No I can not
tell you the name of the movie theater. You got to remember that I
was still drinking in those days and my mind was in a fog every
minute of the day every day of the week.
In those
days before I quit drinking I would every morning start wondering
around downtown looking for cans and plastic bottles to recycle. Of
course there was a bunch of us downtown doing that so I had to look
all day in all the trashcan. I would stop to have a drink from time
to time from my bottle that was left over from the night before.
I always
kept my eye open for the police. If they caught you with an open
bottle in public they would pour it out. In those days I would have
rather been hit over the head with a billy club than lose my bottle
of wine.
About an
hour before night fall I would take the cans and bottles to a recycle
yard near the water front and would cash them in.
Next I would
stop at a liquor store on Main street that I liked for some reason. I
got all my wine there.
In those
days I would wear my big old jacket that had the torn lining on the
inside of the left side. I would slip my bottle into that tear in the
lining so that no one could see the bottle in plain sight.
I would then
walk a block over to the corn of Market Street and Glass street.
Market in those days was an awful block. A lot of the stores were
boarded up or closed up because the places would be out of business.
There was a lot of junk shops. By night fall what few businesses
there was would be closed up and just about no one would be walking
around the street out there.
The only
business that was open on that block after dark was a rundown movie
theater. Really rundown. It looked like it was going to fall over
with the next rain storm.
When I would
get there would be a lot of people like me. Winos and junkies and
others who had no where to stay after dark.
A really
tall man with grey hair would open the door and every night would
yell the same thing to the crowd there:
"Admission
is five dollars each and anyone making trouble will be thrown out of
the theater. We close at 6AM."
I would
always buy a hot dog or two from the dirty looking snack bar. It was
run by a large angry looking woman. I don't know why she was always
angry looking. No one I can recall dared try to annoy her. She looked
too mean.
Many of the
people who came to the theater came every night like I did and
everyone had a favorite spot to sit. I like to sit near the back near
the door against the wall. When I dozed off I would lean against the
wall.
No one would sit
near me so I felt safe there.
They ran
only one movie at this theater. I guess since the place was mostly a
flop house for the homeless they figured it did not matter what film
they ran. It was a cheap looking slasher horror movie. I saw that
film every night that I slept in that theater. I saw it hundreds of
times over a two year span of time.
The print of
the film was really beat up and full of splices and jump cuts. It was
called something like BIKINI GIRLS GET KILLED.
I would
drink from my bottle and watch the movie every night till I passed
out. Many times I would wake up again and drink some more as I
watched more of it.
I can
remember every bit of that movie. I can replay the whole thing in my
head. It was about a maniac in a rubber skull mask who killed women
in bikinis. Every time a woman would put on a bikini you knew she was
going to die within five minutes.
"Mr
Johnson I need to go back to the office. Thanks for talking to me."
"No
problem. Has your boss said anything about me leaving here soon?"
"No not
yet. I will let you know if he tells me anything about it."
Doctor Jones
left the small room and made sure to lock the door behind him before
returning to the office.
At the
office he was met by Dr. Brown the head of the mental hospital.
"How is
he today?" He asked Dr. Jones.
"Pretty
much the same. He still believes that the murders were scenes from
movie that he believe he saw somewhere."
THE END.
Copyright 2015 By
Teel
Please do not
reprint or repost without permission.
This blog was recently called Mondo Manuscripts and was first known as Mondo-Tomica. I have written some books about odd motion pictures including THE SCHLOCK MOVIE BOOK and WEIRD MOVIES and some novels- Check them out on www.lulu.com/aronaamora - For those of you who might notice some links and post have been removed due to software problems. Copyright 2011-2019 by Teel.
Wednesday, September 30, 2015
Tuesday, May 26, 2015
THE VOODOO DOLL- A short story.
THE VOODOO DOLL.
Jennie was a waitress at the FOUR TOPP CLUB where I worked as a waiter. The only way to describe her was to say that she was very pretty. She was tall and slim with reddish hair. I fell for her right away. I did not know any better. I am one of those guys who always fall for the wrong woman. I always have and I think I always will. But I explain that part later.
Copyright 2015 by Teel.
