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‘A Little Place Called Hell’

23 Friday Oct 2020

Posted by stevenjohnno in stories

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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

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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.

‘The Stairwell ( 2 )’

18 Saturday Jan 2020

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

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

Part One.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Three months later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Part Two.

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

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

Part two

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

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

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

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

Alistair has plans for him but not quite yet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Find his evil mummy and what will be will be.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘OK climb in kid and leave the weather outside;

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sometimes the dead die so the living can keep living.

THE END.

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

The Stairwell

06 Saturday Jul 2019

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

death, england, horror, murder, supernatural, violence

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

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

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

A position that he prefers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Six months later

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

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

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

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

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

Scritch scratch scritch scratch scritch scratch.

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

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

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

Scritch scratch scritch scratch scritch scratch

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

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

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

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

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

Scritch scratch scritch scratch scratch scratch

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How could she have been so mean and stupid?

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

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

‘What in the fuck?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Hello mummy have you missed me?’

THE END

Keep an eye out for part two coming soon

Stories After Midnight

21 Friday Sep 2018

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

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Tags

books, coma, healing, horror, reading, shapeshifting, stephen king

I am running out of money at a rate of knots so I really need to get off my arse and get myself a job.

The bills are piling up and two are way overdue.

But first things first I am also running out of reading material plus I need to return a few books because the last thing I need is for the library police to get on my case.

So I grab my wallet and keys and head out the door.

 

I park my old rust bucket outside my local library and walk into my favourite place on earth.

I could happily wander the aisles for hours taking in the smell of thousands and thousands of books.

But today I am in a hurry so I throw my returns down the chute and walk over to the horror section.

The master of the genre Stephen King has a new novel out and I have been dying to get my hands on a copy for weeks.

So I am pleased to see ‘The Outsider’ sitting on the shelf waiting for me.

I grab it fast before someone beats me to it and make my way to the counter.

But I stop at the community noticeboard first because just maybe my new job is waiting for me as well.

 

But the board is full of notes about missing cats and dogs and different items for sale but then I notice a business card down in the left hand corner.

‘Are you handy on the tools and love to read? Because I have the perfect job for you.

Call Apex Industries today to start an exciting new chapter in your life’

Well of course I love to read but I am about as handy as tits on a bull so I put the card back and head home.

Tomorrow I will go to Centrelink and get myself a job.

 

Once at home I make myself a ham and cheese sandwich and settle down to read the kings latest classic.

Stephen King is known for his huge tomes and ‘The Outsider is no different.

It is as thick as a house brick and just as heavy.

I am soon lost in the story but when I reach page 219 I am surprised to see a business card marking the page.

And I nearly piss my pants when I see that it is the same business card I read at the library.

‘Well this is a bit creepy’ But then I laugh to myself ,obviously there must be more then one card in circulation it is just a coincidence that’s all.

But I still have a funny feeling deep down in my gut.

 

I put the business card on the coffee table and continue my reading until once again my concentration is broken ,this time by my mobile starts to chime.

The screen says PRIVATE NUMBER and I don’t usually answer private callers but maybe it is lotto ringing to tell me that I have won $ 10 million so I answer.

‘Hello am I speaking to Mr Warren Bigelow? ‘Um yes that that’s me’

‘Hi Warren my name is Daphne Pincombe and I am the owner of Apex Industries’

‘I was expecting a call from you today but you must have forgotten ,are you still interested in the position?’

 

I am dumbstruck and lost for words ‘Sorry but I didn’t apply for the position because I am not very handy even though I am a very good reader’

‘That doesn’t matter Warren the tools are very rarely used but I am positive that you are the perfect person to fill the position so can you start tonight say just before midnight?’

‘Um don’t I need to be interviewed first and maybe pass a medical?’

‘Oh no Warren that wont be necessary I know that you are just what I am looking for ,so can I expect you tonight?

And even though my stomach is doing backflips and I mind is in turmoil I find myself answering ‘Of course Mrs Pincombe I will be there’

 

‘What in the fuck just happened? Do I really have a new job?

But than my brain starts to do its job. How did the lady from Apex know my phone number? And how did she know that I had even read the business card?

But I push those thoughts to a small compartment in the back of my mind because I really do need to start earning some money.

So I pick up the business card again and I am pleased to see that Apex Industries are located only a few kilometres away at 219 Riverside Drive Reversby .

 

I am to charged up to sleep so I read for a few hours more have a shower and put on my best clothes then I jump into my car and drive off to start a new career.

