Sunday, July 16, 2017

STORY #15 THE CORPORATION

 THE CORPORATION


Truth is, these are not nice people I work for here. You won't think so either.
The building floats high in the sky. It moves constantly from one place to the other. Never in the same place. I find it by honing in on a signal that is installed in my corporate car. I have to wear my corporate clothes. Use corporate gas. Talk corporate talk. Hang out with corporate folks which is never fun. I have to walk the corporate way and comb my hair by corporate standards. I have to eat corporate food, which is never good.
Just another day in corporate land working for a bunch of nothing heads who think I should sell my soul and pledge my undying allegiance to this company. Which, in a way I did.
I've never been one to conform to such things which is why I was placed in the incinerator room burning humans.
So, what did I do?
I broke corporate rules and spoke and called them bad names behind their backs and some brown noser who I thought was my friend but was striving for a corporate position I didn't know about ratted me out so he could become a supervisor and get out of the incinerator room. That's how they get those jobs by stabbing others in the back.
They bring the bodies in by the ship load and me and a couple other guys like me shove them in the furnace.
The goal of this place is to capture as many humans as humanly possible and destroy Earth. I'm thinking, haven't there been enough planets trying to do that.
The bodies are bloated and heavy when they come in. Their mouths open wide and sometimes I can still hear them screaming.
“Looks like another nasty day,” my co worker said.
“Busy one at that,” I said.
“You think we'll ever get out of this place?”
“I don't think so. I think we're going to die here.”
“The corporation would love that.”
“They would.”
He helps me lift a body of a fat man who is now even fatter and boy does he smell.
“Still can't get used to that smell,” he said.
“Neither can I.”
“And we've been doing this a long time.”
“Too long.”
He grabs the ankles and I grab the shoulders and we swing the fat man inside the burning pit.
His flesh crinkles, snaps and pops and distorts like plastic. Eyes pop out of his head. We cover our ears as the brain explodes with a loud pop.
“Ready for the next one?” I said.
“Ready as I'll eve be.”
The next one was a young girl who couldn't have been no more than eight. I look at her face, her long pretty hair and she is still holding her dolly. “Such a shame.”
“Awful.”
'These people don't care who they get.”
“Not at all.”
She is small enough so he grabs her himself and tosses her in. We watch as her dolly catches fire first and melts.
Every ten minutes one of the supervisors come down to make sure we are working and not dilly-dallying.
We worked day and night. There is never enough time in a day or do they keep track of time. Time doesn't exist here.
There are no clocks.
No TV. You don't hear any news or anyting that has to do with the outside world. They send us home when there doesn't seem to be any more to do and call us in when its time to come in.
“Ever think about working your way up to the corporate offices?” he asked.
“No.”
“I heard they make ore money and have freedom.”
“I heard that too.”
“Sometimes I think I would like that.”
“That place is for backstabbers and sharks.”
“Sometimes I think I'm doing something wrong cause when I look at them they are the one that seem to be making all the money and living the good life.
“That's no good life,” I said.
We continued shoving the bodies in the burner. I watched him knowing that one day he was going to crack. Eventually he was going to become one of them. It was only a matter of time. He couldn't seem to understand that we are more free down here than they are up there.
I know one day this building is going to collide with another corporation even larger and is going to crumble.
Then, I will be free.


