‘Creeping Crawley’

25 Saturday Sep 2021

Tags

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A strangled cry from above answers her question.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Will the Quinton’s survive their ordeal?

Will Graham be able to call for help?

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

‘ Camel Toe Joe ‘( Part Two )

27 Saturday Mar 2021

Posted by stevenjohnno in Uncategorized

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Tags

camel, camel toe, desert, gold, murder

In the first installment i introduced you to a runaway child who had ambitions of becoming a famous bushranger.

Young Joseph Markham left the family home in Ballarat Victoria in the dead of the night.

Aged fifteen Joe is about to leave a huge impression in Australian history he just doesn’t know it yet.

He borrowed his fathers horse and rode the short distance from Ballarat to Bendigo arriving on the morning of 23rd of July 1846 and got a job loading wagons at the local general store.

His boss Mr Clarence Denning thought the world of Joe and treated him like the son he never had.

Joe worked at the store for just on three years and everything was going well and Joe actually thought about settling down living a quiet life but that all changed in May 1849 when when a posse of wild horsemen rode into town.

The riders yelled and hollered all the way down main street, Joe didn’t know what all the noise was about until he heard the words GOLD GOLD GOLD.

The precious metal was dug from the ground on 10th May and from that moment the nations wealth grew and Joe’s life changed forever.

A week later an old Chinese man named Huong Long galloped into town on a camel who for some reason took an instant dislike to Joe.

The feelings were mutual and Joe taunted the beast endlessly until while he was chatting to Mr Long the camel delivered a kick to Joe’s chin leaving behind a three inch long tender gash that would become the amateur bushranger’s soul patch.

The wound required twenty stitches and continuously wept, Joe would rub the spot continuously seeking respite from an itch that would never go away.

When the Chinaman finished his business in town Joe offered to tag along on the return trip to the goldfields.

Mr Luong was happy to have the company but he warned Joe to stay away from his camel or he would be left behind plus another kick to the head could be fatal.

Joe promised to be on his best behavior and for the most part he was true to his word.

Along the way Mr Long confided in Joe telling him how an evil man named Percy Carruthers stole his mining permit forcing him and his fifteen year old daughter Knut Fu to work in his mansion on the edge of the fields.

Carruthers ruled with an iron fist forcing the miners to pay him 10% of all the gold that they dug from the ground under the blazing desert sun.

Joe was boiling with rage when the party of three reached the goldfields but he got to met the elegant Knut Fu and it was she who christened Joe with what would become a famous moniker when her father told her how his travel companion got his chin wound.

Squirming with laughter the daughter pointed at Joe ‘You “Camel Toe Joe” and a legend was born.

While Mr Long was unpacking the camel Carruthers made an appearance ordering the Chinaman and his daughter to return to his house and prepare his midday meal then he turned his dead eyes in Joe’s direction demanding to know who he was ‘My name is Joseph Markham and i am here to help Mr Long out of his predicament, if you return his mining permit and let them go about staking a claim like everyone else than i will turn the other cheek but if you fail to do so i will be forced to bring you down good and proper’

Carruthers stands 6′ 3″ inches and weighs over 13 stone and he doesn’t take kindly to young whipper snappers voicing their opinion ‘Well Joseph let me tell i am the sole authority around these parts no you now go away before i throw you in the stockade to learn some manners’

As the stand over merchant delivers his sermon a dozen of his henchmen step forward and surround Joe but he shows no fear in fact he spits in Carruthers direction’ You and your flunkies don’t scare me Carruthers, mark my words you are a dead man walking so saddle up and disappear before i put you out of your misery’

Carruther’s face turns beet red ‘ Throw him in the stockade and throw away the key, lets see how long he lasts without food or water’

50 yards away the camel has been watching proceedings unobserved, with an angry snort he trots away into the undergrowth.

CHAPTER TWO

After cooling his heels in the brig for a few hours Joe is mighty thirsty, thankfully the temperature has dropped but it is still stifling in his tiny cell.

‘Please if you send me an angel to help me escape from this hell hole i promise to behave myself and become a better man’

Joe’s nostrils twitch when a nasty smell wafts in through the bars of his cell window maybe a ‘roo or wombat has perished in the heat, taking a gander out into the night he is surprised to see a long lashed animal looking back at him.

‘Jesus haven’t you heard about bathing in a little water now and then? You smell like a quoll has crawled up your arse and died’

Sighing in frustration the camel sidles sideways revealing a coil of rope slung over one of his humps ‘ Holy shit you are one smart camel aren’t you? Come closer so i can tie an end to the bars and then pull with all your strength so i can get the fuck out of here’

‘Oh and by the way i sorry about my wise arse remark about your personal hygiene and i probably deserved your toe kick to my face but if you bust me out of here i promise to buy you a big cake of soap and all the food you can eat, so what do ya say mate?’

The camel doesn’t reply he just snorts in disgust but lets Joe uncoil the rope in preparation of a jailbreak.

Joe suspects that Mr Long and his daughter had a hand in suppling the rope and he is grateful to them, even though he has never tied a knot before Joe ties the knot securely around a bar and gestures to the camel that he is ready.

As the camel gets into position Joe strokes the small cleft on his chin, the wound id still tender and tingles as Joe as keeps a wary eye out for any guards who might foil his escape.

The camel digs in his back feet in the dirt to gain traction then the beast slowly walks forward, the bars buckle and with a snap they are ripped from the window frame, joe climbs out and lands on the frame of metal bars and the camel takes fast into the desert while behind him Joe hangs on for grim death.

