can hope for is that Myron has disposed of Sally’s remains out in the sticks someplace where the dogs will lose the scent and his wife will never be found.

Six weeks prior Sally was taking a shower when her cell phone rang, Brett let it ring but it is unusual for Sally to receive calls late at night so he answers and listens to the message’ Hello sweetheart i cant wait to see you again tomorrow and we can make love again and again.’

Brett deletes the message and waits to confront his wife when she has finished.

But as he waits Brett blood boils in rage and he comes to the decision that she has to go permanently and the the old man he met in the bar a few days later while drowning his sorrows.

The stranger was none other then Myron Oxenford the towns roadkill merchant and amateur taxidermist.

After hearing of his drinking buddies martial problems he agrees to make her disappear forever’ Give give me $20,000 and you will never see her again.

‘OK but make sure that she is buried deep so the wildlife can’t dig her up because if her body is found you and i will both go to jail for a very long time’.

‘Don’t worry Brett you can rely on me to do the job’ Myron responds then the two strangers went their seperate ways.

Of course Myron had no intention of burying the body, he has always wanting a human trophy to sit on his mantlepiece plus the $20,000 being an added bonus.

Now as the police cruiser follows the dogs out to Myron’s cabin Brett shakes his head at his own stupidity.

How could he have been to reach out to a total stranger to kill his wife?

15 minutes later the dogs are sniffing and whimpering outside the cabin’s front door.

When the cops arrive Brennan has bad news’ Judging by the way my dogs are reacting i am positive that you have a deceased person inside’

Coverdale and Bolin were both hoping that Sally Nulksteader was in some sort of accident and is laying in the brush somewhere waiting to be found but the dogs led them straight here so both officers draw their weapons and Coverdale being the senior partner knocks on the door.

Suddenly the blood hounds start howling and begin to round in circles with their tails between their legs ‘Officers there is something inside that is scaring the dogs maybe you should ring for backup’

‘Control your animals Mr Stanbridge’ Coverdale orders but the huge African American soon shuts up when an evil stench descends upon all present.

Officer Bolin fresh out of the academy takes charge ‘Stanbridge help is on the help so please take your dogs bacck to your van and get the fuck out of here’

The dog handler is now visibly shaking’ Officers please listen to me, i have never seen my dogs act this way before, i am telling you that something terrible has happened inside the cabin so we should go back to your car and wait for the backup to get here’

The only reply is an agonizing scream AARRRGGGG ‘Get this fucking thing off me’ Bolin and Stanbridge watch in astonishment as the huge officer is dragged away by a mangy deformed cougar.

Bolin Can’t get a shot off in fear of hitting partner but soon it is too late when with a bite to the back of his neck the big cat kills Coverdale.

There is no way in hell that Bolin is going to let the cougar eat his partner so he takes a few tentative steps forward to put the cougar down but the cat moves fast and Bolin joins his partner on the ground with his throat ripped open.

The officers blood mingles together and the dogs run to the hills scared out of their minds.

Stanbridge scrambles into the back of the cruiser next to Brett’ Holy fucking shit did you see what that cougar did to the cops? plus there is something worse inside that cabin’

All Brett can do nod his head and try to squirm out of sight then his eyes drift over to the cougar that has dragged one of the cops bodies over to an oak tree where it is feeding with relish.

‘Jesus on a stick’ Stanbridge screams’ We need to get out of here right now before that cat finishes it meal and comes looking for dessert’

Pointing a bony finger the old man croaks’ The keys are still in the ignition so climb over and drive as fast as you can’

Brett is tempted to do what the old codger says but he has to make sure that his wife and Myron are dead and if they are still he will finish them off before a troop of cops get here.

With both his Myron and Sally unable to speak against him his murderous plan will remain a secret.

Calm down Stanbridge i need to go inside and find my wife to make sure she is safe and sound’ Stanbridge knows that there is no way that anyone is safe and sound inside that cabin but the old man is beyond caring.

Brett looks over to the cougar munching on what looks like a femur bone and is confident that the cat wouldn’t leave a fresh kill so he steps outside’ Just stay calm until reinforcements get here but i need to find me wife’ and with a quick glance at the contented cat Brett hurries over to the front door of the cabin and luckily it is unlocked.

The stench of blood and human waste hit him in the chest like a tidal wave and for an instant he is tempted to escape but he has to make sure that no one is alive to tell tales so he takes another step inside.

A lone fly sits on the mantlepiece watching the intruder with interest, the insect has been lapping up the blood and other liquids from the body of the taxidermist as it slowly begins to decompose.

The fly has been drip feeding the liquids into the mouth of the stuffed and stitched human sitting pride of place beside him on the mantle just like it fed the cougar enjoying a meal outside and an eagle perched up on a shelf above a dresser.

If the fly could smile it surely would because yesterday the human’s heart began to pulse slowly.

Now the female is primed and ready to give her husband a welcome he wont forget in a hurry.

The fly rubs it’s wings together in anticipation of another fresh blood meal and it wont be long before it can dig in.

Hello Brett where in the fuck have you been?’

Brett’s head snaps around at the sound of his wife’s voice ‘Up here darling i now reside with the dead and the damned ‘ Brett looks up to see Sally looking like she has been sewn together by a drunk DR Frankenstein.

‘Sorry that i am not looking my best but i was run over by a truck, stuffed and stitched like a christmas turkey and displayed up here on the mantle like a whore in a cathouse so forgive me if i am no longer to your taste but i will savior your demise.

It takes a second or two for Brett’s brain to comprehend what the creature said to him and before the words sink in Sally springs down slamming him to the floor knocking the wind from his lungs.

While her husband struggles for breath Sally rummages around in Myron’s taxidermy kit until she finds a needle and thread’ Now hold still Brett as i sew your murderous words closed forever more and i warn you dear that if you move i will snap your neck like a chicken’

She then proceeds to use the needle and thread sewing her husbands mouth until it like the stitches on an all game baseball.

Brett gurgles in total terror and soon the fly enters the fray.

It hovers around Brett’s left nostril before settling on an eyeball then it finds its way inside his skull and begins to vacuum the vital fluids from his brain.

In a few hours Brett will be left in a permanent state, the hateful husband will spend the rest of his life under care never to utter another word.

As he dies the eagle swoops and begins to pick at the flesh but Sally screams’ No leave him be there will be lots of food for us in the future mark my words’

Police sirens are getting louder so Sally opens the front door and hurries past a terrified Dru Stanbridge still seated in the back of the cop car terrified out of his wits.

She strolls over to the cougar resting after consuming his large meal and scratches the kitty behind the ears .

The cat is annoyed having its sleep interrupted but instantly gets to its feet and follows his fellow roadkill survivor out into the night where they soon vanish from view.

After walking a few miles in a tangle undergrowth they are soon joined by a bald headed eagle that flies from tree to tree leading the way.

A fly lands on Sally’s shoulder and settles down for a long trek.

The gruesome foursome steadily stroll toward destination unknown so please keep your doors locked and your windows shut.

Part Three coming soon.

THE END.

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

Share this:

  • Share
  • Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X
  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
Like Loading...

‘The Stairwell ( 2 )’

18 Saturday Jan 2020

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

death, horror, insanity, madness, redemption, supernatural, travel, wasp

Part One.

The summer of 2016 was un seasonally warm in northern England and eight year old Alistair Craddick is outside playing in a creek behind the house his mother bought after his father passed away last winter.

