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‘Rooster Booster ( Part Two ).

13 Friday May 2022

Posted by stevenjohnno in Uncategorized

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blood, cockfights, leech, mobster, murder, rooster

In the first installment of this story in introduced you to the Humphrey family who own a large cattle ranch in Suffolk county Texas.

The father 39 year old Skeet works from sunup to late at night seven days a week and the proud fourth generation farmer wouldn’t have it any other way.

His wife Hattie also likes living off the land looking after her husband and their two kids eight year old Billy Bob and his sister Millie who just turned six.

The children like to play in the mud and round around with ranch with the family German Shepherd named Lonesome.

Hattie does most of the household chores plus she also tends two twenty chickens and a rooster called Peckerwood.

Recently Hattie secured a contract to supply a few business’s in town with fresh eggs and the takeout shop also want Hattie to supply them with chicken meat everyday so good old Peckerwood will need to get busy if she is to keep her clients happy.

COCK A DOODLE DOO COCK A DOODLE DOO

Every morning at the crack of dawn Peckerwood wakes up the family and while he waits to be fed the rooster struts around the yard like Mick Jagger in his heyday.

But looks can be deceiving because lately Peckerwood has been neglecting the chickens and if he doesn’t lift his game his days of being head rooster could be over.

After another long day Skeet enjoys spending quality time with his family then he retires to the den to go over the paper work to make sure the ranch is in the black and everything seems to be going as planned but to his dismay he notices not for the first time that the rate of new chicks being born is down again, this week alone it has fallen by 30%.

Enough is enough Peckerwood isn’t performing his duty as a virile rooster so he will need to be replaced by a younger rooster if the ranches profits are to keep going up and for Hattie to keep her contracts changes need to be made forthwith.

Hattie isn’t pleased when she is told that the rooster she has owned since he was born eight years ago is past his prime and will need to be replaced ‘Don’t fret Hattie we both knew that this day would come sooner or later so first thing tomorrow i will buy a new rooster from the Jackson’s next door and Hattie Peckerwood will need to put out of his misery’

‘When i get back i will take him around back to the chopping block because we can’t afford to keep an animal that isn’t pulling his weight but luckily for Hattie her two children save Peckerwoods neck in the nick of time and the old rooster knowing that his time is up seeks refuge beneath the barn.

COCK A DOODLE DOO COCK A DOODLE DOO

It is lunchtime and the new rooster named Sledgehammer is telling everyone within a five mile radius that he is the new king of the castle, then he visits the chicken for the second time that day fertilizes hundreds of eggs performing his duty and propping up the ranches profits.

Hattie hates seeing Peckerwood hiding from the new noisy upstart and she is determined to do something about it.

After delivering some eggs the despondent housewife goes into the drugstore and bulk vitamins, whey powder and a pack of viagra because Skeet has also been lacking in the lovemaking department of late.

Arriving home she made sure that Skeet wasn’t around then she crushed up a little blue pill along with the vitamins and powder and added the concoction to Peckerwoods water bowl.

While her rooster guzzled down the water Hattie ruffled his feathers’ Don’t worry Peckerwood soon you will back to your best running around like a youngster and giving the chickens some TLC’.

A few hours later Peckerwood emerges from his hidey hole full of vim and vigor a few pounds heavier sporting a rock hard member that points to the sky telling all of the hens that he is back in business.

After satisfying the chickens Peckerwood goes looking for Sledgehammer and soon finds his replacement scratching for grubs in the yard.

Sensing a huge presence behind him Sledgehammer spins around to see a somewhat familiar figure descending upon him ‘Is that you Peckerwood?’

The bulked up rooster doesn’t respond instead he attacks he plucks every single feather from the hapless victim then with one almighty kick he sends the loser tumbling over the boundary fence back to whence he came from.

Once again Peckerwood rules the roost.

PART TWO.

Skeet Humphrey and his wife Hattie were eating a quick lunch when they heard a commotion outside.

Rushing outside their jaws dropped open on seeing a skinny naked rooster spinning through the air like a football.

Equally astounding was the sight of a bulked up rooster parading around the yard like a victorious prize fighter.’

‘Holy fuck it looks like Peckerwood is swinging a baseball bat’ Skeet utters ‘And he must weigh 20 pounds or more.’

Hattie puts a hand over her mouth to hide a smile, she is proud with the way Peckerwood has responded to the supplements and viagra but maybe she should cut back any future doses.

Skeet and Hattie have been married for ten years come April and from day one they vowed never to keep a secret from one another.

Skeet is small and wiry covered in tattoos with a cigarette forever perched in the corner of his mouth while Hattie is tall, blonde and a bit of a health nut but the odd couple are deeply in love so Hattie decides to tell Skeet about all of the artificial boosters that she has been feeding Peckerwood ‘Ah Skeet honey i need to tell why Peckerwood why Peckerwood is so’ ‘Not now Hattie i need to get back to work but that rooster of yours needs a cold shower before he does some damage to the poor chickens.’

Jeremiah Jackson the Humphreys nearest neighbor who sold them Sledgehammer a while back is working on his pickup in the driveway when he looks up and notices a bloodied, featherless rooster hobbling up the drive towards him.

Jackson a 400 pound gulf war veteran who looks a lot like Hulk Hogan complete with the bandana and moustache can barely believe what he is seeing but he bends down and the frightened bird runs straight into his arms ‘Sledgehammer? What happened fella? You look like a bobcat has used you as a plaything.’

The plucked and fucked rooster looks back over his shoulder as he continues in tremble in shock, Jeremiah follows Sledgehammers gaze towards the Humphrey property ‘Surely my neighbors had nothing to do with what happened to Sledgehammer?’

To all outward appearances Jeremiah looks like your everyday southern rancher but looks can be deceiving because the battle hardened veteran when crossed can be one mean motherfucker so it is best to keep out of his way when the red mist descends.

He also dabbles in moonshine, produces meth in his barn and he is also a member of the local cockfighting ring.

With the kids at school, skeet out in a back field branding some cattle Hattie is all alone with her thoughts.

Sitting on the back step she watches Peckerwood claw and scratch in the dirt then with a single whistle the rooster runs to his owner and sidles up onto her lap’ Holy frigging shit Peckerwood you are getting heavy get down before you break my hip’.

The rooster jumps down and sits beside Hattie on the stoop ‘What am i to do Peckerwood? I like the new improved rooster that you have become and i know that i really shouldn’t give you any more treats but i couldn’t bear to see you return to your old self’ So everyday Hattie continues to feed her rooster the bulk powder and viagra to give Peckerwood the boost he needs.

Three nights after Sledgehammer returned Jeremiah drove his pickup the two miles to his neighbors place and parked near the front gate.

It is 1 am and he is confident that everyone in the homestead is asleep so he grabs a pair of night vision glasses and enters the Humphreys property.

Scanning the yard he finds nothing of interest but when he goes behind the house he notices a large chicken shed and standing guard outside is the biggest rooster that he has ever seen ‘Holy fucking shit on a shingle this must be the cunt that destroyed Sledgehammer.’ Okay you mother come to daddy’

Peckerwood looks at the intruder with disinterest because he knows that any second now Lonesome the family dog will come flying around the corner and rip the man a new one.

But Lonesome wont be coming to the rescue any time soon because he is currently asleep behind the barn dreaming about chasing rabbits and the fancy looking poodle with the pink bows he saw at the vet’s last week.

Jeremiah can’t believe his luck this monster rooster has the potential to earn him a small fortune but it is way too big to manhandle so very carefully he loads a blow dart gun with a tranquilizer and a few seconds later Peckerwood is snoring.

Throwing the huge bird over his shoulder Jeremiah hurries back towards his pickup truck to make his escape but Lonesome has woken from his slumber and makes a beeline for Jackson and bites down hard on the kidnappers left calf muscle.

Jackson screams in agony as the dog shakes his head vigorously threatened to tear his calf from his body but the soldier tells himself to remain calm, he removes a razor sharp bowie knife from a hip sheath and with a single slash he opens up the German Shepherd who with a whimper runs off to die.

Jackson gets a better grip on Peckerwood he runs to his truck and throws the rooster into a metal cage in the back and takes off like a bat out of hell.

At 7 am Hattie wakes and immediately she knows that something is wrong because the sun is streaming through the bedroom curtains.

Normally at 5 am sharp Peckerwood would crow welcoming the family to a brand new day but this morning a deathly silence fills the air. ‘Skeet wake up it is 7 o’clock, i will start breakfast can you go and see if something is wrong with Peckerwood because he didn’t wake us up as usual’

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes Skeet puts on a pair of sweatpants then wanders outside and he immediately notices a huge blood of blood in the middle of the yard then he sees two different trails of blood, one trail leads toward the front gate while the more substantial trail heads towards the back of the barn.

When he gets close to the barn he hears a few soft whimpers, hurrying his pace he stifles a cry when he sees Lonesome laying in a pool of blood.

Skeet kneels down next to Lonesome and puts a hand over the wound in staunch the blood flow but it quickly becomes obvious that he is losing the battle so he gently picks up the shepherd and carries him to his truck then after pushing a towel into the wound he high tails it to the vet’s five miles away.

On the way he puts his cell phone on speaker and calls home ‘Hattie i am taking Lonesome to the vet’s, he has been sliced open by a bear i think and is bleeding bad’

‘No i haven’t seen Peckerwood i was to busy dealing with Lonesome but i will look for him when i get home.’

‘Don’t cry babe Doctor Morrow will give Lonesome a few stitches and i am sure that he will be as good as knew just you you wait and see.’

‘Get the kids ready for school and i will see you in an hour or so, bye Hattie see you soon.’

Carrying Lonesome into the vet’s the receptionist tells Skeet to go straight into the surgery and after greeting Doctor Morrow that his dog has been attacked by a bear or possibly a mountain lion.

But after examining Lonesome the doctor knows immediately that this was no bear or mountain lion ‘Skeet no animal did this, the wound isn’t torn or ragged this is your typical knife wound but i don’t think that any vital organs are affected but Skeet your dog has lost a lot of blood and i will do anything i can to save him’

As he drives back home Skeet can’t get his head around why someone would enter his property and slice his dog with a knife then he remembers the trail of blood leading to the front gate and Hattie being worried about Peckerwood, maybe it is time to get the police involved especially now that he knows that some crazy entered his yard carrying a knife.

Arriving home he tells Hattie about what Doctor Morrow said ‘What? Who would harm Lonesome he is a quite gentle dog, the kids were upset when he didn’t come and say goodbye when they were ready for school and Peckerwood is nowhere to be found, i looked all over, do you think that whoever hurt Lonesome has taken Peckerwood?’

‘I don’t know Hattie but i think that we should call the state troopers and let them handle it’

Jeremiah Jackson is in a foul mood when he arrives back home, his calf is aching like a bitch but at least now he owns a rooster capable of earning him a shitload of money.

Knowing that he needs to hide his prize in case the Humphreys come nosing around Jackson reverses his truck into the barn and whilst the rooster is still unconscious he quickly sharpens the spur on each leg with a rasp.

There is a cockfight over at old man Johnson’s place tonight and Jeremiah aims to win the $10,000 first prize.

As soon as they pull into the Humphreys drive Troopers Crespo and Dufray notice the pool of blood in the yard and the trail leading back past their cruiser out to the gravel road.

They both know with the blood will likely lead them to but to cover their butts they walk around the Humphrey property pretending to do a through search for evidence.

The troopers have been on the take for years and have no intention of letting a dead dog and a missing rooster railroad their cash flow.

Skeet and Hattie have dealt with the two deadbeat troopers before and their hearts sink when they see the pair wandering around like lost puppies. ‘God doesn’t the county have have any better cops than Cheech and Chong’ Hattie gripes ‘Look at them Skeet the chances of them finding the perpetrator who entered our yard and almost killed Lonesome and took Peckerwood is next to zero’

‘If those two were proctologists they would struggle to find their own asshole’

When the troopers finally talk to the Humphreys they assure the couple that they will move heaven and earth to find the culprit who trespassed on their property and caused you so much heartache.

‘We are Suffolk County’s finest ‘ Dufray proudly announces as he struggles to hitch up his pants to hide his protruding stomach.’Justice will be served.’

‘God help us all’ Skeet whispers to his annoyed wife who can’t manage to keep quiet’ Next time you pass by can you drop off a dozen donuts because i know that you two spend a lot of the tax payers time and money filling your stomach’s with krispy creme’s and do very little actual police work’

Crespo and Dufray don’t respond but they both give Hattie an icy stare before returning to their cruiser and driving away.

Hattie just made herself two enemies, lets hope that she lives to fight another day.

The sun has just set and Jeremiah is getting ready to leave for the cockfight when he hears a car wheels on his gravel drive and before he can react in time two troopers barge into his barn ‘Jesus H Christ Jackson you are one dumb motherfucker’ Crespo screams’ We just left your neighbors place and the blood evidence led us straight here, you might as well of painted a sign with an arrow pointed to your front door.’

‘And why in the hell would you think that it would be a good idea to go next door and stab a dog and steal a rooster?’

‘Look fellas i didn’t go there to cause any harm but something attacked Sledgehammer four or five days ago so i went to the Humphreys place to see if i could find anything useful and man did i ever.

‘Come let me show you Suffolk County’s next best prize fighter’

The troopers follow Jackson around to the back of his pickup’ Holy fuck’ Dufray shouts ‘ Is that one of those Tasmanian emu’s ?’

‘No it isn’t a Tasmanian emu you dumb fuck it is the biggest rooster this side of the state line and he will be making me a richer man tonight.’

The noise is deafening inside a huge marquee when the first cockfight for the evening gets underway.

Old man Johnson always puts on a good spread and tonight is no different, jars of moonshine are passed from one punter to another and there is enough marching powder on hand to keep the one thousand gamblers happy.

As always Troopers Crespo and Dufray stand out front taking their take of the action and also ensuring that the cockfight can continue without fear of being stormed by any honest law abiding troopers.