A shot rings out narrowly missing Joe who loses his hold on the metal toboggin and falls off leaving him open for the guards to take another shot.

The camel is tempted to leave the annoying little shit behind but he is loyal to his master Mr Long so he doubles back and squats down onto the ground and Joe wastes no time jumping on, clinging to a hump the pair of desperado’s disappear into the night under a barrage of bullets.

For three days they stay at an old abandoned copper mine ten miles out of town and whilst boy and camel recuperate they form an unlikely friendship.

When the sun rises on a fourth day Joe to eager to sneak back to the goldfields and free Mr Long and Knut Fu from the tyranny of Carruthers plus the miners deserve to be able to dig for their livelihoods without having to hand over the gold they toiled to dig from the dirt to a brute and his henchmen.

As they travel back to the fields realizes that he has to call the camel something ‘Hey how about i give you a name to make Mr Long proud?’

Getting no reply Joe continues on ‘What about Mildred now that is a good name, you look like a Mildred to me’

The camel rolls his eyes in contempt ‘Okay so you don’t like Mildred what about Clarence?

Raising his front right leg the camel wriggles his toes signaling to Joe that he better come up with a better alternative or he will receive another kick’ Joe rubs in the furrow on his chin ‘Ok calm down i was only joking;

‘Wait i have it , what about Archibald? From now on you will be forever known as Sir Archibald Camelus, what do you think?

The dromedary paces back and forth considering the title bestowed upon him ‘Come on make a decision because we need to get back and rescue Huong Long and Knut Fu’

The camel smiles and squats so Joe can climb aboard’ Sir Archibald it is then, now hot foot it so we can return the goldfields to the miners and put Carruthers six foot under where he belongs’.

Ten miles away the two guards who fell asleep after drinking a bottle of rum allowing Joseph Markham to escape custody swing silently in the breeze.

They were hanged at first light the morning after the escape on the orders of Carruthers and now their bodies are on display reminding everyone on the goldfields what will happen to them if they to even think about deceiving the mine overlord.

From the balcony of his huge house on the edge of the fields Carruthers points to the bodies of twenty two year old Peter James and Samuel Jacobs a eighteen year old father of two as he begins an address to the 800 or so miners gathered around the diggings’ Disobey me at your own peril now get back to work before i skin you all alive’

The miners quickly disperse but an under current of resentment ripples through their ranks, it is now only a matter of time before they fight back and thankfully a bushranger in the making is about to offer a helping hand.

Inside the mansion Huong Long and Knut Fu clean and polish every surface they are now nothing more then slaves. Huong is tempted to rush forward and shove Carruthers over the balcony to the mob below but he hasn’t got the courage.

All he can do is hope that Joseph will return soon and help them return to a normal life away from the boss man and his evil ways.

One yards away Joe and Sie Archibald peer over the crest of a sand dune to see if the coast is clear, Joe rubs the cleft on his chin with worry and sorrow, his weary eyes moisten at the sight of two innocents who were hanged all to appease the ego of the evil overload Carruthers.

Joe realizes that he wont be able to bring down Carruthers by himself, if peace is to exist on the goldfields he will need to enlist help from the miners and together they will organize an uprising never seen in Victoria.

Skirting the edge of the encampment Joe Joe sidles up to a group of around twenty miners having morning tea ‘G day i don’t know if you blokes have heard the news? On the other side of the fields there is a lot of talk that Carruthers is planning on increasing the levy that he illegally takes from all the miners, it is an outrage, why should that prick be profiting from all your hard work ?’

‘He needs to be eliminated before he can inflict anymore pain and misery on you and your families, we need to stand united as one and bring justice to the goldfields, spread the word.’

The miners begin to talk amongst themselves and Joe strides away satisfied that he has planted a seed, hopefully the seed will germinate and when it does the proverbial will stick nourishing Joe’s masterplan.

For two days Joe mingles unobserved with the miners whispering in the ear of anyone who will listen and a rumbling of discontent soon grows in intensity threatening to explode like a powder keg.

As he patrols the fields high up in the saddle of his stallion Carruthers can smell and almost taste the tension in the air, he is surrounded by six of his best men and he warns them to keep and eye out for trouble his manager an ugly Irish brute named Shamus O’ Dwyer riding beside his boss is nervous but puts up a brave front.

‘I need to attend to some business down near Darling Creek Shamus, if the miners cause any trouble shot to kill’

With those cowardly words Carruthers high tails it back to his mansion leaving his underlings in mortal danger.

At the mansion Mr Long is in the kitchen cooking whilst his 18 year old daughter Knut Fu is busy wiping every surface clean under the watchful eye of the housekeeper Molly Taylor a 36 year old woman from Boston who arrived in Australia three months prior chasing her dream of striking it rich but she soon found herself completely out of her depth.

The heat and the flies took a huge toll on her health and sanity and her skin blistered under the blazing sun but lucky for her she was rescued by her boss and given shelter and a job.

She knows that Mr Carruthers is a despised figure around these parts but he has always been kind to her but lately his mood has darkened so Molly has kept out of his way waiting for normality to return.

She shrieks in fright on hearing the front door slam and on seeing he look on his face she knows that something awful is troubling her boss and instead of fleeing she immediately takes charge and leads him down the stairs into the cellar until the danger passes.

‘Molly the danger as you call it isn’t going to go away, soon eight hundred plus angry miners are going to storm this place and try to kill me, they will probably burn the house to the ground so stay done here with me Molly and with any luck we can hide and live to fight another day.’

Molly isn’t keen staying down in the dank cellar but when she hears the mob outside start ramming the door she has second thoughts.