Around midday when his stomach tells him that it needs food Alistair grabs a jar full of tadpoles that he spent all morning collecting.

Running excitedly inside to show his mummy the little wrigglers Alistair doesn’t notice the mud clinging to his shoes.

Mud that is now smeared all over the living room carpet.

Beatrice Craddick is a 38 year old human wrecking ball, as solid as a brick outhouse and meaner than a rattlesnake and on seeing the mess her son has made goes completely ballistic and orders her son to crawl into a small space beneath the stairwell ‘Please mummy you know I don’t like it in there’

Alistair can barely talk through his tears ‘Mummy the stairwell is full of cob webs and spiders please don’t make me go in there’

‘I wont tell you again you little turd now get in there before I get the wooden spoon and give you something to cry about’

Hanging his head Alistair carries his jar of tadpoles over to the stairwell and crawls inside,

Beatrice and her new boyfriend have been getting hot and heavy for months and Joe has been pestering her into letting him move into her home.

But Alistair and Joe don’t get along at all so now Beatrice has a decision to make and after drinking a full bottle of wine she comes to a life shattering decision.

She crushes ten sleeping tablets and dissolves them in a glass of water unlocks the cupboard beneath the stairwell and after a moment hands the water to her son who gulps it down.

Alistair soon began to drift away but before he left this world he uttered ‘Why mummy why? All I wanted was for you to love me’

Three months later.

Beatrice is home alone making herself a sandwich for lunch when she hears a strange scratching sound coming from the stairwell.

She had the space sealed forever more with a solid brick wall a month after she entombed her son alive.

Thinking that maybe a hedgehog or cat has found its way in Beatrice leans in places her ear and listens ‘Why did you kill me mummy? I always tried to be a good little boy so why mummy why’

Beatrice bleats a strangled yelp before her eyes flutter and she faints landing with a heavy thud.

In the stairwell Alistair’s torn twisted soul twirls around his skeleton moving between ribs and decayed sinew until the soul with the aid of a heavenly presence lifts a bony finger that resumes rubbing against the brickwork creating an eerie human voice ‘Why mummy why?’

When she regains her senses Beatrice scampers away from the stairwell in fright making incoherent noises as her mind snaps and madness settles in.

Joe arrives home drunk as a skunk and falls over Beatrice who’s bulk is blocking the entranceway ‘What are you doing on the floor you stupid woman , now get the fuck up and go make me some dinner before I turn you black and blue.

Beatrice doesn’t even notice Joe as he stands threatening above her shaking a fist but the sound of his angry voice hasn’t gone unnoticed in the stairwell.

The soul as been busy while Beatrice slowly lost her mind and now it whips up an army of dead flies ,cockroaches, and tadpoles that have littered the stairwell floor for months.

The animal husks funnel together spinning counter clockwise under the command of Alistair’s soul than they fly out of a small opening made by the bony finger tip the entombed boys skeletal finger and enter joe’s mouth before he has the sense to close it silencing him for eternity.

Beatrice who is now living in the land of the pixies glances at the stairwell as a small jumble of bones leave the confinement and jingle and jangle toward her ‘Hello mummy did you miss me?’

Part Two.

Beatrice’s damaged brain somehow registers the sound of her should be dead son’s voice.

Her remaining semblance of self try to comprehend how Alistair who she personally entombed behind a brick wall is somehow alive and standing before her in a tangle of bones.’Hello mummy did you miss me’.

Part two

Beatrice stumbles outside to escape her son who doesn’t seem to know that he is dead and disappears into the night while inside the house Alistair who is in no fit condition to chase after his mother retreats to the confines of the stairwell ,his home away from home where he spent months decaying and decomposing.

The recently reborn eight year old takes a seat in his usual spot ,he is soon joined by his tortured soul that refused to die.

The apparition twists and twirls between Alistair’s bleached bones giving new life and vitality to his skeletal frame.

As his soul floats around the confined space Alistair’s nasal cavity picks up a nasty smell and he remembers that Joe the arsehole boyfriend is laying dead out on the living room floor.

Alistair has plans for him but not quite yet.

Beatrice has somehow managed to drive over 300 miles from the scene from her son’s reincarnation despite slipping into the realms of insanity.

She weaves in between the traffic like a bat out of hell driving to escape her demons when she loses control of her Mazda and slams into a tree just outside of Manchester.

Fortunately she was wearing her seat which saved her life and a passing motorist called the authorities and held her hand until they arrived.

When the police pull up they are confronted by a mad woman screaming of a boy who rose from the dead a boy who will not rest until he is avenged.

Her rambling’s force an officer to restrain her in the back seat of his car and when an ambulance arrives Beatrice is quickly transported to hospital for the mandatory blood tests and a mental health check.

Back in the stairwell Alistair is still prone in the same position as his body and mind continue to rejuvenate from the inside.

But he knows that once he is ready to leave the stairwell and venture outside he will need an outer covering.

This is where Joe the arsehole will finally be good for something.

On the way to hospital a deranged Beatrice attacked the paramedic who was trying to treat her biting his neck leaving a nasty wound.

She was taken to a hospital for the criminally insane where she was placed in a padded cell secured firmly by a straight jacket.

Alistair knows that he will need help if he is to continue to with his rebirth so he channels his thoughts outside where a wasp has been building a nest under the eaves.

The tiny insect flies into the stairwell and lands on Alistair’s shoulder.

Using a mixture of clicks and whispers Alistair and the paper wasp communicate.

With a blur of wings the wasp darts out to the living room where it proceeds to cut a small patch of discoloured skin before returning to the stairwell and pastes the skin to Alistair’s muscles and meat.

For three days and nights the wasp works feverishly cutting and pasting little square patches of Joe’s skin onto his new friends body until Alistair looks like a patchwork Frankenstein monster with a complexion a nasty green grey.

In her padded cell Beatrice in rare moments of lucidity stares out of a small window high in the wall of her confinement.

She knows that her son is out there somewhere on the road to his redemption and want rest until she is destroyed.

But for the moment all she can see is blackness out of the small portal to the world a darkness that could become her new normality if her reborn off spring finds her.

Alistair has begun to walk and roam around the house as he strengthens tendons and ligaments that he hasn’t used since his rebuild.

As he goes from room to room Alistair’s mind drifts back to the day when his own mummy poisoned him with pills then entombed him behind a brick wall to die a slow painful death.

His shoulders shake as he sobs a few lonely tears that slide down his forlorn cheeks.

Before his tears can leave a stain on his already fragmented frame of mind the tiny paper wasp lands on an ear lobe and whispers words of encouragement.

Alistair nods his head in agreement and as the wasp continues to talk the dark clouds that were clouding his mind disappear only to be replaced by even darker thoughts.

Find his evil mummy and what will be will be.

The wasp flutters around the stairwell corralling all of the creepy crawlies that have picked Joe’s bones clean.

The bugs are keen to go on an adventure where they will travel to hell by Alistair’s side with no guarantee that they will return.

Alistair himself is oblivious to the activity around him as he concentrates on the journey ahead.

After a day spent meditating and reflecting on the past Alistair and his collection of midges ,gnats ,beetles and flies plus of course his trusty sidekick the wasp leave the Craddick home for perhaps the last time.

Even though he is only eight years of age Alistair knows that walking around with a shitload of bugs clinging to his body and his patchwork yellow green skin wouldn’t go unnoticed in broad daylight so dusk is the perfect time to travel to God knows where.