Jennie was a waitress at the FOUR TOPP CLUB where I worked as a waiter. The only way to describe her was to say that she was very pretty. She was tall and slim with reddish hair. I fell for her right away. I did not know any better. I am one of those guys who always fall for the wrong woman. I always have and I think I always will. But I explain that part later.
The
big problem with her as I saw it was that she would not go out with
me.
She
always told me it was because she was being loyal to a boyfriend
called Ronnie. I never met him. She told me that he was a sailor that
was sent to a base on the east coast. She told me she did not want to
go out with anyone else.
She
gave me that excuse every time.
In
the back of my mind I must of known she just did not want to go out
with me. But you know how it is. Sometimes you just
ignore the obvious.
At
the time truth and real life seem to mean little to me. I wanted
everything to be going the way I wanted it to go. But then again who
doesn't want everything to go their way?
Even
though she would not go out with me she was always nice
to me. So I decided against all odds to keep asking her
out. I figured I would wear her down someday and she
would go with me. I guess I thought I had forever to wait
for that to happen. When you are young you always believe you got
plenty of time ahead.
But
she always told me no. She told me that she was always
going to be loyal to her boyfriend Ronnie.
I
started telling her that I was spending my free time sticking pins
into my Ronnie voodoo doll. She always thought that was funny.
Sometimes when his phone calls upset her she would ask me to go stick
another pin into it.
One
night when things were very slow at the club the two of
us were sitting at a back table in the nearly empty dining room. I
asked her out once again. I was not really surprised when she said no
once again. Deep down in me I kept hoping she would have a different
answer for me.
Someone
once told me that false hope was the worst kind of hope. I wish I
knew that then.
I
pulled out a small plastic bag I had in the pocket of my work apron.
From that I pulled out a small plastic sailor doll I found at a
thrift shop that afternoon. I had bought it for a dollar.
Here
it is. My Ronnie voodoo doll. I told her as I stuck a
hat pin into it's chest. I thought Jennie would never
stop laughing. She thought it was so funny at the time.
She
is gone now. She never return to the club after she went
east to her boyfriend's funeral.
He
died in a drunken barroom fight with a bartender who refused to serve
him anymore beer.
The
bartender stabbed Ronnie in the heart with an ice pick. It all happen
the night I stuck a pin into that sailor doll. It freaked her out
when she was told how he died. She would never talk to me again after
that.
I
use to mope around the club as I worked. I missed Jennie.
I missed her badly. I stopped my moping after one of the
waitresses told me that it was not really worth it. That all along
Jennie was going out with all sort of other guys and once when it was
suggested that maybe I could be fixed up with someone Jennie said
that it would be pretty hard to fixed me. That she could not think of
anyone would want to go out with me.
It
stung me that she said that. I should have known she would say and
think such things about me. At least now I could see that happening.
Not
long after that I got myself one of those cheap plastic model dolls
at a 99 cent store. The kind that are made to look sort of like the
Barbie Doll.
It
reminded me of Jennie.
For
a long time I kept it on the night stand by my bed.
And
every night I consider sticking a pin in it.
THE
END.
Copyright 2015 by Teel.
Sunday, April 26, 2015
THE SILENT VOICE. A short story.
THE
SILENT VOICE
Tor's
Quik Kash was just about the most seedy pawnshop on Warroff
Street. When Omar Steele walked into the place he really had
no intentions of buying anything there. He was low on cash
and just wanted to kill some time till the movie theater down the
street open. The first show of the day was only a dollar ninety nine.
He
was walking pass the glass showcase of knives when he first
heard it. It was a voice like that of a young woman. Sweet and low
the voice called out his name. It startle him. Mainly because women
rarely spoke to him.
The
last one to speak to him only wanted to inform him that she would
call the police if he did not leave her alone.
Omar
looked around but could not see any women in the seedy shop.
The only other person there was the pawnbroker who was
reading the race form at his desk. It had been a slow day for him and
he was bored.
He
did not bother to get up when Omar walked in because Omar looked like
a broke waste of time to the broker.
Omar
then heard the voice again. He looked into the showcase of
knives. The sweet voice was coming from the glass case. Among
the knives in the case was a unique dagger.
It
was eight inches long and it had a fancy carved whalebone handle. The
voice seem to be coming from the dagger. Omar found that strange. He
could not recall ever hearing a knife speak to him.
"Omar."
It silently said to him. "Buy me. Take me home with
you."
