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This story began a few months ago and i told you how world renowned novelist Victor Bradstreet drove up to his cabin in rural Virginia in an attempt to fix a severe case of writers block.

A few miles from his cabin he stopped at a general store to stock up on some supplies and as he wandered the aisles he came across an old olivetti typewriter sitting on a clearance table.

Victor bought the typewriter thinking that it might give him some inspiration to start writing again.

But the olivetti did more than that, while Victor slept off a hangover on the first night at his cabin he typewriter worked through the night and wrote Victor a best seller.

In return the olivetti asked for a taste of Victors blood to replenish its lustre so that it could return to its original showroom style.

But Victor wasn’t prepared to shed a single drop of his blood even though the typewriter had produced a novel that would sell over 10 million copies.

Instead he tried to destroy the olivetti which only made matters worse and that led to Victor being strangled by the typewriters ink ribbons.

And Victor was consumed and disappeared without trace.

A week later Victor was reported missing by the owner of his publishing Penelope Clutterbuck after repeated unanswered phone calls.

And because Victor was a celebrity the lead Detective of the Springwood Police was dispatched to the cabin in the woods.

And upon arrival Detective Dane Peterson searched the cabin with a fine tooth comb and turned up nothing.

He never once suspecting the shiny olivetti typewriter looking all sweet and innocent on the kitchen table.

In New York the conniving Penelope Clutterbuck is mourning the lose of her cash cow so she decides to drive over to Victors cabin in the hope of finding a finished manuscript.

On arriving at the cabin she breaks a window to gain access and on finding no manuscript she goes into the kitchen for a glass of water.

kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk

Penelope spins around in surprise to see a surprisingly new looking old typewriter typing away.

She leans in to see what is written and she to is strangled by the ribbons of blood and swallowed down leaving not even one drop of blood behind.

A few days later Victors daughter Abigail arrives at the cabin where she is greeted by Detective Peterson .

Abigail is surprised to see her fathers publishers car parked in the driveway that bitch Penelope has made millions from her fathers books so what in the fuck does she want now?

Detective Peterson was also surprised to see the car and after checking the tags he learnt that the car belongs to a Penelope Clutterbuck from New York city.

‘Hello Detective what has Penelope got to say for herself?’

‘Nothing so far because like your father she to has disappeared without trace’

‘What surely she is here somewhere?’

Peterson shakes his head and leads Abigail into the cabin ‘Have a look around and tell me if anything looks out of place or missing’

Abigail goes from room to room but doesn’t see anything unusual until she enters the kitchen ‘Jesus this piece of shit typewriter must be over fifty years old so why does it look it just rolled off the production line?’

kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk

Abigail almost has a heart attack at the sound of the olivetti and even though she is frightened she leans in close to see what has be written and there are only two words.


Part Three

Abigail composes herself and calls out to Peterson ‘Detective can you come into the kitchen please’

When Peterson enters the room Abigail simply points at the typewriter in horror ‘I swear to you Detective that i haven’t touched the typewriter it typed the words itself ‘

‘And i know that you will think that i am crazy but i am positive that this machine had something to do with the disappearance and probable murder of my father and Penelope Clutterbuck’

The olivetti knows that if it doesn’t act immediately then the jig might be up

so it begins to type.

kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk

Both Peterson and Abigail jump at the sound of the keys pounding away and instead of escaping they lean in to read what the olivetti has written

‘Run Abigail run’ Peterson screams but it way too late and they are both entangled by the ribbons of blood and within minutes they are dead and Peterson is devoured while Abigail is wrapped up tight and left on the floor to be eaten at the olivetti’s leisure.

Three hours later the olivetti eats Abigail and while it is digesting it’s meal the ribbons of blood scour every surface of the kitchen until every last drop of blood is mopped up leaving behind a sparkling kitchen and an olivetti that has no concept of portion size.

As the olivetti is snacking on Abigail Detective Peterson’s colleagues at Springwood police station are concerned by his failure to report in so a squad car is sent to Victor’s cabin to check on his welfare.