After walking only 500 metres down the road Alistair realises that ‘God knows where’ is an apt description of his problem because he has absolutely no idea in which direction his murderous mummy hightailed to.

But lucky for him the wasp is three steps ahead of him has sent out a search party of twenty or so bluebottle and march flies who can smell the stench of moral decay and treason from over 1000 miles away.

Knowing that the wasp has his back Alistair’s spirits lift and he walks forward with a spring in his step but his feeling hit the doldrums when he feels a blister beginning to rub his left heel.

So with little choose Alistair does something that he knows he shouldn’t oughta do.

He sticks out a thumb and starts to hitch hike for the first time in his short life.

And ten minutes later a beat up Volkswagon pulls up beside him.

Bernie Gillan a thirty three year old diesel mechanic from Bristol is on his way home from church when he spotted a small child on the side of the road but when he gets a closer look he almost drove away ‘Jesus kid you look like you just crawled out of your grave’

‘You shouldn’t be out here on your own and hitch hiking to boot , where are your parents?

‘Thanks for stopping mister I am on my way north to visit my gran before she falls off the perch, huh I mean she is sick so I really need to see her’

‘OK climb in kid and leave the weather outside;

Alistair jumps aboard and immediately the collection of bugs crawl over Bernie deciding whether he is friend or foe and after sniffing his scent settle down for a snooze.

‘Arrrrrggghdrr what in the fuck get these things off before I frive down an embankment’

‘Sorry mister I couldn’t leave my bug collection at home with no food, so just drive me where I want to go before you become their next meal’

Alistair knows that it is cruel to tease the kind driver but he is on a mission and everyone knows that the mission always comes first.

‘OK kid calm down I will take you where you want to go but these crawlies are rally creeping me out;

‘Just drive and when we get there I will let you know’

The wasp enters Alistair’s ear hole and pounds on his ear drum with an urgent message and after listening attentively for a minute Alistair passes the message on ‘Driver just follow the blue lights and soon we will arrive at gran’s and you can be on your way’

‘Thank you kid and please take your bugs with when you leave because they are beginning to make me nervous very nervous indeed’

Twenty metres ahead the blue bottles give off a eerie glow as they fly forward into a strong wind but hopefully they will reach their destination in an hour or two.

20 miles north in her padded cell Beatrice notices a lone fly enter via the small window and annoyingly land on her nose.

She struggles with her straight jacket but to no avail and pretty soon the restraint and the fly and really starting to piss her off big time.

Her madness and ugly disposition give Beatrice extra ordinary strength and one by one the buckles on the straight jacket pop and ten minutes later the battle axe from hell is loose ready to face her demons,

All she has to do now is escape from her cell and find a stairwell in this shit hole because she knows that her son who refuses to die is on his way and she wants to prepare.

As her mind warp bends and twists reality Beatrice slips even further down into the doldrums with no chance of returning to normality any time soon.

As Beatrice paces her cell hundreds and hundreds assorted bugs enter quickly followed by a clever wasp who picks the lock on her cell door and the mummy the devil would refuse is free wander the halls at her leisure.

Bernie steers his car into the driveway out the front of a huge monstrosity called the ‘Hallywell House for the Criminally Insane’ and parks near the front door. ‘There you go you little shit I hope you are proud of yourself for putting me through hell’

‘Now get out of my car and don’t forget to say hello to your gran from me bye’

Alistair approaches the front door anxious and ill at ease but when the goes to open the door it clicks open and he enters and is met by the wasp who guides him on the final steps of his journey.

After rounding a corner Alistair finds himself looking at his mummy sitting in the middle of a dark dank stairwell. Hello Alistair I have been half expecting you, come inside and close the door’

When Alistair enters a tiny patch of skin falls from his body littering the floor like a discarded piece of confetti .

Knowing that he doesn’t have much time left Alistair attempts to confront his mother but he no longer has the strength or the will anymore.

He takes a seat beside the woman who killed him ‘I have travelled many a mile to get my redemption but now all I want to do is close my eyes and die again, goodbye cruel world’

For a few minutes Alistair’s sunken chest rises and falls as he prepares to leave this world for the final time and when he takes his last breath every patch of skin falls from his body providing him a comfy resting place.

Beatrice overcome with grief and guilt puts an arm around her boy and she never moves from his side.

Three days later her tainted heart stops beating and now mother and son are reunited forevermore in an unholy truce.

May their blood mingle and flow down to the gates of hell or up to cleanse the feet of St Peter.

It is now up to the gods to decide their fate.

The wasp begins to build a nest on the melded bodies in preparation for the next generation.

Sometimes the dead die so the living can keep living.

THE END.

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

Share this:

  • Share
  • Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X
  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
Like Loading...

‘Ribbons Of Blood (5) The Final Chapter’

14 Saturday Sep 2019

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

blood, murder, olivetti, police, supernatural, typewriter, virginia

This story began about a year ago when acclaimed novelist Victor Bradstreet suffering a terrible bout of writers block drove to his cabin in the woods in rural Virginia to gain some inspiration.

Close to his destination he stopped at Alberts General Store to buy some supplies.

As he wandered the aisles Victor noticed an old beat up Olivetti typewriter sitting on a clearance table.

Thinking that the typewriter might be a lucky charm and inspire him to write again he bought the machine and went on his way.

On the first night while Victor slept the Olivetti typed a novel that went on to become a bestseller .

Afraid that the typewriter would steal his thunder Victor set fire to the machine in his backyard and despite being badly damaged the Olivetti refused to die and after recuperating it attacked Victor .

Unleashing it’s ink ribbons the typewriter strangled Victor than consumed his body without leaving a single drop of blood behind.

Over the following weeks the typewriter also disposed of Victors publisher Penelope Clutterbuck his daughter Abigail plus the investigating officer Detective Mike Peterson.

The Olivetti also killed a brave K9 dog named Monty owned by Trooper Clyde Ybanez.

The Olivetti was eventually captured by the FBI and imprisoned.

It was executed by firing squad than smelted down and recycled into steel cans.

But once again the Olivetti wasn’t ready to die and tiny pieces of steel detached from the cans and travelled along the highway all the way to Springwood Virginia and into the basement of the house owned by none other than Trooper Ybanez.

There the tiny pieces of steel melded together and three days later the Olivetti was back with a vengeance.

Startled to see the Olivetti in his basement Ybanez decides to use the murderous machine for his own selfish needs.

When his K9 dog Monty was killed by the typewriter Ybanez was tormented by two of his fellow officers,Detectives Kevin Godley and Lionel Crème.

Luring the two Detectives to a motel on the outskirts of town Trooper Ybanez waits down in the carpark and watches the two Detectives enter room 6 where they were ambushed and consumed by the hungry machine.

Feeling ashamed by what he has done Clyde and feeling the need to get rid of the evidence he wraps the unsuspecting typewriter in duct tape.

He loads the machine into his car and drives to a campground that he used to visit back in his younger days.

Feeling distraught and frightened Clyde failed to notice that the duct tape was beginning to fray.

He carried the Typewriter to the edge of a long drop shitter and threw it deep into the brown.

Rubbing his hands together thinking that his ordeal is finally over turns away to return home when he is taken by surprise as the typewriter unleashes the ribbons of blood.

They wrap around his throat and pull him down into the poo of turds.

‘Oh shit’ were Clyde’s last words before hit the surface and sank.

The Final Chapter

When he hit the murky water Trooper Ybanez had the good sense to close his mouth and hold his breath.