And when I arrive at Apex Industries ten minutes later a little old lady is there to greet me Hello Warren I am Daphne and I am pleased to welcome you to Apex Industries’

‘It a very small company in fact you will be my only employee’

We shake hands and I follow my new boss into her office.

 

Mrs Pincombe is about seventy years old with grey hair very steady on her feet and she looks a lot like my own grandmother so I begin to relax.

”I am sorry for the late start Warren but I have found that a lot of my clients respond better to the readings when they are either asleep or when their minds are less active’

‘I have hired you Warren because you have a special talent that you are totally unaware of plus alas I am not getting any younger and I am starting to lose my ability to connect with the clients like I used to so I new a new pupil’

‘So Warren I need you to travel with me every night and heal our clients by the power of the voice and of the touch so that we may heal some damaged minds and souls’

But I warn you Warren that not all minds and souls can be saved some because they are beyond our reach or their minds are pure evil and then Warren I will ask you to end a life before they can do anymore harm to innocent people’

‘So Warren do you want to become my apprentice with the view of one day carrying on my work into the future once my time has come?

 

My head is spinning ,Mrs Pincombe just told me that I am to end a life if the need arises and what is this special talent that I supposedly possess?

So once again I find myself accepting her offer of employment and after signing a few documents I am ready to help Mrs Pincombe in any way that I can.

She smiles with gratitude ‘Thank you Warren you will never regret working for Apex Industries and that is a promise’

She hands me the keys to a shiny white transit van and we drive off into the night.

 

‘Okay Warren head towards Reversby hospital because we have an urgent case to attend to.

A patient there has been in a coma since falling off a horse ten years ago when she was ten years old but the doctors have informed her family that her condition is deteriorating fast so this will be your only chance to save her life’

‘I am sorry to throw you into the deep end Warren but there is no choice in the matter because if we cant save Rachel the world will be a lot worse off because Rachel was destined to become a leading scientist in finding a cure for cancer’

 

We arrive at the hospital and Mrs Pincombe opens the rear doors and I am astonished to find it for of books and magazine plus a small toolbox.

Mrs Pincombe noticing my looks laughs ‘Don’t worry Warren for this job no tools will be required’

It is now almost 1 am and the hospital is closed down for the night and as we approach the front door I notice two guards ‘Mrs Pincombe there is no way that they will let us in at this time at night’

‘Don’t worry Warren it has all been taken care of ‘ So when we reach the doors they slide open and we walk right past the guards without being noticed ‘What the fuck are we invisible? ‘Come on Warren Rachel is fading fast we have to hurry’

 

In room 110 Rachel Smith looks to be sleeping peacefully but Mrs Pincombe assures me that Rachel want see another day if we don’t act soon so she hands me a kids book titled ‘Black Beauty’ and tells me to start reading the book into Rachels ear.

Rachel used to love horses with a passion so hopefully you can awaken her mind and give back to her family’

I have been reading to Rachel for over six months now but with no effect and the doctors have done all they can for her so Warren now it is up to you’

 

I take a seat next to Rachel and start to read ‘Black Beauty’ while Mrs Pincombe paces around the room nervously.

But I cant see the sense in what I am doing ,how can reading a book save a life? But I read that book with everything that I have for over an hour with little success .

But then the room starts to start on different shapes and colours and I find myself in a field with a horse chewing on some grass.

‘That is Rachels horse Roscoe he has been put out to pasture since Rachels accident and he to needs to see her again so use your special talent Warren and reunite Rachel with her family and her horse’

 

What changing the shape and scenery of the room isn’t a special talent?

‘I don’t know what to do Mrs Pincombe what is my special talent?

‘I cant tell you Warren because I don’t know ,you will have to figure it out for yourself but be quick Warren there isn’t much time left’

 

Without thinking I stand in the middle of the room and hold both of my arms out straight.

I aim my fingers at Rachel’s head and blue sparks fly from the tips and strike Rachel over and over and her arms and legs flail as her head is impacted.

All of my strength has been spent so I sit next to Rachel and squeeze her hand and I feel her respond to my touch as her hand squeezes mine.

Then Rachel opens her eyes ‘Can I have a drink of water please? “Sure Rachel here you go’

As I put a cup to Rachels lips Mrs Pincombe  presses the buzzer to summon the nurses ‘We need to leave now Warren our job here is done’

 

Back in the van I am floating with euphoria ‘Well done Warren you passed your first assignment with flying colours ,no pun intended’

I cant answer because I am still recovering from the ordeal but I manage a smile and Mrs Pincombe drives the van back to Apex Industries.