The punters are crammed in tight around around a 10 square yard pit in the middle of the marquee and after the first three fights they are well lubricated and barely notice the the blood covered straw and the carcasses of the defeated piled up in the corner.

The air tingles in excitement as word gets around that a new contender is in town ready to take on Gutshredder the winner of the last two title fights.

Ten minutes before the bout is to begin old man Johnson grabs Jeremiah by the arm’ You need to give me a name so i can introduce your rooster to the crowd.’

Jackson hasn’t given the matter any thought but he knows that he needs to come up with a good name’ Ah what about Skullcrusher? That’s it Skullcrusher the Texan Terror’

‘Why don’t we go just go with Skullcrusher? suggests Johnson ‘The fight will begin at 8 o’clock and may the best rooster win.’

‘Ladies and gentlemen the final fight of the evening is between the unbeaten titleholder Gutshredder and the new unknown challenger named Skullcrusher who is owned by Jeremiah Jackson and Jeremiah as we all know has produced a number of champions over the years.’

‘So without any further ado lets all welcome the fighters to the ring.’

Making sure to stay well behind the troopers car Skeet follows them all the way to the Johnson farm.

Skeet pulls to the edge of the road 100 yards past the front gate he grabs his trusty Nikon 3600c and after zooming in he begins taking photos of hundreds of photos of hundreds of people entering a huge marquee.

Especially interesting is the sight of Crespo and Dufray clearly on the take as they stand guard outside the tent accepting money from the throng.

Gutshredder is the first rooster to enter the ring, he is small of the weight division covered in scars from his past bouts.

He might be battle scarred but Gutshredder has never ever taken a backward step.

When Peckerwood aka Skullcrusher enters a collection of gasps are heard from the punters who have put their money on the Gutshredder but now as they can see how big the challenger is some of them know that they should have hedged their bets.

Peckerwood was still a little dazed from his ordeal but when the stranger who kidnapped him leant down and gave gave him a hit of smelling salts he instantly became aware oh his surroundings and now he is primed to survive in this dog eat dog world.

Gutshredder is also a little put off by the size of his opponent but he immediately goes on the attack with both spurs raised.

Peckerwood normally a shy reserved bird who has never had a fight in his life but he instinctively feints to the left dodging the attack and goes on the offensive, striking with his beak Peckerwood destroyed an eyeball blinding the champion in that eye.

Gutshredder totally disoriented and in extreme pain lays on the ground covering his head with his clipped wings in total surrender.

At the sight of the blood soaking into the straw the crowd is ripped into a frenzy.

KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL KILL.

With one more strike Peckerwood opens up the hapless rooster spilling his entrails onto the bloodstained floor.

‘Holy fucking shit’ one punter screams out ‘Gutshredder just got a taste of his own medicine.’

Most of the punters walk out with empty pockets except for Jeremiah Jackson who’s wallet is now bursting with greenbacks.

But another person sitting at the back has also been watching proceedings with interest, Antonio Gredopolous or ‘Mister Greed’ as he is called behind his back is the official mayor of Suffolk County.

The ugly bald stand over merchant who is rumored to have murdered ten of his enemies has his fingers stuck in every pie in town and tonight he has also made a killing.

Old man Johnson locates the mobster in his usual seat flanked by his two bodyguards Tweedledee and Tweedledum, handing over a briefcase containing $40,000 the elderly farmer backs away ‘Just remember old man that if you ever try to double cross me i will feed you wife and children to my dogs while you watch.’

‘This is my town now get out of my sight’

As he watches the fat asshole climb into the back of his limo Johnson snarls ‘One day Mister Greed one day’

One week later the Humphrey family finally receive some good news, Lonesome is on the mend so they all dive into Skeets pride and joy a fully restored 56′ chevy and drive into town.

Doctor Morrow the miracle working vet warns the family the Lonesome ‘Is still sore and sorry, the wound to his neck has healed nicely but take it easy on him for a few weeks so no rough stuff okay Billy Bob.’

Eight year old Billy Bob nods his head but soon he is crying tears of joy when Lonesome is led into the room wagging his tail in happiness eager to rejoin his family.

Millie the baby of the group gently hugs the German Shepherd’ Be careful honey’ Hattie chides her daughter. ‘Now lets go home and enjoy the rest of the weekend hopefully free of drama.’

Outside skeet notices Crespo and Dufray emerging from the donut shop across the street carrying a large box of tasty treats.

Hattie finally sees the two troopers and locks eyes with Dufray and if looks could kill the walking talking ball of gluten would have exploded by now.

The cop unfazed by the death stare wanders across the road and goes to hand the box of donuts to Hattie ‘Please take my offering Mrs Humphrey, your children surely deserve a bit of happiness in their lives instead of all the misery that they must endure having a mother like you.’

Skeet is steaming and takes a step forward’ It is okay Skeet i can deal with Dufray.’

‘Thanks for your parental advice Trooper Lard Ass but my children eat wholesome food not unhealthy hand outs from the likes of you, now go away and stuff your face then maybe go and perform your duty as an officer of law like us tax payers pay you to do.’

Before the befuddled cop can respond Skeet drags his wife away’ Come on Hattie lets go before Trooper Double Glazed pops an artery.’

Come on Skullcrusher eat your corn and wheat, if you finish the lot i will give you first bibs with the chickens.

Jeremiah Jackson is a worried man, his prize rooster has gone off his food and has lost a lot of weight in the three days since his first fight.

The next cockfight is in seven days and there is no way in hell his rooster will be ready to defend his crown unless he bulks up real quick.

Peckerwood is tempted to give the chickens some loving but he hasn’t really got the strength.

Still confined to his cage the home sick rooster has begun a hunger strike and will not end until he is returned home.

Listening to his stomach grumble Peckerwood fondly remembers the the taste and magical qualities of the bulk building powder and the power shakes that gave him something to crow about every morning.

Plus let’s not forget the little blue pills that gave him a stiffy in a jiffy enabling him to satisfy the chickens like a lovesick teenager.

Two days before the fight Jackson knows that his rooster is a no go, so he phones old man Johnson and tells him that his champion bird is a late scratching.’ Sorry but Skullcrusher has pulled an abdominal muscle and will be unable to defend his title.’

‘Are you pulling my leg Jeremiah? Because every man and his dog has put a months wages on Skullcrusher and if he doesn’t turn up i will have a riot on my hands.’

‘Plus don’t forget that jabba the hut Mister Greed holds huge stakes on the cockfights and if your rooster is a no show the Italian Malfunction will not be happy.’

‘I understand Johnson but what am i supposed to do? Skullcrusher can barely stand let alone fight can’t you postpone for a week or two?’

‘No way Jose, if your rooster is scratched you might as well put a bullet in your own head because if don’t Mister Greed do the deed and bury you next to Jimmy Hoffa.’

In a panic Jackson carries the cage holding the ever shrinking rooster outside in the hope that a dose of vitamin D might give the bird a boost.

While he says a prayer to ward off his demise a huge black limo rolls up his driveway.

The two towers of granite Tweedledee and Tweedledum emerge quickly followed by their boss Mister Greed who walks towards Jackson with a mean look on his pudgy face and Jackson’s testicles roll around in his scrotum seeking an escape route but he still manages to smile at Greed despite his discomfort’ Good morning Sir what can i do for you on this fine day?’

‘Cut the bullshit Jackson, you know very well why i am here.’

‘Now listen carefully, i stand to lose a huge amount of money if your champion rooster doesn’t turn up to defend his crown, do i make myself clear Jackson?’

‘Jackson’s balls have now entered his throat so he struggles to speak, instead he simply points over to the cage sitting in the middle of his yard.

The obese mobster waddles over and takes a look inside the cage ‘Surely Jackson this isn’t the same bird that completely demolished Gutshredder last week.

‘It is indeed and as you can see Skullcrusher would struggle to beat a sparrow in a fight let alone another rooster.’

‘I hear what you are saying and i can see with my own eyes that your rooster is very sick so i grant you one weeks grace.’

‘But let me warn you if i lose one dime on a no show you might as well dig your own grave and jump in because i will come back and turn you into human fertilizer but look on the bright side at least your crops will produce a bumper season.’

When Mister Greed and his henchmen leave his property Jackson goes inside leaving Peckerwood outside soaking up the sun.

Once the coast is clear Pecker sticks a foot through the wire and begins scratching a message in the dirt but he struggles with the spelling so he instead scratches one word in uppercase HELP.

In an attempt to calm his nerves Jackson pours himself a huge glass of bourbon and over the course of the day he finishes the whole bottle no closer to figuring out an answer to his deadly problem.

Just before sunset he goes out and carries Peckerwood’s cage back into the barn not noticing the cry for help scratched in the dirt.

The Humphrey family are also settling in for the night and despite having just eaten a huge portion of meatloaf six year old sobs in distress ‘Mommy when is Peckerwood coming home? Hopefully the kidnappers will ask for a ransom and when they do mommy please pay $1 million and Pecker can come back and play with Billy Bob and me.’

Hattie wipes her eyes and smiles at her daughter trying to cheer her up ‘I miss Peckerwood to honey now go watch Dora the Explorer and once i have cleaned up a bit i will bring you and Billie Bob a bowl of ice cream.’

Skeet doesn’t like to see his children unhappy then as he looks over at Lonesome snoozing on his bed on the kitchen floor an idea pops into his head ‘Maybe just Maybe.’

But knowing that he wont achieve much in the dark Skeet helps his wife with the dishes and then the family eat ice cream while watching cartoons.

First thing in the morning after breakfast Skeet is eager to dee if his plan will work so he called out to Hattie ‘Babe i am going to take Lonesome for a walk, i need to stretch my legs and he needs the exercise.’

OK but don’t over do it because Lonesome has been through a lot lately.’

Placing a lead on his German Shepherd’s collar Skeet goes out front and immediately the pooch locks onto a few dry spots of blood on the gravel drive.

Lonesome wags his tail vigorously and barks happily knowing that he has done good. ‘Well done fella now lets see where the blood leads us to.’

Lonesome nose to the ground turns right at the front gate and 20 minutes later the pair of sleuths arrive at the Jackson homestead the very place where Skeet bought Sledgehammer Peckerwoods nemesis and mortal enemy a few weeks back.

Lonesome almost pulls Skeet off his feet when his nose picks up a different scent, as he sniffs the ground the dog leads his master to a scratching.

Skeet leans down and makes out the word HELP and nearby lay what looks like a few rooster feathers.

‘Good boy now lets go find Peckerwood and get the fuck out of here.’

‘Hold it right there mister, what are you doing on my property?’

‘Surely you recognize me Jackson?, i am your neighbor Skeet Humphrey now hand over the rooster that you stole and i will be on my way.’

‘I don’t know what you are talking about now take your mongrel and leave before i call the police.’

Lonesome growls menacingly at the sound of the man’s voice and he knows instantly that this is the person responsible for his injuries.

Springing forward the angry dog bites down hard between the mans legs his teeth clamping onto the ever shrinking block and tackle.

Screaming in terror Jackson notices the dogs shaved shaved neck and stitches and he knows that he is in deep shit.

Lonesome shakes his head vigorously determined to inflict as much pain as he can ‘If i were you neighbor i would start talking because my dog really gets serious.’

Jackson starts babbling ‘Look man i didn’t mean any harm but when Sledgehammer came back all bloodied and hurt i had to do something and when i saw the huge rooster at your place i knew who was responsible but then your dog tried to stop me getting away and i am sorry that i had to use my knife.’

‘Plus i don’t know if you are aware or not but cockfights are held out at old man Johnson’s place so that is why i poached your rooster and by the way the won first fight last week.’

‘Most of the troopers are on the take and usually turn a blind eye on all the illegal activity in the county.’

‘Thanks for confirming my suspicions Jackson you low life son of a bitch but where does Antonio Gredopolous figure in all of this.’?

‘Mister Greed as he is called controls the whole county virtually, he stands over all the businesses in town, everybody is afraid of him and i don’t know if this is true or not but it is rumored that he has murdered a number of people over the years so if i were you i would take your rooster and mangy mutt home and keep my mouth shut.’

At home Skeet is welcomed home by his very excited and happy family and while the kids play with Peckerwood and Lonesome Skeets tells Hattie what went down at the Jackson’s.

‘I knew Crespo and Dufray were rotten Skeet but i didn’t realize the whole force was involved, we need to bring them down and the county will pay for all the pain and suffering that they have put us through.’

‘I don’t think that all of the cops in the county are on the take Hattie but there needs to be an investigation to weed all bad ones out and send them packing.

Jackson knowing that he needs to get away before Mister Greed puts a bullet in his head hitches a trailer to his truck and after driving into town to instruct his lawyer to sell his ranch pronto the shit scared rancher high tails it to parts unknown.

Hattie walks into the mayors office determined to restore law and order to the county.

The mayor Dennis Childers a 46 year old born and bred local has been a leading figure in the county for many years and he is known as a good family man, honest and beyond reproach.

After listening to all that Hattie has to say and seeing the damning evidence on Skeets phone Childers promises her that he will lead a full investigation into the matter’ I will leave no stone unturned Mrs Humphreys, all guilty parties will be terminated from the department and Gredopolous will be brought before a court to face justice.’

Crespo and Dufray are stood down immediately, their first course of action is to inform Mister Greed about the upcoming investigation.

The mobster thanks them for the call he decides that now might be a good time to visit Vegas and lay low for a while so along with his two bodyguards he leaves the county never to return.

Of the 300 troopers employed by the county a total of 56 were found guilty by an independent commission against corruption of accepting brides and were forced to retire from the police force.

The rest of the troopers and their superiors were all put on notice and they all vowed to work with the people and rid the county of corruption.

Six months later.

Jeremiah Jackson has grown a beard and wears a baseball cap which he constantly pulls down to cover his face.

He spends his weekends fishing the Mississippi with a few friends drinking beer, smoking a some pot but most of all Jeremiah tries to keep a low profile.

He now has a pretty girlfriend named Jennifer and the couple live in a trailer on the banks of the river.