As the typewriter and Clyde sink deeper and deeper into the muck luckily for the trooper the Olivetti releases its stranglehold and wraps the ink ribbons around a tree root six feet below the surface.

Clyde has been holding his breath for over a minute and he knows that he hasn’t much time before he succumbs so using his police training plus hundreds of sessions spent in the gym he manages to grapple up the ribbons and stand on the root leaving only his face above the surface.

He just hopes that no one comes to use the shitter because he is right in the firing line .

But at the same it might be his only chance to escape from this hell hole.

Travelling salesman Dave Jenkins is in a happy mood because he is heading after ten days on the road , he nods his head to a classic Deep Purple song as he thinks about seeing his wife and kids again.

His stomach is full after pigging out on a huge bowl of chilli at a truck stop a half hour ago.

But as Purple gives way to Aerosmith Daves stomach starts to grumble and complain.

At first he isn’t that concerned because he has eaten chilli a thousand times before and it has always been a case of winding the window down and letting a few go and all in well in the world .

But now Dave knows that he doesn’t find a restroom soon than things could turn messy.

Dave clenches his butt cheeks tight as he desperately search looks out for a rest stop sign .

As his gut screams for mercy Dave realises that maybe he shouldn’t have eaten the chilli so fast but having not had anything to eat all day he scoffed down the bowl in record time and now he is paying a heavy price.

Than a huge sign catches his eye ‘South End Campground ‘ two miles ahead.

Breathing a huge sigh of relief Dave parks close to a shitter and walks inside loosening his belt and dropping his pants before taking a seat above a long drop.

Feeling exposed Dave just wants to do his business and be on his way but nothing is happening.

‘That would be right ,I am ready to launch a torpedo but the hatch is closed’

Below Dave’s lily white butt Trooper Ybanez was close to giving up hope of being rescued plus half expecting the Olivetti to grab him by the ankles and drag him down.

‘HELP’ he screams up to the nasty looking crack blocking the sun.

Peering down between his legs Dave is surprised to see a face staring up at him ‘What are you doing down there son ? Did you fall in ?’ Never mind just hang on and I will go fetch some rope’

Pulling up his pants Dave grabs a length of rope and hurries back to the trapped shit covered soul.

In all of the excitement his bowels have turned to concrete and it will probably take a jackhammer to gouge out his next stool.

But he can’t worry about that now,he has a man to save and there and there is no time to lose.

Trooper Ybanez is down to his last reserve ‘s of strength when the rope is lowered down into the abyss .

He quickly ties the rope under his arms and gives it a yank’OK pull me up before my entire world turns to shit’

Dave yells’Hang on buddy,i will tie the other end to my bumper and get you out of there’

And a minute later a brown water logged figure is pulled from the hole.

Dave appears with a blanket and a bottle of water but the stench stops him in his tracks. ‘Holy shit buddy ,you smell worse than a dead skunk left out in the sun too long’

Clyde wants to scream at his rescuer ‘Well I have been stuck down in a shitter for over seven hours’ but he just smiles glad to be alive.

He peels off his shit soaked clothes and shivers in shock as the good Samaritan hoses him down from head to toe ‘There you go buddy almost as good as new ,now wrap yourself in the blanket and I can be on my way’

The two men embrace “Thanks for saving my life Dave ,my name is Clyde Ybanez by the way,if you are ever down near Springwood call in and I will buy you a beer’ Dave waves farewell and drives away,

Clyde waits a minute to compose himself before climbing into his car and heads home hoping that he never sets foot in that campground again.

Before he joins the highway he glances back at the shitter and screams at the Olivetti ” Die motherfucker die’

Fifteen feet beneath the fetid water a muffled voice replies “see you soon Trooper Ybanez see you soon’

Three months later

Trooper Ybanez has returned to the Springwood police department in the K9 unit.

His life is somewhat stable after his ordeal with the crazy typewriter and his dip in the shitter.

He still feels guilty about his role in having his two colleagues Detectives Godley and Crème killed by the Olivetti.

Now his main issue is personel hygiene , he showers at least three times a day and applies deordorant hourly.

But that is a small price to pay to still be alive and even though he might smell better and has returned to work he cant quite shake the feeling that he hasn’t seen the last from the blood thirsty Olivetti deep down in the shitter.

Back at the campground a big truck emblazoned with ‘We Suck Shit So You Don’t Have To’ down both sides backs up and parks ten meters from the shitter.

The driver a huge bear of a man with more tattoo’s than a Mexican drug lord climbs down from his rig.

Percy Hollister has been sucking shit for 35 years and he is happy to do so .it might be a stinker of a job but someone has to do it plus the pay is pretty damn good.

He drags a huge suction hose to the edge of the long drop and throws it into the cesspool.

As the hose sucks up the liquid turds Percy lights a cigarette to help pass the time ( even though there is enough methane gas in the air to launch a space shuttle ).

As he draws the smoke into his lungs he listens to country music blaring from the rigs sound system.

Between drags he sings along with ‘Someone Stole My Dog ( But Left My Girlfriend Behind ) oblivious to the danger nearby.

If he knew what is lurking down among the turds he would throw his cigarette away and get the fuck out of there.

A loud crunching sound coming from the shitter grabs his attention ‘What in the fuck now’ he mutters as he strides towards the shitter.

He peers down and is surprised to see a square object blocking the hose sabotaging his chance to finish the job and go home and have a few beers and maybe have a snuggle with his wife Cindy Lou.

Despite his best efforts to remove the object it reuses to budge so with no other option Percy hauls in the hose to remove the object by hand and when the hose reaches the surface Percy recognizes the culprit as a vintage Olivetti typewriter.

Having worked in the effluent business for many years Percy is no longer surprised at what some people throw into the sewer system.

His home is full of discarded items that after a wash in hot soapy water gave them a new lease on life.

And Percy is positive that with a good scrub the Olivetti will become a great addition to his collection or fetch top dollar at auction.

Holding his breath places the shit covered typewriter into a burlap sack and he leaves the campground completely unaware that he is travelling with the stowaway from hell.

Percy arrives home two hours later and is happy to see his wife waiting for him ,he climbs down from his rig carrying the foul smelling sack ‘Christ Percy what have you brought home this time? It smells like death warmed up’

‘Sorry Cindy Lou it is an old typewriter that I retrieved from a long drop over near Springwood’

‘Well don’t you dare take that chunk of crap into the house ,put it in the mudroom straight away before my nose falls off my face in fright’

Percy shakes his head in annoyance but he does what his wife asks and takes the machine into the mudroom for a good scrub down and twenty minutes later the discarded Olivetti shines like a diamond in the rough.

Pleased with a job well done Percy heads inside for a well deserved beer or two but unfortunately there was no snuggle for Percy that night.

Cindy Lou loves Percy dearly but she is tired of all the stinking crap that he brings home from work everyday.

But she has to admit that she is intrigued by the typewriter that he brought home yesterday so once her husband goes to work she enters the mudroom and is immediately dazzled by the Olivetti’s brilliance.

The machine must have been manufactured over forty years ago ,now it looks like it just rolled off the production line so Cindy Lou vows to apoligise to Percy when he gets home because she is certain that the typewriter could fetch up to $1,000 on Ebay.

She is deciding whether to buy a new pair of shoes with the money or spend big on a complete makeover when

kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk

‘Huh?’ Cindy Lou blinks in astonishment as the keys on the typewriter go up and down. ‘What in the fuck?’ Still no quite believing what she is seeing Cindy Lou peers in for a closer look and sure enough the keys are moving so she leans in even closer.