Saturday, July 15, 2017

STORY # 14 THE PIT


THE PIT


Sammy didn't have a clue what he was doing there or how he go there for that matter. The place was pit in the center of his yard. He was standing there for one minute admiring the nice day without rain. Listening to the birds. Watching the children playing in the street.
Then he sunk down into the pit.
The pit circled around and around. There were worms moving all around which made feel sticky.
“What are you doing down there?” It was a boy who looked to be around nine.
“I fell. Can you help me up?”
“I can't.”
“Why not.”
“It's too deep.”
“Got a rope?”
“Hold on a second.”
He waited and waited. Finally the boy came back with a rope that looked weak and worn and was very thin.
“Grab this.”
“This isn't going to work. It's not strong enough.”
“Just try.”
“I don't have to try. Trust me.”
“I'll tie it off at this tree.”
Not having a choice he jerked the rope and made sure it was tight. He didn't have much choice but to give it a try.
The rope broke just as he figured and he fell back to the ground..
“Will you go get your mom or dad or somebody?”
“Hold on a second.”
Great. The boy is going to be gone another two hours. He took a deep breath and tried to relax. If he ever got his hands on that boy he was going to choke him for sure.
The boy never came back.
Then dark came.
He could see bats flying around out there. He could hear the crickets chirping.
He tried screaming but nobody seemed to hear him.
He never liked that boy from the very beginning. Didn't like the way he looked and hated the way he talked, That particular boy was always causing trouble in the neighborhood. Looking in cars and house windows when he thought nobody was watching. But he was watching. He kept his eye on that boy. That boy probably wants him good and dead.
He sat in the hole all night till morning came.
Later two boys came by.
“Look. A man is in the hole.”
“O, goodie,” another said.
“Bout time.”
Rocks hit him in the head. The face. One got him in his eye.
“Stop it! Stop it!”
The boys giggled.
“I said stop it!”
“What you going to do bout it?”
“Watchya guys doing?” It was a woman's voice.
He thought, finally, an adult who can get me out of this.
The woman was pretty. She lived three houses down. He'd seen her out a lot on her afternoon walks.
“Oh, look. You have a man.”
“Hie.”
“Hello,” she said.
“I'm so glad you can help me.”
“Oh,it's no problem.”
“I've been in here all night.”
“I can see that.”
“I can't tell you enough how glad I am you're here.”
“Good job boys,” she said.
“Thanks, Nana.”
“You may need to get some help. This hole is kinda deep.”
“Oh, I know. It is very deep. I can hardly see you.”
The was sinking. He could see her getting further and further away as she looked down at him.
Three more days passed. He was still there in the hole.
The a full week.
He became hungry and so he ate the worms because he knew they were loaded with protein and that's what moles eat to keep them full of energy so they can dig.
An entire month passed and he was still there.
Every once in a while somebody would stop by and look down in the hole and say hi to him.
Everyone said they would be back.
Nobody ever came back and when they did it was always somebody different.
Some would laugh at him. Poke fun. Call him names. The he realized this is what his life had been reduced to,
Nothing.
A year passed.
Then two.
Then three.
He ate nothing but worms.
All the while the world around him was changing. Houses were knocked down and refurbished. Bulldozers cleaning old rubble.
He listed to the children as they grew older. Voices getting deeper. Then he heard the voices of their kids playing in the street. The sounds of the cars getting louder.
Every once in a while one of the kids would stop by and say hi. It was like he were their own little town pet.
His hair turned long and gray. Fingernails long and dirty. His teeth rotten and fallen out. Skin crisp and scaly. His clothes rot and fell off in long strands.
Every once in a while somebody would stop by and check up on him. They laughed and poked fun.
His tongue had become swollen because of a bacteria infection. His gut as large as a basketball. His elbows and knees crooked and disjointed.
“Look what I found , daddy,” a boy said.
He was one of the older boys youngest son.
“I see that.”
'What is it?”
“I don't know. Just leave it alone,”


Monday, July 10, 2017

STORY #13 FOR THE LOVE OF PAIN

Now , this one is a sick story. I have no idea how I came up with this one but I did.  This one is a bit extreme so caution. If you get queasy easily you may want to pass on this one. I surprised myself with this.  I didn't know I was such a sick and twisted writer.
Who am I kidding.
Of course I knew.

BEWARE



 FOR THE LOVE OF PAIN

Chucky was feeling exceptionally horny that day. It's been a long time since he had his fix.
Not sex. Sex was out of the question and caused too many problems. His friend, Janet showed him how he could have the similar experience and even better.
Wow was it something,
First it started with a few love taps.
A couple whacks with the hammer to the hand. Not enough to break the bones, at least not at first, but enough to leave a good bruise and a painful hand for a week or so.
Then it was the smack me in the head with a 2x4. The feeling of his head throbbing filled him with ecstasy. Blood dripping off the wood.
“Yes, baby. That was awesome.”
“Want another?”
“Hit me up , baby. “
“I bet you want it harder.”
“Oh, I like it harder.”
“I bet you do, you prick.”
“What did you call me?”
“You heard me. Now shut your mouth and take your beating like a man.”
WHACK.... WHACK..... WHACK....
“Oh, God that hurts.”
“You're such a wuss.”
“My head feels like a basketball.”
“Looks like one too.”
After that things got boring real quick. It got to the point he wanted a real good beating. Done by a professional.
“I know just the place,” she said. “This guy will beat you to a pulp, gut you like a fish and make you take a bath in your guts. How you like them apples?”
“Oh, man. That sounds too good to be true.”
“We'll go tonight.”
“What's this place called?”
“That, my friend is a secret.”