Life is good for Jackson he lives on the straight and narrow and his past life is light years behind but even now he still can’t shake the feeling the past will catch up with him day.

On the following Wednesday morning he walks about 500 yards downstream to his favorite fishing spot.

It is 6 am the sun is barely above the horizon and Jackson has the river to himself, after casting a line he settles into a camping chair and lights a cigarette waiting for the first bite of the day.

‘Hello Jackson fancy seeing you here, don’t you know that smoking will kill you one day but lucky for i am here to help you die a lot earlier’.

Jackson’s skin crawls at the sound of the voice behind him and he sighs in defeat, spinning his chair Jeremiah stares down his killer ‘What are you doing down these ways Antonio? I can see that your Jenny Craig diet isn’t really working, what do you weigh now 500 600 pounds, it is a wonder that you are still breathing with all that blubber surrounding your heart.’

‘Oh by the way where are your butt buddies Tweedledee and Tweedledum?”

Standing ten yards away the mobster smiles ‘Jackson your words don’t affect me, did you really think that you could run and that i wouldn’t hunt you down one day.’

‘I must admit that it took longer than i thought it would but here we are.’

Jackson looks around desperately hoping that someone will come to his rescue but at this time of the morning even the birds are still waking up.’

Pulling a pistol from his waistband Mister Greed attaches a silencer and points the gun in Jackson’s general ‘Any last words Jackson?’

‘

‘Just tell Jennifer that i love her and i hope that one day i will see you in hell.’

‘Okay see you then, bye now.

PIFF PIFF PIFF

All three bullets hit Jackson in the chest and he stumbles back and falls into the water.

Mister Greed walks to the bank and watches the body drift with the current before disappearing from view.

When he turns to walk away the mobster’s left foot comes into contact with a razor sharp fishing knife that was on the ground near Jackson’s fishing box.

The knife sliced through the leather loafer and cuts deep into the big toe drawing blood.

Mister Greed howled in agony and he instinctively dipped his foot into the river to ease the pain.

The blood from the cut attracted a dozen or so tiny leeches who latched on and quickly began to suck the blood.

Antonio sat down on the chair and took off the damaged shoe to inspect the wound, satisfied that the cut isn’t as bad as it could have been Mister Greed smiles as he takes another look to see that Jacksons body hasn’t reappeared.

Sitting behind the wheel of the limo Antonio listens to his favorite Celine Dion album on car play.

As he sings along the mobster feels something crawling up his huge stomach under his shirt, he screams in terror thinking that a tarantula is about to bite him but what emerges is just a little leech.

Sighing in relief Mister Greed squeezes the bloated animal between his fingers and throws it out of the window but the leech had friends and they all emerge from beneath his shirt and soon his face is covered in the tiny creatures who enter his mouth and nostrils seeking another blood meal.

Screeching in horror the mobster loses control of the limo, the car crashes through a safety barrier at full speed and flies through the air before landing in the Mississippi.

As his limo sinks Mister Greed tries to smash a window to escape but he quickly loses strength and sobs knowing that his time is up.

The last thing he sees before his car descends into the water is a bullet riddled body floating by.

THE END.

‘Mister Big Cheese’ Part Two.

22 Saturday Jan 2022

Posted by stevenjohnno in Uncategorized

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Tags

america, blood, brett price, cat, clyde dylan ybanez, death, disease, exterinate, horror, new york, president of the united states, rat, revenge, war

Part One.

In the first installment of this story i introduced you to Mister Big Cheese a huge rat who ruled the sewers beneath the streets of Manhattan.

He is currently having trouble with the human population of the borough who are laying traps and poisons in an attempt to rid New York City of its rodent problem.

So the head rat called a summit meeting with the other leaders of the other boroughs to warn them of the human intervention plus he has ambitions to be the number one rat of the whole city not just Manhattan so the meeting will give him a chance to size up his opponents.

Three days later the rats met beneath a park bench in central park on the stroke of midnight and first up to greet Mister Big was the leader of the rats over in Staten Island Mister Feta and just like his name suggests he was fragile and tended to crumble easily under pressure and was certainly no threat but The Cheese immediately to a liking to the friendly rat.

Next were the leaders from The Bronx and Brooklyn Mister Brie and Camembert and even though they both put on a tough exterior they couldn’t hide the fact that they were soft and gooey on the inside but Mister Big Cheese knew that they would follow his instructions and be important allies.

Finally the head rat from Queens, Mister Parmigiano arrives, he is known to be strong and sharp and he doesn’t suffer fools and he is also highly ambitious and Mister Big Cheese knows that that Parmigiano will need watching of that he is positive.

After talking for over an hour about the trapping and poisons that have killed thousands of their kind and suggesting that they all go back to their boroughs and tell their rodent friends to be vigilant he is rudely interrupted by the sour and smelly Parmigiano ‘Who put you in charge? How dare you stand up on your soapbox telling us what we should be doing about the slaughter of our population by the humans.’

You might rule teeny weeny Manhattan but that doesn’t give you the right to dictate to us, shut the fuck up and listen for a change, we need to attack the people who are killing us and not scurry away with our tails between out legs.’

‘The people on the streets need to be taught a lesson and that is, if you try to destroy the rat we will strike with a vengeance and eradicate the human population from this city, now i am going back to Queens to draw up an action plan so who is with me?’

Mister Big Cheese cant quite believe what he is hearing, he called this meeting to strengthen his position and now this upstart from Queens is attempting to steal his thunder, the asshole even has the nerve to call a vote for his diabolical scheme.

Fifteen minutes later victory is secured by Parmigiano and he raises a claw to celebrate the win.

Mister Big Cheese hangs his head in defeat and without another word he slinks away into the darkness.

The other leaders know that attacking the people in revenge will only make the matters worse but Mister Parmigiano is tough and built like a brick outhouse so they had chose but to side with him so they to head back to their boroughs to await orders from the new leader of the rat.

Perched on a toilet seat at an old abandoned underground station Mister Big Cheese is still seething feeling down in the dumps but suddenly his whiskers twitch in glee when he remembers an incident a few years back.

It was a chilly afternoon and he was minding his own business chewing on an discarded apple when a street wise cat appeared out of nowhere swinging a paw that almost took off his head but then a rat came up behind the feline biting it on the ass.

The rat in question was called Mister Stillson because he was as hard as nails with a smell about him that was somewhat pleasant but at the same time nasty very nasty indeed.

As he ponders his future Mister Big Cheese wonders where Mister Stillson is now because he knows that if he is to save New York City he is going to need some help and the rat from God knows where could be his savior.

Part Two.

After being humiliating defeat Mister Big Cheese was forced to flee to Chicago leaving his loyal sidekick Mister Cheddar in charge while he cools his heels in exile but he knows that sooner or later he will have to return to New York City before Parmigiano reduces the metropolis to a ruin of disease and destruction.

The coward is currently holed up near Canadian border where he fled when the human authorities to kill his loyal rat followers with chemical baits and flamethrowers.

Mister Big Cheese knows that the turncoat will scurry back to his Queens headquarters when the coast is clear and when he does The Cheese will take him down once and for all.

Hopefully Mister Stilton will be by his side and together they will hopefully bring stability back to his home city.

In an old abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of Bangor Maine a smelly old rat is is snuggled safe and sound in his nest behind a rusty washing machine.

Mister Stilton has always had over active scent glands and when you you are a contract killer for hire having a nasty tang makes it hard to sneak up on your prey.

As he licks the offending gland he is startled by a loud knocking on the side of the machine.

Tucking the gland out of sight he is intrigued to find out who is seeking him out but before he can take a peek a note is pushed into his hidey hole followed by the sound of retreating footsteps.

Opening the note he begins to read’ Hello old friend i hope you are well? I trust that you have heard about the mayhem happening right now in New York? The instigator is an young upstart rat from Queens named Mister Parmigiano’

‘He has become a huge problem and needs to be put to rest permanently before the calamity in our city gets completely out of control’

‘I will be on the corner of Third and Maple every night from Wednesday the 3rd, please Mister Stilton i beg your presence post haste.

Yours Sincerely

Mister Big Cheese.

After a quick dip in the toilet bowl and a liberal application of heavy duty deodorant Stilton packs a knapsack full personal hygiene products, he then hurries thorough a cornfield to the local train station where he jumps on a freight train heading to New York City.

Two days later he arrives in the big apple and quickly finds his way to the rendezvous point.

He is a little early so he hides behind a trashcan and waits for his friend to arrive and an hour later the leader of the Manhattan rat cartel scurries into view and immediately races behind the bin ‘Jesus Stilton i could smell your odor from three blocks away, haven’t you heard of having a shower every now and then?

‘ Nice to see you too Mister Big Cheese, you know that i have a gland problem that becomes inflamed when i am anxious and a little nervous but enough about me lets get down to business’

Moving down wind from Stilton The Cheese begins’ First off thanks for coming because i have a huge problem on my hands and only you can give me a permanent solution’

‘Mister Parmigiano the self appointed leader of the rat population in Queens has started a war with the humans, there is fighting all over the city but thankfully Manhattan is still under my control but soon Parmigiano will want a complete stranglehold on the whole city’

‘I have put some feelers out and have found out that he is holed up in a little town called Mississauga up on the border’

‘Locate the fucker and neutralize him before the humans completely annihilate the rat from the city’

‘Bring me his head and in return i will provide you with an endless supply of your favorite food but please Stilton control your glands before they get you killed’

Stilton nods his head and gives the offending gland a little rub before racing off to complete his mission.

‘In the sewer beneath an ice cream factory in Mississauga Mister Parmigiano is living the life of a king surrounded by a thousand of his most loyal followers who attend to his every need.

It has been eight days since he ordered war against the human aggressors and so far the battalions of rats around the boroughs have achieved great success.

Most rats are infested with fleas and carry the rabies virus so a single bite from 100 million rodents will quickly infect the humans killing millions of the annoying creatures.

Parmigiano hopes that by 2023 New York City will be his for the taking and he the honorable Mister Parmigiano will become the first rodent mayor of the big apple and now with the help from Covid his mission to bring the human being down will be so much easier.

Tomorrow he will return to Queens and step up operations but first he will travel to Manhattan and put the so called Mister Big Cheese out of his misery.

Stilton sneaks into Mississauga and immediately hones in on the ice cream factory and his whiskers twitch in excitement.

Parmigiano might think that he is king shit but his hideout was remarkably easy to locate but unknowingly he has walked into a trap.

He is quickly surrounded by a dozen or rats who with four bites sever his achilles tendons so for Mister Stilton there will be no escape.

He is dragged beneath the factory and left at Parmigiano’s feet ‘Well well if it isn’t the smelly assassin himself Mister Stilton’

‘Let me tell you that your stench precedes you, it is amazing how you have been a successful killer for so many years when you smell like a colony of lepers left out to rot in the sun’

‘After i kill you i will leave your carcass outside for the buzzards to feast on but i think that even the flesh eating birds will disregard your bones.’

Stilton wants to tell the fucker that he has a gland problem but he knows that he would be wasting his breath so he stays silent staring back at his killer in defiance.

Parmigiano knows that Mister Big Cheese is behind the attempt to take him down and his beady black eyes narrow in hatred ‘Hold him still’

Snarling with perverse pleasure Parmigiano waits until his would be assassin is held secure then he dives in and rips Stilton apart.

Thankfully Stilton dies moments after his internal organs are devoured by Parmigiano who tweaks his whiskers as he swallows the final morsel of liver ‘The meat is all your boys but leave the head untouched because i am sending it to my friend in Manhattan as a reminder of what will happen to him if he continues to stand in my way’

Early the next morning Mister Big Cheese wakes in his nest of newspaper in a happy mood, he is confident that Stilton will have rid the earth from the tyranny of Parmigiano and hopefully avoid all out war between man and rat.

When he finishes his breakfast and takes a dump behind a bucket he races upstairs to begin a brand new day but almost stumbles over a blood soaked package sitting in the middle of his doorstep.

Deep down he knows what the contents of the package will contain but with dread he gingerly eats through the string binding the parcel and after a quick peak to confirm his suspicions Mister Big Cheese violently regurgitates his breakfast on the floor, hanging his head in sorrow The Cheese knows that he and he alone is responsible for the death of his friend ‘I vow to you Stilton that the rat who killed you will be brought to justice and sentenced to a slow demise at the hands of your truly’

Through misty eyes he notices a piece of paper sticking out from beneath the severed head. picking it up he reads ‘I trust that you are enjoying the company the company of Stilton even though he mightn’t have much to say? but enough small talk Mister Big Wheeze this is your first and final warning, get out of town while you still can or you will have the same fate as Mr Smelly’

‘If you are still in Manhattan tomorrow evening i will personally visit you in the shithole you live in and happily send you on a one way trip to hell’

‘Get out of my city before i crawl up your asshole and eat you from the inside out’

Your Sincerely

Mister Parmigiano

Mister Big Cheese crumples the note and throws it to the ground in anger, if that turd with a tail thinks that i will runaway and leave my city for him to destroy he has got another thing coming.

Stepping out into the sunshine he knows that time is of the essence so he hurries away without looking back, it saddens him to leave his home but he has little choose in the matter because if he is to out smart Parmigiano he will have to find a safe place to stay in the city away from his clutches.

Thousands of his followers run behind him but Mister Big Cheese that having them around will only attract attention so he stops in his tracks holding up a claw ‘As you all know Parmigiano is after my blood so for safety as well as my own i ask you to go home to your burrows and bunker down until i send word’

Manhattans finest scurries down a storm water drain on his way to God knows where but if New York City is to survive he will have to come up with a plan to stop Parmigiano otherwise the big apple will be turn rotten all the way to its core.

Parmigiano for the moment puts all thoughts of how he will end Mister Big Cheese’s dominance because he has a war to run after all.

Sitting at his feet in his headquarters in Queens are the three timid head rats from Staten Island, The Bronx and Brooklyn, the trio are shaking so much their tremors would most likely register around 7.2 on the Richter scale.

