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Showing posts with label short story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label short story. Show all posts

Sunday, October 19, 2014

mr. pickles



"Danny, don't go in there."

The sound of Russell's voice was low and hesitant. He had heard the stories about the store in the old house and wanted to believe they were all made up. He wanted nothing more than to believe there was no old man, with half his face chewed off, waiting to devour bad kids. But his gut instinct was telling him something else.

"You're a chicken! BUCK-AAWK! There's nothin' to worry about. We'll go inside, look around and be out in no time. I'm tellin' ya, there's nothin' goin' on in that place."

Danny was the wise one. He always had the logical explanation. Even if it sounded like crap at first, it usually worked out the way he said. But this time the butterflies were flipping like trapeze artists.

"I don't know. It's dark, we're kinda far from home. Let's turn around. They say there's some kids that went in there and never came back."

Danny looked at his friend and shook his head slowly. "I never thought my best friend would turn out to be a wuss. "I'll go myself. Stay out here. You'll probably get ate by the damn dogs that roam the streets."

"Stop it, Danny! They say the kids got turned into...sausage. He eats people."

That was the one. That last phrase put Danny on the ground with laughter.

"No way! Are you serious??! Who are 'they' and how did they get the story? Look, there's nothing in the place. It's just and old house with a store in the basement. We're gonna prove everybody wrong."

Danny held out his hand for Russell to help him up. When he got to his feet, the boys ran up the path to the worn down house. It hadn't been painted in years. The sides were coated in dirt and decay. The front porch look like a smiling face with missing teeth. The wood was moldy and looked black, under the late evening sky. There was a heavy presence that seemed to hang over the property. Russell could feel it in his chest as they went around the side of the house.

"Can you feel that?"

Danny sighed as he answered. "Now what, chicken shit?"

"That feeling. It's bad. Let's go. Let's just tell the guys we went in. They won't know."

"No. We gotta get something. A piece of candy, a pop bottle. Something."

"I'm tellin' ya, they won't KNOW! Let's get it from Wal-Mart, Walgreens, any Wal but here!"

"You drunk. Let's go."

Danny found a small window. It was big enough for them to get inside, with a little bit of a struggle. The wind picked up and howled through the densely planted trees of the back yard Danny yanked on the window but it was locked. He looked around and found a rock. Russell shook his head violently while Danny nodded. The boy reared his arm back, as she friend covered his ears. The stone came down with a muffled crash. Reaching in carefully, Danny found the latch on the old window and raised it. A rush of air escaped and blew past the boys. There was a low growling voice that tickled their ears.

"What the fuck was THAT? Did you hear it?! It said, Welcome, foolish ones.' I know you heard it, Danny! Please say you did!"

"Stop smokin' that bad weed. It was the wind. C'mon, you're just a jumpy lame."
Danny peered into the dark basement. He had to admit, there was a foul smell that filled the air. He stuck his head in and tried to get a better look around. the store was there, just like they'd heard. He motioned for Russell to follow him, as he lent his slim body snake through the window and onto the floor. He landed with a sturdy thud. The floor felt soft beneath him. Before he got his balance, Russell was falling behind him. The boy fell forward and pushed Danny into a large display of bubble gum, candy and other sugary treats.

"Dammit! You're a clumsy ass!" He tried to whisper. "Look what you made me do!"

"You broke the window! Mr. Pickles heard us! I know he did!"

Danny looked at his scared partner, as they scurried to pick things up and replace them. "His name is what?"

"Mr. Pickles. He likes to eat people. Kids more than anything. He sells the pieces too."

"But why Mr. Pickles? That sounds lame as fuck. He smell like dill pickles or somethin'?" Danny let out a snicker, picked up a piece of candy and took it out of the wrapper. He was about to put it in his mouth, when it faded away in his hand. He looked at Russell. He looked at the empty wrapper in his hand. He tossed the paper and picked up another. He quickly opened it with the same result. It faded away, with a whiff of smoke.

Danny looked around the basement and took in the morbid sights. There were jars filled with bones, what looked like herbs and pieces of dried meat that hung from the ceiling. He walked further let his hand trail an old counter that was in the middle of the room. His hand hit a jar and he looked closely at the contents. At first it looked like eggs.  As he peered closer, they took the shape of cow eyes. They were old and slightly grayed.

"Fuck me," Danny said slow and low. "Why do they call this guy Mr. Pickles, again?" He waited for an answer as he saw another jar. It contained a flesh colored meat. He picked the huge container up, for a better look. He yelled and dropped it. A sea of sizzling liquid drenched the floor, along with hands and feet that had been stuffed in the jar.