Omar
stared at the strange dagger for the next five minutes. To him it
seem like a thing of beauty. He paid the pawnbroker twenty
dollars and took the dagger home with him.
The
pawnbroker was glad to see Omar leave. He did not like the looks of
him. He looked too odd with his staring into the display case
and mumbling to himself.
Later
that night in Omar's shabby apartment the dagger talked to
him once again. Omar had been waiting for over three hours for it to
speak to him once again.
"Take
me out Omar. Put me in your pocket and we will go out for a
walk."
That
is what it told him. He did what it asked him.
Together
they walked out into the night.
They
walked for quite awhile. Back and fore around the block they
aimlessly wondered. It was becoming late. Normally steele did
not like walking alone at night. But with the dagger in his pocket he
did not feel alone. At three in the morning there was few other
people out on Warroff Street.
The
only other person walking along that block where Omar was
walking on was Mary Gibson. She was a cocktail waitress. She
was walking home alone from work. Weighted down by bill that
her ex husband left behind she was unable to afford a car of
any sort.
No
one in the surrounding buildings could hear the dagger calling
out to Omar. Urging him on as he stabbed the woman. But everyone
could hear the screams of the dying waitress.
The
police were at Omar's door. They were calling for him to give
himself up.
They
knew it was him.
People
looking out their windows saw him do it. Many people knew Omar by
sight. They told the police where he could be found.
"What
can I do?" Omar cried out to his bloodstain dagger.
It
said nothing to him. It was silent.
"Tell
me please...What can I do?" Omar was crying now.
"Use
me." Said the dagger. "Kill yourself and they can
never arrest you."
When
the police forced open the door to Omar's apartment they found
him dead in a pool of his own blood.
The
dagger was in his still warm hand.
THE
END.
Copyright
2015 By Teel.
Friday, April 24, 2015
SOON TO BE A MAJOR MOTION PICTURE. A short story.
SOON
TO BE A MAJOR MOTION PICTURE
Jack
did not like the movie at all. He thought it was bad television
schlock. Bottom of the barrel trash of the worst kind. At one point
he even consider turning off the TV set. But he decided he was going
to sit through it all just this once. He did it so he would not have
to make himself watch it in the future.
He
knew he would have to watch it.
At
the film's end the maniac was running through a room of
dead cheerleaders screaming and ranting at the top of
his lungs. The police rushed into the room and
surrounded him. After a fight in which three of the cops
were badly hurt the handsome detective punches the
maniac repeatedly in the face and arrest him. Four cops drag him away
in handcuffs as he swear revenge against the detective and the whole
police force.
The
film ended soon after that last scene and Jack turned off the TV set
as a commercial for diet cat food came on. He thought about sending
the network a letter about how much he disliked the movie.
A
little while later there was a knock on the door of
Jack's room.
"Hey
Jackson. Did you see the movie?" Said the man
through the door.
"Yes
I did." He said with an annoyed growl. "They
mixed up all the names, They got most of the facts wrongs, and that
ugly actor didn't look a thing like me!" Jack griped to the
guard.
THE
END
Copyright 2015 By Teel.
Tuesday, April 7, 2015
FOR $10,000. A short story.
FOR $10,000
Copyright 2015 by Teel
In the back pages of a large city newspaper there was a small plain ad listed the personal section.
It read: Men and women wanted who will do anything legal for $10,000 in cash. No selling or hard work. No fee will be asked for.
An open meeting will be held today at 3PM. Only the first 300 people will be seated at this meeting.
The ad ended with the address of a nice hotel located in the downtown area. People answering the ad were to meet in a large meeting hall there.
The room was set up with 300 folding chairs. A little more than half of them were full.
At 3 o'clock the doors of the hall were closed by a pair of tall men in black suits. They stood by the door and looked forward to the front of the room.
At the front of the room was a desk with a man dressed in white sitting there next to a pile of papers and a large box. Next to this desk was a microphone on a stand.
The man in white stood up and walked up to the microphone and began to speak.
Copyright 2015 by Teel
In the back pages of a large city newspaper there was a small plain ad listed the personal section.
It read: Men and women wanted who will do anything legal for $10,000 in cash. No selling or hard work. No fee will be asked for.
An open meeting will be held today at 3PM. Only the first 300 people will be seated at this meeting.
