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‘Hands Of Vengeance’ ( 2 )

01 Sunday Jan 2023

Posted by stevenjohnno in stories, Uncategorized

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Tags

blood, death, horror, murder, revenge, suicide

I have written a brief summary of the first instalment of this story but it would be best if you read Part One before continuing.

Elijah Pope was just 28 years old when he was put to death in the electric chair at San Quentin.

Since the age of eleven Elijah was constantly in trouble with the authorities, breaking into houses while the occupiers were asleep plus other assorted petty crime that earned him nothing but a few stints at juvenile hall.

When he was 23 Elijah was arrested for a series of murders that happened near his home in Manhattan.

At his trial Elijah sat in stunned silence when the prosecution told the court that DNA found at all thirteen murder scenes matched his DNA and Elijah was nonplussed and screamed out ‘I am a petty thief and i haven’t killed anyone, there must be some kind of mistake.’

But after meeting for less than three hours the jury returned and found Elijah Pope guilty of the crime and the judge sentenced him to death.

After countless appeals over three years on 21 August 2022 Elijah walked down the corridor towards the death chamber screaming that he was an innocent man vowing to come back and kill all of the people who have stood by and let him die.

After he was strapped into the electric chair Elijah was asked if he had any last words, looking over to his parents who sat holding hands in the viewing room ‘Mom Dad you have to know why my DNA was found? Do i have a twin brother that i don’t know about, talk to me please’ Elijah pleads but his parents remain stoic and silent just like they have ever since the day he was arrested.

Elijah blood begins to boil, he gives the onlookers a final glance and began affirming ‘I will be back all you motherfuckers and when i do none of you will escape my wrath.’

Warden Ian Baldacci who has been in charge at San Quentin for over twenty years says a silent prayer for the condemned prisoner then flicks a switch causing Elijah’s body into shocking spasms and soon the room is full of smoke and the stench of burnt flesh.

Poe struggles against the wrist restraints twisting his body violently, so violently that soon both hands can’t withstand the pressure and are severed and fall to the floor.

Elijah Pope is pronounced dead at 6.06 pm by the prison doctor.

An hour later after everybody has gone home or back on duty two orderlies appear pushing a trolley holding a cheap pinewood coffin.

The orderlies unbuckle Pope’s body and gently place him inside the coffin then the younger of the two is ordered to pick up the discarded hands which he does with a look of distaste.

The hands are placed on top of the scorched remains and then the coffin is placed inside a white van that the senior orderly drives down to the southern corner of the prison and soon the pine coffin is lowered six feet down into a freshly dug grave.

After the prison chaplain says a few words the hole is filled in and Elijah Pope is left to dwell in purgatory forever.

Four months later just before midnight the earth covering Pope’s grave stirs and soon a finger breaks the surface and surveys the area like a submarine’s periscope.

Satisfied that the coast is clear soon a pair of unblemished hands breakthrough the soil and scurry the fifteen yards over the perimeter fence then they scramble up the weathered stone drop down the other side then hide behind a dumpster until a means of escape comes along.

PART TWO.

‘For God’s sake Miquel can you stop smoking that shit here, what will the boss say when we return to base and the truck smells like a frat house.”

‘Calm down Jimmy it is only a small joint the boss won’t even notice.’

‘A small joint? It is the size of a cigar, wind the window down before i die from marijuana poisoning.’

Miquel Ferria a 39 year old Mexican immigrant and Jimmy James a native new yorker who celebrated his 60th birthday last Wednesday have been collecting the trash for over a decade and even though they might argue and bicker most mornings the unlikely friends get along well enough but when it is 4.30 in the morning tempers can fray.

Jimmy is a skinny white man who is counting down the days until he can retire while Miquel who is big for a Mexican is still thinking the night before where he and his wife Margita made love like a pair of lovestruck teenagers.

‘Snap out of it Miquel, lets finish our run as fast as we can so we can go home and have ourselves an early weekend.’

‘Good idea Jimbo now shut the fuck up so i can concentrate on driving this piece of shit.”

After driving six blocks emptying hundreds of bins the pair arrive outside San Quenton and they both say a silent prayer thanking the lord for letting live outside the walls and not inside trying to survive hell on earth.

Miquel parks the truck and lights up the joint enjoying the smoke distorting his brain ‘Maybe i should drive Miquel the last thing we need is for you to kill us both a week after Christmas.’

As the pair walk around the back of the truck to change positions neither of them notice a pair of hands scurry from a behind a tree and leap aboard clinging on tight to the running board a mere three yards from Jimmy’s scrawny neck.

Two hours later Miquel and Jimmy are weary and wired needing a caffeine and sugar hit so Jimmy parks outside a Wendy’s diner where they unwind with a large coffee and a dozen donut’s.

While the two trash collectors enjoy their down time the pair of hands jump down and just as the sun begins to rise they race across the road unnoticed and soon disappear in the foliage of a well maintained garden bed.

The garden is located on the western side of a huge building no more than ten feet from the main entrance.

The fingers of both hands intertwine hoping that soon they will obtain a host to help in their quest for vengeance.

Thirty minutes later an already weary doctor arrives to start his shift but before he goes inside Docter Edwin Rothchild a world renowned orthopedic surgeon decides to have a cigarette before starting another hectic day.

Taking a seat Edwin starts thinking about a patient of his who has been waiting for a double hand transplant for over six months now.

Patrick Redman lost both hands on a boating accident last August and despite searching all over globe a match has yet to be found.

.Unfortunately for Patrick he has the rare A B Negative blood type so finding a match has become very troublesome.

Edwin shakes the thought from his mind, stubs out his cigarette when something in the corner garden catches his eye.

Bending down for a closer look Edwin’s knees buckle and a tiny voice in the back of his mind tells him to forget what he saw before it is too late but against his better judgement Edwin tells the voice to mind its own business and shut the fuck up.

Not quite believing what he saw Edwin has a closer look and a pair of hands creep forward like and octopus from its secret garden.

Stealing a glance behind him Rothchild picks up both hands and places them gently in his coat pocket then casually walks into the hospital to start his shift at the Marin County General County.

Up in his office Edwin locates a donor organ cooler fills it with ice and gently places the hands inside but the hands have other ideas and spring from the cooler and start to climb up Edwin’s shirt.

Screeching in fright Edwin flicks both hands back into the cooler and quickly closes the lid.

When his heart rate returns to normal Edwin opens the lid an inch and quickly take a blood sample and sends it downstairs for testing.

After doing his rounds Edwin returns to his office and as he eats his lunch he checks for any new emails and immediately his heart begins to race again when he notices an email from hematology.

Clicking on the link Edwin is both glad and frightened when he reads the results, the blood sample is indeed A B Negative, now young Patrick Redman will have another chance to become a whole person again with two new working pair of hands.

After he finishes eating his lunch Rothchild phones Patrick Redman with the good news, spends the afternoon performing surgery then just after six pm he grabs the cooler and heads on home.

At his house Patrick Redman is ecstatic, after months of having his wife Maureen feed him and wipe his butt finally there is a ray of hope on the horizon.

Arriving home Rothchild takes a quick shower then pours himself a large scotch while he prepares a plate of leftover meatloaf.

His wife thirty years Catherine is away visiting her elderly parents in Oregen which is a good thing because Edwin knows that she wouldn’t approve of what he brought home in the cooler.

Staring at the cooler as he drinks a few more stiff drinks Edwin drags himself to bed where he spends a restless dreaming about a pair of hands going on a murderous rampage.

Waking early despite feeling like a steamroller drove back and forth over his skull while he slept Edwin rolls out of bed early ready to face another day.

Entering the living room he is glad to see the lid still in place on top of the cooler then after watching the morning news drinking his first cup of coffee for the day then he grabs his car key and the cooler and drives towards the hospital.

Normally unflappable Edwin is nervous as hell as he walks into the hospital because he knows that shortly he will perform a surgery attaching a pair of hands from an unknown source to his desperate patient which he knows is bordering on criminality but he took an oath to treat his patient to the best of his ability and that is what he intends to do.

He informs his colleagues that a donor was found over night and the hands are a perfect to his patient Patrick Redman who has been informed of the happy news and that his surgery is scheduled for 10 am tomorrow morning and that he is not to consume any food after 8 pm.

Brenda Fellows a tough nurse who has worked at the hospital for over 22 years is skeptical when she is told that a donor has suddenly appeared out of the blue. ‘Doctor Rothchild there is nothing in the system about this donor so i will need the donor’s name, his blood type and which hospital the donation is coming from.’

‘I will need all of this information so i can enter it into the data base so everything is above board, if i don’t receive this vital information by 1 pm then the surgery wont be able to proceed as scheduled.’

‘Of course Nurse Fellows why don’t we step into my office and i will give all the information that you need.’

Rothchild knows that he is currently walking on very dangerous ground, deep down he knows that what he is about to do is very wrong but after taking a deep breath he leads the hapless nurse towards a donor cooler sitting on his desk. ‘Really Doctor this is highly irregular.’

‘Lifting the lid exposing its contents Rothchild beckons Fellows closer and despite her misgivings she leans in for a closer look then before she can scream the hands spring forward wrap themselves tightly around and squeeze.

After their victim is no longer breathing the pair of hands jump down into the safety of the cooler safe in the knowledge that things are about to get a whole lot worse.

Patrick Redman arrives at the hospital two hours before his operation and after checking in he is told to strip naked to put on a white gown with an opening in the back.

Feeling exposed and vulnerable Patrick is allocated a bed, given a pre-op sedative and told to relax ‘It will all be over before you know it.’

After a marathon 14 hour operation Doctor Rothchild thanks the other members of the surgical team. ‘When done everybody as you saw the operation went smoothly, i expect that the patient will gain full use of his new hands in a matter of months.’

Later that morning Patrick wakes in the recovery room feeling a little woozy but his mood picks up when a nurse tells him that his procedure went well and after a few months of rehab he will be a new man.

After he left the surgical ward Doctor Rothchild took the lift up two flights then entered the janitor’s room where he had hidden Nurse Fellow’s body.

Throwing the body over his left shoulder he calmly walks over to the emergency door and kicks it open then he walks another ten yards and stands on the ledge five stories above the ground.

Clutching his passenger tight Rothchild steps forward into oblivion screaming ‘FORGIVE ME PATRICK I WAS POSSESSED.’