Parmigiano looks at with distain ‘Listen up and listen good’ pointing a gnarly claw at Mister Camembert he snarls’ Go back to Brooklyn and order your troops to engage in all out war, they are to chew through wires and cables to sever communications with the outside world’

‘Secondly foul the drinking water and contaminate all food sources but then you are to maim and kill as many people as you can and soon the city will be mine’

‘Once New York is controlled by the rat the rodent populations all over the nation will rise up and join us in the fight and i guarantee to you that by the end of the year the human nemesis will surrender and this country will therefore become known as the United Rats Of America, now lets bow heads and pray’

When Parmigiano closes his eyes the three frightened rats join claws in prayer but they aren’t praying for Parmigiano’s success instead all they want is a return to the status quo where the rat and the human being can live together like they have done for thousands of years.

After his absolutions are complete Parmigiano stares down the three amigo’s ‘Alright you three hurry back to your boroughs and begin your mission and remember if you fail to carry out my orders i will not only kill you but all of your relatives will be burnt alive on the stake’

Mister Big Cheese runs for miles along the sewers under the bustling city not really knowing where he is going but when he sticks his head out of a grate he looks skyward all the way to the top of the empire state building.

His nose twitches as it tastes the air for any signs of aggression or tension but when he is satisfied that all is well the Big Block Of Cheese smiles to himself.

The Empire State Building what an ideal place to make his final stand now all he has to do is lure his enemy within reach and then bring the motherfucker down.

The president of the United States the honorable Collard Chump is in the bathroom at the white house taking care of business when a loud single knock on the door tells him that it is time to attend to more important business.

With one last admiring glance in the the bathroom mirror the leader of the free world hitches up his trousers ready to take on whatever crisis is happening on this fine morning.

‘Sorry to bother you Mister President’ Secretary of State Wilson Petrie says not looking all that bothered at all ‘There is activity up in New York City that i think that you should be made aware of, apparently there has been dozens of deaths attributed to the rat population over there’

‘From all reports the rats are deliberately attacking people killing them in their beds while they sleep plus all communication with the city ceased three hours ago and it is suspected that the rats have severed the lines so now we are somewhat in the dark but satellite vortex will be directly above New York City in four hours Mister President so then we will have a clearer picture of what is happening’

‘There has been no contact with Mayor Guillo?’ President Chump asks his senior advisor’ No Mister President his office is apparently surrounded by the rodent vermin and we have been unable to contact him’

‘Why don’t we send in the national guard and wipe out the rats, what are the local police doing to ease the situation surely they could organize sort sort of poisoning program to rid the city of this scourge?

‘With respect Mister President New York and all cities across this great nation have been trying to exterminate the rat since Columbus landed here’

‘The problem is that there are billions of rats in every town and city from coast to coast and they are small in size so they are hard to locate because they can scurry away and hide at any sign of trouble so sending in the guard would be next to useless and also Sir the current generation of rat has built up a resistance to the poisons and they are smart and have learnt to avoid traps and evade capture’

‘But Mister President there might be a solution close at hand but at this stage it is still in the experimental stage and bear with me Sir this might sound crazy but the scientists at the Center For Disease Control have been working on the rodent problem for a decade or more and before communications were cut i had been speaking with the Director at the Center and he and his colleagues have developed a feline that is capable of following all rodents into every nook and cranny these rats care to hide in, these felines capture and neuter the male of the species breaking the breeding cycle which will drastically reduce the rat population to more manageable numbers’

‘What do you mean Mister Secretary? A mutant pussy cat?’

‘Yes Mister President these cats aren’t your ordinary house cat these felines are robotic made from some sort of liquid metallic substance that enables them to get right up close to the enemy and when they do these robot cats release a hormone that sterilizes the male rats so it is a win win situation, we exterminate the rat without using deadly harsh chemicals and you would surely win the next election in a landslide Mister President’

President Chump runs his hands through the ginger mop adorning his head and smiles a smile that would make the Mona Lisa blush.

‘Make it happen Mister Secretary make it happen’

Situated behind an old oil heater on the ground floor of the empire state building Mister Big Cheese has no idea that his life is about to be snuffed out.

Just twenty feet away Parmigiano watches his nemesis closely just waiting for the right moment and when the Cheese turns away for a second he pounces with deadly force.

Mister Big Cheese is dozing thinking about times before the current shitstorm when he suddenly finds himself on his back with a sharp object pressed against his throat. ‘Don’t move Mister Big Wheeze or i will cut you open from ear to ear’

‘I came here to kill you but i am having second thoughts on the matter, perhaps you and i can become partners in crime and turn this nation inside out and upside down what do you think Wheezy?’

‘First of all my name is Mister Big Cheese and i would never have anything to do with any half ass scheme you of come up with but first how did you find me so easily?”

‘You might think that you are special but you are just an ordinary rat like me Mister Not So Big Cheese,i followed your scent of course, you have your own very distinctive smell so i simply followed your odour all the way to the here and now.’

‘Congratulations Parmigiano now maybe you could smell your own tang and disappear up your own ass?’

‘Good one Mister Nobody just hear me out and if you decide that today is the day to die then i will do the deed with glee but i need a lieutenant that i can rely on and i know that we come from the opposite side of the spectrum but together we could achieve greatness and make the rat the head honcho and reduce the human to a beast of burden a slave to serve us whenever we whistle, so what do you say are you with me or not’

Mister Big Cheese has no intentions to become an underling to Parmigiano but when your death is in the hands of a crazy rat your choses are limited but at the same time it would be to tell the humans that they have become a little to big for their britches so he nods his head in agreement’

‘I wouldn’t move your head much if i were you Wheezy because my big toe is mighty sharp and could easily sever your spine but all jokes aside it is good to have you on my side, now my quest to have a world without the existence of the human being can begin’.

The two rats from polar opposites shake claws and immediately start talks of how they can exterminate the humans once and for all.

THE END

Who will win the battle of the species, the rat or the human?

Come back and read Part Three and i will give you the answer if i am still here.

‘Creeping Crawley’

25 Saturday Sep 2021

Posted by stevenjohnno in Uncategorized

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Tags

blood, contract killer, cops, guts, murder, shit, sniper

In a small park beneath the Sydney Harbour Bridge a forlorn teenager is hiding from the world behind the branches of a huge weeping willow.

Thirteen year old Graham ‘creepy’ Crawley shivers in fright as the residents go about their business oblivious to his presence just metres away.

Graham ran away from the family home in Parramatta two days ago after an argument with his parents leaving his mobile and his dog Rex behind.

Pencil weighing a mere 40kg the runaway nervously peers through the dense canopy half hoping to see his mum and dad telling to get home because Rex and little brothers are missing him terribly but the streets are empty except for a few stragglers.

His stomach growls in hunger Yeah come on arsehole grow some balls and go find us some food, i am starving’

Graham tries to ignore the little voice in his head but he has to admit that he could the eat the whole Macca’s menu if given the chance and with a final glance to see if the coast is clear he steps out into the night.

The Rocks is an historic part of Sydney with buildings dating back to the early 1800’s, its residents enjoy million dollar views and drive BMW’s and Mercedes Benz around enjoying their inner city lifestyle but Graham really couldn’t give a shit about the locals and their fancy cars all he wants at the moment is to find some food and a place to crash.

Luckily he finds a discarded box of fries on a table outside the local KFC , as he scoffs them down in one mouthful Graham notices a row of terraces down the end of a side street that look promising.

On closer inspection he notices that the terrace on the far end is boarded up with a condemned sign pinned to the front door ‘This is perfect now all i have to do is find a way to get inside.

A Harley Davidson is parked outside the terrace next door and a light is on upstairs but otherwise no one else is around so Graham creeps down the side lane and enters into a small courtyard.

Another notice is pinned to the back door warning that trespassers will be prosecuted but Graham ignores the warning sign and twists the door handle and to his surprise it opens and knowing that there could be drug addicts or squatters inside he takes a moment to listen for any sound of danger than he walks inside.

He automatically hits the light switch and Graham gets another pleasant surprise when a old dirty bulb flickers to life ‘Holy crap what next? A fridge full of chicken nuggets and choc chip ice cream would be nice’ but the space where the fridge should is empty ‘Oh well can’t have it all’

Graham suddenly remembers that the neighbours are still so he switches off the light and guided by the moonlight he walks upstairs to hopefully find a mattress to sleep on but all of the bedroom are empty but strangely a length of rope dangles from the ceiling out in the hallway and without a moments hesitation he gives it a good hard yank and a set of stairs lower down.

Staring up into the darkness the lonesome teenager is reluctant to take the first step but than the annoying little voice taking up his head space decides to add his two cents worth ‘What are you waiting for you pussy,just walk up the stairs because the attic could be full of sausage rolls and fairy floss but on the other hand you could enter a portal to another universe and worse still you could crawl up the anus of Uranus and disappear into the brown for eternity’

Graham rolls his eyes because it is bad enough to have an overactive voice in the head who doesn’t seem to know the old saying ‘silence is golden’

Once his eyes have stopped rolling in their sockets Graham takes a deep breath and hurries up the stairs into an attic full of cobwebs and dust motes and once his vision has adjusted to the darkness he notices an item over near a dividing wall.

A large wooden chest that looks like it hasn’t been opened since Aladdin lived in a cave shimmers in the moonlight beckoning Graham over for a closer look.

With visions of Gold coins, stolen treasure or even a few playboy magazines Graham quickly opens the lid to discover nothing but old black & white photos and newspapers.

Slamming the lid closed in frustration the impact loosens a few bricks from the dividing wall and they fall into the neighboring attic.

Worried that the people next door might have heard the commotion Graham waits for a few minutes but the only sound comes from a dog a street away so after prying a few more bricks loose he crawls through the gap.

Not usually one to steaky beak into other peoples business Graham opens the manhole cover and listens once again hoping that the occupants are asleep so he can sneak down and grab some food from the fridge but suddenly a voice is heard ‘Come on John i think that we should stay put for another week because i have a feeling that something is about to happen.’

‘Jesus Cathy, we have been here twiddling our thumbs in this shithole for far to long. I say that we pack it in and tell the boss that it is a lost cause’

‘Lets give it two more days John and if he doesn’t show then i agree we call it a day, now stop stop jabbering and eat your apple pie’

‘Apple pie’ Graham gasps ‘I would donate my left nut to science if i could taste just a spoonful of that pie’ but just to be safe he waits for an hour or two until all is quiet.

When he hears one of the couple snoring away the starving teenager lowers the staircase and creeps down the gloomy hallway and the snoring gets louder when he walks near a bedroom ‘God’ the voice in his pipes up ‘It sounds like someone is trying to start a broken down chainsaw but i digress, lets go find that pie and maybe there will be some ice cream and sprinkles’

Graham is about to say that nobody has sprinkles on apple pie but he doesn’t want to encourage the voice so he trundles silently into the kitchen and opens the fridge door.

Every shelf is crammed with enough food to feed a dozen sumo wrestlers for a month and sitting pride of place is three huge slices of apple pie on a plate.

Not even bothering to see if there is any ice cream Graham crams one slice into his gob and swallows it down in one bite.

After devouring all three slices in record time Graham grabs a plastic bag from beneath the sink and fills it to the brim with food then he drags the bag back to his terrace and after eating a slice of ham he falls asleep on the threadbare lounge only to be jolted awake four hours later ‘What in the fuck John did you go sleepwalking last and raid the fridge?’

‘Not as far as i know Cathy but pray tell me what has got your undies in a twist’

‘Don;t take that tone with me John because you know very well what i am talking about. the fridge has been cleaned out but worst of all john is that you ate the rest of the apple pie knowing full well that i was going to have a slice for morning tea plus you even had the gall to leave the dirty plate on the counter’

John who looks like one of the bikers on that TV show ‘Sons of Anarchy’ knows that it is useless trying to reason with his wife just tells her that he ‘ didn’t touch any food’ grabs the keys to his Harley and walks out the door.

Graham is in hysterics as he listens to the couple next door arguing but he has learnt his lesson so from now on he will only take enough food to fill his belly and not pig out like a well, a pig.

Once his enjoyment dies down boredom quickly settles in, Graham is tempted to venture outside but his parents have probably reported him missing by now and he is having to much fun to go home just yet so he decides to go and scope out the terrace on the other end of the building.

Cutting through the couples attic is his surprised to see that there isn’t a dividing wall so he slinks over and lifts the manhole cover and listens to see if anyone is at home and almost immediately a voice a voice drifts up from below. ‘Come on Eileen give us a kiss’

I have told you a thousand times Mr Redpath that i am your care giver not your girlfriend plus you are old enough to be my grand father’

‘Please Eileen just one kiss i will even put my teeth back in’

Having know interest in a toothless old coot Graham goes back to his terrace and finishes of the contents of his stolen goods.

Two nights later Graham decides to visit his neighbours to see if there is any one treats to be had and when he hears the chainsaw starting up he ventures into the kitchen and he almost cracks a fat when he opens the fridge door because staring him in the face is a gigantic chocolate cake.

Grabbing the cake with both hands Graham scurries back up to the attic and started to devour the cake bite by bite but then he hears the lady below berating her husband and what she has to say causes him to slam his arsehole shut, ‘Did you enjoy eating the chocolate cake John? Because let me tell you that i mixed in enough laxatives to make a buffalo shit non stop for a week’

John has heard enough ‘Cathy Quinton i have heard enough, i haven’t been raiding the fridge plus you know as well as i do that i am not a huge fan of Chocolate so why would i eat it?’

Cathy leans in and stares deep into her husbands eyes and from experience she knows that he is telling the truth, but if John hasn’t been steaking the food who has been?’

A strangled cry from above answers her question.

Graham knows that if the doesn’t make it to a toilet real quick he will spray his undies so he runs downstairs to his terrace pulling his pants down on the way, with a sigh of relief he sits on the throne and unleashes a liquid torrent not seen since biblical times.

After visiting the toilet ten times over the following hour Graham starts to develop an arm like Popeye from all the wiping and to make matters worse he has used all of the toilet paper.