Mr Long notices Carruthers followed by his housekeeper sneak down the stairs to escape being lynches so he rushes over to the door to let the marauding mob inside so they can bring Carruthers to justice.

Outside Camel Toe is doing his best to calm the situation but he getting drowned out by hundreds of angry miners carrying rifles and axes intent on finding the deceiving mine boss and tearing him limb from limb ‘Listen i know that you are angry and wish to kill Carruthers but if you do that than none of you will ever see one single cent of the money that he stole from you so settle down, i will go inside and bring the arsehole out here and he can tell you where the money is then i will personally drag his sorry arse down to Melbourne where he will be charged with murder and extortion’

Most of the miners calm down but some are still out for blood ‘Why should we trust you with our gold, for all i know you could be in cohorts with Carruthers, i say say we storm the place and take what is ours and hang the mongrel from the nearest tree”

I guarantee you that i am on your side so how about if five or six of you go inside with me because if you rush inside like chooks with their heads cut there is bound to be casualties and that is the last thing we want to happen’.

The angry miner who spoke thinks for a second before nodding his head in agreement ‘Okay you have a deal i will go in with you, my name is Nathan Miller by the way’ he scans the mob then points at individuals ‘Jones, Smith, Johnson and um Banes at the back, lets go inside and catch the prick and find our gold.’

Despite being rammed repeatedly the front door stands firm so you motions for Sir Archibald to come over and deliver a swift kick and having first hand experience of the viciousness of a camel kick Joe stands clear but in the end a kick isn’t needed because with a squeak the door opens and a tiny Chinaman pokes his head out ‘Come quick, Carruthers has gone down to the cellar’

Down in the cellar Molly can’t take in what she is seeing, fifty or so sacks of gold nuggets take up most of the floor space ‘Now i know why you wanted to come down here you slimy bastard, you do realize that any minute no hundreds of angry miners are going to storm down here so hoarding all this gold that you stole from the miners has all been a monumental of of time, if i had a gun i would put a bullet in your head and be done with it’

‘Molly Molly Molly, i hear what you are saying but there is a lot more gold out there in this great state of ours and i do admit that it will be a shame to leave these sacks of gold behind but right now we need to leave before they catch us and God knows what the mob will do to us.’

There is no us or we Carruther’s this is all your doing not mine so be a man for once in your life and walk up the stairs and take your medicine.’

Shaking his head in disappointment Carruthers sprints over to a corner of the cellar than like a magician he disappears behind a partition.

Molly begins to investigate but then the door to the cellar shatters and seven angry men rush down the stairs but soon stop dead in their tracks when they notice the sacks of gold.

‘Eureka’ Miller hollers with joy’ Okay fella’s help me carry these sacks upstairs Joe can find Carruthers’

Camel Joe shakes his head in wonder, how can Miller be so stupid?’

‘Miller those sacks must weigh half a ton each, you and your mates guard the gold and later each and every miner can come down here and claim what is rightfully theirs but now has anyone seen Carruthers?’

Molly is growing frustrated because while the miners had eyes for the gold it gave Carruthers precious minutes to escape further into the bush.

Joe finally notices Molly motioning to him ‘About bloody time, Carruthers went that way’ the housekeeper jabs in the direction of the partition.

Knowing that Carruthers could be armed and dangerous Joe warily peaks around the partition and is astounded to see a tunnel with a train tracks going out the desert hundreds of yards in the distance.

Carruthers must have used some sort of pump trolley to make his escape but Camel Toe isn’t that worried, tomorrow Carruthers will be brought to justice.

Outside Shamus O’ Seamus and a dozen other of Carruthers henchmen watch proceedings with interest, O’ Seamus knows that there is a shitload of gold in that mansion and he aims to take it before the miners claim it back.

Carruthers has more than likely escapes otherwise he would have been brought outside by now, smiling like a cat that swallowed the cream the killer realizes that with Carruthers gone he will soon be a very rich man.

Sitting in the shade outside the big house MR Long and his daughter Knut Fu talk happily because now they are free to do as they please without threat of harm.

Sir Archibald stands beside them chewing on his cud surveying the countryside, he knows that the evil man is out there somewhere it is only a matter of time arsehole you will be caught.

Joe joins his friend and together the odd pair gaze out on the endless miles of orange dust ‘Tomorrow Carruthers tomorrow you are mine’

THE END

Part three coming soon.

‘A Little Place Called Hell’

23 Friday Oct 2020

Posted by stevenjohnno in stories

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Tags

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

WELCOME TO HELL

BURN WITH ME ALISON

THE DEVIL.

Pop – Too many to mention.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Wake up you evil fucking bitch’

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

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

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

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

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

But first why not have a little fun?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

This time Brathwaite avoids eye contact but the stroking intensifies’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THE END.

‘Roadkill ( Mantlepiece of Death ) 2.

22 Saturday Aug 2020

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

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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.

Roadkill ( Mantle Piece of Death )

11 Saturday Apr 2020

Posted by stevenjohnno in stories

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THE END.

Mister Transistor.

29 Saturday Feb 2020

Posted by stevenjohnno in stories

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

china, corona virus, murder, serial killer, the united states, treason, trump

Plop plop plop plop plop plop.’What in the fuck is that noise?’ an angry figure mutters when he is awoken from a restless slumber.

Opening a weary eye he is astounded to see what appears to be a dead man strapped to a chair in a bathroom a mere ten foot away.

The source of the sound is the victims blood dripping onto the tiles before running down the drain.

After pinching himself to make sure that he is actually awake and not dreaming the figure jumps out of bed and approaches the man careful not to step in the blood.