Patrick is still flexing his new pair of hands when a young doctor enters his room ‘Hello Patrick i am Doctor Gregg Wilson and i can see that you are making a speedy recovery.’

‘I sure am Doc but where is Doctor Rothchild? I was expecting to see him to drop in this morning while he was doing his rounds.’

‘Ugh sorry Patrick but Doctor Rothchild had to hum step out for a while but don’t worry about that i will be attending to you from now on and i have to say that i am surprised how well you have recovered from such a complicated operation.’

All of a sudden the donated hands start to gesticulate wildly and Patrick is startled to say the least ‘I am not moving my hands Doc they are doing it all by themselves.’

‘What in the fuck is going on? ‘I don’t know Patrick maybe you are having an allergic reaction to your new hands but and this is really weird but i believe that the hands are using sign language.’

After writing down what the hands had to say Doctor Wilson gives his patient a troubled look ‘Don’t keep me in suspense Doc what did my hands have to say for themselves?’

‘I have a deaf sister Patrick so i know sign fairly well and what i am about to say will be distressing but here goes ‘I AM BACK MOTHERFUCKERS AND I AM COMING FOR YOU ALL ONE AT A TIME. SLEEP TIGHT NIGHTY NIGHT.’

‘Who is back Doc ? I don’t understand.’

‘I don’t know what is going on either Patrick, just lie back and try to relax.’

‘After we run a few tests i am positive that a solution for your predicament will be found.’

After a fortnight and countless tests by numerous doctors who find nothing unusual Patrick is told they he will be ready to be discharged in a day or two but he is to report back to the hospital every week for his scheduled physiotherapy.

With a lot of help from his wife Maureen Patrick quickly settles into a routine back at his house.

His hands are strong and healthy with all of the physio and exercise and Patrick can finally see a light at the end of the tunnel and if all goes as planned maybe he will be able to return to his job and provide for his family properly.

After an intense workout Patrick has a shower to take the edge off.

He stands under the hot water for ten minutes washing away the sweat and plenty of painful memories then when he feels cleansed Patrick climbs out and dries himself with a towel and he is happy to see that all of his fingers are all in working order.

Noticing that the bathroom mirror has steamed over Patrick turns on the exhaust fan and as the mirror clears Patrick begins to clean his teeth then suddenly his right hand shots out and writes a message on the glass.

Patrick pulls his hand away from the mirror and reads ‘TIME TO KILL, VENEGEANCE WILL BE MINE’ ELIJAH POPE.

Wiping the words away before he leaves the bathroom Patrick knows that he is in deep trouble, it is the second time that his donated hands have taken on a mind of their own and left behind a cryptic message but first thing he needs to find out who is Elijah Pope.

After asking Mr Google for help Patrick is appalled to see that Elijah Pope was sentenced to death for of series of bloody murders and was executed by the means of the electric chair near enough to six months ago.

‘Just fricking great i have been given the hands from a convicted killer.’

That night as he sleeps the DNA from his new pair of hands continues to intermingle with his own DNA and when Patrick wakes up and rubs the sleep from his eyes.

He kisses his wife good morning ‘Morning sweetie would you like some bacon and eggs for breakfast?”

Maureen sits up and looks at her husband ‘Sure Patrick but your voice is different it is a lot deeper, are you feeling okay?’

‘And your hair is a couple of shades lighter, did you dye it last night.?”

Patrick doesn’t answer but admits to himself that he does feel different and not in a good way.

All he wants to do is go back to the hospital and tell Doctor Wilson and sever his hands and throw them into a furnace instead he walks into the kitchen and starts preparing breakfast and by the time the couple finish eating the bacon and eggs Patrick Redman now occupies a mere 5% of his body while Elijah Pope occupies the remaining 95%.

For all intents and purposes Patrick Redman no longer exists.

Elijah Pope went to his grave condemned for eternity but now he has a chance to make sure that all of the people responsible for the miscarriage of justice will pay a heavy price.

Ian Baldacci the warden at San Quentin prison is relaxing at home after another hectic day not knowing that his life is about to come to an abrupt end.

His wife of thirty years is away visiting relatives but before she left Joan kindly made of few meals and left them in the fridge so all Ian has to is choose a meal and put it in the microwave for a few minutes.

But Ian decides that the mac n cheese can wait a few minutes because he really needs to unwind because it is hard dealing with prisoners on death row who have little hope and no future so what he needs is to have a long hot bath and wash away the anguish.

As he soaks Ian can feel the tension float away and he vows for the tenth time to help Joan a lot more with the household chores.

‘Hello warden enjoying your bath? Startled Ian begins to stand up to confront the intruder but a solid punch to the throat sits him back down quick smart.

‘No need to stand on my account warden just relax and enjoy the last few minutes of your miserable life.’

Struggling to breathe Baldacci take a few seconds in an attempt to gain himself some leeway before he responds ‘Who are you and what are you doing in my house?’

‘You don’t recognize me warden? I can see your brain ticking over but let me give you some help.’

‘Remember back to earlier this year when i was tied to old sparky and then you flicked the switch and sent me on a one way trip to hell but i really missed you so i have come back to talk about old times.’

‘Pope? But it can’t be, i watched you die, you were pronounced dead by the prison doctor and i saw you placed into a coffin and lowered into the ground so go back from where you came from before and let me wake from this dream in peace.’

‘This isn’t a dream warden, now tell me, how do you like your toast light brown, brown, dark brown or burnt?

It suddenly dawns on Baldacci that the freak before him is holding Joan’s old two slice toaster he gave her as a birthday present back in 2015.

Pope plugs in his weapon of choice and asks the warden if he has any last words ‘Listen Pope or whoever the fuck you are just walk away and i promise not to say a word about you being among the living again.’

‘No can do warden, but let me repeat my question, how do you like your toast?’ ‘No on second thoughts there is no need to answer because i am pretty sure that you are a crispy burnt kind of fella aren’t you warden?’

‘Noooooooooo’ Baldacci screams as he tries to catch the toaster but he loses his footing in the soapy and immediately his skin peels away exposing a pink underbelly that jerks and jumps like a macabre puppet on a string before sinking into the supercharged water.

Pope walks away careful not to slip on the wet floor, he stops and savors the smell in the bathroom a mixture of boiled lobster and pork.

He closes the front door of the warden’s house behind him satisfied that one of the assholes who mistreated him is no longer walking this earth..

At 8 am the following morning a police cruiser arrives at the wardens house to do a welfare check after concerned neighbors called to complain about the stench.

Receiving no reply after repeated knocking a uniformed officer enters the premises and following the smell he locates the warden’s body floating face down in the bathtub.

Racing outside the officer calls in for backup before vomiting six breakfast burritos onto the manicured front lawn.

10 minutes later a couple of detectives arrive at the crime and after sidestepping the mexican offering they enter the house of horrors.

Eric Robinson and Marc Freed have been partners for just on twenty years and in that time they have come across a lot of grisly cases but what confronted them that morning will be permanently imprinted in their minds.

Robinson a huge black man standing 6′ 7″ surveys the scene and notices the toaster in the bath and at first glance it looks like a possible suicide ‘What do you think Marc suicide?’

Freed a skinny white man just six weeks from retirement isn’t so sure ‘I hope it is Eric because it will save us a lot of time not having to look for a killer but why the toaster when there is a hair dryer and an electric razor sitting on the cabinet within easy reach from the bathtub?’

‘Good point Marc lets seal the scene off from nosy reporters or neighbors and let the CSI people do their thing.’

Two days later the detectives our in their office doing paperwork when their boss lieutenant Norman Parsons enters holding a manilla folder that he throws on Robinson’s desk.

Parsons is a young upstart just 34 years old who has risen through the ranks faster than a speeding bullet. ‘Let me fill you in before you read the report but you won’t like what i have to say.’

‘DNA and fingerprint evidence was found at the home of warden Ian Baldacci and they match perfectly to one nasty individual named Elijah Pope.’

‘Elijah Pope’ Freed mutters ‘I know that name but i can’t for the life of me i can’t place him.’

Parsons jumps in before Robinson has a chance to respond ‘Elijah Pope was convicted eight years ago of multiple murders and sent to death row at San Quentin.

‘Despite pleading his innocence i ten different appeals he was electrocuted by the electric chair on the 3 April this year.’

What? Robinson screams ‘How can a dead man leave DNA and fingerprints six months after his death?’

Parsons hold up his hands to stop further outbursts ‘I have asked the commissioner to put in a request to have Popes remains exhumed but in the meantime go and ask Pope’s family if Elijah has a twin brother who might be out for retribution.’

Because of the weird circumstances the exhumation was fast tracked and under leaden skies the coffin containing the remains is brought to the surface loaded into a white van and driven to the medical examiner’s office.

Dr Winston Churchmill who has been working for the county around the same time that Noah started to build his ark pulls on a pair of gloves and orders that the coffin lid be removed and two younglings quickly bow to see command.

But Churchmill orders the pair to stand back ‘Well well well will you look at that.’

Everyone in the room lean forward and Churchmill continues Do you notice the splintered wood that was broken from the inside almost like the body inside was trying to escape.’

The coffin lid is dragged away revealing the skeletal remains, Churchmill does a quick examination and tells his rapt audience ‘Everything appears to be normal except for two minor details.’

Robinson and Freed who until point remained silent can’t stay quiet no more ‘Spit it out Doctor what are the minor details? Freed whispers ‘I am glad you asked Detective because it is really quite simple, the hands the deceased hands are missing.’

Sitting in the corner of the room Parson’s know that he needs to contain the news to this room before someone spills the beans because the last thing he needs is for the residents of New York city to start panicking and spreading unfounded rumors making the job of the police force even harder than it needs to be.

‘Listen up everyone what the good doctor has revealed is to stay behind these four walls and i warn you all if i hear a whisper about a pair of wandering hands roaming the city i will come down hard on whoever leaks any information understand.’

What Parsons doesn’t know is that the pair of hands have already found a host who at this moment has already located his next victim and Pope want stop until he has killed all of the motherfuckers who sent him to hell.

You have all been warned.

THE END

Part Three coming soon.

Thanks for taking the time to read this story and could you please make a donation to go towards my goal of becoming a fulltime writer Thank you Steven.

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‘Mister Big Cheese’ Part Two.

