Tag Archives: supernatural

‘The Stairwell ( 2 )’

18 Saturday Jan 2020

Posted by in poems, stories

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , , ,

Part One.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Three months later.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Part Two.

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

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

Part two

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

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

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

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

Alistair has plans for him but not quite yet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Find his evil mummy and what will be will be.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘OK climb in kid and leave the weather outside;

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sometimes the dead die so the living can keep living.

THE END.

‘Ribbons Of Blood (5) The Final Chapter’

14 Saturday Sep 2019

Posted by in poems, stories

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , , ,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Olivetti was eventually captured by the FBI and imprisoned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Final Chapter

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Three months later

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How can two people just vanish without a trace?

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

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

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

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

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

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

And that meal will be Trooper Clyde Ybanez.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk kerclunk

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

‘Hello Trooper Ybanez so we meet again’

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

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

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

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

No more Mr Nice Guy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THE END

The Stairwell

06 Saturday Jul 2019

Posted by in poems, stories

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , ,

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

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

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

A position that he prefers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Six months later

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

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

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

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

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

Scritch scratch scritch scratch scritch scratch.

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

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

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

Scritch scratch scritch scratch scritch scratch

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

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

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

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

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

Scritch scratch scritch scratch scratch scratch

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

How could she have been so mean and stupid?

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

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

‘What in the fuck?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Hello mummy have you missed me?’

THE END

Keep an eye out for part two coming soon

Stories After Midnight ( 2 )

30 Saturday Mar 2019

Posted by in poems, stories

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

, , , , ,

My name is Warren Bigelow and in part one of this story i told you how i got a job after visiting my local library.

Desperate for work i stumbled across a business card posted on the community notice board.

The employer apex industries were seeking a handyman who also liked to read.

Well i would read books 24/7 if i could but i am not very handy on the tools so i replaced the business card and made my way home.

Imagine my surprise when the next day i received a phone call from the owner of apex industries Daphne Pincombe offering me the job sight unseen. ( I still don’t know how she got hold of my phone number )

I explain to her that i am not very good working with tools ‘That is alright Warren i just know that you are the perfect person to fill the position’

So i find myself accepting her job offer and i arrive at my new workplace a little before midnight .

I am greeted by an elderly lady who introduces herself ‘Hello Warren pleased to meet you and i don’t mean to offend you but you have been visiting me in my dreams for the last few months so it is nice to finally meet you in person’

To say that i was shocked and a little creeped out would be an understatement but i stay silent and listen as she continues to talk ‘Dont worry about the handyman part of the job description it is really your ability with words that got you the job’

‘Every night we will be visiting clients in their homes at hospital or wherever your special skills are needed’

‘And after many years experience i have found that after midnight is the best time to achieve maximum results’

Daphne reaches out and grabs my hand’Warren i am sure that you have noticed that i am rather old and when i die i want you to carry on my legacy for many years to come’

So tell me all about your special power Warren’

I have no idea what Daphne is talking about’What special power?

‘Don’t worry Warren you obviously haven;t had the need to use it yet but i have seen your special power in action when you visited me in my dreams and i am sure you will utilize it when you have to’

The first three weeks at my new job went fast with nothing out of the ordinary happening but that all changed one night when we visited a young girl in hospital who had lost the will to live after a horse riding accident left her a quadriplegic.

After reading to the frightened teen all night with no effect the girl closed her eyes and said goodbye to the world.

Well i was having none of that so with not really knowing what i was doing i pointed my fingers towards her and blue sparks flew from my finger tips striking her with recharged energy that pulled her out of the funk leaving her sleeping peacefully.

Around Christmas time Daphne arrived at work in a distressed state and after drinking a strong cup of coffee she told me the reason why ‘Warren a evil mass rapist and murderer from the 1920’s named Cedric Otis invaded my dreams and turned it into a living nightmare’

Warren Otis died by in 1947 after being sentenced to death and soon after he died strapped to an electric chair’

‘Otis might be dead Warren but his demonic spirit still wanders the dark corridors of the afterlife and every now and then he enters my dreams in an attempt to kill me because he sees my goodness as a threat and i am afraid that if he visits me again he will be successful in his quest’

Daphne soon after becomes a shell of herself barely able to function and fight off the evil fucker Cedric Otis’

Will Warren be able to save Daphne in time ? Or will his entire world br turned upside down/

To find the answers to these questions just continue to read.

PART TWO.

It is with a heavy heart that i tell that my dear friend Daphe Pincombe passed away last night.

She will be greatly missed my me and also the people she has saved with her words of wisdom over many years.

Just before she died Daphne held my hand and said’ Remember Warren that Cedric Otis will target you now that my time is nigh so beware’

Then Daphne closed her eyes and passed over to the other side and not for the first time i soon realized .

A few days later i received a letter from Daphne’s solicitor asking me to attend his office for the reading of her last will and testament.

And imagine my surprise when upon arrival he informed me that i was Daphne’s sole beneficiary.