The ad ended with the address of a nice hotel located in the downtown area. People answering the ad were to meet in a large meeting hall there.
The room was set up with 300 folding chairs. A little more than half of them were full.
At 3 o'clock the doors of the hall were closed by a pair of tall men in black suits. They stood by the door and looked forward to the front of the room.
At the front of the room was a desk with a man dressed in white sitting there next to a pile of papers and a large box. Next to this desk was a microphone on a stand.
The man in white stood up and walked up to the microphone and began to speak.
"Will
everyone here still wandering around the room please sit down. There
should be enough chairs for everyone. I do not believe the room has
been filled.
If
not it will not matter. This will be a short talk in any case. My
assistants shall soon be locking the doors to this room and one will
be allowed to leave the room until the end of my talk with
you. So if anyone wishes to make use of the restroom now
would be the time to do so."
He
stood there for a minute. No one seem to want to leave the room. He
waved at the men in the dark suits and they locked the door of the
hall.
The
man in white once again began to speak.
"You
are all here because you read or heard of an ad I placed in the
newspaper. Everything in that ad is true. And within an hour you can
leave this room with ten thousand dollars in cash. The only way you
will leave this room without the money is if you do not want to take
it. No one here will force you to take the money."
"I
am not going to tell you my name. You do not need to know it and most
of you could not be able to pronounce it in any case. If I was to
give out my name I would soon become the target of many kooks and
weirdos. I am a business man and do not want to have my time taken up
by such people."
"I
am going to cut right to the facts of why I am here talking to you.
These are facts you may not believe. But you do not have to believe
anything I said today to make ten thousand dollars. You do not even
have to pretend to believe anything I tell you and you will still
walk out of here with ten thousand dollars in cash without having to
do anything but write down your name. You do not even have to use
your real name if you wish. I do not care. I will not ask to see an
I.D."
"I
am acting as an agent of the Devil. Yes the Devil. The Evil One. The
Beast of the Pit. Whatever you wish to call him. Young lady will you
please sit back down. The doors are going to stay locked until I am
finished. I told you all this at the beginning of this meeting. No
one is here to hurt anyone. I will be finished soon and you and
anyone else who wants to may leave right away. In fact I would want
you to leave. People who do not want the money will just be in the
way at that point."
"I
am not a crazy man. But even if I was I still have a few million
dollars in cash right here and I will give ten thousand dollars in
cash to anyone who is willing to just sign their name to a simple
contact that states that you will hand over you soul after death to
me to sell, trade or use as I wish. Nothing else at all is require
and no you do not have to sign with your blood. This is not some
cheap occult movie."
"This
is completely confidential. No one outside of room will know about
this and you will never be bother by any representative of my
organization in your lifetime how ever long that may be. I promise
you that."
"If
you still think that I am crazy that is alright. Go ahead and believe
so if that will make you feel better about this offer. You will still
make ten thousand dollars in cash if you want it. You do not have to
believe a single word I say to you today.
"A
lot of you in this room may be going to Hell anyway. Why not
earn some money for it if you are going anyway. Money to
spend and enjoy in this lifetime. And for those of you who do not
believe in God anyway. What have you got to lose? You got a lot to
gain and nothing to lose with this deal. As I stated nothing will be
required of you in your life time. Many of you I believe will lead
long lives."
"The
doors will now be open and anyone who wishes to leave may now
do so. Everyone else please form a single line in front of that table
where my helpers will be sitting and waiting to help you. I have cash
waiting for you just as soon as you sign you name. That is all you
have to do. Sign and a stack of cash will be handed to you."
"And
like I said. If you wish you do not have to use your correct name on
the contract. It is alright to use a fake name."
"When
the time comes no matter what name you use we will find you."
The
doors of the hall were opened up just then and a quite a few people
went out of the place in a hurry.
Meanwhile
a long line formed in front of the desk.
THE
END
Thursday, March 26, 2015
THE HOUSE AT THE END OF THE BLOCK. A short Story.
THE
HOUSE AT THE END OF THE BLOCK
Sam
Loward's funeral was a very short one and there was only
a few mourners beyond Loward's mother and his cousin
Lisa. Sam really did not know many people.
He
really did not care to know many people. Lisa
was glad that it was finish early in the day.