****

The pace she took him was underground. Below the sewers and it smelled like it too. Rats ran along the walls, squealing.
She banged on the door three times.
“Secret code?” he asked.
“It's the password.”
The slide on the door opened and two eyes stared back them. The slide closed and the door opened.
A large beefy giant of a man motioned for them to come in, Maggots dripped from his swollen lips.
A flashing strobe light lit up the dark room. People dressed in leather and whips, painted faces.
A cacophony of screeching guitars. Screaming. Yelling. Punching.
Whips snapping.
Leather on skin,
Flesh smacking flesh.
A couple in the corner sucked on each others necks.
Biting.
Flesh tearing.
“Whatdaya think?” she asks.
“This is great.”
“Is it what you expected?”
“More than I expected.”
“That's good right?”
“Real good. Just what the doctor ordered.”
“Someone call a doctor?”
Woman dressed in scrubs and wearing a face mask danced in front of him. Blood dripping from the chunks of flesh on her apron.
He was certain he recognized those blue eyes. There was a tiny tattoo of a scull and cross whips on her neck.
Everybody he looked at had it.
Even Janet. All these years he'd known her it never occurred to him to ask her what it was about.
Now he knew.
“They all know your a virgin,” she told him. “They're going to show you a good time tonight. I hope you're ready for this.”
“I'm ready he said.”
“The doctor has some medicine for you,” the doc said. “Come this way.”
She gave him a pill and told him to take it.
He saw Janet taking the other one and watched her go off into a another room with some guy dressed as an exterminator. So, he thought it must be okay.
He followed her into a large room. It looked like a hospital room.
A secret room.
She pushed him on the hospital bed. Tied him to it.
By now the medicine had kicked in and she was nothing but a blur. A wave of dizziness overtook him. He felt like he was asleep but he was fully aware of his surroundings.
Relaxed.
Calm as a leaf floating on a log.
She danced around the room to the music. Her head swaying. Hips rotating rythymitcally as she untied her smock,
It dropped to the floor.
Never in his life had he seen such a beautiful woman. Such a fine figure. A tattoo of a snake crawled up her leg with his mouth between her legs. It appeared to be moving.
“The doctor is going to do you up good tonight. Just like you ordered. Doctor is going to make you feel real good.”
She pushed a button on the wall. The room filled with the hum of a motor coupled with the smell of oil.
A large saw blade big enough to cut him in two came down.
Lower.
Lower. She pulled the lever.
He could feel the wind from the blade on his chest as she continued to lower it.
It was so low it was scraping his chest. Blood dripping from the points.
“Feel the burn, baby,” she said. “Feel the burn.”
“Daddy feels the burn,” he said.
He didn't know what she was going to do. Was she going to cut him in two. Or was she going to let him live?
That was the exhilarating part,
He felt the blade cutting into his ribcage.
Heart beating out of control.
The blade sinking deeper and deeper. Bone and gristle flying off the points. The blade lifted revealing the large crater in his chest.
He watched her reach in and scoop out a hand full of his organs. Pulled out his heart. Liver and spleen.
Showed it to him.
She lowered her mask and smiled,
She was beautiful. Red glossy lipstick. Her lips sinking into his spleen as she took a bite.
As weird as it seemed he was feeling good. This wasn't hurting at all. He could feel her hands digging around under his rib cage,
She was killing him slowly.
Is this what it's like to die?
If it did, he never wanted to come back.
The door opened. Three more women came in. All were naked. All of them had long black hair and beautiful bodies.
A feeling of elation came over him as they dug into his ribcage.
Climbing on top of him.
Grinding.
Skins smacking on skins.
Flesh smacking flesh.
Slurping and sucking like a pack of feral cats licking up his blood.
Then all went dark.

***

He saw Janet's face when he woke. He was lying on the hospital bed. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“What did ya think?”
“I don't know. It was weird.”
She giggled. “I know. I felt the same way my first time I was being killed.”
“I'm alive?”
“Of course silly. You think I would let them keep you dead?”
“I didn't know that's what you were talking about. If I'd known that....”
“You wouldn't have come.”
“You're right.”
“Kinda a creepy ha?”
“Yeah. Kinda felt like I was in my own world. It's weird to say this. It felt really good letting them dig around inside me.”
“Better than any sex you've ever had?”
“It was awesome.”
“Well, let me help you up. Don't worry bout that scar on your chest. All scars made here heal quickly. Tomorrow you won't even notice it. Let's get outta here and get some breakfast.”
“Denny's sound nice.”
“Sounds good to me. This sounds weird but I would kill for some liver and onions about now.”
“You've got the munchies. We all get the munchies after one of these nights. I must gain an extra fifteen pounds after one of these. I'm so hungry I could eat the butt hole out of a skunk.”
“That's pretty hungry.”
“Yuo're telling me.”
They left the room and walked down the hallway. Each room had its own special activity.
Some fat dude was getting slapped int the face with his severed pecker by a nurse.
A woman was getting nails pounded all over her body by a construction worker.
A girl who looked like a teenager was getting pounded in the face with a gavel by a woman dressed like a judge.
Somebody who was unrecognizable was getting eaten by a pack of wild dogs.
The next room he heard cracking and popping sounds as some dude was getting his arms and legs broken.
“Don't look at all the rooms,” she said.
“Why. I'm curious. Can't help it.”
“Cause if you know everything that goes on around here it ruins the surprise.”
“I suppose you're right. I sure do like my surprises.”
“You'll like'm even more now. I suppose it really doesn't matter that much. They're always changing things up around here.”
“Oh yeah. Can't wait to come back tomorrow.”
“Smile.” She snaps a picture of him. “Gotta have a picture of the first time you were killed. “Say bloody cheese.”
He smiled. “Bloody cheese.”
“You look so handsome. How do ya feel now since you did it?”
“More alive now than I ever was.”
“That's the idea.”
“I wonder how I wanna die tomorrow. I can't make up my mine.”
“That my friend, is the surprise.”