After checking that the man is actually deceased the figure suddenly realises that the killer could still be in the room but after a quick search he finds that he is alone in the room.

Except for the bloodied dead man strapped to a chair that is.

The figure goes over to the bathroom sink to wash the dead mans blood from his hands when he notices that his finger nails are caked with dried blood and the front of his shirt is smeared.

Plop plop plop plop plop plop.

The killer knows that he needs to get the fuck out of this place so he gathers his few belongings and walks over to the front door to see if anybody is hanging about but a tinny voice in his ear stops him in his tracks “I trust that you have taken care of business agent omega?’

‘Leave the scene immediately and don’t worry about leaving any of your DNA behind because a cleaning crew will arrive shortly and remove any evidence of you ever being in that room’

‘But remember agent omega that if you ever feel the urge to betray me or my organization the transistor that I had implanted in your skull will explode causing instant death’

‘You have done your nation a tremendous service today agent omega, General Holtsteader signing out.’

Agent omega leaves the motel room in a flurry hoping to escape from the voice in his head and to find out who he is, why he killed a man with his own hands.

As he trudges down the street trying to get his bearing he rubs his hands over his head to locate the transistor but the search proves fruitless’

Omega knows that he needs to find General Holtsteader and bring him down and have the implanted device removed.

‘Excuse me but are you alright?’

Omega stops at the sound of the voice and finds himself looking at a women around 30 years of age looking at him quizzically.

‘Sorry I am having a bit of a brain fade could you tell me exactly where I am”

‘Sure, you are on 43rd street heading toward Lincoln Plaza’

‘Um yeah but what city are we talking about?’

‘Why the windy city of course, Chicago Illinois’

Omega thanks the lady and slinks away to find somewhere to gather his thoughts and grab a bite to eat.

The lady watches her target disappear around than she follows at a safe distance because she knows what he is capable of.

It was no accident that she happened to run into Kevin Wayne Goodman killer , assassin, call him what you will but he would kill anybody if the price was right.

With a quick to make sure that no one noticed the exchange with omega Agent Irena Goblinsky sets off after the man who could either kill her in a heartbeat or help her stop a global meltdown.

Omega finds a café and takes a seat facing the door.

He orders a couple of bagels and a coffee than realises that he has no idea whether he has any money to pay for his brunch.

After a quick search of his pockets he finds $10,000 in his coat, undoubtedly supplied by the mysterious General Holtsteader.

And to his surprise he also locates a cell phone which to his frustration is ‘locked’ and therefore useless.

The cute waitress places his food in front of him and for a while Omega forgets about his troubles and he digs in with relish.

‘Why fancy seeing you again, do you mind sharing a table?’

Omega looks over at least seven empty tables but he gestures for the lady who helped him to take a seat.

The Russian agent is afraid and anxious because even though Omega might look like Jason Bourne but in a lot of ways he is more like Hannibal Lector.

‘Sorry to intrude on your meal but this is my favorite café in Chicago and I really need a caffeine fix.’

They talk about the weather, baseball, just making small talk like two complete strangers do.

Agent Goblinsky is just about to get down to the real reason she is in Chicago when she notices a glazed expression on the killers face.

‘Agent Omega the person you are talking to is a Russian spy terminate her immediately by any means available she is a danger to the security of our nation’

‘Once you have done your duty make your way to O’Hare airport where one of my men will meet you and take you to safety’

Without warning Omega lunges forward and seizes Goblinsky by the head and repeatedly slams it onto the table, fortunately the waitress and after staff members intervene.

Seeing that he is outnumbered Omega runs from the establishment where he soon gets lost in the in the morning rush.

Goblinsky is bleeding profusely from a dozen cuts and will probably have a nasty headache for a week but she is a trained agent with a mission to complete so she shrugs off the concern of the bystanders and she to enters the street of pain bloody but determined.

In his bunker just outside of New York City General Holtsteader gathers his loyal soldiers around ‘Listen up people the fucking Russians have somehow cottoned on to my plan to overthrow the government and install a communist system because democracy has run its course and the change is coming people are you behind me?’

Holtsteader’s chest puffs out with proud as the twenty renegades applaud and cheer their leader.

Amongst them is a young Chinese American named Lee Wang who if things go as planned will soon turn the world on its axis.

Sitting in the back of the bunker silently watching proceedings Glenn Blackhawk a native American from Idaho is growing increasingly concerned with the General’s radical views.

The last thing America needs is a communist government so he needs to stop Holtsteader before anarchy rules.

He and Agent Omega were friends back in the academy when they were both greenhorns with a passion of ridding America of drugs, violence and the need to stop Americans from murdering their fellow Americans with firearms of every description.

Unfortunately Omega went bad and committed the ultimate crime many times over and paid the price having spent over eight years in jail but now he is back on the streets under the control of the General.

If there is one man to stop the General it is Omega so Blackhawk creeps over to the computer showing the live feed from the transistor in Omega’s head.

If he can only he could talk to Omega and let him know that he has a friend waiting in the wings to help eliminate the General before he can do irreparable harm.

Blackhawk needs to find a way to clear the bunker but all he can do at the moment is sabotage the live feed so Omega is invisible to the eyes of the General free to save America from itself.

Agent Omega is sitting in the back of a cab on the way to the airport not knowing if he killed the Russian or not.

He is surprised that General Holtsteader hasn’t been in touch and that is one thing to be glad of because the silence is golden.

Omega uses the silence to think in peace and it suddenly dawns on him that he needs to have the transistor removed so he can visit the General without him knowing because one thing is certain the General would blow him to kingdom come if he knew.