"He likes to pickle the body parts. That makes them taste oh so sweet and juicy."

Russell's voice was different. It was low and coarse. It sounded like he was pretending.

"Stop it, Russell," he demanded while kicking at the severed limbs on the floor. "Let's get outta here."

When Danny turned towards his friend, he was looking at a huge figure. It was wearing a bloody white apron. He looked up slowly and saw the half mangled face. There was smoothness on one side, like it had been cut off in some sort of accident. The other side was angry, filled with filthy, razor sharp teeth that protruded from a ghastly mouth which oozed thick, black pus. A huge hand quickly snatched his throat and lifted him from the floor. Danny's legs swung as he tried to break free.

"Allow me to introduce myself," the figure said with a drastically changing voice. "Mr. Pickles is the name. You're going to be extra sweet meat. You'll replace what you've destroyed."

Danny gurgled and gasped. He looked at the window. Russell was still outside. He was screaming and bagging on the window but there was no sound. The pain around his throat was intense. He felt pressure around his eyes, his head felt light. He smelled his own excrement, as the unbearable pain made him shit.

Russell banged on the glass and finally stopped. He saw his friend's head snap to one side. Urine dripped from Danny's body and mixed with the blood that oozed from his ears nose and mouth. Mr. Pickles turned and looked at the boy. As he held the lifeless body, he raised his other hand and put a finger to his lips.

"Ssssssh...."

In a blur of motion, Russell watched Mr. Pickles tear his friend to fleshy shreds. The pieces plopped on the floor and twitched.

Another scream escaped Russell's throat as he got up and ran...and ran...and ran.

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~wurdz © 2014 all rights reserved

Sunday, October 12, 2014

the old shack



It was a typical Friday evening.

Joshua had polished off a few beers at the local bar and was ready to head home. He looked at his surroundings and shook his head. The same people, the same conversations, the same disconnection and fake smiles. The routine was an established one that did its job. He stayed out of trouble.

"What cha got goin for the weekend, Josh?"
Martinez had run the bar since Josh had been a regular. He couldn't picture the place without the stout man and his walrus mustache. Every week, the same question. Every week, the same answer.

"Nothin'  much. Catch a movie-"

"...or two and just chill," Martinez helped Josh finish. "You need to get yourself outta that rut, man. You're too predictable."

Josh smiled.

"No, I'm serious, dude. These other bums in here are just that...bums. You got a decent job, got your head on straight. Why do you keep doin' this to yourself? Find a decent woman, settle down and live life."

Looking around the bar, Josh chuckled. "If this is living, a body would be better off dead." He pulled a crumpled up twenty from his pants pocket and tossed it on the bar. No change, same price. Routine.
The men exchanged half-hearted looks, as Josh stood to leave. His ass was numb, from sitting in one place for so long. He took one last look at the bar. There was a stunning woman he'd overlooked. There was no missing her. She stood out from the others like oil in water. She winked at him and licked her lips.

"Yeah, right," he thought to himself. "Guys like me, don't get women like that. Whatever." He nodded, gave her a crooked smirk and waved at Martinez.

"At least I got my head on straight...for whatever that's worth."

The skies looked gray and were painted with dark clouds that grew angrier as Josh walked to his car.

"HEY!"

The voice behind him was soft yet demanding. He turned to see the woman from the bar. She was trotting towards him and then slowed to a sexy bounce.

"Want some company?" She asked, after posing in front of him, her hand seductively on a curvaceous hip.

She was fantastic. Thick pouty lips, curly hair, a figure that would make Aphrodite blush. There had to be a mistake. Either she was drunk out of her mind or maybe his luck was changing.
With hesitation, Josh looked away and then back at the woman. "How  far you goin'? I only live right down the street."

"I'm goin' anywhere you are, Josh."

"I didn't give you my name,” he noticed. “…and you are?"

"Oh! Kelly...Kelly Allen. And I overheard you talkin' to Martinez."

Screw it. She was sexy, he was bored, the evening was young and rain was on the way.

"Get in."

They drove along the road in silence. It was the same road that Josh used every weekend, when leaving the bar. There was nothing spectacular about it. Everything looked washed out and gray. Each detail seemed like a boring black and white Polaroid. The trees moved by in succession, like a bad cartoon loop. He glanced at his passenger. She knew he was watching her. She wore a thigh high black skirt with tattered leggings. Her grey sweater top hugged a pair of knockers that made Josh breathe deeper and swallow hard. She rubbed her thigh and moved her skirt up higher as she brought her hand towards her waist.