Sunday, July 9, 2017

STORY #12 THING UNDER THE BED

 THING UNDER THE BED

“I can't sleep in here, Daddy,” Roger said.
“Roger. We've been through this before. You can if you think you can.”
“I hear something under my bed.”
“I've told you a thousand times. There's nothing under your bed. Look.” He lifted the blanket and looked under. “Come out come out where ever you are. See. Nothing.”
“But I hear it. It growls and hisses every night. It waits till you close the door.”
“You're just dreaming.”
“That's what mom says.”
“Well, there you go then. If mom said it then it's definitely right. Besides, every boy would love to have a room like this.”
The room was decorated WWE style. Posters of different wrestlers on the walls. The bed looked like a wrestling ring.
“But dad...”
“No buts. You're a big boy now and you can't sleep with mommy and daddy.”
Plus it was ruining his and Cheryl's sex life. He went through the trouble and got himself fixed to save Cheryl from the whole ordeal, not to mention it would've been much harder on her. A little snickety snick and he was good to go with no lay up time. But every night Roger gets between them.
“Okay, but if it eats me. It's on you.”
“There's nothing going to eat you.”
“I hope not.”
He could hear Roger saying his prayers as he told him good night and closed the door.
“Get him all settled in did you?” Cheryl asked.
“I think so.”
“Poor little thing.”
“We can't continue letting him sleep in our bed. I read somewhere it does something to them mentally. Gives'm self-esteem problems and things.”
“You read too many articles on the Internet. All little kids like to sleep with their parents.”
He pulled the covers back. “So.”
“So what?”
“We finally did it. We're alone for our first night in a long time.”
“Hope it stays that way. It's nice.”
“Yes it is. Wanna do it?”
“What?”
“You know. The thing.”
He grabbed her by her waist. Fondled her boobs and smacked her butt.
“Ohhhhh. Somebody's a little frisky.”
“Been a while.”
“Daaaaaaad.”
Cheryl smirked.
“Just like clockwork.”
He tried to pretend he didn't hear him.
“Well?”
“Well what?”
“Daaaaaaaad....Moooooom.”
“Are you going to check on him?”
“For what? To look under the bed and tell him nothing is there? He'll realize it once we stop coming when he calls.”
“Honey?”
“I know. But he's gotta learn.”
“Moooooom.”
He smirked. “So, now he's going for the big guns. It's okay. I'll go.”
Roger was hiding under the covers.
“Roger, I told you everything is just fine.”
“It's not fine. Something is under there.”
“I've already checked under your bed. I told you nothing is there.”
“It's there now.”
“I'll check this one last time and that's it. Okay?”
“Okay.”
He lifted the blanket and looked. The floor had turned into a huge set of teeth. Sharp and pointed like a Great White shark. It's long tongue slivered out and licked him in the face.
“Did you see it?” Roger asked.
“Just give me a second.” He wasn't sure if his eyes were playing tricks on him so he looked again. The large teeth moved back and forth.
He looked again. The teeth snapped.
Growling.
“Come on, Lets get you out of here till I figure out what that is?” He tried to speak in a calm voice but that was out of the question right now.
“It's there isn't it? I know it is. I can tell by the look on your face. Daddy. I'm so scared.”
“It's going to be okay.”
Just then the floor rose up in a large lump. Arms came out of the floor and pulled Roger through the hole in the bed head first.
Roger screamed, His legs kicking.
Sam grabbed hold of Roger's ankles and yanked and yanked. The creature was too strong.
“Cheryl! Come quick. I need some help.”
“What's going on in here?”
Roger was halfway through the hole.
“Help me pull him out.”
Teeth rose up from the mattress. Blood splattered over his face.
Bones crunching. Chewing gristle. Slurping and sucking.
Roger's screams turned into a muffled gurgle as the teeth slowly chomped Roger down until finally Sam had to let him go.
Cheryl covered her face. “Ohhh, my God. What is that thing?”
“I don't know.”
The bed let out a loud burp.
Sam left and came back with a shotgun and fired at the bed.
Feathers and red fluffy stuffing flew up. He threw the bed up. Two black eyes stared back at him. Teeth moving up and down.
“Feed me. Feeeeeeeeeeeeeed me,” the thing said.
“Oh my God. Do something Sam. Don't just stand there.”
“Feeeeeeeeeeeeeeed me.”
He put the barrel into the mouth on the floor.
Before he was able to pull the trigger the thing sucked up the gun.
Crunching. Chomping.
“Mooooooooooooore. Moooooooooore.”
“Give it something Sam.”
The jaws opened wide.
Sam threw the lamp down the hole.”
“Mooooooooooooore.”
“Here. Have this,” Cheryl said and threw in all Roger's Star wars models and figures.”
“Flesh. I want flesh.”
The tongue came out and wrapped around Cheryl's leg.
She fell to the floor as she was being pulled toward the mouth.
“Saaaaaaaaam.”
He didn't want to do it. He had no choice. He grabbed the sword off the wall and chopped off her leg just above the knee.
As the room filled with the sound of the creature chomping on a part of her leg Sam dressed her up with a tourniquet.
Cheryl screaming, cursing at Sam for chopping off her leg.
Surely, there had to be a better way. It was too late for that.
He pulled Cheryl out of the room and closed the door.
“Where did that thing come from?” she asked.
“I have no idea.”
“It keeps saying it wants flesh.”
“Huuuuuuuuuuugry. Meeeee so Huuuuuuuungry.”
“Don't look at me like that,” Cheryl said. “I'm not giving it any more of my body.”
“I wasn't thinking that at all.”
Long moment of pause.
“Well?” she asked.
“I'm thinking.”
He had to figure something out to get them by, kinda buy themselves some time till they can move. Obviously, the thing wasn't going to leave them alone. He thought he should have just let him sleep in their room and none of this would've happened.
He could hear children playing and laughing outside. Kids were always playing at the Lucky's house across the street. She always pumped them full of ice pops and kool-aid, had the trampoline and all the cool stuff.
“It's okay, honey,” he said. “I know just what to do.”