‘Let me out here driver, I will walk the rest of the way’

‘What the airport is 20 miles away’

‘I am not walking to the airport driver I am going to walk the road to redemption so be a good fellow and pull over’

Omega hands the driver a crisp one hundred dollar bill and climbs out ‘Keep the change and driver keep your mouth shut or I will visit you at home and shut it for you permentatly’

The shaken cab driver takes off like a bat out of hell before the crazy man can do him harm.

Back on the street Omega walk with his head down trying to blend in with the masses.

He is thinking about his next move when he feels the cell phone vibrating in his pocket ‘Hello who is this?’

‘Why did you try to kill me you asshole I am on your side’

‘I tried to kill you because you are a Russian spy meddling in American affairs’

‘Did the General tell you that? Just give me a few minutes and I will explain what is happening’

‘General Holtsteader is the leader of a splinter group determined to assassinate the president and replace him with a puppet Chinese president’

‘Are you with me so far Kevin?’

‘Kevin? Did you just call me Kevin?’

‘Yes your name is Kevin Wayne Goodman, a killer for hire who spent years in jail before Holtsteader gained your release to perform wet work for him so he can control the government from the inside’

‘So you really didn’t know your own name?”

‘I had no idea, I woke up this morning with a dead man strapped to a chair in my motel room’

‘Holtsteader has implanted a transistor in my head so he can control me and he said that if I double cross him he will blow me to smithereens’

‘But I haven’t heard from him for hours maybe I am out of range or something?’

‘Where are you now Kevin? Because we need to meet in person and come up with a plan to stop General Holtsteader’

Omega knows that he needs to trust someone sooner or later’ I don’t know what street I am on but I can see a Holiday Inn sign just up the road’

‘OK Kevin go inside to the bar and order a drink I will meet you there in ten minutes’

Ten minutes later the two adversaries are sitting in a booth ‘Sorry about your face it must hurt?’

‘Don’t worry about it only hurts when I blink’

‘Sorry again but before we start I have a couple of questions, who was the dead in the motel room and why is Russia involved in American domestic affairs?’

Firstly I don’t know the name of the man in your room but I am sure my colleagues will investigate the matter further in due course’

‘Secondly Kevin General Holtsteader is a very dangerous man who believes that democracy is no longer working for every day American’s and he wants to install a Chinese president to keep the people away from vices and take away their freedom of speech’

Kevin as you know Russia is not a fan of democracy but can you imagine what will happen if the red dragon has control over your nuclear capabilities and your reserve bank?

‘There would be riots on the streets in every city plus the world would be plunged into fiscal chaos knowing that the Chinese have their grubby little fingers on the red button’

‘But surely no one in America would vote for an Asian even if they are a naturalized citizen’,

‘Sure they would Kevin, don’t forget that the people put Reagan in the oval office back in the 80’s and now Donald Trump is president upsetting everyone with his tweets’

In New York city General Marcus Holtsteader is running out of patience, the live feed to the location of Agent Omega has gone on the blink and the IT specialist is having trouble fixing the problem.

He has posted extra security outside his bunker because the last thing he wants is to have Omega showing up unannounced.

Once the system is up and running again Holtsteader will ignite the transistor and the world will be rid of Agent Omega plus dead men tell no tales.

Agent Blackhawk knows that he is standing on very shaky ground so when everyone in the bunker is concentrating on the computer he put out of commission he slips from the room unnoticed.

But his exit didn’t go unseen because Lee Wang has been watching Blackhawk closely and he doesn’t like what he has seen, Blackhawk is trouble and trouble needs to be handled swiftly.

Agent Goblinsky you know my name but can you tell me where I come from?’

‘I can tell you that your parents were killed in a car accident near the family home in Fort Lauderdale Florida.’

You were only six years old at the time and spent years going from different foster homes and that is when General Hollister first entered your life’

‘He owned a huge ranch outside the city where he housed and trained dozens of boys to become elite soldiers because even back then he had visions of becoming a man with total control’.

‘But when you were eighteen you escaped his compound which he named The Academy.’

You escaped when you were eighteen but as soon as you hit the streets trouble followed you around like a mangy dog’

At nineteen you committed your first murder and from that moment on the killing didn’t stop until you were arrested in 2010 and sentenced to death’

‘No one really knows how many people you killed or what your motive was but the tally is believed to be around 23’

‘At the Academy none of the other trainee’s knew your real identity to them you were just Omega another lost soul brought into line by the General’

Omega cant get his head around the fact that he is a serial killer.

He feels sad that he has inflicted so much pain on so many families but at the same he wouldn’t hesitate to plunge a knife into General Hlotsteader if the opportunity arises.

Donald Trump knows that his chances of still holding the office of the president of the united states until the next election are very slim so on the evening of 14 February 2020 he tweets one final time.

‘My fellow American it is with deep sadness that I tell that I am standing down as your preident’

My impeachment trial as you know is to be held next week and I tell you all now that I am guilty of some of the charges against me but I committed the crimes in the best interest of this great country and I wouldn’t hesitate to do the deed again if I thought it was for the best’

‘Goodbye my friends and lets keep this nation great’

Three months later.

General Holtsteader orders his limo driver to stop at the entrance to the west wing of the white house.

He strides inside like he owns the place and is greeted by the 46th president of the united states, Lee Wang.