And when the two uniformed officers arrive they notice three cars parked out front but there is no sign of Detective Peterson or the owners of the other two vehicles .

So they immediately radio for back up.

While they wait for reinforcements they call in the plates of the vehicles and learn that they belong to a Mrs Penelope Clutterbuck fron New York city and a Miss Abigail Bradstreet from Colorado the daughter of Victor Bradstreet the owner of the cabin.

Detectives Kelvin Godley and Lowell Creme race to the scene and are pleased to see that the first officers to arrive have sealed the scene.

They acknowledge the uniform cop guarding the front door and enter the cabin in the hope of finding some clue as to why Peterson and the owmers of the other vehicles have seemingly vanished into thin air.

The go from room to room with guns drawn and find nothing out of order and are surprised to see how clean the cabin is .

The kitchen looks brand new and so does the typewriter sitting on the kitchen table.

The olivetti’ instantly becomes alert when the two cops enter the kitchen .

The cabin has become way to busy so maybe it is time to move on?

After checking the back yard and surrounds and finding no trace of Mr Bradstreet or the other missing persons Detectives Godley and Creme return to their squad car and request a K 9 unit pronto.

And when it arrives an eager bloodhound named Monty runs around it’s owners feet desperate to earn a tasty treat.

Monty is a legend in Springwood an if given the chance would sniff out the whereabouts of Jimmy Hoffa and that kid on the milk carton.

Monty’s nose knows and if he can’t find Detective Peterson then there isn’t a bloodhound in the whole north west who could.

After a quick smell of the interior of Peterson’s squad car Monty runs around in circles before running directly to the front door and standing erect waiting for his master to arrive.

Godley and Creme can’t hide their disappointment.

The cabin only has five rooms and each have been searched thoroughly .

‘OK Troopre Ybanez ‘ Godley commands ‘You can take you dog away he has obviously picked up a false scent’

Monty’s master Trooper Clyde Ybanez knows that his dog is the best in the county ‘Detectives Monty has found your missing colleague , he is in the cabin somewhere and if you open the door he will lead us directly to him’

‘Go ahead Trooper but i think your dog has picked up the scent of a raccoon or a squirrel or maybe there is a dead mouse under the bed’

‘Trooper Ybanez looks at the detectives in annoyance then runs over to Monty ‘good boy now lets find what the detectives have missed’

Now it is Godley and Creme’s turn to look annoyed.

As soon as the front door is open Monty makes a beeline towards the kitchen ,he places his front paws on the kitchen table and stares an an old but somewhat shiny olivetti typewriter.

Monty wags his tail with happiness because he knows that he has done good and soon he will be playing with his favourite toy.

Trooper Ybanez is hot on Monty’s heels and he stops dead and his heart sinks when he Monty staring at a typewriter perched on the kitchen table.

Maybe Godley and Creme are right and Monty isn’t up to scratch but Ybanez knows that Monty is a champion dog so maybe there is a false wall behind the table or something.

Monty keeps on wagging his tail waiting for his master to tell him to stand down.

Godley and Creme enter the kitchen and laugh ‘Congratulations trooper your dog has managed to find a dead typewriter. What will he do now? Take it outside and give it a decent burial?

Trooper Ybanez gives the detectives the evil eye but keeps his mouth shut.

But Monty isn’t so forgiving and starts to bark in frustration.

The olivetti is well aware of the three humans and their noisy companion.

It is hungry again but doesn’t dare strike with so many people in the room so it just sits there acting all sweet and innocent hoping that the coast will clear giving it a chance to think up a survival plan.

The olivetti might be old but it isn’t stupid.

Then Monty the loyal bloodhound breaks the stalemate.

He doesn’t understand why his master hasn’t told him to stand down plus he really needs to go outside and water the plants.

So he jumps onto the kitchen table and places his snout onto the typewriter.

Maybe now his master will get the idea.