 

Over the following six months or so Mrs Pincombe and I travel in the van visiting people who need saving.

Sometimes I needed to open the toolbox and use a screwdriver or a hammer to enter a home unobserved but usually we entered by stealth alone.

Some clients responded to my reading their favourite book while others needed the whole treatment.

After another successful evening I asked Mrs Pincombe how she decided who to save and who couldn’t be saved

‘It isn’t up to me Warren I am just an ordinary citizen’ I try to say that she is anything but an ordinary citizen but she waves me off.

The decisions come from a higher power that visits me in my dreams and nightmares and when I wake all the information I need is etched deep in my brain.

 

Just before Christmas I am having a snooze in the afternoon when my phone rings ‘Warren I need you here at the office straightaway I had a visit in a nightmare last night and the news isn’t good so get here as soon as you can and I will fill you in’

I arrive at Apex Industries to find Mrs Pincombe in distress she is looking old and haggard ‘I am sorry for my appearance Warren but all of the visits to my mind over the years has finally taken its toll’

‘And the visit last night has left me with nothing left to give so on this job Warren you will be flying solo’

‘There is a predator on the loose and he is about enter our lives now hold my hand and I will tell you all about this evil piece of shit’

 

I listen intently as Mrs Pincombe whispers and tells me all about a serial rapist named Cedric Otis.

And as I listen my blood begins to boil ‘Mrs Pincombe maybe we should call the police and let them handle it’

‘ Warren you didn’t let me finish it is too late to involve the police because Cedric Otis has passed over to the other side but his evil spirit lives on’

Mrs Pincombe cant talk no more and collapses into a chair.

I have no time to lose so I call 000 and run out to the work van.

And this time I will need the toolbox.

 

Will I catch Cedric Otis evil spirit in time or will he create havoc all over Sydney town?

To find out the answer you will have to come back and read part two

 

THE END

Snowman

10 Friday Aug 2018

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

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Tags

blood, carnage, horror, murder, snow, snowman, thredbo

It is a bright sunny day on the snowfields in Thredbo New South Wales and twenty eight year old Macy Wellings is enjoying her vacation away from the hustle and bustle of Sydney.

Macy first saw snow when she was six years old on a family holiday and from the start Macy was a natural skier.

She took to skiing like a duck to water and now twenty years later she is back doing what she loves

But her stomach is grumbling so Macy navigates her way through the tourists towards her motel room.

 

Entering her room Macy is glad that it is hot and toasty the sun might be shining but it is still bloody cold.

After kicking off her boots she makes herself a coffee and ponders whether to stay in her room or go downstairs to the bar.

She cant make up her mind so she runs herself a bath to think it over and while she waits for the water to fill Macy goes out onto the patio to smoke a cigarette

She lights up and takes in the view and is surprised to see a snowman standing in the middle of the carpark three floors below.

‘What a strange place to build a snowman’ Macy takes a last drag and flicks the butt out into the night then she goes back inside for a long soak.

 

Down in the carpark the snowman takes a few steps forward and extinguishes the cigarette and with a murderous glance up to the third floor he is ready to get down to business.

 

As Macy relaxes in the hot suds she decides that she will go downstairs who knows maybe Mr Right is down there waiting for her.

She is heading home tomorrow so she might as well have some fun on her last night.

But as she dries off with a fluffy towel Macy thinks about the snowman in the carpark.

There was something about that snowman that made her skin crawl but Macy tells herself that she is being stupid so she gets dressed and turns off the bathroom

 

But when she enters the living room Macy stops dead in her tracks and starts to tremble in fright.

The living room carpet is covered in huge wet footprints going from one room to another.

Macy steps back into the bathroom in shock maybe if she can make it to the door she can run down to reception and have them call the police.

But before Macy has another thought she is grabbed from behind and dragged into the shower recess.

Macy tries desperately to escape the clutches of her attacker but she feels herself losing strength fast.

She catches a glance of her attacker in the bathroom mirror and isn’t surprised when she sees a snowman choking the life out of her ‘But how can it be it is a snowman for fucks sake’

 

The snowman’s hunger is so strong so he doesn’t wait for his victim to die.

He starts to feed on Macy’s flesh and bone and soon there is nothing left except for a few toenails and some shattered teeth.

Then the snowman melts down into the drainpipe taking his meal with him.

 

At 11am o’clock the next morning the manager of the Thredbo Motel is getting annoyed the guest in room 308 was supposed to check out at 9 am but so far she is a no show don’t these people realise I have a schedule to keep.