Aside
from wanting to get away from the depressing atmosphere
of the funeral home she wanted to get to the business of
cataloging the artwork of her cousin Sam.
She
wanted to get it over with as soon as she could.
Sam
Loward's small home was at the very end of a dead end
street in one of the older parts of town. It was all
alone there since the other houses around it burnt down
to the ground in a huge fire that swept through the
neighborhood about five years ago. It was a strange
miracle that Sam's house was not touched by the flames.
The
other houses were not rebuilt due to a series of on going lawsuits
over the fire. Loward did not seem to miss having
neighbors at all.
Lisa
drove into the driveway. She sat in the car for a little
while. She was feeling strange. She came to this place
about once a month over the years to look in on her
cousin Sam. She felt it was a duly as a close relative to
check up on him. He almost never left the house except to
go to work. It seem odd to her to be there knowing that
Sam would not be home and never would be there again.
An
odd feeling came over her. It was the same feeling she felt during
the funeral.
She
got out of the car and walked across the unkempt lawn of dry dead
grass and walked up to the door of the small house of white peeling
paint. In all the time Sam lived there he never painted the house.
Know Sam she thought he just never cared that the paint was peeling
or that the grass was dead. Those were not things he cared about.
She
had no real wish to be there if Sam was not there. She
was there only as a favor to her aunt. For more than ten years Sam
had locked himself in this little house and worked on his paintings.
Those paintings were his whole life. He left the house only to work
and worked only to pay rent and buy art supplies. Sam's
mother had never liked Sam's paintings which she consider
unwholesome and wanted them out of the way as soon as
possible. Had Lisa not talked her out of it she would have
had all the paintings burned in one large bonfire.
Lisa
being an artist herself could not allow the paintings to
be burnt. It was unthinkable to her to destroy the lifetime work of
any artist. Beside it was her cousin Sam who taught her to draw. She
owed it to him to save his artwork. They were the only things that
had matter to him. He really had nothing else. He really wanted
nothing else.
Lisa
unlocked the door and after a half a minute of thinking
it over she walked into the house. It was like walking
back into the funeral home.
Inside
she found the living room as always bare of furniture
except for a chair and a large wood table. On the table was a pile of
art supplies and paints just sitting there waiting in vain for Sam to
come and use them again.
Lisa
made a mental note to herself to take them for herself
before she left.
Other
than those few items the room contain hundreds of
paintings. They were piled one against the other along
the walls of the living room. A dozen of the best were
framed and hanging on the walls of the living room and
the other rooms in the small house.
Most
of the pictures were only in black and white. Some had a
little gray and maybe some red. Only a few were in full
color. All the pictures were of monsters.
Demons, giants,werewolves, and many indescribable. No
people. Sometimes something half human appeared in Sam's
canvas fantasies.
Lisa
thought back to the time her cousin Sam first started
those paintings. He was about 13 and she was eight. Sam
as a young man use to watch reruns of the old black and
white monster movies on television. As far as Lisa knew
he never bother to go out to see a movie in a theater.
He never seem to leave the house.
He
taught her to draw the monsters he drew. Over the years
Lisa practiced her artwork and became a commercial
artist. Sam never progressed beyond drawing the monsters. He did not want to. The monsters were his one obsession
in art and in his life. From between the age of 13 he
rarely left his home except for school. He would not
have gone if he had not had to.
He
never went out on weekends or out for dates. Lisa wondered if he
ever wanted to go out on dates. She could not imagine him talking to
a woman.
Day
after day as a young man he sat in his room making
sketches of monsters. After sometimes 20 or 30 sketches
he would slowly make a painting from those sketches. He
would work and rework a painting till he got it just the
way he wanted.
At
age 20 he moved away from his mother's home. She wanted
him to stop painting and take some interest in life
outside of painting. She wanted him to travel and meet people. She
felt his artwork was a sick substitution for a normal life. She was
right of course.
But
he did not care about leading a normal life. And he did not want to
listen to her nag him about it.
He
wanted no one to interfere with his painting. He got
himself a job dish washing at a restaurant and rented
this small house so he could paint in peace.
His
mother rarely saw him after he moved away. Once a year he would mail
her a card on Mother's Day. He only lived six blocks from her. The
post office where he bought his stamps was seven blocks away.