The pair shake hands then the president gets right down to business ‘Thank you for coming in today General Holtsteader and it has been a pleasure doing business doing business with you and my masters in Beijing are very happy that I now sit in the oval office with complete power over the American people and the world at large’

Unfortunately for you General Holtsteader your usefulness has come to an end’

While he was addressing the General Wang had picked up his cell phone and now with an evil smirk Wang enters a four digit code’ ‘Goodbye General perhaps we will meet again in the next life’

Holtsteader can’t believe what he is hearing Why you motherfucking asshole what have you done?’

Those are the last words The General will utter because an artery in his brain explodes and he falls to the carpet .

President Wang sits on the ground next to his fallen comrade ‘Remember back at the Academy when you instructed the doctor to implant that transistor in the skull of Omega?Well the doctor also gave added a sedative to your coffee that day and while you slept he inserted a small capsule inside an ear up near your brain and when I entered a code on my cell an artery exploded causing stroke like symptom’s’

General Holtsteader exhales his last breath and dies a lonely broken man.

President Wang smiles in satisfaction and immediately phones home ‘Tell Premier Xi Jinping that now is the ideal time to release the virus’

Lets see how the world handles Corona and the consequences.

Wang sits behind his desk in the oval office not quite believing that his country has just pulled off the biggest coup in history with virtually no resistance.

Soon China’s plan for total control will enter its second phase.

THE END.

Part two coming soon.

‘Goiter ( 2 ) Soul Sacrifice’

16 Saturday Nov 2019

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

descruction, evil, fire, god, horns, mayhem, murder, sacramento, san diego, tail, the devil, trident

In the first installment of this adventure I introduced you to Bernie Torrence a 35 year old retail manager from Sacramento California who had been experiencing severe stomach pain for a week.

Almost collapsing one morning while preparing to go to work all Bernie could do was stagger back to back where he hoped that the good lord would come down and carry him away.

Around lunchtime Bernie watched in horror as his stomach distended and began to swell like an over ripe watermelon and from his belly button emerged a tiny human figure ‘Hello my name is Audley Creed are you my mommy?’

Still recovering from giving birth Bernie can barely manage a whisper in reply ‘I suppose I am your mommy Audley but I am also your daddy as well’

With a squelch the rest of Audley’s body enters the world still joined to his mommy/daddy by an umbilical.

All Bernie can do is stare at the ugliest baby ever known and soon Audley will turn into the goiter from hell.

In the first few days of their acquaintance Bernie and Audley fight abd bicker over anything and everything but they both agree that Bernie is in no fit condition to return to work as the manager of the local supermarket

Bills need to be paid and now there is another mouth to feed so with no other options Bernie proposes that they appear on ‘Australia’s Got Talent’

with Audley pretending to be a ventriloquist’s dummy.

Audley isn’t keen on the idea but with no alternative he reluctantly agrees.

After a week of rehearsals they appear on the talent show and to their complete astonishment they win the audition but Audley isn’t happy with their stage name and wants it changed from ‘Torrence & Creed’ to ‘Creed & Friend’

Bernie cant believe how ungrateful the little turd is so he decides to have a few drinks to drown his sorrows and there is an upside to his alcohol intake and that is that the beer flows through his system along the umbilical cord causing Audley to become violently sick and sorry.

But not sorry enough apparently.

When Bernie fell asleep Audley chewed his way through the cord binding the two together than he wrapped the bloody appendage around Bernie’s throat in an attempt to strangle him.

Waking in fright Bernie fought for his life and managed to grab a pair of nail clippers and stab the little monster in his right eye.

Holding a hand over his face Audley flees the scene and disappears into the night.

Bernie breath’s a sigh of relief as he watches his offspring run, now hopefully now his life will return to some sort of normality.

PART TWO.

Audley stumbles along a backstreet knowing that if he doesn’t get his facial injury seen to quickly he will more than likely bleed to death before sunrise.

But luckily for him a passing paramedic notices his predicament and pulls over to offer some assistance

The two paramedics are stunned at the extent of the injury and all they can do is remove the damaged organ and apply a bandage until they transport the patient to hospital.

Audley knows that he cant let his two saviours take him to hospital where surely the cops will be summons and they would ask a lot of questions about how did he manage to be stabbed in the eye.

But being only two foot tall Audley knows that he will need help if he is get away from the paramedics.

And without an ounce of regret he calls on an inner demon and in a puff of smoke his maker the devil appears reducing his sons enemies to nothing but two piles of cinders and bone.

Bernie still cant believe that the boy that he brought into this world is just an evil motherfucker who tried to throttle him with his own umbilical cord.

When Audley fled after failing in his attempt to kill his parent he ripped the umbilical cord from Bernie’s body.

Bleeding profusely Bernie knows that he is in mortal danger so he to calls upon an inner strength.

‘God as you know I am not a believer but if you do exist can you please heal my wounds so that I can find Audley Creed and beat the shit out of him and bring him to justice before he can harm anyone else.

( As he whispered his prayer Bernie had no way of knowing that Audley with some help from the dark side has already committed the ultimate sin twice )

‘And God if you really really do exist can you please deposit $ 1 million into my bank account to pay for my funereal if you cant find in your heart to save me ‘

‘But if I do survive I promise to spend the money on my quest to track down Creed and a little on beer hookers and sundry expenses etc etc etc.

Thank you Jesus thank you Lord.

Audley Creed is almost back to his old self after the Devil held his hot trident to his eye suturing the cavity closed.

Losing an eye is a inconvenience but it is a small price to pay to be able to follow his father into the darkness.

Being the Devil’s spawn gives him a huge advantage in ensuring that all goodness and well being is destroyed forever so now the bad men in the black hats will bring pestilence and corruption for eternity.

Bernie wakes from a deep sleep with a slight headache and a full bladder.