She has rung room 308 six times already but the calls have all gone unanswered so Mrs Carruthers presses a bell on the counter and a bellboy wanders over.

‘Mr Jenkins please go up to room 308 and see if you can wake up Mrs Wellings she was supposed to check out this morning but she isn’t answering the phone,if there are any problems let me know right away’

Eighteen year old Jake Jenkins or JJ to his friends is pissed off it is Saturday morning and he would rather be hanging with his mates instead he is suck at work ‘OK Mrs Carruthers I will ring if there is a problem’

 

Jake rides the lift to the third floor and knocks on the door to 308 but gets no reply.

It isn’t the first time a guest has overslept so he knocks a little louder but still there is no answer.

Using the house key Jake enters room 308 ‘Hello Mrs Wellings it is past your check out time’ Jake goes from room to room but there is no sign of Mrs Wellins.

Then Jake notices the wet footprints all over the carpet ‘What the fuck?’ He knows that he should call the old dragon and let her know about the footprints and that there is no sign of Mrs Wellings ,but he doesn’t want to look like a wuss so he decides to have another look around.

There is luggage in the bedroom and dishes in the sink but Jake doesn’t like the look of those footprints they are too big to come from a human so now he is scared and doesn’t care if he looks like a wimp.

He walks toward the phone on the wall near the front door then he hears a noise coming from the bathroom

Jake knows that he should get the fuck out of there but he enters the bathroom and notices blood on the tiles in the shower

He has a closer look and almost throws up when he sees what appear to be toe nails and some bloody teeth.

Then Jake hears a noise coming from down in the drain,Jake feels his bowels loosen as he listens to what sounds like an animal chewing on a big bone.

He rushes over to the toilet drops his pants and releases a torrent of shit that calms his bowel but does nothing to calm his nerves.

 

The noise from the drain in the shower is getting louder but this time the sound is a growl and it is getting closer.

Jake yelps and runs towards the bathroom door with his trousers still around his ankles but he doesn’t get far before he feels an icy hand grip his ankle

He has a quick look behind him and screams to the heavens when he sees a snowman emerging from the drain

Jakes screams intensify as he feels the snowman chewing on his leg but soon quieten to a whimper as he is quickly eaten alive

But mercifully Jake dies before his remains are pulled down into the drain to be consumed at the snowman’s leisure.

 

Down stairs at reception Mrs Carruthers is getting worried there is no answer from room 308 and she hasn’t heard a peep from Mrs Wellings or Jake who even though he is young he is a good employee with a lot of common sense so Mrs Carruthers knows she can’t wait any longer.

So she picks up the phone and calls the police.

 

Twenty minutes later a couple of uniformed cops turn up to investigate and Mrs Carruthers explains the situation.

The policemen take the lift to room 308 and are surprised to find the door wide so they are immediately on their guard

They notice the footprints then they are hit by the stench coming from the bathroom and go to investigate.

The shower recess and tiles are covered in blood and pieces of flesh and bone it looks like a vicious crime scene but there is no signs of a body.

 

Constable Hughes stands guard on the door to 308 and calls dispatch to report two missing people possibly murdered and the grisly crime scene.

While Constable Coverdale goes downstairs to have the motel closed so no one can come or go.

 

Detectives Wagnells and Funk arrive and go straight up to room 308 where Constable Hughes is waiting.

They notice the footprints in the carpet as they make their way to the bathroom where the alleged crime scene is located.

Even these two seasoned Detectives are shocked by what they see,the bathroom and especially the shower recess is covered in blood and human flesh but as the Constables reported there are no bodies.

Detective Funk bends down for a closer look and notices that the drain cover is a little bent out of shape plus there are what appear to be human toenails and teeth on the shower floor.

He hears a noise down below in the sewers and puts his ear over the grate and hears what sounds like an animal chewing on a bone and sucking out the marrow.

‘What in the fuck is that?’ Detective Funk knows that he has to close down Thredbo before the shit really hits the fan.

 

Six year old Kimberly Frazer is oblivious to all the police activity at the Thredbo Motel only two hundred metres away.

She is playing in the snow with her three year old brother Ben while their parents ski nearby.

Then Kimberly sees a snowman only ten feet away Kimberly frowns because she is positive that the snowman wasn’t there a minute ago so where did it come from?

But she also notices that it has a piece of licorice for a mouth and Kimberly loves licorice so she walks closer to grab that licorice before her brother does.