Only
his sudden death in that bus crash could make him stop
painting. Only his death could separate him from his
artwork. When his life flashed before his eyes in those
last few seconds he most likely saw his paintings.
Lisa could feel Sam's presents in the small living room.
Lisa did not believe in ghosts. But she did have a
strange feeling as if he was in the room with her. As if
he was unwilling or unable to part from his paintings.
They were his whole life. He would have never willingly
left them behind. Only death could make him do that.
They should be out where the public can see them. Lisa
thought. When an artist dies his work stays behind to
tell the world he was here.
Lisa
then went about the business of cataloging the paintings
for the art dealer. She hoped Sam's paintings would find
their way into the hands of those who would enjoy them.
Otherwise they would end up in the back of Lisa's garage.
After
hours of sorting through the paintings she was surprise to find one
painting that was not of a monster. It was hidden alone in a closet
as if Sam did not want any one to see it except for himself.
It
was a painting of Lisa as a young woman.
THE END.
Copyright 2015 By Teel.
Tuesday, March 24, 2015
THE UNDERSTUDY. A short Story.
THE
UNDERSTUDY
The
Old World Theater was running a production of Hamlet. The Old
World Theater was known through out the state for it's fine
Shakespearean productions.
Tony
Franklin was the director of the play. He was unset this
evening. It was ten minutes till the curtains went up and Johnson
Synblood the star performer was nowhere to be found.
Franklin
was not only upset that Synblood had not shown up. He was
worried also. He had never known in all the plays over the years he
worked with Synblood of him ever being late. He wondered if something
had happen to him.
He
could not imagine anything short of death stopping Synblood from
being there. Franklin could imagine a gang of kidnappers holding
Synblood captive. Franklin figured that only that would keep Synblood
away.
Ben
Freekson who worked as Synblood's understudy
was
getting ready to take synblood's place. To said that Freekson
was thrilled would be a gross understatement. Never in the six
month run of this production of Halmet had missed a single
performance. He even worked the daytime shows that usually featured
the understudies. Many people believed that Freekson resented Synblood
for never giving him the chance to play the lead role of Hamlet. It
was very lucky for Freekson that Synblood did not show up for the
last performance of the play. It was his very last chance to play the
leading role. A role any actor would kill for as the saying goes.
The
curtains went up on time with Freekson playing the role of
Hamlet. Many people felt that Freekson did a good job in the role.
But no one thought he was as good an actor as Synblood in the role.
Many ticket holders asked for a refund because they were disappointed
that Synblood was not performing.
After
the play a cast party was thrown by the backer of the play and
the entire cast and crew was there. That is everyone except for
Synblood and Sam Porter who worked as the prop man for the play.
As
Franklin was downing his second drink Sam called him over to
look at something. At first Sam tried to pretend that he did not hear
him. But Franklin realized that Sam was upset. Though that was not
really unusual.
"What
is it Sam? Is there something missing again?" Sam took
pride in keeping a close eye on all the props. Sometimes the
crew would hide props from him to tease him.
"Look
at this Tony." Sam said as he pointed to the skull used
in the 'Alas, poor Yorick' scene of the play. "Well what about it?" Franklin could not understand
why six months after the show started that Sam would be
pointing out the prop skull to him. Franklin wanted to go on to his
third drink.
"It's
not our prop skull. In fact it's a real one."
"A
real one?" Franklin took a closer look at it.
Franklin
was not sure what a real skull would look like. He was pretty sure
what a bullet hole would look like. There seem to be one in the head
of the skull over the left eye.
A
few days later the police matched the dental x-rays of the
skull to the dental x-ray charts of Johnson Synblood.
His
headless body was found buried in the cellar of Ben Freekson's
home. Synblood who had never missed a performance was there after
all.
THE
END
Copyright
2015 By Teel.
Thursday, March 19, 2015
THE DEMON IN THE NIGHT. A short story.
THE DEMON IN THE NIGHT.
The sun had just come up and the shadows were still long across the landscape.
The sun had just come up and the shadows were still long across the landscape.
It
was early in the morning. Tony always got up early when
he went out to look for cans. He knew of at least three
other caners in the area who were also looking for cans
and would grab them all up for their selves if he did
not get started before dawn. Of course Tony kept all the
cans for himself too.