Saturday, July 8, 2017

STORY #11

 THE ANTS GO MARCHING ON


“I want these things out of my house,” the lady said. “I can't take it anymore.”
There were so many ants I was surprised they hadn't picked the house up and walked off with it.
I didn't dare tell her that though. Yeah, not really a good idea when you're dealing with a customer who has about all they can take over the pesky little creatures.
I stood there contemplating, not really sure how I was going to deal with it myself.
Ants were climbing up the walls by the hundreds.
The counter was completely black. They didn't even so much as budge when I walked in the door.
More like looking at me like 'what you think you're gonna do, pal? Ha? You think you're going to do something do ya? Do ya really. C'mon, gimme your best shot.
She was pretty irritated. I've seen many customers over the years and haven't seen a one that hadn't had enough of these ants.
I've seen women bawling their eyes out over the things.
Some feel like they practically going to move out cause they feel the ants had taken over.
Or better yet. Light the house on fire and move on.
That's what she told me. “She was going to burn her house down and move on but apparently her husband had stopped her form doing so.
I guess you could say she was lucky. Maybe he was. It wouldn't feel very good to come home after a long hard day at work and discover your wife burned your house down cause she was fed up dealing with ants.
“I feel like they're just laughing at me,” she said.
She tried it all too. All the famous home remedies. The pepper all over the baseboards. The salt. The ant bait you get at the store.
“It's just not as strong enough as the stuff you guys use.”
Actually, some of it is really. I couldn't be that honest with her though. People think that when you call an exterminator that we're using some kind of high potent stuff that is going to really knock them on their butts.
Truth is. I've been doing this for over nineteen years and those of us who have been doing this for a while have just learned enough about the biology.
Ants are really pretty complicated. I'll give her that. They are a highly organized insect with a chain of command and everything.
You can shoot them with all the raid you want and you will kill what is on the surface. And you'll rejoice at see all their dead bodies scattered all over your counter and you will think you've won the battle.
ha. Don't be fooled my good friend.
The battle has only begun. You know like that song.
It has only just begun.
“The girl I spoke with on the phone said you were the best,” she said.
“Is that what they said.?”
“She said you were very detailed.”
“They can be complicated. Does take some time.”
“I don't care how long it takes. I just want them gone.” She smacked a couple on the counter and cursed them.
“I understand.”
I asked her all the usual questions like how long has she been dealing with this. Which I knew was for a problem like this is at least for a couple of years.
They all make the same mistakes. They spray just about anything under the sun, anything they can find and douse those suckers to oblivion thinking they're going to show'm a little somethin' somethin.'
What tends to happen is they end up scattering the problem out in the long run making it worse the next go around.
Since ants are known to pack up their colonies and move elsewhere through out the house just over night it is no wonder they scatter about. Something like this takes can happen in a matter of a couple of months to a year.
Often the more they try to fix the problem themselves, the worse it becomes. By that time the owner gets so fed up with the whole thing they decided to call in the professionals. That's usually after they've spend hundreds of dollars on the do it yourself kits and not to mention the hours of time.
I'll come in and spend only thirty minutes at most.
Squirt here. Squirt gel there and be done with it and tell them to call if they have any problems. Often there are a few touch up services needed during this process.
“This isn't the worse of it,” she says. She opens a cabinet door. “Ever see ants this bad?”
My eyes widened at the sight. “Wow. That is bad.” I have seen ants pretty bad in the cabinets but I'm surprised they hadn't rebuilt her entire kitchen yet to be perfectly honest.
“I'll be able to fix that,” I said.
I did have my doubts. The longer I stayed here the worse the problem became.
“Wait. I'm not done.”
I couldn't wait to see what she had to show me next. “What else you got. Lay it on me.”
“They ate my dog last night.”
That one was a new one on me. I'm thinking of course they did lady. I bet you they just gobbled up poor ole Fido or Fi Fi or whatever. She must've saw the unbelief in my eyes.
“I''m serious.”
“I've never known ants to be able to eat pets.” Thinking, well now I know exactly what I'm dealing with. And she's a little touched in the head if you know what I mean.
Every once in a while we'll all come across somebody who is delusional. Wouldn't be the first time.
I had to play along and at least act like I was believing her. “Where did your dog sleep?”
I follow her to the next room. By the closet door there was her Fi Fi's bed. Large splotches of blood were splattered on the bedding.
“I heard him yelping last night and when I came out here to check he was gone. I knew it was them. I just knew it.”
I handed her a tissue as she started to cry and guided her to her living room and sat her down on the couch.
“Now, don't you worry about a thing. I'm going to take care of this.”
“Are you sure you're going to be able to fix this?”
“I'm positive.”
“Cause I sure spent a lot of money. I already paid on the phone.”
“You'll be fine.”
I left her there on the couch to regroup. She was still grieving over her lost dog. I thought if if an ant was able to walk off with her dog then I was going to need stronger juice.