‘John there is someone up in the attic, go grab a torch and take a look while i hold the fort’

The harried husband yanks on the rope to lower the staircase then he shines the light all around the attic Cathy what if there is a werewolf up here, if it rips my throat out then you will become a widow’

‘I will take that chance now get up there before i kill you myself’

John climbs the remaining two steps ‘There is no one up here but the chocolate cake is on the floor so some one was up here but that also means that someone was in our house’

When John walks back down into the hallway his wife grabs his arm ‘John what if it was Brett Price he could kill us in our sleep next time’

‘Cathy Price is an adult he wouldn’t be sneaking around an attic and come down here to steal some cake, that is something that a child would do so stop worrying, now what’s for tea because i am starving’

Chicken casserole John, it will be ready in about ten minutes’

‘Chicken again Cathy, that is the fourth time this week you must have been a chicken farmer in a past life or something because you sure do love your chicken’

It isn’t by chance that the couple are currently residing at 4/126 Oceanview Drive the Rocks, they are both constable’s with the Australian Federal Police, they have been hunting notorious contract killer Brett Raymond Price for over a decade but the killer has managed to elude them every step of the way.

The Price family grew up next door at 2/126 so the couple are working undercover because by all reports Price is back in town so the authorities are hoping that he will return to the place where he grew up but that leaves John and Cathy Quinton in the firing line.

Graham’s bowels are still doing somersaults and with no toilet paper at hand he has no choice but to go searching for some so he enters the attic and walks over to Mr Redpath’s terrace.

The sun only set an hour ago so Graham knows that the old man is likely still awake but with his guts threatening to explode again he has no choice but to go down stairs and take a few rolls of toilet paper so the lowers the steps and creeps along the hallway looking for the bathroom.

Opening the bathroom Graham is happy to see a pack of four rolls on the floor, but his smile vanishes when his bowels tell him to take a seat and buckle up.

The stench hits him hard’ Jesus that stinks, even the sewer rats will run from that one’

‘Hello who is out there? Did someone just die a gruesome death because it sure smells like it’.

‘Come in here right now, i have a shotgun and i am not afraid to use it, so show your face before i turn you into minced meat’

Timidly Graham enters Mr Redpath’s bedroom to find that the old man is bedridden and there is no shotgun in sight ‘Who are you and what are you doing in my house?’

‘Huh, don’t you remember me grandpa? It is me Graham your favourite grandson’

‘Come closer boy so that i can see you better, why course i recognize you now, it is good of you to visit but why are you stinking up my house and walking around with a pack of toilet paper.

‘Sorry grandpa but i ate a dodgy piece of chocolate cake and got the squirts but i am alright now and i was restocking the bathroom with toilet paper but enough talk why don’t i go make us a sandwich or something’

‘No need Graham i only ate an hour ago plus my caregiver will be here in a few hours, now take a seat and tell me why it has taken so long for you to visit’

The odd pair spend an hour talking about girls, motorbikes and why hair grows down there in your underwear.

When Graham hears a car door slam outside he knows that he should go before the caregiver walks inside’ I gotta go now grandpa, it was good talking to you but i have to do some homework’

‘Sure thing Graham thanks for taking the time to talk to me but before you go let me give you a little something’

Reaching under the mattress Mr Redpath pulls out a wad of notes and hands Graham a $10 bill ‘Here you go boy, now take care and come back anytime you want’.

‘Sure thing grandpa, it was nice talking to you’

‘Holy shit Cathy, they just said on the News that a man has been murdered over on Trinity Street which is only five minutes from here .

Cathy wanders in wiping her hands on an apron ‘What did you say John, i am in the middle of making a chicken pie’

I said a guy was murdered down near the shopping centre, the newsreader said that it looks like a gang related shooting but i believe that was Brett Price that did the bloke in’

‘Price is coming home Cathy so i think that we should call for some backup before the doo doo hits the fan’

‘Calm down John if Price is close and notices any unusual activity he will turn tail and we might never see him again, i say we just sit tight and let him walk into our trap but go call the lieutenant and let him know that we believe that our target is getting close and to have a team on standby’

‘Will do love, um that pie smells good but i hope that there isn’t any bones this time’

‘It isn’t my fault if someone didn’t do their job in the factory John now shut up and go set the table’

Taking a snooze on the lounge Graham is dreaming about losing his virginity to his hot teacher Miss Thomas, a tent is taking shape in the front of his pants and things are about to reach a climax when he is jolted awake by the sound of breaking glass ‘Holy shit someone is trying to break in’

Brett Raymond Price once inside quickly makes himself comfortable in the familiar surroundings, he wanders from room to room dredging up memories both good and bad.

Price is tall and lanky with fiery red hair that he usually hides under a tattered Canterbury Bulldogs baseball cap but his hair isn’t his most distinctive feature, his eyes are a dark brown almost and people have said that when he stares at you it is like looking into the dead eyes of a great white shark.

Price was the eldest of four brothers and from an early age he had a fascination with weapons particularly guns and knifes.

His family used to travel up to Nundle where his shooting skills help to bring down over one hundred feral pigs.

Price was a natural when it came to using a high powered rifle to kill a pig from long range and he took great delight in slitting a hogs throat to put it out of its misery then feeding the entrails to his dogs.

He was loner who patrolled the streets at night with a slug gun and any family pet that had the misfortune to get in his sights was put down and left bleeding in the gutter.

When he turned fourteen he held up a corner store with a knife and escaped with over $500 a fortune for a teenager.

Word soon got around that he was a kid to avoid at all costs and many locals knew that it was only a matter of time before he murdered some poor soul.

When his parents heard the rumors swirling around the suburb they confronted their wayward child and gave him an ultimatum either go live with his uncle Cliff out near Dubbo or go into a boys home until he turned eighteen.

Price chose to go out west and live with his uncle but he soon got in trouble and even his uncle who was a brutal man couldn’t control his short tempered nephew.

Three months later Cliff Crawley was found with his throat cut from ear to ear plus he had been slit open with his intestines splattered on the living room carpet.

Brett Raymond Price was suspected of committing the heinous crime but he had disappeared into the bush, the police believe that he made his way to Queensland where he hid for eighteen months.

Tired of hiding out in central Queensland Price enlisted in the Australian Army using a fake ID, his shooting skills were soon recognized by his superiors and he was drafted into the special forces where he quickly developed into an elite sniper.

When Australia and its allies entered the second Gulf War Corporal Price soon honed his skills recording over 120 kills but his evil ways soon came to the fore and he once again began to enjoy the killing shooting both the enemy and civilians alike.

To avoid an international scandal Price was arrested and placed in the brig, knowing that he faced life imprisonment he bribed a guard and escaped to Oman and from there he made his way to London and soon found employment as a contract killer.

He was a sniper shooting his victims from long range but now he prefers to get close to his target killing them with one knife thrust to the neck.

Now he is back in Sydney squatting at his parents old terrace in the Rocks waiting for the heat to die down after his latest hit.

He has dyed his hair blond and has recently began wearing blue contact lenses, his mobile rings and the killer smiles ‘Yeah it went as planned, i killed him with a gun liked you asked just make sure that the money is put into my account or i will hunt you down and kill not only you but your whole family’

Up in the attic Graham is scared out of his mind and in his hurry to escape he trips and falls ‘Shit’ the voice in his head snaps’ Can’t you do anything right now go to Mr Redpath and get him to ring the Police’

‘What in the fuck’ Price mutters ‘Whoever is up there stay where you are or i will shoot your head off’

Grabbing his Ruger pistol and his razor sharp bowie knife the killer yanks on the length of rope then races up the stairs into the attic but there is no one in sight.

Reaching the Quinton’s attic he stops in his tracks when he hears a couple talking in the terrace below ‘Did you hear that John, someone in up in the attic again’

‘I heard Cathy and no arguments this time, i am calling in for some reinforcements, Price is to dangerous for us to handle on our own, have your gun ready while i call the lieutenant’

Knowing that he has to stop the cop from calling in Price quickly lowers the stairs and scampers down the hall into the living room and before the two cops can react he aims his pistol at them ‘Now don’t do anything stupid and i will let you live’

‘Okay both of you throw your phones on the floor then go sit on the lounge and put your hands above your head’

Knowing they have little choose the cops throw their mobiles on the carpet, Price keeps an eye on the pair while he smashes the phones with his Doc Martens.

Pointing his pistol at John he orders him to remove his shoelaces and tie his partners hands behind her back and once that has been done Price uses the other lace to tie around the male cop’s hands.

Searching the kitchen cupboards he finds a roll of duct tape then he returns to the living room and puts a strip of tape over both of the cop’s mouths and for extra protection he ties the tape around their hands and also around their ankles. ‘Alright Batman and Robin sit tight while i figure out how to dispose of your bodies without being seen’ John and Cathy Quinton look at each other with tears streaming down their faces, they know that Price will show them no mercy so they say a silent goodbye and wait for the end’

Will the Quinton’s survive their ordeal?

Will Graham be able to call for help?

To find out the answer come back and read the final chapter coming soon.

‘A Little Place Called Hell’

23 Friday Oct 2020

Posted by stevenjohnno in stories

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

abuse, blood, crazy, hell, horror, murder, sever

36 year old Alison Reddy takes a deep breath and slowly exhales.

Sitting in the back seat of her battered old chevy wagon her two children have been squabbling since she strapped them in and drove from their home in Lincoln Nebraska.

Now four hours later Alison is about ready to explode ‘If you two don’t quieten down right this minute i swear i will turn the car around’

‘I know that you are excited to visit gran and pop but you need to settle down or i will tan both of your hides like i did last week remember?’

Nine year old Molly and her six year old brother Kevin instantly sit up straight in their seat and rub at old and new injuries but the bruises inside will be forever out of reach.

Alison looks back at her offspring in the rear view mirror and is pleased to see them behaving for once without her needing to raise a hand.

Ever since her husband Randy walked out a year or so back Alison has tried her best to be a good mom but it isn’t easy being a single parent.

A whimper of fright from the back seat brings her back ‘Sorry Kevin but you know that mommy likes her peace and quiet so be a good little boy and soon we will stop for lunch and you and Molly can order whatever you want’

Alison drives down the highway gripping the steering wheel like she is trying to strangle it ‘God why did my parents feel the need to move all the way down to Florida to retire for fuck sake’

Stealing another glance at her children and is shocked to see them covered in cuts and bruises looking like the living dead.

Running a hand through her long greasy hair the harried mother does what she has always done in times of stress, she takes a long pull from a bottle of gin that was sitting in the console within easy reach.

Molly and Kevin notice their mommy drinking from a bottle and know that no matter if they behave or not there will be trouble.

The two abused souls slide down in their seat trying to disappear but trouble has a habit of finding you wherever you choose to hide.

Replacing the cap Alison dares another look back at her children she is pleased to see that they now look fresh faced and rosy cheeked ‘Almost there kiddo’s’

Molly and Kevin smile back but the smiles are etched deep with past pain and sorrow.

Ten minutes later she veers off the highway and drives towards a town called Seabridge, which is strange because Seabridge didn’t appear on her navigation system but she could with something to eat so Seabridge it is.

Rounding a bend Alison barely glances at a sign on the side of the road but that glance was enough to make her heart turn to stone.

Slamming on the brakes the chevy skids to stop fifty yards past the sign. ‘Stay in the car children i just need to have another look at the sign back there, i wont be long’

In the back seat Molly and Kevin shimmer and shine in a ghostly manner disappearing for a second before reluctantly returning.

Alison approaches the sign in trepidation but she knows what she saw so this time Alison takes a good hard look.

WELCOME TO HELL

BURN WITH ME ALISON

THE DEVIL.

Pop – Too many to mention.

Alison knows that she has to get out of here before it is too late so after running back to the car she screams at the back seat occupants ‘OK kids buckle up tight i um just remembered that i left the back door unlocked so i need to go back before someone breaks in’

‘Mommy just call Mr Jones next door’ Molly pipes up ‘He can go over and lock it and we can go see gran and pop’

Yeah mommy’ Kevin butts in ‘But please i need food and i need it now’

Alison isn’t listening because she has more pressing issues at hand like how to escape from hell and live to talk about it.

She knows that she will more then likely end up in hell but she isn’t quite ready yet but after checking over her shoulder for oncoming traffic Alison knows that she has no choice but to drive into hell.

Behind her the road has vanished leaving nothing but darkness blacker then black.

Two hundred yards down the road Alison is surprised to see what appears to be an ordinary main street you would see in any small American town except that there are no cars in sight and the sidewalks are pedestrian free.

Thankful that the kids don’t seem to notice that they are in mortal danger Alison and she can’t really blame them because for all intents and purposes hell looks like a ghost town.

Looking down to the end of main street searching for an escape route but there is nothing to see except a thick black fog.

‘Just put your foot down and drive all the way into hell Alison because that is where you belong you evil bitch’

‘You wouldn’t be here if you didn’t murder me and your own parents and because of your petty jealously and lust for money’

‘Thankfully the kids escaped from the abuse and are somewhere safe away from your evil presence’

Alison’s skin crawls at the sound of her dead husbands voice coming from the backseat.

With gentle arms draped over his children Randall Reddy sneers back at her ‘Your time to burn is nigh Alison and i hope that the fire consumes your soul forever and a day’

‘Fuck you Randall i should of killed you before i got pregnant with your spawn’

Crying tears of joy and acceptance Alison puts her foot down and drives all the way into hell to meet her maker.

‘Wake up you evil fucking bitch’

The strung out female patient sleeping in room 219 on the lower level at the New Brunswick Mental Facility opens her eyes and looks up at a huge menacing figure staring down at her with contempt.

Darnel Brathwaite is an african american nurse who has been attending to his patients needs and helping them in any way he can.

Perhaps helping isn’t the word that the patients themselves would use when describing Darnel’s conduct but Brathwaite couldn’t give a shit what they think of him.

All he is thinking about is helping the crazy lady in room 219 depart this world and get buried deep where the bugs and worms can eat her flesh to their hearts content.

Darnel has helped over 100 patients in various facilities nationwide reach the other side so the lady in room 219 shouldn’t prove to difficult to send on her way.