Typewriters were invented to create words but this Olivetti prefers action and it strikes with deadly force.

Cindy Lou is taken completely by surprise and offers little resistance as the ribbons of blood choke off her airways and pull her into the machine.

It has been a long time since the Olivetti ate a decent blood meal and it savours every drop as Cindy Lou’s body is pulverised into a pulp that will sustain the typewriter for weeks.

Ten hours later Percy arrives home hungry and also hoping that Cindy Lou has thawed out a bit because he really could do with some loving tonight.

He is wearing a watch that someone lost down a shitter ,sure it might be a bit on the nose but it keeps perfect time .

Feeling lucky Percy calls out to his wife ‘Hey Cindy Lou how about we go to that fancy Italian restaurant that you like than come home and fool around a bit?’

Percy is a little puzzled when his wife doesn’t answer because it is late and she is usually home ,maybe she is having a lie down?’

But upon entering the bedroom his wife is still nowhere to be found.

Now Percy is really starting to get worried because Cindy Lou is usually home to greet him when he arrives from work.

Feeling frantic Percy again looks at the clock and decides that if Cindy Lou isn’t home in two hours he will call the police.

Than he remembers that he hasn’t checked the mudroom yet ‘But surely his wife would have heard him calling out?’

Hurrying into the mudroom Percy calls out his wives name but the room is empty except for a shiny Olivetti looking like the cat that swallowed the cream.

Percy is amazed at how brand new and pristine the typewriter appears to be ,he only gave it a spit and a polish but this Olivetti looks like a spanking new machine.

Percy notices a small blemish and on closer inspection he gasps at the sight of a single drop of blood ‘Did Cindy Lou cut herself and go to the hospital?’

Concerned for his wives welfare Percy loses focus for a second and the Olivetti strikes.

Hungry for another blood meal it shoots out the ink ribbons that wrap around his wrist and pull his hand into the mechanism.

Soon Percy’s whole arm is chewed and swallowed like scraps disappearing down a garbage disposal.

He fights and pleads for his life but he soon loses strength and is devoured limb by limb until every morsel of meat is eaten so now Percy is nothing but a memory.

The disappearance of Percy and Cindy Lou Hollister continues to baffle the authorities to this day,Did the couple run away to start a new life somewhere? Were they abducted by aliens?

How can two people just vanish without a trace?

The case soon goes cold and six months later the family home is sold to a couple from New York looking for a sea change while the furniture and appliances were sold to a local dealer for a song.

The Olivetti unwanted by the dealer was passed on to Albert Finnegan the owner of Albert’s General Store.

The very store that Victor Bradstreet the acclaimed novelist first encountered the typewriter twelve months back.

The Olivetti once again sits on a clearance table gathering dust waiting for a new owner to buy it and give it a home.

The typewriter could have easily killed Albert or any of the customers that came into his establishment but the Olivetti has bigger fish to fry.

It plans on eating one last Mac Happy meal before going into hibernation for a century or two.

And that meal will be Trooper Clyde Ybanez.

Ten miles away Clyde is doing a spot of fishing on the bank of the Shenandoah River but he isn’t having much luck.

The trout aren’t biting and Clyde is having a hard time concentrating on his favorite past hobby all because he just cant shake the feeling the crazy typewriter that he threw in the shitter has somehow escaped and is looking at wiping the late clean.

Knowing that the only fish he will ear today will be covered in batter and deep fried Trooper Ybanez packs up his rods and drives his Subaru into town.

Twenty minutes he pulls into the carpark in front of Albert’s General Store but as soon as he opens the car door the same weird feeling he had back at the river settles in the pit of his stomach.

Drawing his service revolver Trooper Ybanez enters the store where he is greeted by the owner ‘Whoa what is going on Clyde? I don’t think my prices are that bad.’

‘Sorry Albert but I thought you had a situation here my mistake,but I have to tell you that your frozen turkeys are a bit on the expensive side.’

Holstering his weapon Trooper Ybanez shares a laugh with Albert but the strange feeling remains.

He orders his lunch than decides to grab a few essentials while waiting for the fish to cook.

Deciding whether to buy a loaf of sourdough or rolls Trooper glances up and his world falls in.

Sitting thirty feet away staring back at him is his nemesis the evil Olivetti typewriter.

Surely there is more than one Olivetti in the world Clyde tells himself but deep down in his bowels he knows that this is the same typewriter from the shitter.

kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk

Looking back he screams ‘Albert get the fuck out of here right now and lock the door behind you NOW ALBERT NOW’

‘Hello Trooper Ybanez so we meet again’

I have been waiting for you Trooper Ybanez because I have to return to hell soon and I plan on taking you with me so I can have a snack on the way’

‘Or better yet I will keep you alive and torture the shit out of you for eternity’

‘Buckle up buddy cause you are going for a ride’

Trooper Ybanez knows that there is only once course of action open to him, he needs to killer the mother fucking typewriter and this time for good.

No more Mr Nice Guy.

‘Fuck you and the horse you rode in on you key tapping dinosaur ,I don’t like the heat so tell the devil to go fuck himself’

Knowing that his words with enrage the typewriter Trooper Ybanez braces for what is to come and he isn’t disappointed.

The ink ribbons might be the Olivetti’s weapon of choice but they are also its biggest weakness.

When the Olivetti unleashes the ribbons of blood Clyde grabs them and ties the murder weapons to a support beam than using a crowbar from aisle three he jams the tool into typewriters mechanism.

Now the machine is disarmed and ready for the taking but the fucking thing can still type ‘Well done Trooper Ybanez see you on the flip side’

Clyde watches in amazement as the typewriter liquefies and flows through the cracks between the floorboards as it travels towards earths core.

The evil Olivetti is now back in hell where it belongs.

‘Home sweet home asshole ,don’t come back anytime soon’

THE END

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and could you please consider making a donation to go towards my dream of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

Share this:

  • Share
  • Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X
  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
Like Loading...

The Stairwell

06 Saturday Jul 2019

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

death, england, horror, murder, supernatural, violence

The summer of 2016 was unseasonably warm in northern England and Alistair Craddick a ruddy cheeked eight year old is outside enjoying the sun.

His favourite place to play is down by a creek that runs behind the house that he shares with his mother Beatrice.

Alistair sometimes hangs out with a couple of school friends but today he is on his lonesome.

A position that he prefers.

Some of the kids at his School are cruel to Alistair calling him nasty names like creep,weirdo,crybaby and mummy’s boy.

But Alistair is none of these things he is just a little shy and a bit different.

This morning he is collecting tadpoles and frogs from the creek and putting them in a jar to take home to cut open with a sharp pocket knife that he nicked from a neighbors shed a few months back.

Every time Alistair uses the knife he thinks about the kids who are mean to him and wishes that he could get some payback and hopefully one day he will.

The dark thoughts that are swirling around his brain has made him very hungry very hungry indeed.

So he puts the lid on the glass jar and heads towards home ;I wonder what mummy has made for lunch?’

They say that the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree and in Alistair’s case the saying is somewhat true.

He likes to read and watch cricket on the telly just like his daddy did before he left home when Alistair was five.

And even though he want admit it he is a bit like his mother having a mean streak and a liking for all kinds of fatty foods.

Beatrice Craddick is a built like a brick outhouse with a temper that could scare the paint from the walls.