22 Saturday Jan 2022

Posted by stevenjohnno in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

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

Part One.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Part Two.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yours Sincerely

Mister Big Cheese.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your Sincerely

Mister Parmigiano

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Make it happen Mister Secretary make it happen’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THE END

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

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

Thanks for reading my story, if you have the means could you consider making a donation large or small so i can fulfill my dream of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

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She Dug Me Up

20 Saturday Jun 2020

Posted by stevenjohnno in stories

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Tags

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For all intents and purposes i am dead.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Goodnight sweetheart don’t let the bed bugs bite’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

BIONK BIONK BIONK

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

BIONK BIONK BIONK

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THE END.

Thanks for taking the time to read my stories and please if you have the means could you make a donation so i can finally become a fulltime writer, Thanks again Steven.

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‘Ribbons of Blood (4) Dented and Demented’

08 Saturday Jun 2019

Posted by stevenjohnno in stories

≈ 1 Comment

Tags

blood, murder, olivetti, revenge, sewage, shit, strangle, typewriter, USA, virginia

This story began about a year ago when the acclaimed novelist Victor Bradstreet suffering from a severe case of writers block retreated to his cabin in rural Virginia in an attempt to clear his mind.

Close to his destination Victor stopped at a general store to stock up with the essentials.

While walking the aisles he spotted an old olivetti typewriter sitting on a clearance table and on a whim he purchased the machine.

A decision that Victor would soon regret.

As he slept on the first night at the cabin the olivetti came to life and typed a novel that would go on to become a bestseller.

In return the typewriter demanded a taste of Victors blood and on refusa the murderous machine strangled Victor with its ink ribbons and ate the evidence.

Victors publisher Penelope Clutterbuck after hearing about Victors demise drove up to the cabin where she was also dispatched by the olivetti and devoured.

A local detective Lucas Peterson was sent to the scene to investigate but he along with Victors daughter Abigail were both also killed by the typewriter leaving not a trace behind.

Detectives Godley and Creme rushed to the cabin when their colleague failed to report in and after searching the cabin found it empty so they summoned a K9 unit.

Trooper Clyde Ybanez and his trusty German shepherd Monty arrive and the dogs nose picks up the scent of the missing policeman

Monty bounds straight inside to the kitchen where the olivetti sits looking all sweet and innocent.

Godley and Creme tease Trooper Ybanez ‘Well Clyde your stupid mutt has sniffed out a typewriter you must be proud of yourself?’

But the tune soon changes when the when the olivetti who cant resist the tang of fresh meat attacks Monty with its ribbons of blood and eats the canine there and then.

A SWAT team storms the cabin and restrain the blood thirsty machine with chains to the kitchen table and transport the murderer to a maximum security prison in Langley.

After a few days held in isolation the olivetti sweet talks a prison guard into its cell with the promise of good conversation and a cigarette.

But the demon machine reneges on the promise and eats the guard to ease its hunger pains.

The prison is thrown into lock down and the warden orders that a firing squad be assembled and at 6 am the following morning the olivetti is bind folded and blown to smithereens.

To make sure that the typewriter never gets the chance to kill again the metal shards are collected taken to a nearby steelworks where the shrapnel is thrown into a furnace and melted down into steel batons.

A few weeks later a steel Campbells soup can falls from a shelf in Denver Colorado and a small piece of steel breaks away and is blown towards Springwood Virginia.

PART FOUR

Trooper Clyde Ybanez is at his house training his new K9 unit newbie a six month old Beagle named Buster who after only two weeks training is showing a lot of potential.

Clyde is still grieving the lose of his beloved German shepherd Monty who was devoured by a hungry olivetti.

Ybanez will never forget the day when he lost his loyal companion and most of all he is still pissed off over being ridiculed by the two cruel Detectives Godley and Creme.

Later that day Clyde visits his local bar in Springwood Virginia where he drowns his sorrow and pain with shots of Tequila and his mood turns sour when Godley and Creme enter and take a seat.

Ybanez knows that if he is spotted the asshole Detectives will make a scene so his downs his drink and disappears into the night.

As the trooper makes his way home 2000 miles away the small piece of steel that detached from the soup can in Colorado luckily gets stuck in the tread of a passing trucks rear tyre.

The driver of the semi has just delivered a load of vegetables and is now heading home to his home near Springwood.

All over the mid west thousands of tiny pieces of steel travel the highways and byways on a pilgrimage to Virginia.

Some of the shards are blown toward their objective by unseasonal winds while other bibs and bobs of steel hitch hike or travel by any available means until all 2309 pieces of steel reach Virginia and gather together in the basement of 25 Lowry Lane Springwood the very address of Trooper Ybanez.

Inside Clyde is sitting in the dark nursing a large whisky sour still steaming over his treatment at the hands of Godley and Creme.

The alcohol enters his bloodstream like a thunderbolt destroying any semblance of peace that remains in his body.

All Clyde needs is revenge against his tormentors all he has to do is come up with a foolproof plan.

After polishing off the bottle of liquid fire Clyde goes to bed with the dark thought embedded deep in his brain.

When his head hits his pillow a sinister smile lights up his face.

He will torture and maim Godley and Creme until they beg for mercy and once he is satisfied he will blow the two fuckers away on a bullet train to hell.

As Trooper Ybanez sleeps the 2309 slithers of steel begin to meld and intertwine in a macabre dance of metal as the tiny fragments become one.

Clyde wakes with a mouth as dry as the Sahara and a pounding headache.

After a quick visit to the bathroom he swallows a few aspirin and a cup of coffee he begins to feel a lot better.

But that soon changes when he arrives at work and runs into Creme in the change room of police headquarters ‘Well well well if it isn’t the master dog trainer himself’

‘How is your new dog coming along?

‘I hope he is better than your last mutt who couldn’t find a turd in a asshole’

Ybanez can feel his blood boiling as he listens to the Detectives words.

All he wants to do is squeeze the life from the loud mouth but police HQ isn’t the right place so he pushes past the cop and calls out to Buster his new K9 dog.

Buster is good but he isn’t in the same league as Monty but Clyde knows that the dog is still capable of becoming a good K9 unit dog .

While Clyde is at work a resurrection of sorts is happening in the basement of his house.

A misshapen form has taken its first breath of a new beginning.

If you look closely you might just recognize the shape as an olivetti typewriter.

The machine is bent and twisted out of shape but it is still a very dangerous beast.

Trooper Ybanez arrives home from work exhausted and after a quick meal and shower he goes to bed for the night.

kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk

Clyde’s ears prick up at the sound of pure evil.

He sits up in bed willing the sound to go away but it doesn’t.

kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk

How is it possible for that typewriter to still exist?

The murderous olivetti was blown apart by a firing squad then smelted down and turned into a steel can.

Maybe it is just a nightmare and he will wake up and all will be well in his world.

But Clyde knows that he is wide awake and that he has a huge problem on his hands.

He puts on his slippers and ventures down stairs to his basement where the sound is emanating from.

As soon as he turns on the light Clyde knows that he is in the middle of a real life nightmare.

Because sitting on his workbench is the olivetti looking a bit rough around the edges.

Even though the machine is twisted and dented the typewriter is mad and slightly demented.

Kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk

Clyde’s heart is beating double time in his chest as he watches the keys tapping madly.

But with no ink ribbons intact no words appear.

Then a diabolical thought enters the troopers mind’Maybe i can use this killer typewriter to my own advantage’

‘Why should i kill Godley and Creme when i have a manic machine at my disposal?’

The olivetti is still chatting away as Clyde creeps away’Don’t worry Mr Olivetti i shall return with brand new ink ribbons and you can help me deal with a little problem’

Once upstairs Clyde goes online and goggles olivetti ink ribbons and after a quick search he purchases a set of ribbons for $29.95 plus tax.

And two days later a parcel is delivered to his door.

The olivetti has killed and eaten four people plus his precious Monty so he is very wary as he descends the basement stairs’Her you go Mr Olivetti i have brought you new ink ribbons so now we can have a proper conversation’

Clyde ties the ribbons onto the end of a long fishing rod and very carefully lowers the ribbons of death into the mouth of the olivetti.

kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk

‘Hello Trooper Ybanez ,so we meet again’

‘Let me begin by saying how sorry i am about the death of your dog but he was delicious’

Do you have anymore tasty treats for me?’

Clyde blood begins to boil as the reads the words but he swallows his rage and talks directly to the crazy machine’Yes i do happen to have two more treats for you i just have to find them and bring them to you undetected’

With that Clyde storms away leaving the typewriter frustrated and hungry as hell.

Three days later Clyde enters his basement empty handed and in a filthy mood because Godley and Creme are away working on a case.

While he was at work the typewriter has been busy and Clyde picks up a sheet of paper that the mangled machine had spat out onto the floor

Clyde picks up the page and hurries back upstairs”I am glad that i managed to find you Trooper Ybanez because i think that we could become the ultimate deadly duo,the new Bonnie and Clyde if you will’

‘I know that you harbor a deep hatred toward two of your colleagues at work Detectives Kevin Godley and Lou Creme’

‘After i help you eliminate your enemies we will travel the country from coast to coast killing anyone who gets in our path’

Clyde reads the letter over and over throughout the night and comes to a decision.

He has no intention of joining the olivetti on a killing spree so once the two Detectives are taken care of he will dispose of the typewriter and return to a normal life if that is possible.

He opens the basement door and calls down’You have a deal Mr Olivetti ,first we kill Godley and Creme and then i will join you on a road trip that will tear this country a new one’

Down on the workbench the olivetti rubs its brand new ink ribbons in glee.

It can almost taste the blood of its next meal and at midnight the typewriter shuts down for the night safe in the knowledge that tomorrow promises to be a very good day indeed.

Upstairs Clyde has tossed and turned all night and at 5am he stubles out of bed weary and wired.

As he eats his breakfast his mind is doing cartwheels as he struggles to figure out how he and the olivetti can kill the Detectives without raising any suspicions.

Then suddenly the answer pops into his head.

If Mohammad can’t go to the mountain than take the mountain to Mohammad.

He enters the basement silently and as the typewriter snoozes he picks it up and carries it out to his car and straps it into the back seat.

He drives away in a daze until he reaches his destination a seedy motel on the edge of town.

