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‘Creeping Crawley’

25 Saturday Sep 2021

Posted by stevenjohnno in Uncategorized

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Tags

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A strangled cry from above answers her question.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Will the Quinton’s survive their ordeal?

Will Graham be able to call for help?

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

Thanks for taking the time to read my story and if you have the means could you consider making a donation large or small so i can fulfill my dream and 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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Cereal Killer ( Part Two )

29 Saturday Oct 2016

Posted by stevenjohnno in poems, Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

constipation, decapitation, gross, shit

In part one i told you all about the cereal killers lurking in

your pantry and on the supermarket shelves.

So throw out the cereal in your pantry and leave them on the

shelf.

Because cereal really is a killer.

Part Two

Robert Summerhill is enjoying a rare day off work.

He is employed at the local sawmill but it is good to have some down time.

Robert amazingly still has all his fingers and thumbs attached.

But at the moment he isn’t thinking about work.

He is preparing his favourite breakfast.

A huge bowl of rice puffs.

Robert is 39 years old now and he has had a bowl of rice puffs every

morning since he was five.

He knows that rice puffs are really only for kids.

But he just cant help himself.

They taste so damn fine.

Like a little piece of heaven.

Robert is seated at the kitchen table enjoying his tasty treat.

But he is eating way too fast.

And one of those little rice puffs escapes his spoon and lands in

his beard.

And it burrows in deep.

After washing the dish’es Robert goes about his day.

He runs some errands and has lunch with some friends.

He returns home to mow the lawn before relaxing on the lounge.

After a few hours watching some TV he has something to eat.

Before brushing his teeth and going to bed.

Twenty minutes later there is some movement in his beard.

That little rice puff is on the march.

Slowly it makes its way up Roberts face before entering Roberts

left nostril.

But it doesn’t stop there.

It keeps on burrowing until it pierces Roberts Brain.

In the morning Robert wakes up with a splitting headache.

And a nasty nose bleed.

He takes two panadol and plugs his nostril with toilet paper.

Today is a work day so he sits down to have a bowl of rice puffs

But he isn’t feeling himself today and after a couple of spoonfuls

he pushes the bowl away.

And has a cup of coffee instead.

Driving to work Robert really isn’t feeling well.

His head is still throbbing and his nose is still bleeding.

Plus his right hand is starting to shake like it has a mind of its own.

But Robert isn’t that worried he probably just has some hay fever

or something.

Arriving at work Roberts workmates tell him that he looks like shit

and maybe he should go back home.

But Robert is the only employee with experience on the band saw.

So he decides to stay so all of the orders are filled.

Robert takes a few more panadol and walks over to the band saw and

turns it on.

All of a sudden his head feels like it is going to explode.

He is seeing spots before his eyes and his right hand is starting

to shake again.

Robert feels detached from the whole situation he is there but at the same time

he isn’t

His right hand has now taken control of his body.

Robert is powerless to stop what is about to happen

With one slice his left arm is detached at the elbow.

Than he has another go and his whole arm disappears in a blood red mist.

Robert takes one of his last breaths he climbs up onto the band saw and

severs his left leg at the thigh.

His right leg soon follows in an arterial spray.

All Robert can feel is something crawling around in his brain.

Well there is only one way to fix that problem.

So Robert lines up his head and slowly his body moves towards the razor

sharp blades.

And with one slice his head is separated from his body.

Roberts head lands in the saw dust with a bloody thud.

The band saw is still whirring and whinging.

But Robert doesn’t hear a thing.

Because Robert is dead.

As Roberts head lays there in the saw dust and blood

A little rice puff falls from Roberts nose.

And is blown away on the wind.

Elizabeth Clutterbuck is feeling mighty uncomfortable.

She hasn’t moved her bowels in five days.

The way things are going she want have to buy any toilet paper

for a whole year.

Elizabeth really needs to drop a crap.

And she needs to do it now.

Elizabeth doesn’t understand.

She has been eating all bran since she was a child.

And it has always kept her nice and regular.

But now she is backed up all the way to California.

All she wants to do is sit on the toilet and let nature take its

course.

Elizabeth doesnt know what to do.

She eats ten bowls of all bran everyday plus she drinks five

litres of water.

But still there isn’t any movement downstairs.

Elizabeth is so clogged up she is even contemplating seeing a

proctologist.

But she doesn’t want anyone poking and prodding back there.

So she eat another bowl of all bran to ponder the situation.

Elizabeth is now so bloated and full of gas she is almost floating

on the ceiling.

The only thing keeping her grounded is her weight.

Because she isn’t getting rid of her waste she is really packing

on the kilos.

Last week she weighed 65kg now she tips the scales at 84.

When she looks in the mirror she can hardly recognise herself

Her face is all puffed up and distorted.

She looks like a female elephant man.

Elizabeth decides to stop eating altogether.

Well everything except the all bran.

She will never stop eating her favourite cereal.

But Elizabeth is her own worst enemy.

Instead of having a bowl of all bran just for breakfast

She has a bowl every hour on the  hour.

Her body cant get rid of all that bran

And it has settled in her bowel and intestines like cement.

It isn’t going anywhere.

After eating yet another bowl of all bran Elizabeth goes into the

bathroom and sits on the throne.

But there still isn’t any movement at the station.

She is afraid to look at the mirror.

But she has a quick glance and almost dies from fright.

She now looks like a human beach ball.

Her skin is stretched almost to the limit.

She turns away and rolls onto the bathroom scales.

Yesterday she weighed 84 kg now she is up to 98.

Thirty kilos above her normal weight.

Elizabeth hangs her head and starts to cry.

How has it all come to this?

And because she hasn’t been to the bathroom in eight days

Her house is starting to stink.

Because her waste isn’t leaving her body in the normal way.

It is beginning to seep through her skin.

Her skin is now the colour of a very bad fake tan

Not a good look.

But finally there is some good news.

Elizabeth finally has that feeling again.

You know that feeling when you need to do a shit.

She races to the bathroom.

Well races isn’t the right word because Elizabeth now weighs over

120 kilos.

She sits on the toilet and it starts to buckle.

Elizabeth jumps from the toilet before it breaks.

But she comes face to face with the bathroom mirror.

And she is expanding at a rapid rate.

Her skin is stretched to overload.

Elizabeth doesn’t get a chance to say goodbye.

She just explodes.

Like an over ripe water melon her body flies in all directions

Blood gore and shit cover the bathroom from floor to ceiling

Elizabeth a much loved mother and daughter is the latest victim

of a cereal killer.

People i am telling you now there is a cereal killer out there.

So take care

Beware.

THE END

Thanks for taking the time to read one of my stories and now if you have the means could you please make a donation to help me reach my goal of becoming a fulltime writer. Thanks again Steven.

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