I'm looking around,doing my inspection thing. I placed a bit of ant gel bait on the counter and watched the ants run right to it like a herd of cattle. They were feeding on it in no time which also meant that in a few days the problem would be gone.
I watched them pour out by the hordes.
Hundreds of them climbing out of the wall sockets along the counter. Coming out from under the counter, you know those little gaps nobody ever seals up.
In just a matter of seconds all the gel I put out was completely gone.
I added more. This time I laid out several more splotches. At least ten to twelve more. And watched them devour that.
I was beginning to think I wasn't going to have enough. I've never seen ants eat that gel bait up as quickly as they were.
I added more. This time I laid it in long streaks along the counter and watched as they grouped around it.
Another thing I noticed they weren't your typical odorous house ant. They were a little bigger. I was surprised at how big they were. It was possible I was dealing with a different species.
Not likely.
But possible.
The easiest way to tell if it really was an odorous house ant was to crush it and see if it had that smell.
I grabbed one of the ants and held it between my thumb and finger.
Crushed it.
I let it go immediately when it screeched.
I thought. Seriously, did I just hear an ant scream?
The thing fell on the floor and walked off.
I heard a scream outside.
“Come quick,” the lady said. She motioned me to come over to the window.
They were the largest ants I've ever seen. All big as a F-150 truck.
“That thing has Marge.”
Marge was her neighbor. The ant had ole Marge in it's jaws. Blood dripping from its mandible as it crushed her in half.
Then Marge disappeared down the ants throat.
An ant plowed through the house across the street. Splinters of wood flew up along with dust debris
“Ever see any ants that big?” she asked.
“No, mam. I'm afraid I haven't”
Upon seeing the large ants outside and what we surrounded by I immediately realized this house was their main nest and these were her young.
“Where is your basement?”
“Down there. But I don't ever go down there. Haven't been in a long time.”
“That may be the problem.”
Ants poured out from under the basement door. More were coming down from the ceiling. I was thinking that burning this house down wouldn't be such a bad idea after all.
She beat at the ants with a broom.
SMACK SMACK SMACK
Cursing them.
A couple of the ants stood up on their back legs and charged at the broom.
I opened the door and shined the light downstairs. I only had to go down a couple steps to see the place was crawling with ants.
I nearly fell down the stairs when the lady screamed.
I found her on the floor. Ants devouring her like she'd fallen in a river of piranhas. The ants tearing at her flesh. Ripping off large chunks.
Blood dripping form their mandibles.
I took out my can of high level pyrethrin and started dousing the douche-bags. By the time I got them off of her it was too late.
Nothing remained of the poor woman except for a skeleton.
When they were done with her they immediately turned on me.
Biting at my legs.
Tearing off large chunks of flesh. Mostly around my ankles.
I kicked at them but they just kept coming back. I squirted them with all the pesticide I had from my tin can. Still, the suckers were still moving.
It was like they were mutant creatures from another planet.
Maybe that's what it was. They flew down from outer space one night.
Realizing I wasn't going to get anywhere with these things I knew I was going to have to resort to more drastic measure.
I noticed her stove was gas. And then I thought that perhaps blowing up the entire house wasn't such a bad idea after all. I hated to think that the customer had been right all along and now she wasn't going to live to see their demise.
I turned the stove on and set the knob on high.
Most of the windows were closed except for the living room. I went ahead and shut it. Not a good time for any gas to be escaping.
Ants kept biting at my legs.
Tearing off my shoes.
One of them walked around with it in its mouth like it were some kind of dog.
I grabbed the co2 off the wall, pulled the pin and sprayed them down freezing the suckers. That was going to buy me some time to get the heck out of the house. The more I thought about it, the whole gas exploding thing didn't seem like that great of an idea.
Scratched that one.
I went to the garage to see what I could find and found a gas can sitting in the corner.
That'll do the trick.
I doused the the area entire house with the gas making a trail out the front door. I grabbed a match, struck it and tossed it into the puddle.
In no time the house was on fire. I watched the trail of fire making its way across the living room floor and into the kitchen.
Which immediately, I had forgotten about the gas stove in the kitchen and ran as far away from the house as I could.
The house went up in a mushroom cloud. Shaking the ground. Thank god there weren't no house next to it. The only houses that was affected was the one across the street where I'd seen the large ant attacking the old lady.
The explosion was large enough that something must've been off on that house too cause it went up in flames as well.
Black ant body parts soared through the sky along with wood timbers.
A mandible landed at my feet. I picked it up and carried it to my truck. That one was going to make a great souvenir.
I had never seen any ore ants in that neighborhood after that. It took a few days for the dozers to clean up the mess. When they did they didn't find any evidence of any large ants in the area. In fact I was told it was impossible for ants to get that large.
I on the other hand have to disagree.
Unfortunately, the authorities didn't believe any of what I said. That was okay. I have the large mandible and they told me that I could've gotten that anywhere. But the truth is, I can tell them anything and they still wouldn't believe me.