After placing the salivating machine on the coffee table he phones the Springwood police department’My name is Carlos and i have information regarding the murders that happened up at Victor Bradstreet’s cabin’

‘I will only talk with Detective’s Godley and Creme and tell them to come alone or i will leave’

‘Room 6 Desert Sands Motel now’

After haging up Trooper Ybanez addresses the typewriter’Okay Mr Olivetti your next meal is on its way ,please eat at your leisure and clean up after yourself’

Leaving the door unlocked Clyde walks out to the car park to wait for the two victims to arrive.

Monty will be avenged.

Ten minutes later a squad car squeals to a stop outside room 6 and the occupants race inside without knocking.

A apprehensive Trooper Ybanez waits for half an hour before he to enters room 6.

The walls are spotted with droplets of blood but the ink ribbons are busy soaking up every last drop and five minutes later no trace of the Detectives remain.

On the coffee table the Typewriter burps in satisfaction and the meal has done its job because now the machine looks all ship shape and brand new.

Clyde is tempted to leave the murderous machine behind and go home but he doesn’t want put any innocent people in danger plus his fingerprints are all over the machine.

So he picks it up and drives home unseen.

On returning to his residence Clyde carries the olivetti downstairs and throws it into a dark corner of the basement.’I leave you now Mr Olivetti ,this basement is now your tomb so may you rot and rust for eternity you good for nothing chunk of metal’

kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk

The olivetti is furious as it pounds away at the keys but with no paper in the mechanism all it is doing is talking to itself so the irate machine shuts up to live and fight another day.

The disappearance of Godley and Creme hits the headlines nationwide and the FBI is brought to help with the investigation.

Trooper Ybanez is at home surviving on whisky and cigarettes half expecting the feds to break down the front door or the carnivorous typewriter to creep upstaies and strangle him in his sleep.

This goes on for three weeks until Clyde can’t take it anymore.

If he is to keep his sanity the olivetti will have to go away and this time for good.

Before opening the basement door Clyde takes a deep breathe sincerely hoping that the evil fucker is dead.

And as he descends the stairs it looks like his prayer has been answered because the typewriter looks deceased covered in rust and cobwebs.

Clyde quickly wraps the olivetti in three layers of duct tape to ensure that the deadly ribbons of blood cant escape.

Once again he carries the machine out to his car and drives for 15 miles until he reaches an isolated campground that he used to visit with his parents when he was a kid.

The one thing that Clyde hated about the place was sitting on the seat of the stinking deep drop shitter.

He had nightmares about falling 100 feet and landing on a steaming pile of prehistoric crap.

As Clyde nears his objective he has failed to notice that the layers of duct tape are beginning to fray and tear at the edges.

He pulls into the empty car park of the campground and retrieves the bundle from the back seat.

The stench from the shitter hits him like a ton of bricks but Clyde pushes on and a few minutes later he arrives at the temple of poo.

Opening the door he lifts the typewriter above his head and throws it down into the stinking effluent.

Satisfied that the machine is deep in the muck he turns away to begin the next chapter of his life when he hears a muffled

kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk

‘OH SHIT’ he screams and desperately tries to run but the ribbons of blood wrap themselves around his throat and Clyde is pulled towards the temple opening and silently he vanishes into the brown.

Will Clyde survive his ordeal or will he succumb to the fecal stream.

To find out come back and read the next installment and bring lots of toilet paper.

THE END

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

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A Tree And Me

03 Saturday Mar 2018

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

killer, murder, oak tree, revenge

The following is a story about a tree that has a lot more bite than bark.

I have just turned ten years of age and my life is about to change forever.

My parents have sold the our house in Glendale Los Angeles because we are all the way over to the west coast.

To a place called Providence Rhode Island.

I don’t like the idea of leaving all of my friends behind but what can i do? I am just a kid

A month later after a very long boring flight to the other side of the country we finally arrive at the airport.

Than a cab takes us to our new home in Providence

And as my father pays the cab fare i get my first look at my new house

It is a big two storey brick place with a good sized front yard

As i check out the house my eyes are drawn to a huge tree near the front porch

‘Nathaniel don’t just stand there gawking help your father with the bags’ That was my mom,Jean,and yes my name is Nathaniel and no you may not call me Nate’

I watch the taxi as it drives away and a part of me wants to chase it and go back to California but my mom grabs my hand and we walk towards the front door to start our new life.

But before we walk over the threshold my eyes once more look over to that big old tree.

There is something about that tree that i can’t put my finger on,it is just a tree but it makes me afraid very afraid.

But any thoughts about a creepy tree leave my mind when i walk inside my new house.

I run from from room to room like an excited puppy

Until dad tells me to go outside and wait for the removers to arrive.

Oh yeah,my dad’s name is Ben Seagar and he is the reason why we had to move east.

He taught english at a college back home but apparently he got an offer too good to refuse

So here we are in Providence Rhode Island.

As i sit on the front porch i get a feeling that i am being watched.

I take a quick look over my shoulder but there is nothing there but a branch from that tree.

I have another look and the branch is no longer there.

God my imagination is really going crazy and i tell myself to settle down and stop being stupid.

But than again that tree is over thirty metres from the house so how could a branch be so close to the house?

My mom calls out that it is time for lunch so i run back inside to grab a bite to eat

And just as we finish eating our ham and cheese sandwiches i hear the a truck driving up the driveway.

The removalist’s are here.

So we go inside and help the driver unload the truck but all i manage to do is to get in the way.

So once again i am banished to the front porch.

But i soon cheer up when i see my bed getting carried upstairs to my room at least i will be nice and comfortable tonight.

My happiness doesn’t last long because that branch begins to tap on the side of the porch.

I look at that creepy tree and the ends of the branch look a lot like human fingers.

‘Mom that tree is starting to gross me out i think it wants to eat me’

Don’t be silly Nathaniel it is just an old oak tree that was probably planted by the settlers two hundred years ago’

The following weeks fly by as i settle into my new school and i have made a few friends.

Life is good in Providence Rhode Island.

And that creepy old oak tree is almost forgotten.

Soon it is almost July when i will celebrate my 11 th birthday.

My parents tell me that they will be holding a party to mark the occasion and i can invite all my friends from school and dad will ask all our neighbours to come.

I said half jokingly’I don’t care who comes as long as they bring lots and lots of presents’

The big day arrives and mom is in the kitchen while dad is outside cleaning up the yard and he asks me to help him carry a table and some chairs under that old oak tree.

And for the first time in weeks i look at that old tree and my bone marrow freezes and my heart feels like it is going to explode ‘Dad i don’t feel so good,maybe we should cancel the party’

Dad laughs and ruffles my ruffles my hair’Don’t worry you are just nervous and as soon as your friends get here you will be as right as rain’

As usual dad is right because as soon as my friends Simon Brendan and Adam arrive we started to play and have a good time and soon all of my worries vanished  from my mind.

When it is time to eat everyone takes a seat and we all enjoy burgers and hotdogs that dd made on the BBQ.

My friends and i are wearing party hats and smiles ten miles wide and talking about baseball and all the pretty girls at school.

But i am also thinking about opening my presents and mom’s famous chocolate cake.

And sure enough the screen door slams open and mom is walking toward me carrying a huge birthday cake.

She puts it on the table lights 11 candles and tells me to make a wish.

So i close my eyes and silently wish for mom and dad to live forever and for peace on earth.

I know i should have stopped there but i have a few more wishes so i wish for lots and lots of money and good health.

But the one thing i wish the most is for that creepy old oak tree to just go away.

I want to open my presents but mom shoo’s me away so that she can clean up.

So my friends and i run around and play for an hour until we are dying of thirst.

But all we really want is more cake.

So we get some drinks from the cooler and more cake and sit around the table laughing and swearing like sailors.

Simon gets up to grab another slice of cake when he trips on a root and falls hard’Why you shit eating piece of pond scum trip me will you’ Simon yells at the tree but he is trying not to laugh.

We are also cracking up at Simon and his choice of language

Simon goes to give that tree a kick when his foot is grabbed by the root and held tight.

‘What the fuck’ Simon says as he struggles to free himself.I tell Brendan and Adam to go and get some help while i try to release Simon from the roots hold.

But as soon as i get close a root closes around my throat and starts to squeeze

Holy shit,i soon realise that i am in a lot of trouble and soon sink to my knees but then i remember the pocket knife in my jacket.

I pull it out and start to cut and hack at the root and just when i think that i am a gonna i somehow break free.

Simon is hysterical and screaming for help but than i hear a crack and look up to see a huge branch crashing down

I jump out of the way just in time but Simon isn’t so lucky and is crushed.

The adults come running outside but there is nothing that they can do.

911 is called and soon there are cops and paramedics everywhere

Mom guides me inside away from the grisly scene.

I am incoherent and can barely function.

A doctor examines me and soon i am given a sedative and drift away to sleep

When i wake mom tells me that the police are here and wants me to answer some questions about the accident.

I want to tell them that it wasn’t an accident and that my friend was murdered by the creepy tree.

But they would think that i was crazy and cart me away to the loony bin.

So i tell them that we were just playing when the branch came down and soon the police leave me alone with my feelings.

Mom soon comes to see if i am alright.

And i tell her that i am feeling better but that i have something very important to tell her.

So she sits on the edge of my bed and i start to talk’Mom it wasn’t an accident i saw the tree root reach out and grab Simon so he couldn’t get away’

The root also tried to kill me mom i am telling you it was murder’

I point out of my bedroom window where that old tree is looking all sweet and innocent’Please mom can we go back home to California?’

Mom gives me a kiss and wipes away my tears ‘Oh Nathaniel you are just distressed by your friend getting killed’

‘But i tell you what i will talk to your father about getting that tree cut down’

A few days later a truck pulls in next to the house and four men jump out.

Dad goes outside to greet them while i stay in my room and watch.

The workers remove axes chainsaws and some rope from the back of the truck and prepare to chop the killer tree down.

But first they stand around smoking and drinking coffee talking about god knows what.

They watch them jabbering for about five minutes until i cant stand it no more

I scream out my window’Hey assholes stop jerking around and get to work’

I look that tree right in the eye’Cut that fucker down and do it now’

The workers look up at me in surprise and stop there talking and get to work.

The chainsaws roar into live and one of the workers starts to cut but the machine gives out a screech and dies a death.

Hey Randy this tree is one tough mother i think it is time for the ‘beast’

The guy named Randy emerges from the truck holding what must be the biggest chainsaw in all of Rhode Island.

It is almost as big as the workers

Randy hands over the ‘beast’ and soon the sound of five Harley Davidsons fill the air.

I cover my ears as the ‘beast’ goes to work.