Now i own Apex Industries along with Daphne’s home plus various shares and annuities.

Daphne and i were only acquainted for a few months but she obviously saw me as some sort of kindred spirit so now my only desire is to live up to her expectations and make her proud.

Ten days later i arrived at Apex Industries to start a new chapter in my life but more importantly carry on Daphne’s legacy.

Walking into my new office a wave of fear overtook me when it hit me that i was completely out of my depth but i should have known that Daphne wouldn’t have left me in the lurch because sitting front and center on her desk was a single sheet of paper.

Dear Warren thank you for being a great friend and employee, sorry to leave you so soon but i am sure that we will meet again one day.’

‘I don’t mean to scare you Warren but you want gain new clients via email or phone instead you will hear voices when you daydream and while you sleep at night’

‘Please don’t be alarmed Warren because the voices wish you no harm they belong to people who have died and their only concern is for a relative or friend who are having suicidal thoughts or who need some strong words of advice before they self harm’

And understand Warren that you want be able to save everyone in distress because some people will be beyond your reach’

Plus Warren please heed my earlier warning concerning Cedric Otis because he will sometimes visit your dreams and thoughts in an attempt to mess with your mind’

Otis is the meanest fucker currently residing here on the other side and his wish is to gather enough souls so he can once again walk among the living causing pain and sorrow to innocents along his travels’

‘I am sorry that i have placed you in danger Warren but you are the only person capable of killing Otis once and for all’

‘Use your words and super power wisely because Otis has been slain three times already but the arsehole refuses to die’

PS If you need any help just holler’

It has now been three weeks since Daphne left this world and in that time no one has talked to me in my dreams or thoughts and i have to admit that i am getting a little worried because like everybody else i have bills to pay and put food on the table.

I decide to take a nap on the office couch to pass the day and hopefully a client will visit my sleep and offer me a chance to show off my skills.

And i am in luck because a scratchy voice enters my head and begins to talk ‘Warren my name is May Collins and i died in 2006 aged 74 years and i have been watching over my family ever since and lately i have become concerned about my niece Sharon who it seems wants to join me over here in eternal motion’

‘She is only 26 years old and has a lot of living to do before she comes to stay with me so please help me if you can Warren’

I wake not quite knowing where i am but i remember the voice in my dream then notice that i have written a name and address on a notepad.

So i take a quick shower to shake off the cobwebs before i drive over to Parramatta where Sharon Collins resides and just after midnight i use my trusty screwdriver to enter her humble abode.

Sharon is asleep in her bed and judging by the empty wine bottles strewn around the room she has had a hard night.

May’s niece obviously has some problems but i am here to perform a service and hopefully save her from herself so i reach into my backpack for a copy of ‘Wuthering Heights’ and begin to read.

Just as begin chapter ten of Sharons favourite book a small smile creases her face and her eyes flicker behind the closed lids.

My reading is having the desired affect so i finish the book then lean close and whisper in her ear ‘Sharon your Aunt May has been in touch and even though she loves you deeply she doesn’t want you to cross over until you are old and grey’

‘She wants you to be happy and enjoy a long life’ Sharon nods in understanding and for the first time in years has a peaceful sleep.

Over the following couple of months i have travelled all over the state visiting people in need after a deceased relative contacted me for assistance.

I have read books by Stephen King ,James Patterson ,Anne Rice plus old classics by Dickens ,Robert Louis Stevenson and Poe plus a personal message for them from beyond the grave.

And so far i haven’t had to use my super power plus Cedric Otis has been conspicuously absent.

Having dead people invading my daydreams and visiting me while i sleep has started to wear thin and is affecting my health.

I know that i am doing good and helping people in their hour of need but the constant invasion of my head space is really taking a toll.

Everytime my mind wanders a voice enters my brain asking for my help regarding a relative who wishes to enter the after life before their due date.

I want to help but i am only one man and i am starting to believe that i have taken on too much.

But i keep on helping night after night even though i am feeling worn out and then things take a turn for the worse one rainy night in December when an evil voice turns a dream into a nightmare ‘Hello motherfucker stop interfering with the food chain’

‘If the tortured souls and broken hearted want to venture over to my side of the fence then let them’

‘Because if you keep sticking your nose into my business i will bite off your tongue and eat it’

‘Lets how well you can talk then’

‘How am i supposed to fill my belly on the carcasses of the suffering fools if you keep meddling?’

‘So keep your nose clean or suffer the consequences ‘

I sit bolt upright in bed knowing that my visitor was none other than Cedric Otis who was executed for a string of violent crimes in 1899 but unfortunately he continues to travel the highways and byways of hell feasting on the lost souls that get a little too close.

I drink three cups of coffee in an attempt to stay awake but i am dog tired and soon i drift away.

And Otis hasn’t quite finished with me yet ‘ Still with me you little shit? Here is a taste of the pain i will inflict if you defy me’

I try to wake up but my eyes refuse to open and in my minds eye i see a silver glint flashing in front of me and when the pain hits i realise that Otis is slashing me with a knife.