Today
Tony was looking for cans along the train tracks. His
large plastic bag was almost half full with mostly still
damp beer cans people had left behind after a night of
partying out here where there was not one to check IDs.
He
found the cans one at a time for the most part. Then he
came across a pile of beer cans along the side of the
tracks. He placed his bag down and started to flatten the
cans underneath his worn out dusty shoes.
As
he picked up the cans he notice a dead cat. It seem to
have just died. The blood was still fresh around it. It
looked as if it was gutted.
Tony
picked his bag back up and walked on. Very shortly he
came across another dead cat. Then another. Then there
was a spot along the tracks where there was about three
or four more dead cats lying around. Tony
was wondering why there should be so many dead cats in
one spot. His wondering was interrupted by the sound of
something running toward him. He turned around.
The
only thing he saw before he died was the large yellow
teeth wrapping their selves around his face.
The
creature was spitting out blood as it ran along side the
tracks. It had eaten too much and was feeling sick. The
was sun was up and it was afraid. It always stayed
hidden in the bushes in the daylight so no one would see
it.
It
ran across the tracks and got behind the bushes where he
had been hiding since he came to this place.
A
train drove by the bushes a little while later. As the
creature watched the train cars drive by it dozed off to
an uneasy sleep. It dreamed of home.
The
police picked up the pieces of the dead tramp and carried them away
in plastic bags. They looked at all the dead cats and decided that a
pack of dogs had killed the cats and the tramp looking
for cans had also been attacked by the dogs.
The
owner of the dead cat disagreed. She told the policemen
that the dead cats and the man could have only been
killed by a group of satanists. She told them that they should not be
blinded by the Devil. That all good Christians knew the works of the
Devil. And she was a good Christian.
The
policemen told her that they will put it down in their
report.
For
the next week the policemen would crack each other up by
doing imitations of the woman.
As
the creature laid behind the bushes it dreamed of home. It dreamed it
was home again. It was back in it's hut with it's mother and sisters
and brothers. Outside the window of the hut the two suns shined
brightly. It was never dark at home.
It
enjoyed the dreams of home and often was sad upon
awakening from them.
At
the church bake sale Karen Toseli told everyone about
how demon worshipers killed her cats. She told about how
demon worshipers needed good Christian cats in order to
do their evil rites against good people like herself.
The
new preacher tried to get Karen to calm down. She was
frightening the children with her talk of demons and the
end of the world coming soon.
She
told him that she was doing God's work and if he was a good Christian
he would be warning people there about the demons around
and among them.
She
told the preacher that the Devil made him blind to the truth and that
he had no business being a preacher.
After
she walked away from him she stop to shake the dust off her shoe.
Just like they said to do in the Bible when leaving unbelievers.
It
had a nightmare. It dreamed about the weird people who
caught him in a net and put it into a cage. It dreamed
about being in a darkroom wondering what was going to
happen. Then the flash of light and then the fire. It dreamed of
running away from the wreckage of the spacecraft. The
horror of finding itself on a strange unknown world. The
horror of not knowing the way back home.
When
the creature awoke it was dark again. It hated the dark.
But the dark was the only time it could roam around free
without being seen. The weird upright creatures here
frighten it and it wanted to avoid them. The
creature walked along the train track. It was hoping to
find some more of the small furry animals to eat. The
large weird creature he ate tasted terrible.
It
heard the meow of a cat. It ran toward the sound. Suddenly a loud
blast filled the air. It fell across the train tracks dead. A large
shotgun wound across it's chest.
A
few minutes later the police came out and found Karen
carrying around a shotgun. She told them that she shot
the demon the satanists called up. She then started to meow like a
cat.
She
was going to tell them about how she got the demon to come to her by
making cat noises but they were not listening to her anymore.
They
took the shotgun away from her and drove her to the
mental hospital. They told the doctor that she was
meowing like a cat and waving around a shotgun.
A
train ran over the body of the creature. The rats took care of the
rest. There was nothing after awhile except for bones for anyone to
find. That is if anyone cared to go looking for the demon that Karen
Toseli kept ranting about.
On
a planet far from Earth a mother wonders whatever happen
to it's youngest offspring. The other mothers of
the village warn their small ones to beware of the
strange creatures from beyond who would take them away
from their home.
THE
END
Copyright 2015 By Teel.
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