But first why not have a little fun?

Alison Reddy struggles to get comfortable as the buckles and straps and buckles of her straight jacket bite into her skin.

Her mind is hazy and she is having trouble focusing on the huge cruel nurse in her room but through the haze she notices a syringe in one of his hands and a manilla folder in the other.

‘Glad you could join me Alison, it is almost 9.30 and my shift ends at midnight,i will go home to my cat and a six pack of beer and you will also be going on a journey but before you leave let me read you a bed time story’

This story i am sure you have read many times before but never mind let me read it again so you know exactly why you need to go on a one way trip’

‘On 20th January 1984 Mary Lou Reddy gave birth to a healthy baby daughter who her husband Ben insisted be named Alison after his favorite grandmother who he loved very much.’

‘Alison was a happy normal toddler but when she started school began to show a cruel streak by physically abusing the other students and teachers’

You were immediately removed from school and sent to this facility where you received shock treatment and for a few years your behavior returned to normality’

Braithwaite pauses briefly to adjust himself ‘A week before your twelve birthday you came home from running an errand where after devouring a huge slice of chocolate cake your loving mother made for you ‘

‘You returned her love by picking up a knife and stabbed her 32 times’

‘Then you went out to the garage where your father was working beneath his beloved 57 Pinto’

‘With wicked intentions you wound down the jack slowly crushing your own father slowly until he died an agonizing death’

Once again the excited nurse pauses this time to release his member that he slowly begins to stroke.

‘After murdering your parents you were sentenced to a maximum security institution for dangerous juveniles in upstate New York where you were treated for your maladies’

The governor of the state believing that you were completely rehabilitated released back into the community on 1st July 2009 and you laid low for a while behaving like a regular person but you and i both know different don’t we Alison?’

The patient in the straight jacket smiles at the story teller with a grin that almost causes him to lose rhythm but Braithwaite continues to choke the chicken even as the smirk on the patients face tells him that trouble is afoot.

You befriended a young man named Randall Reddy at church who had no idea that you were a murderer and an evil demon and you didn’t tell him did you Alison?

This time Brathwaite avoids eye contact but the stroking intensifies’

Braithwaite in his haste to spend an evening of fun failed to make sure that the he tied the straight jacket securely and now Alison even in her sedated state has managed to slip an arm from the restraint.

Now the evil killer is just waiting for the right moment to strike.

‘Not long after meeting Reddy you were pregnant with your daughter Molly and three years later you gave birth to a son who you named Kevin’

‘For ten years you lived in suburbia with your family and everything appeared peachy on the outside but they weren’t were they Alison?”

‘In the decade you lived in Lincoln twenty three people who lived within a ten mile radius from your home disappeared’

‘These people were completely innocent and didn’t deserve tp come in contact with you’

Brathwaite has almost reached the point of no return and his breathing has become erratic ‘Your husband Randall never knew who you really were and on his 31st birthday you shot him in the head and ran naked onto the street which is why you currently a resident here’

‘Thank God your children have had their names changed and are in a place where you will never find them and hopefully they will grow to be good people despite having you as their mother’

‘Do you have anything to say before you begin your travels?

Alison motioned for the nurse to come closer and Brathwaite despite all of his training leans in close beating his meat at a furious pace.

Alison launches forward and bites down hard on the nurses nose and after a few shakes of her head the morsel is ripped free.

Braithwaite despite being three times the size of the patient offers little resistance and soon goes into shock and is now at the mercy of the crazy women in room 219′

Alison gets to work, first she shoves the nose down the nurses throat then using the metal tip of a felt pen she found in the nurses pocket Alison severs the shriveled penis from the shell shocked nurse and it to is forced down his throat.

Finally Alison empties the contents of the syringe into his thigh and soon the nurse is dead.

With her heart beating strong in her chest Alison feels exhilarated as the taste of the nurses blood refreshes memories from her past.

Now she has the taste again Alison needs and wants more blood on her hands but first she will need to escape from this shithole.

So she settles down to think of a way out of here.

Ten thousand miles away down in Australia two two teenagers have no idea that their birth mother has just killed again and is thinking about holding a family reunion.

THE END.

‘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.

She Dug Me Up

20 Saturday Jun 2020

Posted by stevenjohnno in stories

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Tags

blood, cruelty, death, horror, magnolia, monster, revenge, winter

My name was Norman Babbage and i am currently residing four foot beneath the surface in my own backyard.

Th worms have been very busy today, I sense and feel them as they squirm and wriggle between my ribs, turning my rotting flesh into nutrient rich compost.

I have been down here in the dank damp earth for two weeks now ever since my wife Maureen split my head open with a hammer while i slept.

After committing the dastardly deed the murderous bitch wrapped me in the bed sheet, dragged me down the stairs and out into the backyard where under the cover of darkness she rolled me into a hole that i had dug a few weeks prior.

My killer told me that she was planning on buying a few magnolia trees to screen our house from the neighbors and silly me believed her.

Maureen and i had been married for only five years and in that time her love for me descended into a cesspool of hate.

We met at a local bowling alley where we got to talking and i soon forgot all about the game, it was love at first sight.

Maureen was big even back then and easily out weighed me by thirty pounds or more, she had long blonde hair and a pleasant smile.

Before i knew it we had convened to a motel room where we made love until the sun come up.

As the two of us drank our coffee the next morning Maureen called me ‘Stormin’ Norman’ and said i fucked like a love struck teenager.

Than she grabbed my hand in a vise like grip and uttered the words ‘You are mine now Norman, you can never leave me’

I should have walked out there and then but i didn’t think she was serious but she was, deadly serious.

Maureen was 23 years old and i had just turned 25.

Six months later we were married and moved into a house at 343 Hillside Drive Glendale California.

The first year of our union was fairly smooth sailing but i had noticed that Maureen was very clingy and would hardly let me out of the house unless i needed to use the bathroom or when i went to work at the post office.

When my shift was over Maureen would be waiting outside in her old Corolla and soon i began to feel like a prisoner in my own home.

If i said that i was thinking of going for a few beers with my work mates Maureen would tag along and make the situation very uncomfortable and soon my friends stopped asking me to go with them.

I grew increasingly anxious and that is when i first thought about leaving my wife and getting my life back.

Maureen must have sensed my unease because one night a week or so later i was in the bathroom shaving before i went to work when she sidled up behind me and at first i thought she was after some loving but i was sorely mistaken.

‘Don’t even think about leaving me Norman because if you do i will hunt you down and drag you home’

‘Have a good hard look in the mirror Norman, go on you ugly little excuse for a man, remember Norman you are mine and the only way you will leave me is in a pine box’

I look in the mirror and i don’t like what i see, Maureen is right i am a geeky looking man your typical nerd plus i am also a coward so i don’t say a word as i change into my work uniform and silently get in her car and she drives me to the post office. ‘See you after work Norman, remember i will be waiting’

For almost another two years i put up with her mental and physical abuse but my frustration was about to boil over , i couldn’t deal with her shit or stay silent any longer so the bitch came home from grocery shopping i was going to confront her and demand a divorce.

Maureen arrived home in a foul mood as usual ‘Norman can you get your finger out of your ass and give me a hand around here, i am tired of being your slave’

I now realize that i should have moved out while she was gone but i needed to confront her face to face ‘Maureen i am leaving today and i won’t be back,you have made my life a misery and i can’t take it anymore’

‘Sure thing Norman pack your bags and get the fuck out of here’

That wasn’t the reaction i was expecting but i quickly threw a few things into suitcase and headed towards the door when Maureen called from the kitchen ‘I can drive you to the bus station if you like but i forgot where i put the car keys’

I look at the hall table where she usually leaves her keys but they aren’t there maybe she left them on the coffee table.?

As i turn to have a look WHACK WHACK WHACK I didn’t feel any pain as the rolling pin cracked open my skull and i believe that i was dead before i hit the floor.

Nor did have any comprehension as my body was dragged out into the backyard and deposited into the hole that i had dug for Maureens Magnolia tree’s.

The Magnolia’s were delivered yesterday waiting to be planted into the ground and now that my body would provide them with essential nutrients i am sure Maureen will fill in the hole and i will disappear forever.

When i was covered by dirt and the moonlight was blotted out for the final time i didn’t bat an eyelid or shed a single tear.

For all intents and purposes i am dead.

The worms are having a fine old time feasting on my decaying flesh and every now and then i would get a drenching when Maureen watered the magnolia’s to make sure the tree established and my memory would stay buried for eternity.

But all of my wives efforts would soon come back and bite her on her huge oversized ass.

As i lay in the dank damp ground the roots of the magnolia weaved between my bones supporting me like an old friend.

For Maureen the situation will soon become very grave, very grave indeed.

Maureen Babbage is sitting out on the back porch enjoying a cup of coffee and a cigarette.

It has been a week since she buried her husband and she knows that sooner or later someone will come looking for him.

Yesterday she rang his boss at the post office and told that Norman had run off to New York with a girlfriend so don’t expect him back anytime soon.

Plus hopefully it will be a while before the cops come snooping around because Maureen has plans to move down to Mexico and start a new life.

Stubbing out her cigarette she wanders into the yard to do a spot of gardening’

The magnolia trees are settling in nicely and hopefully the roots are digging deep helping the worms to dispose of Normans carcass.

Grabbing the hose she gives the trees another good soaking ‘Sorry Norman but if anyone was to end our it would be me and not a spineless piece of shit like you’

‘Now be a good boy and give the bugs a good feed so my magnolia’s can grow big and strong, something that you never were and never will be.’

Four feet below the deceased Norman Babbage soaks up the water that flows past his half devoured tongue.

As the precious liquid permeates into his system his ears listens to the stinging words coming down from above.

Norman chews on a root and digests the protein with gusto because he knows that even though he is still dead one day that bitch will walking and breathing will be brought to justice.

A few days later Maureen is beginning to show some signs of stress.

The Magnolia trees are starting to look unhealthy particularly the one she planted above Norman’s corpse.

Surely Norman’s rotting flesh and the copious amounts of water it has received the trees should be thriving so why are they dropping leaves.?

As she smokes another cigarette Maureen sneaks glances out to her magnolia’s like a mother wolf eyeing her prey.

She knows that somehow her dead husband is responsible for her misery.

Even in death the asshole continues to curse her life ‘Why can’t the bastard just up and die already?’

Night after night Maureen goes out to the porch and every night her paranoia cloaks her in a thick black cloud.

The coffee has been replaced by a bottle of gin the customary cigarette glows like a firefly as she draws in the soothing smoke.

As she swallows a mouthful of gin she picks up a krispy kreme donut and the ever expanding Maureen inhales the sugar in one breath.

Through bloodshot eyes she scans the backyard for any signs of activity but for now the coast is clear.

Another donut is about to be dispatched when the voice of her long dead mother enters her alcohol soaked sugar laden brain ‘Maureen you know that you should never have done what you did, but drinking gin and eating donuts wont undo the deed’

In defiance Maureen empties the bottle in one gulp ‘Fuck you mother and the horse you rode in on’

Remember Maureen that you have always been a big girl but now you are fat and if you continue in your ways, well i am afraid for you Maureen’.

Cut back on the alcohol and sugar and don’t let the darkness infest your brain and everything will be ok’

Goodnight sweetheart don’t let the bed bugs bite’

Maureen shudders as the old bitches voice fades away ‘Thanks for the advice Mom but why don’t you just fuck off and stop interfering’

When no reply is forthcoming Maureen opens another bottle of gin and has a long swallow than she stumbles off to bed ‘It isn’t the bed bugs i am worried about mother it is what lays beneath the magnolia’

As the murderess sleeps she moans with a mixture of pain and pleasure but soon the noise transcends into a snore that causes all of the dogs in the neighborhood to scurry away and hide.

Out in the backyard the leaves from the magnolia trees continue to drop and beneath the surface the roots have evolved , now instead of soaking up the water and nutrients and feeding the tree they now direct all the life giving goodness into the blood and bones of the slain human.

Soon the decaying flesh will renew and his tormented mind will mend and seek vengeance.

The following days continue to be a bane of misery for Maureen.

She now enjoys a liquid breakfast lunch and dinner and the donuts and cigarettes are constant companions by her side.

Deep down she knows that Norman is still to blame for all the wrongness in her life, so tomorrow she will go and buy herself a spade ‘OK motherfucker so you want to play? Now it is my turn’

Next morning Norman is enjoying a bit of peace and quiet relaxing as his body continues to heal when he feels a disturbance in the soil.

A glint of metal catches a dead fish eye and a smile of sorts forms on his face ‘Good god the stupid bitch is digging me up to make sure i am still down here’

When the sun hits his body Norman he doesn’t react ( because he is still technically dead) ‘Jesus Maureen you have really let yourself go, now go away and eat another donut but leave some room in that ample stomach because soon i will be force feeding you a shit load of trouble’

Maureen looks down at her still dead husband and a smile cracks her face as she refills the hole ‘How could i have been so stupid to believe that Norman had somehow come back to life and was responsible for my misery’

Satisfied that her husband is down in the hole where he belongs Maureen heads inside for a well earned drink.

The fog thickens outside the Babbage household, winter is almost here but Maureen is sleeping nice and cozy in her bed.

She doesn’t feel the cold snap approaching or see the magnolia roots creeping around the backyard whilst they wait for their master to give the order to strike.

As she dreams evil thoughts Maureen is oblivious that her life is about to turn into a living hell.

When dawn arrives the birds are chirping feverishly as the eat all the fruits and berries they can manage before they fly south for the winter.

As they fly from tree to tree the birds give the magnolia trees a wide berth because they know that death is lurking below.

Maureen wakes to the sound of the birds eating a little too loud for her liking ‘Shut the fuck up you feathered assholes can’t a person get any sleep around here?’

Knowing that she wont get back to sleep Maureen sticks a foot out from beneath the blankets and once satisfied that it isn’t too cold she climbs out and waddles towards the bathroom.

Out beneath the magnolia Norman is waving his arms around conducting the roots into a well orchestrated frenzy.