Friday, July 7, 2017

STORY #10 THE MID-NIGHT GORE SHOW

 THE MID-NIGHT GORE SHOW
WITH
THE BACKSTAB BUTCHER

“So, here we are with the one and only Mr. Backstab butcher. The cutter man himself.”
The audience claps.
“Thank. Thank you for having me. Glad to be here. So glad.”
“It's an honor to have you here. Such a fine cutting man.”
“Thank you so much. So much.”
“You've totaled over two hundred victims. Is that still correct?”
“Not quite. The one from last night hasn't been added yet so your one short.”
Audience claps. Laughs.
“Ohhh. You have an extra?”
“That's right. Drug addicted runaway girl. One of those I'm not getting my way with mommy and daddyo so I'm taking off to teach them a lesson.”
“Which is where you came in?”
“Gutted her like a fish.”
“Wow. You say that with such enthusiasm.”
“I do love my job.”
“We can see that. But don't you feel guilty about cutting up such a young innocent girl who can't defend herself?”
“You don't get in this profession if you feel guilty. Why you think they call me the Backstab Butcher?”
Audience laughs.
“I suppose that's so.”
“I was jonsing out bad. Been weeks since I had my cutter fix. She was an easy target and just happened to come my way. Just wasn't her day.”
“Tell us a little more about your victims.”
“Well. There were several types really. Young. Old. I suppose the only preference I have is I don't like to chase after them. The older. The better, that way they can't run as fast. Like that poor old lady I followed out in the Walmart parking lot late one night.”
“You followed an old lady in the parking lot?”
“She was well into her eighties. Swollen fingers and all from arthritis just hobbling long in her walker.”
“That's heartless dude.”
Audience boooos
“Hey, you all shut your mouths right now or I'll choose somebody from the audience and cut'm.”
“You gotta admit. You deserved that.”
“No way. I work hard at what I do. Stalking somebody and cutting them up when they're not looking isn't something a lot of people can do.”
“You gotta point. Tell us about another one of your victims.”
“You folks think you can handle it. I mean, you guys are bawling your butts off about the last one?”
“We'll be fine.”
“Another one was an old man.”
“First an old lady, now an old man?”
“Yep. Told ya I like'm old and crippled. He was in a wheelchair.”
“Man. You really are one demented dude.”
“Gotta love the business, man. Gotta love the business.”
“You seem to love it too much.”
“It's my life.”
“How'd you cut him?”
“I chopped his head off. He didn't know it either. There he was headless and rolling away down the street. The headless wheelchair man.”
Audience laughs.
“Wow. That is really something.”
“Thankya. Thankya very much.”
“Did you happen to cut anybody that you had to work at. I mean actually have to chase down?”
“Hmmm. Let me see. Hmmmmm. Tough question. I took care of a homeless couple sitting on a bench in Battery Park. Got two in one shot for that one.”
“Were they old too?”
“Not as old. In their seventies I think.”
“Did you ever have to sneak into a house and cut somebody while they were sleeping or took some time to study somebody's behavior and habits or anything?”
“Naaaaa. That's too much work.”
“Which is why you go for the older folks?”
“I suppose so. But it's not what you think.”
“How so?”
“ I like to think I'm helping them.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
“Like how?”
“Well. For one thing they already have their feet in the grave. Most are in pain and want to die anyway. Sometimes it's just the healthy genes that run in the family preventing them from doing so.”