She has been described as a cross between nurse Ratched and Agatha Trunchbull a character in the movie Matilda.

And if you ever have the misfortune to meet her you will find it hard to disagree.

Alistair is well aware that his mother can be a little moody so he sneaks inside on tippy toes to try and avoid her wrath but a creaking floorboard gives him away’Is that you Alistair?

‘I hope that you have taken your shoes off because you know that i hate dirt in the house’

Her son cowers at her voice because he knows that she hasn’t finished yet’What are you hiding behind your back Alistair? Don’t you dare tell me that it is another jar of critters because you know what happened last time’

Alistair begins to shake uncontrollably because he remembers all too well what happened the last time he made his mother upset.

His body still hurts from the beating she gave him with a wooden spoon before throwing him in a heap beneath the stairwell.

Alistair looks down at his sneakers afraid to meet her eye then he sneaks a quick look over to the stairwell’Please mummy not the stairwell you know i can’t breathe in there plus last time i saw a cockroach as big as a bird’

‘Stop your whining you little shit before i skin you alive and feed your bones to the dog’

Alistair tries to run but his mother grabs him by the scruff of the neck and drags him to the cupboard door and shoves him inside the stairwell.

The door is locked and Alistair is now in complete darkness with nothing but a jar of critters and his thoughts for company.

Beatrice spends the rest of the day watching the soaps on TV as she devours glass after glass of her favorite red.

The wine muddles her mind and scrambles any rational thoughts until she reaches the point of no return.

Her boyfriend Joe has been nagging her for weeks about moving in with her and Alistair.

But Joe and Alistair have never got along so Beatrice knows that if she is to live happily ever after with Joe than her annoying son will have to disappear forever.

She crushes ten sleeping tablets into a glass of water unlocks the cupboard beneath the stairwell and hands the concoction to her son which the gulps down’Goodbye little one i shall see you again when i to reach the other side’

Alistair has no idea what his loopy mother is talking about but he smiles ‘Goodbye mummy’ than he closes his eyes and drifts into an eternal sleep.

But before he departs this world he whispers’Why mummy why? All i ever wanted was love’

Alistair’s body might of left us but his lost lonely soul is still very much alive.

Six months later

Beatrice Craddick the she devil who murdered her own son and had him entombed beneath the stairwell in her home is a troubled being because her diabolical deed is coming back to haunt her.

A week after she killed her son Beatrice she had a brick wall built to completely seal the stairwell and vanish any thoughts of her son forever.

But yesterday while she was doing some housework Beatrice almost died of fright when she heard a strange noise coming from the stairwell.

Now this morning as she prepares breakfast the same noise emits from her sons final resting place.

She slowly walks over to the stairwell and places an ear to the brick work.

Scritch scratch scritch scratch scritch scratch.

Beatrice thinks that a cat or maybe a hedgehog has somehow found a way into the stairwell and is trying to get out but she isn’t quite sure so she has another listen’Why did you kill me mummy?I always tried to be a good little boy so why mummy why?’

Beatrice let out a strangled yelp before her eyes rolled back in her head than she landed on the floor with a thud that shook the foundations.

In the stairwell Alistair’s tormented soul twirls and twists in midair whilst beneath him a skeletal finger moves back and forth along the inside of the confined space.

Scritch scratch scritch scratch scritch scratch

Joe Brummel,Beatrice’s dead beat boyfriend arrives home to find her sprawled over the living room floor.

He slaps her face a few times and soon after Beatrice comes around’What happened Beatrice did you have a dizzy spell?’

Beatrice is struck mute so all she can do is point a trembling hand towards the stairwell’What do you mean Beatrice tell me right this minute’

Receiving nothing but a strangled grunt in response Joe loses his temper and gives Beatrice a few savages kicks before storming out in a rage.

Beatrice crawls over to the stairwell and whispers’I am sorry Alistair,can you ever forgive me?’She puts her ear against the cold brick and listens but all she hears is

Scritch scratch scritch scratch scratch scratch

Sobbing in pain and regret she goes into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea and to give herself a few quite moments to think.

As she stirs a sugar cube into her cuppa the scratching in the stairwell gets louder and more intense.

Beatrice covers her ears in an attempt to block out the noise but the scratching from the stairwell just gets louder and louder.

In utter torment Beatrice scurries over to the stairwell carrying the teaspoon she used to stir her tea and begins to scrape at the mortar between the bricks.

For hours she scrapes away until her knuckles bleed and her shoulders ache but she makes little headway.

Behind the brick wall only four foot away Alistair’s bones jangle and jump as his soul dances around himknowing that a new beginning is nigh.

Beatrice is still scraping furiously at the mortar when an angry voice stops her in her tracks’What are you doing you silly cow?’

Joe stands in the middle of the room with eyes ablaze in anger and Beatrice has had enough of his bullshit’What does it look like you stupid prick i am trying to reach my son’

Joe just laughs’Hahaha what will you do then call the police?’

But Beatrice isn’t backing down ‘Pack your bags Joe and get the fuck out of my house and don’t come back’

‘I am going to the pub’Joe retorts’And when i return i will teach you a lesson that you will never forget’

In the stairwell Alistair’s bones are still doing the merry dance but now both of his bony hands scratch the walls of his prison at a furious rate.

As soon as her arsehole boyfriend leaves Beatrice gathers up all of his clothes and belongings and throws everything out onto the front lawn.

Than she rings the local locksmith to have the locks changed.

Beatrice sobs tears of pain and sorrow knowing that she wasn’t a very good mother to her son.

Than committing the ultimate sin and killing her own flesh and blood and entombing him in the stairwell.

How could she have been so mean and stupid?

Six hours later Joe arrives home in a good mood having won a meat tray and $500 on the poker machines.

But his mood soon turns sour when he notices his stuff strewn all over the front grass.

‘What in the fuck?’

His blood is boiling as he approaches the front door and when his key fails to work he goes ballistic screaming obscenities while he kicks repeatedly at the door.

In the stairwell Alistair’s soul twists and twirls in anger at the commotion.

Twirling counter clockwise the angry soul whips up the contents of the glass jar that Alistair was carrying on the day that he was murdered and one hundred tadpole and frog husks plus an assortment of flies and cockroaches that have littered the stairwell fly through a small gap made by Beatrice’s teaspoon and Alistair’s finger tips and descend on Joe like a biblical plague.

Joe is still swearing and shaking his fists when he is forever silenced when the horde of insects enter his mouth before he has the sense to shut it.

Beatrice rushes to the stairwell as the brick wall begins to crumble and fall.

A bony hand emerges first quickly followed by a skeleton in a somewhat human form.

Beatrice screams in total horror when she recognizes the being as her son Alistair.

‘Hello mummy have you missed me?’

THE END

Keep an eye out for part two coming soon

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and could you please consider making a donation to go towards my dream of becoming a fulltime writer, Thanks again Steven.

Share this:

  • Share
  • Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X
  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
Like Loading...

Stories After Midnight ( 2 )

30 Saturday Mar 2019

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

evil, ghost, murder, power, soul, supernatural

My name is Warren Bigelow and in part one of this story i told you how i got a job after visiting my local library.

Desperate for work i stumbled across a business card posted on the community notice board.

The employer apex industries were seeking a handyman who also liked to read.

Well i would read books 24/7 if i could but i am not very handy on the tools so i replaced the business card and made my way home.