He knows that despite his recent rejuvenation his time is limited because once the ground the ground freezes the magnolia will become dormant and he will die again.

Now Maureen has to join him in his grave before it is too late so he plucks one thick root with a bony finger and the root slides up the stairs seeking its victim like a mamba stalking its prey.

Maureen rubs the sleep from her eyes as she on the toilet doing her business.

Then she lets out a strangled scream as a magnolia root appears beneath the bathroom door ‘What in the fuck?’ Maureen whispers as she tries to push herself away from the intruder but there is nowhere to go.

Maureen nervously tinkles every last drop of urine from her body as she stares at the crack beneath the door and for a minute it looks like the root has gone and Maureen prays to the heavens vowing never to drink another drop of gin ever again.

She stands to adjust her clothing when the root one inch round shoots through the narrow opening and wraps itself around her left ankle in a death grip and pulls her off her feet.

There is no way the Maureen is going to fit but the root really couldn’t give a shit and it yanks with all its might and both of Maureens legs snap with a wicked snap that sends all of the birds outside to wing and they take off towards Mexico at break neck speed.

Th bathroom door splinters and Maureen explodes out into her bedroom where she desperately tries to grab something to stop herself being dragged to her doom but the root is having none of that and pulls her across the carpet like a dog pulling a sled up in Alaska.

Maureen becomes aware that her sweat pants and undergarments are wrapped around her knees ‘Please at least let me pull up my pants so if i am to die at least i can leave this world with some dignity’

From out in the garden there comes a muffled reply ‘You haven’t got a dignified bone in your body Maureen, all you have ever done is look out for yourself and treat other people like shit’

‘And if there is a God Maureen you will never get to meet him because you are going to hell where you will burn for eternity’

Maureen sobs in terror at the sound of her dead husbands voice but even with two broken legs and a tree root wrapped an ankle her meanness surfaces ‘Well if it isn’t stormin’ Norman back from the grave, see you soon and when i get my hands on you i will kill you again motherfucker’

The root tightens its grip and Maureen gets the message and clamps her mouth shut for the first time in her life.

But it doesn’t last for long because when she starts to descend the stairs in screams in pain and total terror.

BIONK BIONK BIONK

The back of Maureen’s head strikes the first three steps and she bites her tongue and blood clouds her vision, only twenty two steps to go.

BIONK BIONK BIONK

Upon reaching the bottom step the voice from beyond decides that this is the perfect time for another chat ‘Sorry about that Maureen that last step was a doozy’

‘Soon we will be together once again but i am sorry to tell you that it will be a brief reunion.

Maureen’s tongue is bloody and swollen but she still manages ‘FOOK YOU NORMAN’

As she is dragged past the vegetable that Norman planted a couple of years ago Maureen grimaces in pain but remembers that the pumpkin’s were plentiful and made excellent soup plus the tomatoes were plump and tasty.

She offers no resistance as she is pulled along the well manicured lawn.

Her fingers and thumbs leave ten shallow furrows in the grass that would be ideal to plant cucumber and maybe some radish and chives.

Maureen sigh’s in frustration ‘If only i was a better person then Norman would still be alive and i wouldn’t be in this this predicament’

In his crypt beneath the magnolia Norman gets little comfort from his wives torment as the root delivers her faster then the post office ever could.

He sits at the entrance propped up by a tangle of roots, his decaying body now resembles a bloated spider waiting to devour its next meal.

Hello Maureen sorry to drag you away from your beauty sleep bur it wasn’t working anyway’

‘Come join me, I promise to make to quick and painless;

Maureen doesn’t argue or complain as her husbands bony hand grips her wrist and guides her over the threshold.

The couples flesh and memories seep down into the earth where they blend together in a mixture of oil of water, damned to rest together in turmoil.

THE END.

Roadkill ( Mantle Piece of Death )

11 Saturday Apr 2020

Posted by stevenjohnno in stories

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Tags

america, bald eagle, blood, cannibalism, cougar, murder, roadkill, taxidermist

As soon as the sun disappeared below the horizon a family of raccoons scampered from the safety of their burrow on the endless search for food.

The mother raccoon keeps an eye out for predators while her two youngsters dig for worms and grubs whilst the male raccoon runs over to a nearby creek in the hope of catching a fish or two to feed his hungry brood.

After ten minutes the father raccoon grows increasingly frustrated when he fails to catch anything but then he suddenly remembers a spot downstream where he caught a huge catfish a while back.

But to get there he has to cross a gravel road , he has traversed this road on many occasions but this time the little rascal is in mortal danger.

Just as he stepped onto the road a pickup truck travelling at speed hits the tiny creature killing him instantly.

The raccoon is one of man animals that will killed on the roads across america today, roadkill on a massive scale.

58 year old Myron Oxenford has been employed at Bilford county Mississippi for just on forty years and he takes great pride in his job.

Every day except for the lords day he drives his pickup around the county scraping roadkill from the streets and depositing them to the side so other animals don’t get killed as they eat the kill.

Myron is a big man who some say resembles Kenny Rogers having a very bad day.

Today Myron is is a good mood as he picks up his keys for another day of keeping the streets of Bilford county clean and tidy and even though he probably wont admit Myron has a strange fixation for roadkill.

An hour into his shift Myron is cruising down a backwater road when he spots a dead raccoon in the middle of the road fifty yards ahead.

The raccoon is still relatively fresh and its skin is undamaged perfect for Myron’s weird hobby.

He is an amateur taxidermist and this critter will give him hours of stuffing pleasure.

At 3.30 pm Myron heads home with another collection of animals to keep him fed for weeks.

Most of them are to mangled to be stuffed and mounted except for the raccoon who looks like it could still be alive if not for a broken neck.

Myron skins the motley crew of squirrel, rattlesnake,gopher and groundhog and chops the meat into bite size pieces and throws it into a huge pot along with a few cups of broth and salt and pepper.

As he waits for his meal to cook Myron places the unfortunate raccoon’s pelt onto an armature stand and begins to stuff it with materid’s that are supposed to bring life back to dead animal but Myron’s taxidermy skills are below par so now the raccoon resembles a misshapen creature from an Edgar Allen Poe novel.

After decades of drinking over proof moonshine Myron brain has turned to mush and now he believes that if he talks to all the stuffed animals that decorate his cabin that one day they will all come back to life and run back into the woods alive and kicking.

So he always leaves a window open in case that day eventuates.

What Myron doesn’t know is that for a few months a tiny field mouse has been coming into his bedroom while he sleeps and has been drinking the pools of drool that collect on his pillow every night

Homer Simpson himself would be proud at the amount of saliva that dribbles and the mouse takes great joy in drinking the liquid and running out into the living room feeding the precious fluid into the mouths of the stuffed and mounted animals that sit on shelves and in particular the rodent feeds a bald eagle and cougar that sit on top of a mantle piece.

After indulging in a few too many jars of moonshine Myron wakes with a throbbing headache and a mouth dryer than the Saraha Desert.

So Myron drinks another jar to keep the gremlins at bay then after a shower he feels healthy enough to go about another day.

He grabs a glass of water before leaving the house but stops in his tracks and stares long and hard at the bald eagle on the mantle piece that he stuffed and mounted a few months ago.

His eyes must be playing tricks but he could have sworn that the eagle moved its wings a second ago but Myron has a laugh when he feels the breeze coming in the open window so he closes it and goes off to work.

26 year old Sally Nulksteader is out enjoying an early morning run along a back road grateful for an opportunity to get out in the sun while her husband Brett looks after their twin boys who turned one back in July.

Her track shoes hit the road hard as Sally runs around a bend but she doesn’t hear anything but the soothing sound coming from her ear bubs.

Sadly She will never touch her boys or hear their laughter ever again.

Myron is still feeling a little queasy as he drives a too fast around a sweeping bend.

His eyes widen is dread when he notices the lady running on the side of the road and he screams in horror when he feels her body under the wheels of his pickup.

‘Holy fucking shit’ Myron whispers not quite believing what has just happened.

He can still taste the alcohol on his breath and knows that he would be well and truly over the limit so he puts his foot down to flee the scene.

But than a voice whispers in his ear ‘What are you doing Myron? I prime piece of roadkill is there for the taking so go back and take it home and it will become your masterpiece’

Myron slams on his brakes reverses back and throws Sally Nulksteader’s body in the back of his pickup.

And to give himself an alibi he calls his boss and tells him that he has the flu and will spend the day in bed.

Myron spends an hour carefully removing the skin from the body of his first human display item.

He drapes the skin over an armature stand and leaves it to dry while he cuts her flesh from her bones and throws the tidbits into the pot with a few carrots and onions .

The unused meat in placed in sterilized jars and placed in his pantry where it will come in handy when the cold weather hits.

After eating his first meal of human flesh Myron grabs a jar of moonshine and goes into his room for an afternoon nap.

After waiting an hour to make sure it is safe the rejuvenated eagle swoops down from the mantle piece and begins to rip pieces of meat from the human skeleton littering the living room floor.

As the eagle eats gaining strength with every bite the cougar stays in place because it has another victim in mind.

A few hours later Myron staggers from his bedroom with the taste of human flesh still in his mouth and he is eager for another meal.

Then from its perch on the mantle piece the cougar springs down knocking Myron to the floor.

The big cat could just bite the back of its victims neck killing it instantly but the cougar wants this human to suffer so all it does in sit on the stunned man.

The eagle swoops down and using a piece of sinew it sews Myron’s mouth closed and ties his hands behind his back.

Then the raptor tears both eyeballs from their sockets and swallows them whole.

Myron writhes on the floor in agony as the raptor and cougar begin to feed.

The pair eat slowly at first but the blood soon awakens their taste buds and they get down to business ripping Myron apart eating him alive.

The amateur taxidermist screams in silent agony as the animals that he stuffed and mounted months ago finally put him out of his misery.

Now Myron Oxenford is the one who is well and truly stuffed.

THE END.

Incognito Mosquito

19 Saturday Oct 2019

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

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Tags

blood, disease, malaria, mosquitos, murder, nuclear blast, scientist, smallpox, sweden

It is 8 pm and Dr Stefan Johansson is checking his emails before calling it a night.

58 year old Johansson is a world renowned genetic scientist who is minor celebrity in his native Sweden after he won the Nobel Peace Prize in 2016 after he developed a simple blood test for the early detection of certain cancers.

A breakthrough that has the potential to save millions of lives worldwide.

For the last few months he has been working on a new treatment for malaria and the results so far are very promising.

But on the Wednesday evening Stefan is feeling a little apprehensive as he reads an email from his superior at Stockholm’s Centre of Genetics and Disease Control Professor Marke Pietermann.

Stefan is certain that Pietermann is jealous of his success so getting summoned to the Professor’s office at 9 am tomorrow morning can be nothing but bad news.

Stefan arrives a few minutes before nine the following morning and knocks on Pietermann’s office door ‘Good morning Dr Johansson I trust you slept well? Would you like a cup of coffee before I get down to business or shall I begin?’

Stefan looks at the mousy little man and nods for him to continue ‘Dr Johansson what I am about to tell will come as a complete shock to you but I am sorry to tell you that because of a huge cut to the Centre’s budget for the next financial year you have become excess to our requirements’

It takes Stefan a few seconds to comprehend what his asshole boss just said but when the words finally sink in the explodes out of his chair in rage.

‘Excess to your requirements! You really are a pompous prick aren’t you? I have won the Nobel Peace Prize for god sake and I am on the verge of a huge breakthrough in the treatment of malaria and you tell me that I am excess to your requirements! what a prize cunt you are Pietermann’

‘Calm down Dr Johansson there is no need for the foul language’

A scientist of your standing and reputation will have no trouble finding a new position’

‘Please clean out your desk and vacate the premises before 11 am Dr Johansson and make sure that any documents and research papers you have in your office stay here at the Centre because I am sure that I and a few of my colleagues will be able to finish what you started. Good day Dr Johansson’

Stefan cant believe what he is hearing and before he can control his rage he lands a vicious punch to the jaw of his former boss ‘See you in hell asshole’

Rubbing his knuckles Stefan rushes to his office and tosses any documents relating to his research into a wastepaper basket and sets it on fire than after wiping the hard drive on his computer clean.

After a quick look around to make sure he hasn’t left anything that Pietermann and his cronies can use he strides towards the door than it a fit of madness he opens a sealed glass cabinet and removes a vial of a virulent strain of malaria and slips it into a coat pocket.

A loud knock on the door startles Stefan and he turns to see an armed security guard standing on the threshold ‘ Sorry Dr Johansson but I have been ordered to escort you off the premises immediately’

Humiliated and despondent Stefan follows the guard out to the carpark and into the unknown.

Later that same day Stefan is arrested for assault and battery and is consequently sentenced by a judge to thirty days in prison.

Because of his status in the scientific world his arrest and imprisonment make headline news across Sweden.

All networks cover the story and the nation hears the sad tale of how a former Nobel Peace Prize winner can be reduced to nothing but a common criminal all because of Pietermann’s jealousy and greed.

Stefan was going to use his new treatment for malaria for the common good of people across the globe but now with a heart full of black is quest now is to wipe humanity from this planet starting with Professor Marke Pietermann but it will have to look like an accident because he would be suspect number one in a murder case.

Stefan is released from prison a month later and there was one good thing to come out of his confinement and that was that it gave him plenty of time to think and the one thing that he constantly thought about was using the mosquito’s that he has in his laboratory in his garage at home to create the ultimate murder weapon.

Working day and night Stefan hardly eats and survives on three hours sleep a night as he concentrates on creating a mosquito with wings that beat silently so they can approach their victim in slealth mode.

Also the incognito mosquito’s will possess a titanium outer shell that will make the mozzies virtually unsquashable.

And almost twelve months after his release twelve matt black Mosquito’s hover noiselessly over a petri dish than they settle on the edge of the dish and dip their tweeters in the blood and begin to feed.

The blood is laced with the nasty strain of malaria that Stefan stole from the Centre on the day he was fired.