But soon i hear a loud snap and through a shower of sparks i see that the chain has broken and over a hundred deadly links are flying towards the house.

‘NO’ I scream but i know that it is useless.

I turn away as i hear both of my parents being ripped to shreds.

I am currently a resident of an orphanage in upstate New York

It is called an orphanage but really it is a home for lost and broken souls

I am sedated most of the time so my mind cant go back to that horrible day when i lost my mom and dad.

But through the haze i still remember.

I was told by a kind nurse in one of my more lucid moments that my parents were buried together back home in California.

I am happy that they will be with each other for eternity.

Now that i am alone in the world with no one to love and no one to love me.

I come to a decision.

I ask the kind nurse if she could drive me to the house in Providence so i can get some closure.

But mainly i want to confront that tree.

As the nurse drives she tells me all about herself and how happy she is with her life.

I am happy for her but it is time for me to enter the next world.

When she drives up the driveway i am aware of the sense of danger in the air.

And there isn’t a sound even the birds and animals know to give this place a wide berth.

Than without a word i walk toward that creepy old oak tree.

The tree opens its branches and bends down to welcome me.

I take my final breath and walk to my death.

I am engulfed and gladly go to my demise.

Now i am where i want to be

Revenge will be mine.

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and now if you could make a donation so that i can realize my dream of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

THE END

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Albuquerque Turkey

13 Saturday Jan 2018

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

albuquerque, new mexico, revenge, smoke signals, turkey, war dance

Over in Albuquerque new mexico there is tension in the air.

People walk the streets in trepidation because they sense that something is going down.

Nobody knows who how or why.

But there is one thing for certain feathers are about to fly.

 

If you travel south from Albuquerque the suburbs gradually give way to agriculture and you will arrive at a small town named los lunas.

The area is dotted with apple groves and peach orchards but los lunas is mainly known for its turkey farms and processing plants.

Where they process over 500,000 birds everyday.

But for the people in and around Albuquerque there will soon be hell to pay

 

gobble gobble gobble

 

In an isolated turkey farm a female bird is sitting near the perimeter fence crying and shaking in distress.

All of her friends have disappeared one by one and she hasn’t got a clue where they have gone or why they haven’t come back.

Then she hears a scratching sound from the woodland near a dusty trail.

She looks up as a male turkey steps into view and he is looking in her direction.

He wanders over for a gander and to see what all the crying is about.

The female is sitting all lonely weeping and sobbing in the dirt.

While the male walks a little closer and by the way his name is Bert.

 

gobble gobble gobble

 

The female who is named Hilda is shy at first but she soon opens up and tells the male turkey about her friends who have vanished.

She tells him how her friends were all loaded onto trucks and driven away to god knows where.

As the female turkey continues to talk( they tend to do this a lot) Bert gets a funny feeling beneath his skin.

And it isn’t from the stuffing or constant basting.

He needs to get to the bottom of this right now and time is wasting.

 

Bert knows that the trucks hold the answer to the vanishing turkeys.

Maybe the turkeys have just gone on a day trip or are visiting relatives in California?

But than again why don’t they ever come back?

He reaches out a wing towards the fence to pat Hilda goodbye when he blown back twenty foot.

He tumbles head over parsons nose and lands with a heavy thud.

Hilda calls out ‘Sorry I forgot to tell you that the fence is electrified.’ Bert cant answer because he has been roasted baked and totally fucking fried.

 

gobble gobble gobble

 

But Bert is made from giblets of steel so he just shakes his drumsticks and slowly gets to his feet.

His wattle and snood turn red in anger and defiance and smoke appears from beneath his tail feathers.

With a wave to Hilda he waddles off towards his home in Arizona and as he walks he keeps an eye out for a wily coyote.

When he gets home he will report back to his boss colonel guajolote.

 

Colonel guajolote is the biggest meanest turkey in the while mid west.

He stands four foot tall with a body scarred from many fights and battles.

The colonel also sports a patch over his left eye from sticking his nose in where it doesn’t belong.

At the moment he is annoyed after been awoken from his midday slumber but he listens intently as Bert his messenger tells him about the goings on over in Albuquerque.

His snood has turned deep purple and his wattle bobbles around performing a little war dance.

He silences Bert with a deadly stare as he gazes in the direction of new mexico.

His enemies will never forget the destruction that he is about to bring.

The fight hasn’t started yet but the bell is about to ring.

 

gobble gobble gobble

 

Early the next morning a band of wild turkeys march off in formation towards the battlefields over near Albuquerque.

They know that they are marching into battle but they are all seasoned veterans.

So the turkeys all moved forward with their chests puffed out and with feathers freshly preened.

The turkeys stick to the back roads and forest tracks as they head west.

These birds aren’t over stuffed or under baked they are the best of the best.

 

When they reach the farm two days later Bert warns colonel guajolote and the other turkeys about the electrified fence.

Their feathers stand on end as static fills the air and they stand at attention waiting for further orders.

Colonel guajolote realises that they can’t go through or under the fence so he will have to come up with a different plan of attack.

Because not only is the colonel big and mean and mighty unclean but he is also the most battle savvy bird in the flock.

To colonel guajolote there is no such thing as a roadblock.

 

gobble gobble gobble

 

The thirty odd turkeys hide in the underbrush as they watch the farm with binoculars.

Every now and then a truck will pull in and leave with a full load of healthy looking birds

Where do they go ?And why don’t they ever return?

Colonel guajolote shakes his head in frustration as he watches the truck drive away.

He is getting too old for this shit all he ever wanted was a loving wife and a field full of corn.

But here he is running around like Jason freaking Bourne.

 

He mightn’t be Jason Bourne but he is still one mean mother plucker.

And he wont rest until he finds the missing turkeys so he tells his warrior turkeys to keep watching the farm.

While he takes a ride on one of the trucks to see where they go to

So when the next truck starts to pull out he jumps up and hitches a ride.

 

When he looks at the turkeys on the truck he notices that they aren’t happy at all.

They are crammed into crates where they cant move eat or drink.

The colonels blood begins to boil as he looks at his fellow turkeys looking all sad and forlorn.

Then the air brakes sound the truck has reached its destination.

The colonels heart burns in his chest with a sinking sensation.

 

gobble gobble gobble

 

Straightaway he smells the stench of blood shit and death and he hangs his head in distress

He now knows why none of the turkeys ever return home.

Soon the crates of turkeys are unloaded by a forklift and disappear inside the factory.

The colonel takes a deep breath as he waddles toward the front door.

The turkeys pain and suffering digs deep in his craw.

 

When he opens the door he has a quick look around then puts on a white coat and a hair net and makes his way over to reception.

The receptionist looks up to see the ugliest man she has ever seen approach the counter.

Hello my name is Gilbert Guajolote from the Albuquerque  Health Board and I am here to inspect the facilities.’

The receptionist checks the appointments for the day”I am sorry but there is nothing here about any inspection today’

The colonel stands up straight and leans over the counter ‘Of course there isn’t so please go and inform the manager that I am here and make it snappy’

The receptionist smiles but she isn’t very happy.

 

gobble gobble gobble

 

A harried looking man soon arrives and is taken aback by the appearance of the inspector,surely he is the ugliest man on the planet.

‘Sorry for the delay my name is Harry Bastingwand please follow me’

Colonel guajolote breathes deep and steps over the threshold.

But the sight before him soon stops him in his tracks.

Hundreds and hundreds of dead featherless turkeys swing above the production line.

The colonel soon recovers and faces his fallen comrades with a quivering beak.

He raises a wing in a heartfelt salute turns on his heels and gets the fuck out of that murderous place.

Tome would surely stop if it saw the look on his face.

 

Once outside the colonel looks up to the heavens and screams a mighty war cry.

It echoes up and down the hills and valleys in new mexico Arizona and some say it was heard in Nevada and down to texas.

All of the wild turkeys in those states look to the sky and listen to the call to arms from the head of all turkeys.

A cry for freedom from down near Albuquerque.

 

gobble gobble gobble

 

Colonel guajolote is in a rage as he continues to scream for help.

But he is afraid that his cries might not be heard by all of his allies so he climbs to the summit of the sandia peak tramway and builds himself a huge funeral pyre.

He covers himself in warpaint and dances around the fire until it dies down to embers.

Then he slowly flaps his wings amongst the wisps of smoke.

He flaps and sways until the tendrils of smoke start to form words.

The words are seen by the all of the turkeys in the united states.

Hopefully the turkeys will spring into action before it is too late.

 

Along the width and breadth of north America the words of smoke are seen by over 50 million wild turkeys.

Who soon form themselves into armies of birds,they storm turkey farms and processing plants and set free their captive friends.

 

gobble gobble gobble

 

On the streets of America there is complete and utter chaos

It is almost thanksgiving and all of the TV networks are reporting a shortage this year in fact there are none to be had.

Supermarkets and convenience stores are bombarded by customers trying to keep the tradition alive.

They want turkey and they want it now but all stores have no turkeys this season.

All of the turkeys have escaped and are hiding in the undergrowth away from their tormentors and foes.

 

Colonel guajolote is one satisfied turkey.

He is now old and is enjoying his retirement.

His grandchildren keep him busy but he wouldn’t want it any other way.

He is proud of his achievements  and on thanksgiving every year he raises a glass to all of  the fallen turkeys.

All is well down near Albuquerque.

 

gobble gobble gobble

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and if you have the means could you please make a donation so i can realize my dream of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

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Stinger ( Part Two )

09 Saturday Sep 2017

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

america, drugs, genetics, mexico, revenge, stinger, wasp

In part one of this story i introduced you to El Groucho the meanest baddest drug smuggler in Mexico.

El Groucho had been smuggling drugs into America for decades but over  the last year or so all of his efforts have been thwarted by the american authorities.

So he came up with a very cunning plan.

He kidnapped an genetic scientist and his family and held them for ransom.

The scientist was told to come up with a way to smuggle drugs that was invisible to radar or his family would be killed.

After a week of trial and tribulation he finally came up with the idea of genetically modifying a wasp.

A wasp that at first was the size of a sparrow but now has grown to the size of a small plane.

The modified wasp started flying back and forth between Mexico and America delivering saddlebags full of cocaine to the american public and bringing back millions of dollars to El Groucho.

But during the long lonely flights the wasp started to dip its stinger into the saddlebags sampling the product.