"Better keep your eyes on the road. I wanna make it to your place in one piece. You can devour me there, lover."

"What? What makes you think I wanna do that?"

"The lump in your pants. That's always a sure indicator. Or am I wrong?" Kelly let out a wicked laugh. "Good thing you got your head on straight."

Josh slammed on the brakes, causing the car to skid on the damp road. The clouds had gathered and the rain finally caught them. It pelted the car with hard droplets that sounded like hail.
Kelly laughed.

"Look. That old shack. Take me over there. It's raining. That's romantic," she snickered again. "You can do me in the shack while the rain makes us...wet."

The sound of Josh putting the car in park sliced through the pelting rain. He looked at her, long and hard. She was serious. His luck was changing. A beautiful woman was begging to have sex with him.

"Okay...okay. I, um...fuck it. Okay, let's go."

Putting the car back into gear, he drove the Boxster off the road and up towards the shack. He glanced around to make sure no one was lurking about. After all, he had a reputation to uphold. Even though he was a nerdish office guy, he had standards. If anyone saw him with this type of woman, talk would start. Talk was all he needed to destroy his peaceful existence.
They stopped on the side of the old place. Kelly was laughing and tried her hand at singing. She 
belted out a sure and strong verse, but was severely out of tune

"THE LOOOOVE SHACK IS A LIL OLD PLACE WHERE WE CAN GET TO-GETHAAAAA! LOVE SHACK  BAY-A-BEEEE!"

"PLEASE! Hold it down."

Kelly looked at him with a serious cock of her head. "Really? There's nobody around. Outside of the raccoons and the invisible paparazzi, it's just you, me and that hard wood you're hiding. Come on!"

She opened the door and sprang from the car. The rain mingled with her curls and they slowly went limp on her head. She twirled and danced about in the falling water. Josh was getting irritated. He was beginning to think he'd made a mistake. But it was too late now. He had to go on with it. He got out of the coupe and followed her inside the shack.

Once they  were  inside the building, Kelly wrapped her arms around him, pulled his lips towards her and kissed him passionately. She moaned with delight, as she guided his hand onto her chest. This was truly different. Josh was used to being in control. The routine was off.

"What's the matter? You having second  thoughts? Don't tell me I made a move on you and now you're gonna act like a scared little chicken. Come on...live a little. Have some fun! I see you every week in that bar. You sit, look at everybody, have a few beers and just leave. Your life needs some excitement! I sat there two hours waiting on you! I almost thought you weren't coming. But it's your routine. I made myself wait. Now it's time to break free!"

She was right. He was predictable. A sad case. He'd have to change.

"You know...you're right."

He ran his fingers through her wet locks and kissed her on the forehead. He took her by the hand and led her to a dark doorway and  set of stairs that led to a musky basement. There was an oil lamp on a rickety table. He reached into his pocket, produced a lighter and lit the wick. A dull glow ached forth, through the dirty glass.

"How'd you know that was there?"

"Just dumb luck. Let's take a look down there, shall we?" Josh loosened his tie, unbuttoned his collar and sighed.

Kelly peered down the dim staircase and took a step forward. She strained to get some indication of what was beyond the dark haze that altered her view.

The sound of buzzing trickled into her ears.

"Can you see anything?" Josh asked, while reaching behind the table. "It seems really dark."

"Eww...it reeks. What's that smell? Like rotten meat."

"It is."

Kelly turned around as the machete crashed into her skull. Josh braced his foot on her torso and pulled it out. A crimson fountain blossomed from her forehead. The woman tried to talk but let forth only gurgles and coughs. Blood oozed from her ears, nose and mouth. Her eyes rolled back, as she tumbled down the stairs and landed with a squish.

The machete dangled at Josh's side. He picked up the lamp and walked down the stairs. The light landed on Kelly. Her body was still shaking, as she tried to reach out for mercy, her limp, weak arm shivering.

"Ssssshhh...hush. You'll be just fine in a moment. You don't wanna wake your friends. They'll be pissed."

Josh had to kick the mangled remains of other bodies out of his way, to position himself. He sat the lamp on one of the deteriorating steps and looked around. The carnage was at least a foot deep. . Maggots and blowflies swarmed on the corpses. Some had mouths agape, frozen in disbelief.

"Gotta be number...seventeen, eighteen, nineteen. Hot damn! You're lucky number twenty! Good thing I got my head on right."

He raised the huge blade and swung it down with a sticky crunch. He whistled The Camptown Ladies. With each whack, he thought about how boring life could be. The routine...the monotony.

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~wurdz © 2014 all rights reserved

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