Now he watches his proteges drink with hungry eyes knowing that the day of reckoning is fast approaching.

Any day now his squadron of modified mozzies will be ready to seek and destroy.

At his house in one of Stockholm’s most prestigious suburbs Professor Marke Pietermann is enjoying a rare evening without any paperwork to attend to so he opens a bottle of cognac and pours a snifter of the amber liquid and settles down to watch the opera on his huge ass TV.

After the fourth glass Pietermann wouldn’t have noticed if a herd of elephants entered the room so he never saw or felt twelve twerking tweeters pierce the skin on the back of his neck and start to drink his blood as they pumped him full of poison.

Watching through binoculars from across the street Stefan smiles in triumph when Pietermann collapses to the floor as the murderous mosquito’s continue to bleed him dry and fill him with malaria.

Satisfied with a job well done Stefan places a petri dish full of his own blood on a nearby window sill and a few minutes later his dozen accessories to murder land on the dish and the thirteen murderers head on home.

A week later Stefan is relaxing at home getting used to doing a whole lot of nothing when his thoughts are interrupted by the ringing of his landline ‘Good morning Dr Johansson my name is Greta Gunn and I know that you and Professor Pietermann didn’t exactly see eye to eye but I thought that I should call you and let you know that the Professor died last Friday’

‘I am sorry to hear the sad news Greta but who are you exactly?’

‘Oh I am sorry Doctor I really should have introduced myself better, I was Professor Pietermann’s assistant here at Stockholm’s Centre of Genetic’s and Disease Control and I don’t wish to sound insensitive but the Professors untimely death has created a vacancy here T the Centre and the board wants to know if you would be interested in filling the vacancy?’

‘Why thank you Greta could you please tell the board that I would be delighted to take up their kind offer’

‘I will certainly inform the board of your acceptance would you be available to begin your tenure here first thing Monday morning?’

‘Sure thing Greta I shall see you then’

Stefan can’t help but smile at the irony it seems that murder does pay.

Out in the garage the twelve masquerading Mosquito’s are having a snack on their masters blood as they dip their tweeters into another petri dish.

They are all grateful for the meal but they are growing increasingly bored by the lack of action

They like drinking blood like any other Mosquito but these mozzies were bred to kill and kill and so far business has been slow.

As his squadron of killer mosquito’s wait impatiently out in the garage in his plush living room Stefan is getting ready for his first day back working for his former employer.

How sweet it will be to sit on Pietermann’s office chair and enjoy the trappings as he bathes in the glory that he so richly deserves.

Killing Pietermann turned Stefan’s life completely around going from dust to diamonds and dreams into reality or so Stefan thinks.

Because sometimes a diamond can actually be a fake and the best dreams and turn into your worst nightmare.

At home Stefan’s pet mozzies have gone completely stir crazy.

They desperately need a fresh blood meal evertday not the stale out of date liquid their master expects them to drink plus their tweeters are aching to stab and slash a new victim.

The leader of the troop is a large mosquito named Fletcher Christian who has a blood lust greater than a vampire on heat and he takes it upon himself to organize a mutiny.

A vote is taken and it is agreed that their master is no longer fit to control their destiny so the twelve desperado’s decide that having outlived his usefulness Stefan has to go

As the mosquito’s plot his demise Stefan is in his new office struggling to with the role he played in the killing of Pietermann, he doesn’t regret the murder itself but the constant fear that the police will come knocking on his door in the middle of the night and drag him off to prison again.

Just after 2 pm the dozen mutinous mozzies land on a window sill at Stockholms Centre of Genetic’s and Disease Control and their leader Fletcher Christian orders his troops to fly inside and immobilize anyone that they come across while he will search for their master and dispose of him.

The twelve incognito mosquito’s fly silently from office to office feeding on their victims as they inject their payload of misery.

Some of the unfortunate’s receive a lethal dose of malaria while others will live to fight another day.

Stefan is busy working and has no idea that his twelve creations has staged a mutiny with him being the priority target.

He is concentrating on his computer screen and doesn’t sense the presence of Fletcher Christian hovering behind him.

Christian lands on the back of Stefan’s neck with the intention of killing his victim but at the last second he changes his mind and pushes his tweeter which is now the size of a hypodermic needle in between C4 and C5 vertebrate leaving Stefan immobile for life he will never walk again.

Christian hovers in front of his victims eyes so he can see who inflicted the damage and is now the new master.

Stefan can do nothing but watch as one of his creatures flies off to inflict more damage.

Christian joins his squadron on the window sill.

They have all drunk so much blood over the last couple of days and have grown to an enormous size for a mosquito.

The twelve now resemble sleek stealth bombers with the menace of a pit bull and I pity anyone who gets in their way.

Before they head home Christian decides to fly a final mission down to the lower just to make sure that they haven’t missed another human full of fresh blood.

Dr Frank Gruber a German scientist on loan to the Centre is working alone in his sealed laboratory unaware of the carnage upstairs.

He is wearing a full body protective suit and draws oxygen from a tank strapped to his back.

Before on a counter is a petri dish containing smallpox 35687 one of the deadliest diseases known to mankind.

When the dozen mosquito’s reach the lower level Christian immediately notices the human in the laboratory.

They congregate around a small glass panel searching for access but the glass is two inches thick and the walls of the lab are twice the thickness but made from top grade titanium designed to withstand a nuclear blast.

Surely enough to hold up against a strike from a dozen stealth mosquito’s?

Christian spends an hour searching for a way inside but the laboratory is sealed tighter than a gnat’s asshole.

Desperate to gain access to the blood source Christian flies twenty yards back from the small glass panel.

He takes off as fast as a ballistic bullet and slams into the panel.

At first the glass holds firm but after the third attack a small hairline crack appears than when Christian slams into the glass for the 25th time the glass shatters and the twelve thirsty mozzies fly inside.

Dr Gruber has been watching in horror as the metal creature repeatedly slammed into the glass panel but he was confident that it would withstand the attack.

But the mosquito is relentless and when the glass finally shattered Gruber could do nothing to prevent twelve marauders from entering his lab.

All he can hope for is that his protective will do its job and lucky for Gruber it does.

After wasting time and energy for over ten minutes trying to get to the humans blood Christian calls a halt to the attack and the twelve mozzies land on a petri dish to rest and hopefully a drink.

But the petri dish holds no liquid just a shitload of small spores that hold little interest to a blood sucking mosquito so after a brief rest the twelve take to the sky unaware that they have all ingested enough small pox to kill every man woman and child all over northern Europe.

Perhaps enough to wipe out humanity on earth.

THE END

Who will save the day?

Maybe time is up for mankind.

To find out if anyone on this planet will survive past 2019 you will need to come back and read part two if you and I are still alive.

‘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

Goiter

10 Saturday Aug 2019

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

australias got talent, blood, doll, dummy, horror, knife, ventriloquist

I haven’t been feeling quite like myself in the last few weeks.My stomach is bloated and i have been experiencing nights sweats plus i have a strange craving for anchovies on with ice cream.

So i am either pregnant or going through menopause but i am a 35 year old male so i can safely rule out both of these options.

After a weekend of more pain and discomfort i was glad when i woke for work on Monday morning i was feeling like my old self again even though my stomach is distended and sore.

I put on a shirt a few sizes too big ,brush my teeth and head out the door.

But as i open my car door i double over in agony and barely make it back inside.

I frantically try to call 000 but in my panic i cant find my mobile phone so i stumble into my bedroom and collapse on the bed hoping like hell that the pain will pass.

But the pain gets even more intense and i watch in atonishment as the buttons on my shirt pop and my stomach swells like a watermelon.

Than with surprisingly little pain my belly button opens and a baby of sorts enters this world.’Hello my name is Audley Creed are you my daddy?

‘Holy shit’ not only have i given birth but the little fucker can talk’Um hello Audley my name is Bernie Torrence and i suppose i am your daddy.

Audley yawns with indifference and promptly falls asleep.

As my newborn sleeps a thousand questions echo around my brain.

If i wasn’t pregnant than where in the fuck did Audley come from?

How in the hell am i supposed to look after a talking baby?

Plus how can i explain my situation to all my family and friends?

As i ponder these thoughts i am just grateful that Audley didn’t come out through my pee hole because that really would of hurt.

Audley wakes up demanding to be fed’Jesus being a new dad is hard work’

I cradle Audleys head as i carry him into the kitchen where i put a straw into a carton of milk and and put it in his gob.

He suckles greedily for a few minutes before letting loose a huge burp that shakes the rafters.

‘Daddy i know my name is Audley Creed but can you tell me where i actually come from?

I feel sorry for the little tike and i get a little emotional’Audley i wish that i could answer your question but i cant’

‘We were literally joined at the hip so until i work things out we will just have to do the best we can’

But that isn’t good enough for Audley and he continues to ask question after question.

In frustration i go to put him down on the couch and hopefully he will quieten down when i realize that he is stuck.

Audley and i are still literally joined together and whether him or i like the situation he is now permanently a part of me.

Just then my mobile rings and it is Tery Connelly my 2IC at work.

I am the manager at the local supermarket and right now i wish i was at work instead of standing here arguing with an annoying goiter.

‘Hi Terry sorry i didn’t call you but i was in a car accident this morning and i am OK just a bit shaken up but i should be back in a couple of days’

As i tell Terry a load of bullshit to keep him off my back Audley continues to argue and holler in the background.

‘Bernie i thought that you lived by yourself ?is someone with you?

What? Oh no Terry i just have the TV a little too loud’

‘I will call you tomorrow afternoon to let you know when i will be back ,bye’

I have a hand pressed over Audley’s mouth to keep him quiet and i am tempted to leave it there but when his face goes a little green i relent.

‘Listen up Audley and listen good,i am in charge of this household not you so please keep your mouth closed until you learn some manners’

For once in his short life Audley has nothing to say but i can see that he is seething.

His eyes are burning with fire and i feel his anger towards me.

At that moment i remember a movie i saw years ago called ‘Chucky’s Revenge’

It was about a creepy doll that came to life and went on a murderous rampage.

My balls tingle and my throat constricts when i realize that maybe i have my own Chucky on my hands.

There is no way that i can return to work anytime soon so i ring my area manager and tell him that i need to take some long service leave to sort out a family problem.

‘Torrence if you aren’t back at work first thing tomorrow morning don’t bother coming back at all because your services will no longer be required’

Well i don’t take to kindly to threats so i tell the arrogant prick to stick his job where the sun doesn’t shine.

So now i am unemployed with a mortgage to pay plus i am attached to an argumentative growth who thinks that he is Charles in charge.

After a few weeks of bonding and getting to know each other the tension between us lessens and we become kind of close.

But in the back of my mind i can still see the image of Chucky the killer doll .

Even though it is good to be able to sleep in every day i still have bills to pay so i need to get a new job and quick.

But as i browse the job vacancies i come to the conclusion that there isn’t a great demand for a retail manager with a built in special helper.

Then i have a light bulb moment.

Audley might not be suitable for my old profession but he is perfect to become a built in ventriloquist dummy.

All i have to do is convince Audley Creed.

‘I ain’t no dummy you arsehole so go and fuck yourself’

Oh come on Audley all you have to do is say a few words every now and then so we can make some money’

Because remember that if i don’t eat then neither do you’

Audley’s tiny head wrinkles in concentration as he ponders my statenent but when he realizes that he has little choice he reluctantly nods his head.

We practice our routine over and over for days on end until we get it down pat.

Audley is a natural comedian with what i would call a dark sense of humor.

So after a few try outs at some local pubs where me and Audley get a great reception i decide to audition for Australia’s Got Talent.

The audition goes better than i expected so i am excited to say that ‘Torrence & Creed’ will soon be appearing on national television.

I celebrate the occasion with a few friends at my favorite Italian restaurant where i enjoy a huge plate of lasagne with a glass of red.

Audley has his first taste of pasta and seems to be having a good time then the mood turns sour when he annouces’Bernie i think that our act needs a name change’

‘Torrence & Creed just doesn’t sound right i think that we should be known as ‘Audley Creed& Friend because i am obviously the star of the show’

I can’t believe what i am hearing’Why you ungrateful bag of shit,i literally brought you into this world and you have done nothing but bitch and moan ever since’

Now you have the hide to order a name change unbelievable’

If i wasn’t in a public place i probably have strangled the turd there and then.

Instead i order a shot of tequila and slam it down’Get that into you Audley you annoying little puppet’

I stumble to bed around 3 am drunk but still wide awake and i am pleased to say that Audley is looking a little green around the gills.

‘Jesus Bernie how much did you have to drink last night? i feel i shit’

Just a little mexican ju ju juice Audley and if you don’t start behaving yourself i will feed you a lot more and completely fuck you up’

Audley doesn’t reply and i notice that he has fallen asleep so i to succumb to the inevitable and close my eyes.

But i am soon awoken by a excruciating pain in my stomach.

Audley is clutching a huge knife in his grubby little hands and has used it to slice me open and separate his body from mine.

Now he stands on my chest as a ugly little monster then he slides in my blood and wraps his hands around my throat and squeezes’Thanks for everything Bernie but you have lived out your usefulness but now it is time for you to say goodbye’

I am desperately trying to break the stranglehold as the crazy as bat shit little turncoat continues to talk and squeeze the life out of me.

Luckily i manage to grasp a pair of nail clippers from the bed side table as my breath slips away.

I look into Audley Creed’s eyes as he continues to squeeze and ramble on and i know that i only have a moment before he crushes my Adam’s apple.

The clippers are slipping from my grasp but i manage to keep them in my grasp and plunge them into Audley’s right eye.

He screams in agony and curses me in every language known to mankind.

Then he scampers away leaving a trail of blood in his wake.

His blood glistens in the moonlight like a beacon and i am tempted to follow but i haven’t got the strength plus who knows what other weapons the one eyed midget might have at his disposal.

Then another thought enters my head.

Will the little fucker flee or return to finish me off?

To find out come back and read part two.

Because if you don;t then Audley Creed wont be pleased not pleased at all.

THE END

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