And pretty soon the modified wasp was addicted.

Back in his compound El Groucho after having the scientist and hid family murdered.

Was busy counting his money when the modified wasp crashed through his living room wall killing a Few of El Groucho’s henchmen.

While El Groucho narrowly escaped by the skin of his teeth and made his way to a secret fortress near the pico de orizaba mountain.

And the modified flew off with his saddlebags full of cocaine.

Part Two.

The modified wasp has almost reached Texas feeling strung out a little bit worse for the weather.

Its saddlebags are empty and it desperately needs some relief.

The wasp is now the size of a large glider and is just as silent and like a stealth bomber it is invisible to radar,

With a stinger as long as a javelin and as thick as a mans arm

It is a weapon of enormous proportions a weapon of death.

The wasp starts to feel a little nostalgic as it comes in for a landing.

He never knew his mother but he knows that she was born in this neck of the woods.

So this is the perfect place to recuperate and rid his body from the drug dependency.

He lands near a large cave and crawls inside to cleanse his body and mind.

Then he closes his eyes and enters a state of hibernation.

As the wasp sleeps he shakes and shivers as his body screams out for a fix.

But he is not alone because all of the local insects come out to lend a helping hand.

They tend to all of his needs as he goes through cold turkey.

Two weeks later the wasp opens his eyes to the start of a brand new life

It crawls out of the cave and starts to beat his wings getting ready for takeoff.

And as he prepares to take to the sky he has only two things on his mind.

Rid America and Mexico from the scourge of drugs and to find and kill El Groucho.

At his fortress in the north of Mexico El Groucho is busy setting up a new operation.

He is still recovering from his encounter with the modified wasp but he is determined to once again be a major player in the drug trade.

After all the Americans still need to feed their habits and El Groucho is more than happy to supply their misery.

The wasp has just entered Mexican airspace when his stinger starts to twirl and twist it has honed in on a drug making warehouse.

The wasp lands silently on the roof of the warehouse and using its stinger like a can opener it peels back the corrugated iron.

It looks down onto the workers below as they bag up kilo after kilo of cocaine

Then it drops down like a blood thirsty bumble bee.

It lands with a thud in the middle of the room and the bagger’s scatter in all directions.

But the wasp isn’t interested in them they are just peasant folk trying to feed their families.

All of his concentration is on four guards armed with machine guns.

Soon the bullets are flying and the wasp is hit by over twenty rounds but they have little affect.

Because the wasps body has also modified it is now a two inch thick combination of kevlar and carbon steel.

It is on the guards with lightning speed and they are all despatched with a single bite.

Then the wasp opens the bags of cocaine with its stinger beats its wings as fast as a hummingbird and the cocaine is gone with the wind.

Then the wasp fills its saddlebags with all of the drug money sets fire to the warehouse and takes off.

Once outside the wasp swoops down low over a local village  and empties the saddlebags that contain almost one million dollars.

All of the people race outside and fill their pockets with the money sent from heaven.

They have never seen so much money now they will be able to feed and clothe their families for years.

In the following months the wasp flies all over Mexico destroying every drug operation that it comes across.

Burning the drugs and raining down millions of dollars on the poor folk below.

And of course all of this activity hasn’t gone unnoticed by the media.

Television stations all over the country are reporting the story of a strange flying creature that is destroying drug operations and making the poor rich with money from the heavens.

The modified wasp is fast becoming something of a hero to the masses.

And the press have even given the creature a name ‘El Saviour’

But not all people are happy with the activities of ‘El Saviour’

Up in his fortress El Groucho is seething as he watches his TV with his eyes ablaze.

Something will have to be done about this ‘El Saviour’ so he picks up an encrypted phone and makes some calls.

He is calling his fellow drug barons who control the drug trade in Mexico.

They are all losing money hand over fist and they will stop at nothing to stop this ‘El Saviour’

And they agree to meet El Groucho at his fortress in three days time.

One by one the drug lords arrive at an airport fifty miles from the fortress  and they all board a helicopter supplied by El Groucho.

And they takeoff towards their destiny.

The drug lords are relaxing with shots of tequila  talking about ways to rid themselves from the menace of ‘El Saviour’

When from the corner of his eye the pilot notices an incoming threat.

A huge wasp is racing towards the helicopter and the pilot screams at his passengers to strap themselves in.

But his warning comes way too late.

‘El Saviour comes in low and fast and before the passengers can move he runs his stinger along the side of the copter.

And opens it up like a can of beans.

A few of the passengers are sucked out and slam into the rotor blades while the rest pray to their maker as the helicopter goes into free fall and hits the ground.

In his fortress El Groucho sees the flames on the side side of the mountain and his knees start to buckle.

He looks at the huge fireball and knows that he is in big trouble ‘El Saviour’ is nearby looking for a fight.

Bring it on motherfucker.

The modified wasp know that El Groucho is nearby but it is not quite sure where.

He waves his stinger and tastes the air trying to pick up a scent.

And sure enough he picks up a smell the smell of fear.

He gets his bearings and flies toward a fortress a mile away.

El Groucho is waiting for an attack and he isn’t surprised when a huge wasp appears on the horizon.

But he is surprised by the sheer size of it.

The wasp is now the size of a airliner and coming in fast.

El Groucho waits for the wasp to get within firing range

He puts a surface to air missile launcher to his shoulder takes aim and fires.

But the missile is deflected by the wasp and it loses its course and heads back towards the fortress.

‘Holy shit’ El Groucho screams as the missile streaks toward him

He runs as fast as he can but is still inside when the missile hits the fortress.

But once again luck is on El Grouchos side and he crawls outside virtually unscathed.

The fortress is now nothing more than a pile of rubble and El Groucho crawls toward a land rover to make an escape.

But he doesn’t get very far when ‘El Saviour comes in hard and fast and impales El Groucho in the thigh.

And carries him off toward the pico de arizaba mountain.

An active volcano.

El Groucho is wriggling like a fish caught on a hook as the modified wasp hovers above the crater.

Then the wasp points his stinger earthward and El Groucho falls into the molten lava.

El Groucho screams all the way down he cant believe that he has been defeated by a creature that he helped create.

His screams stop as he hits the lave and becomes nothing but ash.

The modified wasp smiles with satisfaction with a job well done

And in a heartbeat he is gone.

Destination unknown

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories now if you have the means could you please make a donation so i can realize my dream of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

THE END

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Shoeshine ( The Sin Away )

19 Saturday Aug 2017

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

black, chicago, revenge, serial killer, shoeshine, soul

It is a cold windy day in Chicago Illinois and a fourteen year old African American boy is about to start his first day at work.

The year is 1950 and Calvin Jackson is excited to be following in his grandfathers footsteps.

 

His grandfather Melvin has been shining shoes for over fifty years.

But now his health isn’t the best so he has decided to pass on his skills to his favourite grandson.

 

Calvin has been living with his grandparents for most of his life.

His mother abandoned him soon after he was born and his father didn’t want anything to do with him.

So Calvin was raised by his loving grandparents.

 

Calvin loves his grandparents dearly and they love him like a son.

They brought him up to treat people with respect and to do the right thing.

But Calvin hasn’t been completely honest with them.

He has a secret.

 

Since he can remember he has had the ability to touch and object belonging to someone and sensing that persons thoughts and feelings.

He can see into their very soul.

 

Calvin has never told anybody about this ability.

He doesn’t want people to know because they might think that he is some sort of freak or something.

Plus it isn’t easy being African American this Calvin learnt from an early age.

So he keeps his eyes down and minds his own business.

 

He knows that he has a special talent but all he wants right now is to make his grandfather proud.

So when his grandfather wakes him and tells him that it is time for breakfast.

Calvin jumps out of bed and eats his bacon and eggs excited about the day ahead.

Then he follows his grandfather out the door.

 

They catch a train to Melvin’s shoeshine stand just outside the subway.

The perfect spot to catch people on their way to work.

Calvin watches as his grandfather arranges his brushes and clothes ready for his first customer.

Melvin Jackson is the best shoeshine man in all of Chicago.

 

Calvin sits near his grandfather and watches his every move as he polishes and shines shoes to a high gloss.

Melvin is in his element as shines shoes and chats to his regular customers.

Then it is Calvin’s turn.

 

Melvin hands him the brush and takes a seat and settles down to read the newspaper with one eye and the other on his grandson.

When Calvin touches the brush he is glad to feel that his grandfather is happy and looking forward to his retirement.

Where he will spend his time building model trains and getting under the feet of his loving wife.

 

Calvin is nervous when his first customer takes his seat at the shoeshine stand.

But he is a natural as he shines shoes it is like he has been doing it for years.

When he touches the shoes he doesn’t feel anything untoward or threatening and the customer leaves a good tip and goes on his way.

 

His next customer takes a seat and precedes to tell Calvin his life story.

Calvin smiles and nods his head in all the right times to keep his customer happy.

Because the number one rule in the shoeshine business is to ensure that the customer leaves satisfied with the service.

Because then he will come back again and again.

 

Calvin’s first few weeks on the job pass without incident.

He shines the shoes of all comers whether it is a lawyer thinking about his day in court.

A businessman thinking about how to close a deal or just your average joe on his way to another work day.

 

Then a month later an ordinary man takes a seat and Calvin decides to try something different.

So he grasps a shoelace like he is holding a rosary bead and his fingers feel for good or bad vibrations.

And he looks deep inside the customer soul looking for anything sinister or worse.

 

Calvin smiles and says ‘good morning’ and gets to work.

But as soon as his fingers grasp one of the laces he is almost jolted back out of his seat.

His pulse quickens and he starts to sweat.

This guy is trouble.

 

Calvin acts like nothing is amiss and keeps on shining as he gazes deeper into the soul.

The customer is oblivious to the intrusion as Calvin goes about his business.

There is trouble at home.

Calvin delves even deeper and the customer starts to squirm in his seat ‘What are you doing boy?’

Calvin looks into the mans eyes and replies ‘Whatever the trouble you are having at home can all be worked out’

‘Get some marriage guidance or get a divorce but don’t take a life because you are unhappy’

 

None of Calvin’s words are spoken out loud they are spoken from soul to soul.

Calvin just hopes that his words have sunk in and that the man will go home and sort out his problems.

 

Calvin finishes his shining and the free advice and the man stands up and pulls out his wallet and hands Calvin a crisp one dollar bill.