The pain is horrendous and still i don’t wake then thankfully a friendly voice talks to me from her freshly dug plot’ Don’t worry Warren’ Daphne says’ I am here now so stay calm and i will have you all stitched up ready to face a brand new day’

I woke at 6 am with a full bladder with a face that feels like it has been stung by one thousand hornet’s.

As i wrestle with Mr Johnson i sneak a look at the bathroom mirror and a bruised stitched up stranger stares back at me.

My face is swollen with 50 stitches criss cross from ear to ear.

I didn’t expect to be attacked by a long dead when i signed up at Apex Industries but here i find myself carved up like a roast turkey and sporting more stitches than a cricket ball.

Then i remember Daphne’s kind words and her belief in me so i swallow my pride and scream down into the bowels of hell ‘Fuck you Mr fucking Otis and the horse you rode in on’

I know that i am fighting with fire but i cant let an evil man like Cedric Otis destroy all of Daphne’s good work.

Now i am even more determined to destroy Otis once and for all.

And i still have my super power up my sleeve .

I have only used it once with no idea how to use it or garner its strength.

The power helped me save a young girl on my first week on the job so i am confident that my power will save me if i am put in mortal danger.

Deep down beneath the soil Cedric Otis body was long ago eaten by assorted worms and beetles but his evil soul and spirit are still very much alive.

He visits the vulnerable when they are at their lowest tempting them to come down into his lair where he can devour them at his leisure.

Cedric is also wary of that interfering arsehole Warren Bigelow who might look like a wimp but the turd has been his toughest opponent so far along with that old bitch Daphne Pincombe.

It is almost 3 am on a cold winters night and Warren is at work reading the latest thriller by David Baldacci to a teenager who if he doesn’t mend his ways will soon be in the company of Cedric Otis.

Warren is a big Baldacci fan so he reads the book with passion giving voice to every character and his client strapped to his hospital bed dreams long forgotten happy thoughts.

As he drives home after another successful shift Warren sings along with an old eagles song and for a second he lets his mind wander and that is just the opening that Cedric was waiting for.

A stench fills the interior of Warrens car that almost makes him lose control of the Corolla.

Warren gags in distress as the smell of decomposition renders him useless for a few seconds but he soon joins the land of the living when the voice of Cedric Otis pipes up from the passenger ‘Last time i let you off with a few cuts and bruises but this time i am playing for keeps.’

Warren braces himself for the onslaught to come but nothing happens then a familiar kind voice whispers in his ear. ‘Keep calm and vigilant Warren’ Daphne says ‘Remember that good will always triumph over evil so keep that fucker out of your head and you will prevail’

Arriving home alive and in one piece Warren collapses on his couch knowing that he has just dodged a bullet.

If Daphne hadn’t intervened when she did Warren knows that he would be dead meat right now.

Warren enters the kitchen to brew a huge pot of coffee because he plans on staying awake for the foreseeable future because he knows that if he lets Cedric Otis into his mind again then he wont survive this time.

He also knows that he can no longer work for Apex Industries because he is completely emotionally and physically drained.

After 36 hours with no sleep Warrens eyelids say enough is enough and close.

He is now the mercy of the gods and thankfully for him Daphne gets to him first. Warren don’t be so hard on yourself because Cedric Otis is a forminable opponent with a heart full of black’

‘And Warren my dear boy you have a heart of gold and a power that Otis doesn’t know you possess’

‘So use your power along with some words of wisdom and you will defeat that prick ‘

For sixteen hours Warren wrestles with his sheets and thoughts and luckily Otis is preoccupied elsewhere.

Feeling refreshed and invigorated Warren now knows exactly what he needs to do.

That evil piece of shit Cedric Otis needs to die again.

And this time for good.

Warren is now confident that he has the tools and skill to defeat Otis and send him back to hell on a one way ticket.

Then he stumbles and almost falls when Otis once again enters his brain ‘Hello Warren have you missed me? Y’know Warren i kind of like living inside your head and i have no plans to move out anytime soon’

‘I have conquered you Warren so now we are one and the same’

‘Now we can travel the mystical highway as one devouring lost souls and broken hearts’

Warren tries to respond but the words wont come so he now has only one course of action left to him.

He concentrates with his last vestige of strength and soon the static electricity leaves the room and enters his body then he shoves all ten fingers under the ribs of Otis and fires.

Blue sparks and flame pierce Otis skin and his internal organs are cooked and electrified.

Otis collapses and is dead before he hits the ground but Warren knows that the evil prick has already died a few times this century and last so he stays vigilant and waits .

Four hours later an apparition leaves Otis body and begins to float away back to the safety of hell but Warren isn’t having any of that ‘Not this time motherfucker the world has had enough of your evil presence so your soul doesn’t deserve to live to fight another day’

And with that Warren points a finger skyward and shoots that soul into oblivion.

THE END.