As he stands before the throne is surprised that he doesn’t feel any more pain from his injured stomach and when he lifts his shirt he is surprised to discover that the massive wound is healed ,there isn’t even a scar.

Thank you Jesus thank you lord.

Feeling the best he has in years Bernie goes into town to celebrate the second he has been given at life but first he has to visit the bank to check if a second miracle has befallen him.

After standing in a queue for 20 minutes Bernie asks the teller if she could check the balance of his account when she tells him that currently he has $1,000,527 available.

‘Oh my God Bernie did you win the lottery or something’

Bernie has no words all he can do is sit down before he falls down.

After running a few errands Bernie still cant believe that he has over $1 million in the bank.

If God is willing to give him a shitload of money maybe he could ask for a fridge full of beer that never runs out or free flights to anywhere for the rest of his life.

He is still smiling as he pulls into his driveway when his phone pings alerting him that he has a new message.

The message is from a PRIVATE NUMBER and Bernie wouldn’t normally reply to a message from anyone hiding behind their device but this time he relents ‘Hello Bernie God here ,don’t push your luck because what I giveth I can easily take back’

“To earn your money Bernie you need to find Audley Creed and destroy his evil soul because he has just teamed up with the Devil and together those two could threaten the very existence of mankind’

‘Kill the fucker Bernie kill him dead Yours Truly God’

The message instantly disappears from the screen leaving Bernie to wonder whether having $ 1 million is really worth the hassle.

500 miles away Audley is wandering the streets of San Diego seeking food and a place to rest for the night.

He now sports a black patch over the ruined eye and every now and then he will rub the spot where his eye used to be and when he rubs Audley thinks about Bernie Torrence the man who gave birth to him and how good it will feel to slowly torture the cunt then send him on a one way ticket to hell where he will meet his original father ,the Devil.

As he saunters along he pretends not to notice the looks strangers give him as they pass by him.

It isn’t easy being two foot tall with an eye patch with a shock of orange hair.

If only the fuckers knew that with only a whisper he could have them all burnt to a crisp.

When he gets close to Jefferson Park he notices a huge big top tent set up.

The circus must be in town.

A dozen or so people have formed a line to buy tickets and Audley attempts to pass unnoticed but no such luck’Hey freak where are you going? You should join the circus because you would fit right in’

Audley eyes the creep with eyes of fire ( I should say eye of fire ) and the mouth seeing the danger in the little freaks features backs away.

Audley could easily call his father to burn the fucker but he doesn’t want to attract too much attention to himself before the Devil can end existence as we know it.

The owner of the circus a huge bear of a man who closely resembles the serial killer Ed Kemper eyes Audley suspiciously as he approaches.

Lowell Payne is not only obese but he is meaner than a wolverine and he doesn’t take kindly to trespassers ‘Hey asshole where in the fuck do you think you are going? This is private property so go back and stand in line like everybody else’

Audley looks up at the giant feeling a little like Jack in the beanstalk ‘I don’t want to buy a ticket you dumb chunk of shit. I need a place to stay for a while so shut the fuck up and give me a job and stop wasting my time’

Lowell is about to squash the potty mouthed tom thumb like a bug but he has to admit that the one eyed midget has a lot of spunk plus he is the perfect size to get shot from a cannon ‘Okay Tom I hope you have a head for heights and like the smell of gunpowder’

Today must be your lucky day because it just happens that there is a current vacancy so be here at 7 o’clock sharp tomorrow morning and don’t be late’

‘My name is Audley Creed asswipe and don’t you forget it’

‘I have nowhere else to go so I will start immediately ,now show me where I can bunk down for the night and make it snappy’

For once in his life Lowell Payne is lost for words and he glumly leads Audley to a bunch of trailers out the back.

As he follows his new boss Audley rubs the patch over his right eye with one hand while his other hand gingerly touches a pair of nodules breaking through the skin on both sides of his head.

Audley’s horns are making an appearance.

At home Bernie is perched on the edge of his seat demolishing a can of Millers Lite as he ponders the best way to locate Creed without earning the wrath of the Devil and the hell of horrors.

God has graciously given him a lot of cash and hopefully he can catch Creed without spending too much of the heavenly money.

But all that can wait until tomorrow because right now he has plans to sink a few more beers and watch some porn on the XXX channel.

Hopefully God will have his back turned and his hands out of his pockets.

Not quite in the mood just yet Bernie channel surfs and soon comes across a documentary on CBN about the plight of millions of refugees and misplaced people the world over who had to flee their homes to escape poverty and government corruption.

Transfixed Bernie forgets all about pleasuring himself watching porn and his beer is now flat and unappealing.

He vows then and there to help his fellow human beings even if it means spending every cent of God’s kind donation.

Bernie’s phone once again pings and PRIVATE NUMBER lights up the screen and this time Bernie answers immediately ‘Hello Bernie good to see that you are going to help the people because I cant do it all by myself’

Bernie you will need to use your generous heart to destroy Audley Creed because if you try to fight fire with fire you will lose and than the Devil and his one eyed apprentice will drag you down to hell where you will burn and smoulder for damnation’

Before Bernie can get a word in the message again deletes automatically and once more the born again Christian ponders whether having a lot of money is worth getting roasted alive down in the Devils basement.

He will to remember to go to the drug store and buy some super doper sunburn cream.

At the circus Audley is making a lot of new friends even though he knows that soon they will all be burning a slow burn.

He is rooming with lobster boy who has claws instead of hands plus rubber man who would win the game twister every single time.

Every day he has lunch with his room mates ,the bearded lady and a few of the clowns who all help him adjust to circus life under the big top.