‘Thanks boy I don’t know what you did but I feel like a weight has been lifted from my body’

With that he walks away.

 

Over the next few months Calvin deals with all sorts of normal and troubled souls.

And he does his best to shine shoes and  to give some friendly unspoken advice.

And he does it all with a smile on his face and goes home  satisfied but tired.

He didn’t realise that shining shoes would be so mentally draining.

But when you look deep into troubled souls it takes a lot out of you.

And he has trouble sleeping because his mind never shuts down.

 

All that Calvin wanted was to make his grandfather proud and be the best shoeshine boy in the neighbourhood.

But he now knows that he has become more than that.

He is now a soothsayer a soul healer for the common man.

But it is all starting to become too much.

 

Over the weekend doesn’t know if he can carry on or not so he visits his grandfather and tells him of his special ability and how it is starting to mess with his mind.

Melvin looks at him like he is the second coming of Christ and tells Calvin that he has been given a gift and that he should he should carry on helping people if he can.

 

So first thing Monday morning Calvin jumps out of bed packs his bag and goes to work.

Calvin loves to shine shoes and help people in need.

He is what he is.

 

Gary Wayne Debois is a serial killer.

But today he isn’t thinking about killing all he wants is to eat some breakfast and get his shoes shined.

Then he can get down to business the business of killing.

 

He remembers an old man and his shoeshine stand outside of the train station so he heads towards the subway.

And when he arrives he is greeted by a teenage negro boy waiting for his first customer of the day,

Debois tells the boy that the last time that he was here an old man shined his shoes and Calvin explains that that was his grandfather who is now retired.

Debois says ‘D o the family proud boy ‘ and takes a seat not knowing that the shoeshine boy is about to look into his soul and beyond.

 

When the man is comfortable Calvin starts rubbing with his cloth and takes hold of a lace.

He looks deep into the mans soul but doesn’t see a thing.

It is like looking into a bottomless pit.

 

Calvin closes his eyes and once again he tries to enter the belly of the beast.

But again he sees nothing but black like riding a train through a tunnel to hell.

 

Then Calvin is brought back to reality when he is kicked in the head ‘What the fuck are you doing boy? Just shine my shoes and make it fucking snappy’

Calvin shines as fast as he can so this man can get out of his life.

He knows that he is dealing with a very dangerous individual so he finishes quickly and with his head bowed waits for his tip.

 

Debois stands up throws a coin on the ground at Calvin’s feet and walks away muttering obscenities.

 

A few weeks later Calvin is shining the shoes of a customer when Debois comes back and he grabs hold of the customer and tells him to get out of his way.

He takes a seat and tells Calvin to ‘Hurry the fuck up I haven’t got all fucking day’

Calvin gets to work and once again tries to enter the mans soul but again he is denied.

Than Calvin has an idea if he can somehow take the mans laces home maybe he can look into the soul without being in the mans presence.

 

Hey mister both of your laces are just about worn out I can replace them both free of charge’

Calvin looks up into the mans face with hope ‘Well what are you fucking waiting for boy?’

Calvin quickly changes the laces and the man goes on his way.

 

Riding the subway home Calvin can feel the weight of the laces in his pocket.

He touches them and searches for the mans inner being.

He gets in but the connection is weak.

The man is driving down the highway and he has just picked up a female hitch hiker.

Unfortunately for Calvin his train is travelling in the opposite direction to the mans car and the connection is broken.

 

Calvin arrives home with his mind in turmoil he paces back and forth in his room wondering what to do.

Then he sits on his bed and unties his laces and attaches them to the mans laces

Maybe there will be some sort of connection?

 

And there is it is like watching a silent movie.

Calvin now knows who he is dealing with Gary Wayne Debois is a serial killer who the police have been trying to catch for over a decade.

He has been linked to over twenty murders.

But Calvin can see that the number is closer to fifty.

 

Calvin notices that the girl has her hands tied behind her with the same laces that Calvin tied to the mans shoes a few hours ago.

So hopefully his aura is still attached to them.

Maybe just maybe.

 

Calvin grips his laces tight concentrates and whispers into the girls ear and smiles when her eyes open in shock ‘My name is Calvin and I am here to try and help you.I am going to try to loosen the laces binding your hands nod your head if you understand”

The frightened girl slowly nods her head.

 

Calvin closes his eyes and grips his laces even tighter and the girl starts to wriggles in the car seat ‘Try not to move too much or the man will know that something is up when the laces are loose nod your head’

And once again the girl nods her head.

 

OK now tell the man that you have to go to the bathroom real bad’

Calvin can see the girl talking to the man but Debois gives her a backhander and tells her to ‘Shut the fuck up bitch we are almost at your final resting place but I am going to have a little fun first.

The girl is scared out of her wits and her urine flows down her legs and the smell hits Debois’s nose.

‘Why you filthy bitch” he pulls the car near an abandoned building and drags her from the car by her hair.

From his pocket he pulls out a knife exposes the girls throat and is about to cut her open from ear to ear.

The girl desperately rakes at the mans face with her nails and it gives Calvin a few vital seconds.

 

He knows that it is now or never he wasn’t able to enter the mans soul but maybe he can enter his heart.

Calvin closes his eyes and squeezes the laces and squeezes hard on the mans heart.

And as Debois and the girl struggle Calvin squeezes one last time and Debois grabs his chest and falls to the ground dead.

 

The girl whispers ‘Thank You ” to Calvin who falls asleep completely exhausted.

 

Two days later at the city morgue a body is lying on a gurney when a foot starts to twitch.

Then the man sits up and takes in his surroundings and he smiles.

Gary Wayne Debois is alive and well and he only has one thing on his mind.

REVENGE.

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories now if you have the means could you please make a donation so i can finally become a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

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Stinger

17 Saturday Jun 2017

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

cocaine, drugs, mexico, revenge, stinger, wasp

In southern Texas not far from the Mexican border a desperate scientist is looking

for a wasp.

And not just any wasp but a large female tarantula hawk.

A wasp known for its aggressiveness and large stinger.

 

The reason the scientist is desperate is because he is working for a dangerous drug smuggler from Mexico.

This smuggler is named El Groucho he is mean and nasty without any good bones in his body.

He has been sneaking drugs into America for over a decade but lately all of his attempts

from been thwarted by the US authorities.

So he has come up with a cunning plan instead of digging under the border he will fly over it.

So he has decided to use genetically modified wasps as drug mules.

 

That is where the scientist comes in.

His family was kidnapped by El Groucho a few weeks ago and if the scientist doesn’t genetically modify a wasp into a drug smuggler his family will be killed.

The scientist’s name is Dr Michael Chapman and he is the most respected genetic scientist in the USA.

 

El Groucho’s crazy idea is to have an aggressive female tarantula hawk wasp mated with a male mexican wasp known for its endurance and its temper.

But most of all for its extra large stinger.

So El Groucho is hoping to have the two nasty wasps offspring genenetically modified into drug smugglers with large stingers to fight off eagles and others large prey and to deliver the drugs to the american public at large.

 

Up in Laredo the scientist has finally located a female tarantula hawk and is on his way back to El Groucho’s compound in Nuevo Juarez Mexico.

The scientist thinks that El Groucho should be called El Loco instead because his plan is crazy and diabolical.

But he will do anything to save his wife and two children so he puts his foot down and drives towards Mexico.

 

He arrives at the compound four hours later and El Groucho rush’es him inside and orders him to get to work immediately.

The scientist refuses and tells El Groucho that he want start until he knows that hi family is safe.

So El Groucho orders one of his henchman to bring the family to him immediately.

And a few minutes later the scientist is reunited with his family where they hug and kiss for a while until his family is taken away and he is taken downstairs where a rudimentary laboratory has been set up.

 

The scientist has a look around and cant believe that El Groucho expects him to work under these conditions.

But he knows that he hasn;t got any choice so he puts the box containing the female wasp on a table and gets to work.

He looks over to a small glass enclosure about three foot square where a small male wasp is buzzing around.

He captures  the wasp and extracts a few drops of sperm from its body.

He places the male back into the enclosure and gets to work.

 

The scientist examines and modifies the sperm day and night for two days until he is satisfied.

He has one last look under the microscope and than tell s the henchman to summin El Groucho.

El Groucho enters the lab and congratulates the scientist and watches while the sperm is injected into the female.

The female is placed into the enclosure with the male wasp where they quickly size each other up.

 

The scientist is going crazy while he waits for the female to lay her eggs.

But two days later she goes to the corner of the enclosure and deposits three little eggs on the glass.

The male comes flies over to inspect the situation but is quickly stung multiple times by the female and quickly devoured.

 

The scientist and El Groucho are both disappoited by the size of the eggs.

All three of the eggs appear normal and the scientist knows that his family are now in very deep trouble.

Than the female falls to the bottom of the enclosure  where she starts to expand.

She continues to grow and grow until she explodes in a cloud of blood and guts.

 

What emerges is a large wasp about the size of a sparrow who bash’es against the glass trying to escape.

It continues to grow and is now the size of  a dove with a mean temper and a stinger the size of a mans finger.

El Groucho orders the scientist to put his arm into the enclosure and pull the wasp out.

The scientist isn’t to keen with this idea but he has little choice when the henchman comes up behind him brandishing a large machete.

 

The scientist Puts his arm inside the enclosure and is quickly stung by the large stinger.

He grimaces in pain but he places the wasp on the table where it looks at the humans in curiosity.

El Groucho feels like frankenstein  with his monster but he looks down at that wasp and starts to talk. “You are my creation and i am your master you will obey my every command and smuggle drugs to america  until i tell you to stop ,do you understand?’

The wasp who has now grown to the size of a falcon nods its head in understanding.

 

The scientist is in a bad way and is struggling to breathe.

He can do nothing but stare in horror as is family is brought to him and are slaughtered in cold blood by the henchman’s machete.

The scientist takes his final breath and he along with his family are dragged outside and dumped in the backyard.

 

For three months the wasp flies back and forth from Texas and Mexico delivering its evil wares.

Every time it returns it feeds on the scientist and his family has his saddlebags replenished and takes off for america once again.

 

On its way back to america the modified wasp is caught in a storm where it is battered by the wind and rain.

One of the saddlebags burst open and over a kilo of cocaine enters its system.

The wasp savours the taste of the drug and it immediately wants more.

It puts its stinger into the saddlebag and has another taste.

 

The wasp alters course and heads back to Mexico and his master.