The olivetti’s juices begin to flow at the smell of fresh meat and even though it knows that it should resist the temptation to strike it can’t hold back and the ribbons of blood wrap around Monty’s muzzle and pull.

Monty whimpers in terror as his head is pulled into the machine.

All he can do is hope that his master can save him in time.

Godley and Crème can barely believe what they are witnessing but luckily their training kicks in and they empty their service revolvers into the hungry machine.

The olivetti is hit by over twenty bullets and is reduced to nothing more than a smouldering wreck.

But unfortunately Monty was also struck numerous times ‘No ‘ trooper Ybanez screams ‘What have you two motherfuckers done to my dog?’

‘Stand down Ybanez’ Godley snarls ‘I am sorry about your dog but we had to control the situation and let me give you a word of advice don’t you ever raise your voice to me again now get out of my sight’

Trooper Ybanez is seething but he storms out of the cabin without a word.

On the kitchen table the olivetti is already starting to repair the damage done by the high calibre bullets and after only thirty minutes later it’s keys start to type.

kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk

Out in their squad car calling for backup Godley and Crème are stunned by the sound of the Olivetti seemingly coming back from the dead.

They race into the kitchen with guns drawn but stop not wanting to get too close to the murderous typewriter.

They want to read what has been typed but they don’t dare to get any closer.

But their dilemma is solved when the olivetti spits out the sheet of paper.

Crème picks up the page and reads ‘Hello motherfuckers ,having a nice day? welcome to my world’

‘This is your first and final warning ,either leave now and go home to your families or stay and suffer the consequences’

Now what will it be boys?

Neither Godley or Crème reply they just back away never one taking their eyes from the maniac machine until they get outside locking thr front door behind them.

The SWAT team arrive ten minutes later and Crème gives them the run down’ Listen up guys and listen good because we have a very serious situation on our hands. I know what I am about to say might sound crazy but there is a dangerous typewriter inside who I believe is responsible for the murder of at least three people and perhaps many more’

‘So wear your full protective gear and be aware that this machine might look like your everyday typewriter but it has the ability to kill with its ink ribbons and along with my partner Detective Godley we have personally witnessed this machine kill and devour a K 9 unit dog’

The leader of the SWAT team knows that when dealing with a dangerous criminal there is only one course of action and that is to strike hard and quick.

Ten SWAT officers storm the cabin and before the olivetti can react it is chained to the kitchen table ready for transportation to a maximum security facility at Langley.

The olivetti is livid that it was captured so easily but it knows that it will live to fight another day.

On arriving at the jail the olivetti still chained is carried into a forty square foot cell.

Much like the one that housed Hannibal Lector in the movie ‘The Silence of the Lambs’

Warden Ted Kotzen doesn’t know how to process his new prisoner the paperwork is a complete fucking nightmare.

So he is relieved when two FBI agents arrive and take over the investigation and probable interrogation of Mr Olivetti.

First off they poke and probe the typewriter in the hope of finding human DNA so they have irrefutable evidence that this olivetti is a cold blooded killer.

The olivetti is in a rage, it feels dirty and degraded as it is put through a demeaning and outrageous internal examination.

But while it is chained and shackled there isn’t much it can do but wait.

Cause it knows that sooner or later it will be one on one with a stupid prison guard and then there will be hell to pay.

Three days later and the olivetti is slowly going insane, it has survived on dust motes cockroaches and the odd mouse that has crawled inside its mechanism.

But what it really needs is a blood meal so it can stay fit and healthy and not decay and rust into an obsolete machine ready for the scrap heap.

Prison guards Geoff Turnbull and Brian Mullhall are bored out of their minds.

The FBI asshole has finally gone home leaving them with strict instructions to never approach the typewriter and if the olivetti causes any trouble or creates a disturbance they are to call for backup immediately.

Two hours into their shift Mullhall starts groaning ‘Listen Geoff I really need to visit the bathroom, my wife made a curry last night and it is going through me faster than a Japanese bullet train’

And with that waddles off to the bathroom with his butt cheeks clenched tight.