“So you think what you're doing is a good thing?”
“Ohhh. It most certainty is.”
“You know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think you're a wimpy slasher. Don't you audience?”
Audience cheers.
“I am not wimpy. I'm a serious slasher here, I kick butt and take names. I stab'm in the back and don't look back.”
“You're a coward.”
“You don't talk to a professional slasher like that. Is that why you brought me on this show, to make fun of me?”
“Hey. It's part of the show.”
I deserve respect. I've been doing this for over nineteen years. I'm a professional in this business.”
“You're not a professional. You're a never has been never was and a never gonna be.”
“Watch your mouth you.”
“Whatchya gonna do?”
Audience goes.... Ohhhhhhh.
“I'll kill you.”
“In your dreams.”
“Up yours.”
“Is that the best you got?”
Hey. You folks wanna see some real slashin'? I'll show you some real slashin'?”
“That' what we were hoping to see.”
Audience cheers.
“Then lets do some slashin.”
“Show us your knife.”
“Here ya go.”
“What's that?”
“My knife.”
“Is that what you've been doing all your cutting with?”
“This the the baby right here.”
“That's a pocket knife. That tiny blade will barely just give you simple scratch.”
“This'll do the trick. Trust me.”
“You ain't no slasher. Get the heck outta here.”
“I am too a slasher. I'm the meanest of them all.”
“Where did we get this retard audience?”
Audience laughs.
“We have a surprise for you.”
“For me?”
“Bring him out, Will.”
Audience cheers and claps.
“Wait. What's going on here. I thought I was the main attraction of the show.”
Ohh. You are.”
“Then what's he doing here?”
“This here is the major leaguer of all slashers.”
“That's Charles Manson.”
“And your point is?”
“You can't use Charles Manson, He's insane.”
“Most slashers are. What's wrong with that?”
“The dude is off his rocker.”
“Yeah. And we have another special treat for you tonight. Ole Charles here is gonna do a slashing in public.”
Audience cheers.
“A slashin' in what?”
“A public slashin' He's going to demonstrate how he's done it in the past.”
“No way.”
“Take it away, Charles. Show the audience how it's done.”
“Time for some schooling, boy.”
“Get that dude away from me.”
“Audience laughs.
“I'm a gonna cut ya from the neck down to your crotch. Pull your innards out and wrap them around my neck like a necklace.”
Audience cheers.
“Now. That's what I'm talkin' bout. Ain't that right group?”
Audience roars with excitement.
“Wait a second. We can't do this. I was only foolin round. I'm not a real slasher. I made it all up. I never cut anybody in my life. Charles. Don't do this, Charles.”
“Guys like you is what gives us all a bad name.”
“Ouch. Stop that.”
“Jist gitten' started.”
“Ouch. Ouch.”
Audience laughs.
“Shoulda thought bout that fore you claimed yourself a slasher.”
“I'm sorry.”
“Very disrespectful.”
“I'm sorry. You can stop jabbing me with that knife now.”
“There you go. What do you say about that audience? Is this something or what?”
Audience claps.
“Charles no. I promise I'll be good from now on. I'll even sign up for your school for slashers.”
Audience laughs.
“Too late for that , boy. Now come to papapa.”
“No. No. Nooooooo.”
Audience cheers. Clapping.
CHOP CHOP CHOPETY CHOP....
CHOP CHOP CHOPETY CHOP
CHOPETY CHOPETY CHOPETY CHOP
“Thank ya, Charles. For helping us out tonight.”
“Glad I could help.”
“Harvey here will get this cleaned up in no time. What a bloody mess.”
“When I go. I go all the way.”
“Thanks again, Charles.”
“Peace out Bro.”