Getting shot out of a cannon three times a day takes a lot of getting used to especially the hot wick burning his butt and the safety net could be a tad wider.

Audley no longer rubs his eye patch even though the still holds a hate for Bernie Torrence.

He now rubs the two horns that recently sprouted on his head.

Like father like son.

Bernie is now a fully fledged man of God and now he walks the street in a long white gown and has let his hair grow’

The only disappointment is his scraggly beard that wouldn’t look out of place on a pimply faced teenager.

He bought himself a bible from a secondhand store and reads the scriptures to anyone who will listen and next week Bernie will celebrate the opening of a new soup kitchen.

Audley along with two pointy horns now has an itch above his butt crack where a tail is beginning to form plus his skin is now a deep red colour.

He is now officially a little Devil.

And his new appearance hasn’t gone unnoticed Lowell Payne who is keen to cash in because when it comes to the circus there is no such thing as too many freaks.

Audley is due at the office to pick up his pay check and when he does Lowell will tell him days of getting shot from a cannon are over because now is will be the circus’s new star attraction Lil’ Lucifer.

Lowell is busy calculating how much money his new freak will bring to the circus when the horned one enters his office.

Audley takes a seat and listens as his boss tells him about his new role but as Lowell talks his balls do a somersault in their sac when he comes to realise that Audley is actually a readers digest condensed version of the prince of darkness a real life Devil with horns a tail red skin and a temper to match.

Realizing the danger that he is in Lowell attempts to flee but the one eyed mini lucifer is having none of that and he rubs his hands together furiously causing sparks to fly around the room disorientating the scared circus owner.

Then Audley swings his newly formed tail and the barbs on the end sink into Lowell’s rotund belly who falls to the ground sirloined and purloined.

Lowell Payne is now nothing more than fresh kibble.

The Devil is watching his protégé on CCTV live from his over heated basement with pride burning his black heart.

His demon seed is progressing well and if all goes as planned planet earth will become a wasteland.

Satisfied that Lowell has been burnt to a crisp Audley gathers up his tail and runs outside where he shoots more sparks into the big top and into his co- workers trailers.

Then he stands back and watches as flames ignite spreading quickly devouring the tent and trailers and all persons within.

All up that night 280 people lost their lives as evil tries to take control from the good and steal the souls from the living.

Bernie Torrence is busy in his kitchen serving up the soup of the day and as he ladles out another bowl of chicken noodle soup to one of his regulars his eyes steal a glance ata small TV attached to a wall.

His eyes widen in alarm and recognition as he listens to a news report from San Diego.

He becomes increasingly worried as the reporter ,Penny Waffleon gushes ‘News just coming in from San Diego ,a fire has burnt down the big top and surrounding trailers of a visiting circus killing all 230 patrons and circus workers’

‘Even more disturbing is that the police believe that the fire was deliberately lit with an eye witness telling them that he saw a person of a small stature fleeing the scene.’

‘The suspect is described as being only two feet tall with a patch over his right eye and I know this will sound strange but he perpetrator is said to has horns and a long tail’

Now over to Dan Druff with the weather ,Dan’

Bernie tells his cook to take over and he rushes out to his car and begins the two hour drive to San Diego.

As he drives Bernie half expects God to ring with instructions on how to stop a sunburnt midget from starting complete mayhem.

When he reaches his destination Bernie still hasn’t heard a peep from his maker but he isn’t that concerned because he can feel God’s presence all around him.

The area around the crime scene is taped off with homicide detectives scanning the surrounds looking for clues but unfortunately there is no sign of Audley Creed.

50 metres away Audley smiles when he sees his Bernie over near the police containment line.

He has taken refuge behind a dumpster having been unable to escape and so far he has managed to stay hidden from the cops.

Now with his birth father unknowingly coming to his rescue Audley knows exactly what he needs to do.

Unseen he sidles up beside his dad and grabs hold of his hand.

Bernie almost died there and then when he looked down and saw who was holding his hand immediately he tried to break free but Audley was holding him in a vice like grip, ‘Why you little Devil you are even more evil than I ever imagined and you are definitely no son of mine so just give up and accept your punishment’

Before Bernie can alert the police he falls to his knees in intense pain and to his astonishment his belly button from where he gave birth to Audley opens up and the evil little fucker crawls inside like a joey kangaroo returning to the pouch.

The genie is back in the bottle.

The Devil is disappointed that his protégé couldn’t achieve his objective this time because he has been waiting for eons to bring darkness to mankind so a few more months shouldn’t make much difference.

Up amongst the clouds God is relieved that the ultimate fight has been put on hold for a while and he is still confident that Bernie want let him down.

Plus if he needs to step in and perform a miracle or two to help save humanity than he will.

THE END

PART THREE is coming soon so keep an eye out.

Incognito Mosquito

19 Saturday Oct 2019

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

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Tags

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Sure thing Greta I shall see you then’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Christian joins his squadron on the window sill.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perhaps enough to wipe out humanity on earth.

THE END

Who will save the day?

Maybe time is up for mankind.

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

‘Ribbons Of Blood (5) The Final Chapter’

14 Saturday Sep 2019

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

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Tags

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Olivetti was eventually captured by the FBI and imprisoned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Final Chapter

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Three months later

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How can two people just vanish without a trace?

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that meal will be Trooper Clyde Ybanez.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk

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

‘Hello Trooper Ybanez so we meet again’

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

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

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

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

No more Mr Nice Guy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THE END

The Stairwell

06 Saturday Jul 2019

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

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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

stevenjohnstonblog

~ Short stories about anything and everything

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The Stairwell