Now an unsuspecting Turnbull is alone with a starving olivetti who is after a long overdue meal but also a way to breakout from his cell and return to a life of bloodshed and mayhem.

In the cell the olivetti start rocking back and forth threatening to break the chains holding it to the table.

Turnbull stares in amazement as the typewriter wobbles and bounces as it fights the restraints holding it down.

And with every movement the olivetti gets closer to the edge of the table almost to the point of no return.

Alarmed he jumps to his feet knowing that if the olivetti smashes onto the ground he could be charged with failure to take proper care of a prisoner so he does what he really shouldn’t do.

He opens the cell door and steps inside.

Geoff knows that he really should just turn around but the olivetti is damaging itself against the chains so he yanks on them for a few minutes until they fall to the ground

‘That’s better after all the typewriter can’t exactly run away’

kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk

Turnbull jump back in surprise at the sound but he leans in close to see what the machine has typed.

Maybe it is a confession and i can claim a reward he thinks to himself but i better be quick before that asshole Mullhall emerges from the shitter.

So he takes a deep breath and leans in even closer and reads ‘Hello Geoff pleased to meet you and thank you for ridding me from those annoying chains’

‘Come a little closer so we can talk in private and don’t worry i promise not to bite’

Geoff is as nervous as a shrimp that has wandered too close to a BBQ but he takes another step forward.

kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk

Good boy Geoff can you do me a huge favour? My C K and P keys are a little out of alignment can you just reach in and straighten them for me’

Geoff ‘s right arm reaches forward and he stops himself ‘What are you doing you fucking dick head? It is a trap so just turn around , lock the cell door and wait for Mullhall ‘

kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk

‘Please Geoff i am begging you, it will only take a second and we can have a nice chat until your friend comes back’

Turnbull is in two minds , he knows that he shouldn’t be talking to the creepy typewriter but he knows that the olivetti is getting completely dismantled tomorrow so he reaches his hand in ‘Geoff what in the fuck are you doing get away from that thing right this minute before you end up as 180 pounds of ground meat

Turns at the sound of Mullhall’s voice and tries to pull his hand away from the killer machine but he is way too slow.

The olivetti latches on and Turnbull is pulled into the machine like a lamb chop into a garbage disposal.

Mullhull pushes the emergency button then races to save his friend before he is devoured by the ravenous olivetti.

He wrapped his arms around Turnbulls waist and pulls with all his might and with a snap Geoff is separated from the machine minus an arm.

A tourniquet is applied now all Mullhall can do is pray that his friend and fellow officer survives the ordeal.

Warden Kotzen is livid with the FBI all they had to do was take the man eating olivetti out into the middle of nowhere and shoot the living shit out of machine so now one of his best officers is fighting for his life.

So fuck you Mr FBI Man if you can’t do your job i will have to do it for you.

So the Warden picks up the phone and after a few calls he has organised himself a firing squad.

And at 6 am the following morning the warden calls through the bars of the cell holding prisoner # 266277 ‘Any last words Mr Olivetti before you are executed by firing squad and sent to hell for eternity?

The typewriter doesn’t reply because it knows that nothing short of a nuclear explosion will deny it an existence.

So it sits straight and waits for impact.

Twelve rifles poke through the bars of the cell in readiness

Warden Kotzen builds the tension then screams FIRE and the olivetti is blown to smithereens.

Over one thousand pieces of twisted metal are collected and thrown into a cardboard box.

Warden Kotzen puts the box into the trunk of his car and drives to a steel mill on the edge of town.

He hands the box to an old school buddy who pours the pieces of metal into a huge ladle and soon they are melted down and turned into huge steel bars ready to be transformed into a thousand and one steel products.

A month later a steel Campbells soup can falls of a shelf in a supermarket in Grand Rapids Michigan and a tiny piece of metal breaks free and rolls out the front door.

The first piece of a shattered olivetti is on the warpath so please be careful out there.


Part Four is coming soon so keep out.

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