It continues to have taste after taste of the drug until its brain becomes damaged by the drug.

The wasp who is now the size of an albatross with a stinger the size of a baseball bat is now on a rampage.

 

El Groucho and the henchman are in the compound counting all the dirty money when the wall comes crashing in.

They both look but cant believe what they are seeing.

The wasp has grown into enormous proportions it is now the size of a large dog and it is still growing.

Its stinger is now as long and thick as a mans leg.

 

The henchman swings his machete but with little impact.

The wasps exoskeleton is now armour plated with a two inch thick skin of steel.

It hovers over El Groucho and the henchman

Then it strikes.

 

The henchman is impaled on the giant stinger and is injected with venom and his insides quickly turn to mush.

The wasp sucks up his liquid lunch and with a burp of satisfaction he releases the dried up husk.

Than the wasp turns its attention to El Groucho.

 

But El Groucho is nowhere to be seen.

While the wasp was having its meal he made his escape.

The wasp is pissed off that it cant have a proper revenge.

So it digs once more into the saddlebags and has another taste.

Next stop Texas.

 

Part two is coming soon so stay tuned.

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories now if you have the means could you please make a donation so i can make a donation so i can realize my dream of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

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Murder Of Crowes

08 Saturday Apr 2017

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, stories

≈ 2 Comments

Tags

attack, black crowes, blood, murder, revenge

‘Jesus Christ,is that freaking clock going backwards?’

It is the last day before the summer break.

And the clock in the classroom decides to mess with my mind.

Has time stood still?

Has the second hand frozen in place?

Finally the school bell rings and i race outside.

Summer vacation is my favourite time of the year.

Six weeks without homework and teachers.

Six weeks of sunshine and fun.

Three of my friends are waiting for me by the school gate

Kyle Coogan,Brian Jones,Dennis Steele and i have been friends since

kindergarten.

But next year we will be going to different high schools.

So this could be the last break that we spend together.

My name is Charlie Osborne and i am twelve years old.

I am almost a teenager but not quite.

If this is to be the last summer break i get to be with my friends.

I want to make the most of it.

My friends and i are just like any boys our age.

We like to go swimming,fishing and camping out in our backyards.

Sometimes we will collect tadpoles and pick blackberries.

All the normal boy stuff.

Today we decide to explore the bush land behind Kyles place.

Sometimes we will come across a kangaroo chewing on grass.

Or a goanna climbing up a tree.

But this time we see something different.

A black crow is on the ground running around in circles.

It has a broken wing and cant fly away.

I tell Kyle to go back to his house and get a box.

Maybe we can look after this bird until its wing heals.

Kyle looks at me like i am crazy ‘Fuck that it is only a crow’

He bends down and picks up a rock and throws it at the crow with all of

his might.

He misses but Brian and Dennis also start to throw rocks and stones at the crow.

Rock after rock hit the target and the bird falls to the ground.

They keep on throwing until that bird is dead.

I cant believe that my friends just did that.

But they are laughing and giving each other high fives.

I cant do anything for the bird so we run towards a water hole.

Up in the trees about twenty black crowes watch as the boys run away.

They fly from tree to tree following the boys as they wander down the

dirt track.

The crowes all have two things in common,they are all black.

And they all have murder in their eyes.

After a few hours of  swimming and skylarking around we decide to head home for something to eat.

All except Kyle who decides to stay behind and do some more swimming.

We wave to Kyle and tell him that we will be back in about an hour.

Kyle strips down to his underwear  and dives in head first.

As he swims and splashes around he doesn’t notice the crow’es gathering in the trees

above.

He continues to swim for a while but soon becomes bored.

So he decides to rest up and wait for his friends.

He spreads out his towel and starts to bake in the sun.

One of the crow’es lands on a branch just above Kyle and sizes up the situation.

Than without warning in lands on Kyle’s face with talons extended.

Kyle screams out in panic and tries to fight back but he has been taken by surprise

and he soon tires.

And before he knows what is happening both of his eyes are plucked out and swallowed

down whole.

By now Kyle is hysterical as the crow attacks his face.

Soon he goes into shock and offers little resistance.

The other crow’es descend onto Kyle and start to strip the flesh from his body.

Kyle’s body shudders as the black birds have their way.

They peck and claw at his body until he is nothing but a pile of bloody bones.

After lunch i meet up with Brian and Dennis and we make our way back to the water hole.

When we arrive Kyle is nowhere in sight.

All we see is his beach towel and his baseball cap floating in the water.

Beside the cap floats a single black feather.

We run home as fast as we can to get help.

My mother calls the police and we wait for them to arrive.

The area around the water hole is cordoned off and the police send for divers to

search the bottom.

And soon Kyle’s body is brought to the surface.

There is a gasp from the onlookers when the body comes into view.

His mother tries to run forward but is held back.

How has Kyle’s body been reduced to a skeleton in such a short time?

Was he attacked by a pack of wild dogs or is there a madman on the loose?

The police hold a police conference and tell everybody that until an autopsy

is performed.

It is best for people to be on their guard and for all of the neighbourhood kids

to stay indoors.

Brian Jones is home bored out of his mind.

It has been a week since Kyle was killed by who knows what

Brian feels sorry for Kyle,but it is summer break he needs to go out and play.

So he decides to sneak out and see how Dennis and Charlie are going.

He climbs out of his bedroom window under the cover of darkness.

Dennis only lives a few blocks away,so he will hang out for a while.

His parents want even know that he is gone.

As he walks under a street light he senses movement over his left shoulder.

When he looks back something slams into his face.

He staggers around in bewilderment with a bloodied nose and cut cheek.

Another black crow swoops down and attacks Brians face and neck.

Brian shit;s his pants and runs away in shock.

Straight into the path of a semi trailer.

The driver cant bake in time and he hits Brian full on.

The truck skids to a stop a hundred metres down the road.

The driver jumps out and races back hoping for the best but fearing the worst.

And the worst it is,

He cant believe that what he is seeing was once a living human being.

He looks away and vomits up his dinner completely covering a single black feather.

Dennis Steele is in his room crying into his pillow.

First Kyle was killed and now Brian.

Why are his friends dying?

It is school holidays we should all be having fun not cooped up inside.

When will his parents let him outside to fucking play?

Dennis knows that he has just  said the F word out loud but he doesn’t care anymore.

All he wants is for things to go back to normal again.

So that everybody can start to feel safe again.

Everything is getting to be too much for Dennis.

His nerves are shot to hell and his stomach is playing up.

And for the fifth time that day he makes his way to the bathroom.

He pulls down is pants and takes a seat waiting for nature to take its course.

When he hears a noise coming from the water below.

He looks down between his legs and sees a black bird heading for his scrotum.

He tries to jump up but he isnt quite fast enough.

The crow pecks open his ball bag and his testicles disappear down the throat of that

crazes bird.

His screams could be heard from twenty five miles away.

Inch by inch Dennis is pulled down into the toilet bowl.

His bones creak and crack and finally break as he is swallowed down into the sewers.

As Dennis enters his watery grave his parents are frantically trying to kick down the bathroom door.

And when they finally do all they see is a broken toilet

.And a single black feather.

Holt fucking Christ on a crutch.

I cant believe it.

First Kyle than Brain and now Dennis.

Who or what is killing all of my friends?

As i sit with my parents watching some TV i remember the cops telling them about finding a black feather in Dennis bathroom.

My mind goes back to that day at the water hole.

Surely it cant be about that?

Do crow’es have good memories like elephants?

They  say that elephants never forget but what about crow’es?

I tell my parents that i need to go for ride.

They try to stop me but i am gone in a flash.

I jump on my bike and race back to that waterhole.

And i soon arrive at the spot where we stoned that crow to death.

So i am so nervous my goose pimples have dimples.

I sit down in the middle of the track and wait.

All of the leaves in the trees shake and fall to the ground.

Soon i am surrounded by a green carpet and a thousand naked branches.

Is the devil coming to take me away?

Or are the black crow’es on the warpath?

I am guessing the latter but i don’t really know.

Soon the sky is full of black wings and an eerie silence.

Then twenty black birds land at my feet and start to do a war dance.

Or maybe it is a rain dance? One can only hope.

But the sky i clear there isn’t a cloud in sight.

So war it is.

One of the crow’es rushes in and attacks my left foot

I look at that crow as it grabs my little toe and tears it from my body.

And it flies back up into the trees with my twinkie in its mouth.

As i am distracted another bird attacks my other foot and another toe is swallowed

down.

It looks like these crow’es are going to kill me very slowly

Toe by toe bit by bit.

The remaining crow’es continue to walk around me in a clockwise direction.

What body part will they attack next?

‘God don’t let it be my eyes i don;t want to be blind’

And Jesus don;t let it be my willy.

I haven;t had sex yet please don;t let me die a virgin.

While i have been sitting in the dirt thinking another bird has flown in and taken a chunk out of my ear.

I don’t dare to fight back because i know that if i do the birds will go into a feeding frenzy.

So i cover my nuts with both hands put my head down and pray.

And through the pain i try to relax and hopefully the crow’es will fly away and leave me

in peace.

And not pieces.

But no such luck.

Another chunk is taken from my body

Blood is pouring from deep groves and starts to pool on the ground.

I pray to God and whisper goodbye to mum and dad.

But you know what ? Fuck that.

I jump up and scream at those fucking birds.

I tell them that i am sorry that their friend died but enough is enough.

I close my eyes and count to fifty and when i open them the birds are gone.

I turn back and start to limp home.

Than the crow’es are back.

These freaking birds swoop down in attack mode.

And they attack my head with venegance tearing out my hair strand by strand.

Holy fucking crap i am getting scalped by a bunch of birds.

Or should i say a murder of crow’es.

I cant see a thing as my blood streams down my face.

I wait for another attack but it doesn’t come.

I wipe my face with my shirt and scan my surroundings.

There isn’t any sign of the crow’es.

I pick my self up ans wander towards home.

Than a crow lands on the track just in front of me

He is obviously the ring leader.

With his chest puffed out he struts around like a peacock.

I look down at that black bird and once again i apologise for my behaviour

I will never ever harm another crow as long as i live.

The crow looks up at me with disdain.

Than he flies up and lands on my shoulder he walks over to my bleeding ear

and whispers ‘Don;t forget i know where you live’

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and now could you please make a donation so i can finally become a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

THE END.

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