As she reaches out her hand is grabbed by the snowman and before Kimberly can scream she is swallowed down whole.

Then the snowman and his meal melt down into the snow leaving behind nothing but a little snow boot and a tiny patch of blood.

 

Little Ben screamed in terror and his parents rush over .

Ben points to the patch of blood in the snow and whispers ‘snowman took Kimberly’

Mrs Frazer screams in horror and starts to dig in the snow hoping to find her daughter but Kimberly is long gone.

But parents scream out to Kimberly and soon a crowd gathers to see what is happening.

And that is when the worst massacre in Australian history occurs

 

One hundred and twenty five people have gathered to search for little Kimberly unawares that they are about to die a horrible death.

All around them Snowmen sprout up like Mushrooms and converge on the people in a feeding frenzy.

They are all ripped to shreds and devoured on the spot.

 

In room 308 Detectives Wagnells and Funk race out onto the patio and witness a carnage that will haunt them forever.

They watch as people are murdered before their eyes by what appear to be snowmen.

Both Detective finally kick into gear race downstairs but they know that by the time they reach the site of the massacre it will be way too late to stop the carnage.

 

Their is complete panic on the slopes as people run to escape the murderous snowmen.

They stampede down the mountain in their panic blocking the way of the Detectives who when they finally arrive discover nothing but patches of blood and gristle with not a snowman in sight.

 

I am writing this story ten years after the Thredbo massacre occurred on 10 August 2008 and to this day no bodies of the victims have been located despite intensive searches.

And so the legend of the killer snowmen lives on.

 

 

 

 

THE END

Threads ( Clothes That Kill )

06 Saturday May 2017

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

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Tags

crystal ball, horror, little black dress, markets

On the third Sunday of every month.

My local rotary club holds markets to help the community.

So come on down and have a look around.

Something will surely catch your eye.

 

There is a new stall holder this year.

He has set up his wares right out the back.

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

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

He sells clothes that are trendy funky and current.

A real killer.

 

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

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

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

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

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

But Albion Lestrange is a completely different kettle of fish.

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

 

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

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

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

Like a human spider with an invisible web.

 

Kim Watkins is feeling a little bit down.

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

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

She is also hoping to find something at the markets.

A pair of ear rings would be nice.

But what she really wants is a little black dress.

 

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

And he isn’t in a very good mood.

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

approach.

 

He is thinking about packing up and hitting the road.

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

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

And he knows exactly what she wants to buy.

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

He puts a reptilian smile on his face and waits.

 

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

Than she notices a van parked way out the back.

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

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

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

This must be her lucky day.

 

Albion Lestrange stands up when the girl reaches his stall.

And asks her what is she looking for?

Even though he already knows.

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

 

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

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

She hands over the money and gets out of there.

 

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

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

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

Now she can go to the school dance.

 

Albion Lestrange has no need to follow the girl.

He knows exactly where she lives.

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

He will steal her very existence.

 

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

on her death bed.

She beckoned Albion forward and blessed him with Holy water.

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

She told Albion that the crystal ball was now his.

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

 

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

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

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

 

But as always Albion is beginning to show his age.

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

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

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

He sees visions of multi coloured threads.

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

 

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

threads that could be woven together to kill.

He could kill without leaving a thread of evidence behind.

 

Albion is almost spent.

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

He is now nothing more than skin and bone.

But at that moment his crystal ball begins to glow.

Albion drags himself over to it and smiles with glee.

 

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

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

And she does.

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

 

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

She cant wait to try the sweater on.

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

It is like it was made for her.

 

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

And when she looks into the mirror once more.

Their eyes meet.

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

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

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

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

 

Albion places his mouth onto his crystal ball.

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

And it gives him a new lease on life.

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

 

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

And still she hasn’t tried it on.

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

He needs fresh blood and he needs it now.

Once again he gazes into his crystal ball.

 

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

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

black dress into her closet without trying it on.

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

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

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

 

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

And she finds herself pulling on her once favourite dress.

Then boarding a bus to the other side of town.

 

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

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

And beckons her inside.

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

 

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

 

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

And is surprised to see that she is still breathing.

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

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

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

 

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

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

Where it shatters into a thousand pieces.

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

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

Where they lay mouth to mouth.

 

Albion’s body starts to break down and decompose.

His skin splits and his internal organs start to rot.

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

 

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

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

like a burial shroud.

 

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

And she is in luck.

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

 

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

And she cant get out of the house fast enough.

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

into her shoe.

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

 

 

THE END

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