Imagine my surprise when the next day i received a phone call from the owner of apex industries Daphne Pincombe offering me the job sight unseen. ( I still don’t know how she got hold of my phone number )

I explain to her that i am not very good working with tools ‘That is alright Warren i just know that you are the perfect person to fill the position’

So i find myself accepting her job offer and i arrive at my new workplace a little before midnight .

I am greeted by an elderly lady who introduces herself ‘Hello Warren pleased to meet you and i don’t mean to offend you but you have been visiting me in my dreams for the last few months so it is nice to finally meet you in person’

To say that i was shocked and a little creeped out would be an understatement but i stay silent and listen as she continues to talk ‘Dont worry about the handyman part of the job description it is really your ability with words that got you the job’

‘Every night we will be visiting clients in their homes at hospital or wherever your special skills are needed’

‘And after many years experience i have found that after midnight is the best time to achieve maximum results’

Daphne reaches out and grabs my hand’Warren i am sure that you have noticed that i am rather old and when i die i want you to carry on my legacy for many years to come’

So tell me all about your special power Warren’

I have no idea what Daphne is talking about’What special power?

‘Don’t worry Warren you obviously haven;t had the need to use it yet but i have seen your special power in action when you visited me in my dreams and i am sure you will utilize it when you have to’

The first three weeks at my new job went fast with nothing out of the ordinary happening but that all changed one night when we visited a young girl in hospital who had lost the will to live after a horse riding accident left her a quadriplegic.

After reading to the frightened teen all night with no effect the girl closed her eyes and said goodbye to the world.

Well i was having none of that so with not really knowing what i was doing i pointed my fingers towards her and blue sparks flew from my finger tips striking her with recharged energy that pulled her out of the funk leaving her sleeping peacefully.

Around Christmas time Daphne arrived at work in a distressed state and after drinking a strong cup of coffee she told me the reason why ‘Warren a evil mass rapist and murderer from the 1920’s named Cedric Otis invaded my dreams and turned it into a living nightmare’

Warren Otis died by in 1947 after being sentenced to death and soon after he died strapped to an electric chair’

‘Otis might be dead Warren but his demonic spirit still wanders the dark corridors of the afterlife and every now and then he enters my dreams in an attempt to kill me because he sees my goodness as a threat and i am afraid that if he visits me again he will be successful in his quest’

Daphne soon after becomes a shell of herself barely able to function and fight off the evil fucker Cedric Otis’

Will Warren be able to save Daphne in time ? Or will his entire world br turned upside down/

To find the answers to these questions just continue to read.

PART TWO.

It is with a heavy heart that i tell that my dear friend Daphe Pincombe passed away last night.

She will be greatly missed my me and also the people she has saved with her words of wisdom over many years.

Just before she died Daphne held my hand and said’ Remember Warren that Cedric Otis will target you now that my time is nigh so beware’

Then Daphne closed her eyes and passed over to the other side and not for the first time i soon realized .

A few days later i received a letter from Daphne’s solicitor asking me to attend his office for the reading of her last will and testament.

And imagine my surprise when upon arrival he informed me that i was Daphne’s sole beneficiary.

Now i own Apex Industries along with Daphne’s home plus various shares and annuities.

Daphne and i were only acquainted for a few months but she obviously saw me as some sort of kindred spirit so now my only desire is to live up to her expectations and make her proud.

Ten days later i arrived at Apex Industries to start a new chapter in my life but more importantly carry on Daphne’s legacy.

Walking into my new office a wave of fear overtook me when it hit me that i was completely out of my depth but i should have known that Daphne wouldn’t have left me in the lurch because sitting front and center on her desk was a single sheet of paper.

Dear Warren thank you for being a great friend and employee, sorry to leave you so soon but i am sure that we will meet again one day.’

‘I don’t mean to scare you Warren but you want gain new clients via email or phone instead you will hear voices when you daydream and while you sleep at night’

‘Please don’t be alarmed Warren because the voices wish you no harm they belong to people who have died and their only concern is for a relative or friend who are having suicidal thoughts or who need some strong words of advice before they self harm’

And understand Warren that you want be able to save everyone in distress because some people will be beyond your reach’

Plus Warren please heed my earlier warning concerning Cedric Otis because he will sometimes visit your dreams and thoughts in an attempt to mess with your mind’

Otis is the meanest fucker currently residing here on the other side and his wish is to gather enough souls so he can once again walk among the living causing pain and sorrow to innocents along his travels’

‘I am sorry that i have placed you in danger Warren but you are the only person capable of killing Otis once and for all’

‘Use your words and super power wisely because Otis has been slain three times already but the arsehole refuses to die’

PS If you need any help just holler’

It has now been three weeks since Daphne left this world and in that time no one has talked to me in my dreams or thoughts and i have to admit that i am getting a little worried because like everybody else i have bills to pay and put food on the table.

I decide to take a nap on the office couch to pass the day and hopefully a client will visit my sleep and offer me a chance to show off my skills.

And i am in luck because a scratchy voice enters my head and begins to talk ‘Warren my name is May Collins and i died in 2006 aged 74 years and i have been watching over my family ever since and lately i have become concerned about my niece Sharon who it seems wants to join me over here in eternal motion’

‘She is only 26 years old and has a lot of living to do before she comes to stay with me so please help me if you can Warren’

I wake not quite knowing where i am but i remember the voice in my dream then notice that i have written a name and address on a notepad.

So i take a quick shower to shake off the cobwebs before i drive over to Parramatta where Sharon Collins resides and just after midnight i use my trusty screwdriver to enter her humble abode.

Sharon is asleep in her bed and judging by the empty wine bottles strewn around the room she has had a hard night.

May’s niece obviously has some problems but i am here to perform a service and hopefully save her from herself so i reach into my backpack for a copy of ‘Wuthering Heights’ and begin to read.

Just as begin chapter ten of Sharons favourite book a small smile creases her face and her eyes flicker behind the closed lids.

My reading is having the desired affect so i finish the book then lean close and whisper in her ear ‘Sharon your Aunt May has been in touch and even though she loves you deeply she doesn’t want you to cross over until you are old and grey’

‘She wants you to be happy and enjoy a long life’ Sharon nods in understanding and for the first time in years has a peaceful sleep.

Over the following couple of months i have travelled all over the state visiting people in need after a deceased relative contacted me for assistance.

I have read books by Stephen King ,James Patterson ,Anne Rice plus old classics by Dickens ,Robert Louis Stevenson and Poe plus a personal message for them from beyond the grave.

And so far i haven’t had to use my super power plus Cedric Otis has been conspicuously absent.

Having dead people invading my daydreams and visiting me while i sleep has started to wear thin and is affecting my health.

I know that i am doing good and helping people in their hour of need but the constant invasion of my head space is really taking a toll.

Everytime my mind wanders a voice enters my brain asking for my help regarding a relative who wishes to enter the after life before their due date.

I want to help but i am only one man and i am starting to believe that i have taken on too much.

But i keep on helping night after night even though i am feeling worn out and then things take a turn for the worse one rainy night in December when an evil voice turns a dream into a nightmare ‘Hello motherfucker stop interfering with the food chain’

‘If the tortured souls and broken hearted want to venture over to my side of the fence then let them’

‘Because if you keep sticking your nose into my business i will bite off your tongue and eat it’

‘Lets how well you can talk then’

‘How am i supposed to fill my belly on the carcasses of the suffering fools if you keep meddling?’

‘So keep your nose clean or suffer the consequences ‘

I sit bolt upright in bed knowing that my visitor was none other than Cedric Otis who was executed for a string of violent crimes in 1899 but unfortunately he continues to travel the highways and byways of hell feasting on the lost souls that get a little too close.

I drink three cups of coffee in an attempt to stay awake but i am dog tired and soon i drift away.

And Otis hasn’t quite finished with me yet ‘ Still with me you little shit? Here is a taste of the pain i will inflict if you defy me’

I try to wake up but my eyes refuse to open and in my minds eye i see a silver glint flashing in front of me and when the pain hits i realise that Otis is slashing me with a knife.

The pain is horrendous and still i don’t wake then thankfully a friendly voice talks to me from her freshly dug plot’ Don’t worry Warren’ Daphne says’ I am here now so stay calm and i will have you all stitched up ready to face a brand new day’

I woke at 6 am with a full bladder with a face that feels like it has been stung by one thousand hornet’s.

As i wrestle with Mr Johnson i sneak a look at the bathroom mirror and a bruised stitched up stranger stares back at me.

My face is swollen with 50 stitches criss cross from ear to ear.

I didn’t expect to be attacked by a long dead when i signed up at Apex Industries but here i find myself carved up like a roast turkey and sporting more stitches than a cricket ball.

Then i remember Daphne’s kind words and her belief in me so i swallow my pride and scream down into the bowels of hell ‘Fuck you Mr fucking Otis and the horse you rode in on’

I know that i am fighting with fire but i cant let an evil man like Cedric Otis destroy all of Daphne’s good work.

Now i am even more determined to destroy Otis once and for all.

And i still have my super power up my sleeve .

I have only used it once with no idea how to use it or garner its strength.

The power helped me save a young girl on my first week on the job so i am confident that my power will save me if i am put in mortal danger.

Deep down beneath the soil Cedric Otis body was long ago eaten by assorted worms and beetles but his evil soul and spirit are still very much alive.

He visits the vulnerable when they are at their lowest tempting them to come down into his lair where he can devour them at his leisure.

Cedric is also wary of that interfering arsehole Warren Bigelow who might look like a wimp but the turd has been his toughest opponent so far along with that old bitch Daphne Pincombe.

It is almost 3 am on a cold winters night and Warren is at work reading the latest thriller by David Baldacci to a teenager who if he doesn’t mend his ways will soon be in the company of Cedric Otis.

Warren is a big Baldacci fan so he reads the book with passion giving voice to every character and his client strapped to his hospital bed dreams long forgotten happy thoughts.

As he drives home after another successful shift Warren sings along with an old eagles song and for a second he lets his mind wander and that is just the opening that Cedric was waiting for.

A stench fills the interior of Warrens car that almost makes him lose control of the Corolla.

Warren gags in distress as the smell of decomposition renders him useless for a few seconds but he soon joins the land of the living when the voice of Cedric Otis pipes up from the passenger ‘Last time i let you off with a few cuts and bruises but this time i am playing for keeps.’

Warren braces himself for the onslaught to come but nothing happens then a familiar kind voice whispers in his ear. ‘Keep calm and vigilant Warren’ Daphne says ‘Remember that good will always triumph over evil so keep that fucker out of your head and you will prevail’

Arriving home alive and in one piece Warren collapses on his couch knowing that he has just dodged a bullet.

If Daphne hadn’t intervened when she did Warren knows that he would be dead meat right now.

Warren enters the kitchen to brew a huge pot of coffee because he plans on staying awake for the foreseeable future because he knows that if he lets Cedric Otis into his mind again then he wont survive this time.

He also knows that he can no longer work for Apex Industries because he is completely emotionally and physically drained.

After 36 hours with no sleep Warrens eyelids say enough is enough and close.

He is now the mercy of the gods and thankfully for him Daphne gets to him first. Warren don’t be so hard on yourself because Cedric Otis is a forminable opponent with a heart full of black’

‘And Warren my dear boy you have a heart of gold and a power that Otis doesn’t know you possess’

‘So use your power along with some words of wisdom and you will defeat that prick ‘

For sixteen hours Warren wrestles with his sheets and thoughts and luckily Otis is preoccupied elsewhere.

Feeling refreshed and invigorated Warren now knows exactly what he needs to do.

That evil piece of shit Cedric Otis needs to die again.

And this time for good.

Warren is now confident that he has the tools and skill to defeat Otis and send him back to hell on a one way ticket.

Then he stumbles and almost falls when Otis once again enters his brain ‘Hello Warren have you missed me? Y’know Warren i kind of like living inside your head and i have no plans to move out anytime soon’

‘I have conquered you Warren so now we are one and the same’

‘Now we can travel the mystical highway as one devouring lost souls and broken hearts’

Warren tries to respond but the words wont come so he now has only one course of action left to him.

He concentrates with his last vestige of strength and soon the static electricity leaves the room and enters his body then he shoves all ten fingers under the ribs of Otis and fires.

Blue sparks and flame pierce Otis skin and his internal organs are cooked and electrified.

Otis collapses and is dead before he hits the ground but Warren knows that the evil prick has already died a few times this century and last so he stays vigilant and waits .

Four hours later an apparition leaves Otis body and begins to float away back to the safety of hell but Warren isn’t having any of that ‘Not this time motherfucker the world has had enough of your evil presence so your soul doesn’t deserve to live to fight another day’

And with that Warren points a finger skyward and shoots that soul into oblivion.

THE END.

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and could you consider making a donation to go towards my goal of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

Share this:

  • Share
  • Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X
  • Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
Like Loading...

Subscribe

  • Entries (RSS)
  • Comments (RSS)

Archives

  • December 2025
  • November 2025
  • October 2024
  • September 2024
  • August 2024
  • June 2024
  • January 2024
  • November 2023
  • October 2023
  • March 2023
  • January 2023
  • May 2022
  • January 2022
  • September 2021
  • August 2021
  • February 2021
  • October 2020
  • August 2020
  • February 2020
  • January 2020
  • November 2019
  • October 2019
  • September 2019
  • August 2019
  • July 2019
  • June 2019
  • March 2019
  • February 2019
  • January 2019
  • December 2018
  • November 2018
  • October 2018
  • September 2018
  • August 2018
  • July 2018
  • June 2018
  • May 2018
  • April 2018
  • March 2018
  • February 2018
  • January 2018
  • December 2017
  • October 2017
  • September 2017
  • August 2017
  • July 2017
  • June 2017
  • May 2017
  • April 2017
  • March 2017
  • February 2017
  • January 2017
  • December 2016
  • November 2016
  • October 2016
  • September 2016
  • August 2016
  • July 2016
  • June 2016
  • May 2016
  • April 2016
  • March 2016
  • February 2016
  • January 2016
  • December 2015
  • November 2015
  • October 2015
  • September 2015
  • August 2015
  • July 2015
  • June 2015
  • May 2015
  • April 2015
  • March 2015
  • February 2015
  • January 2015
  • December 2014
  • November 2014
  • October 2014
  • September 2014
  • August 2014

Categories

  • poems
  • stories
  • Uncategorized

Meta

  • Create account
  • Log in

Blog at WordPress.com.

  • Subscribe Subscribed
    • stevenjohnstonblog
    • Join 72 other subscribers
    • Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
    • stevenjohnstonblog
    • Subscribe Subscribed
    • Sign up
    • Log in
    • Report this content
    • View site in Reader
    • Manage subscriptions
    • Collapse this bar
%d