Welcome to Round Fourteen Boys and Ghouls!

[RedneckDiva]

Tommyknockers did nothing for me. I've tried to read it multiple times and end up with it abandoned by the 20th page. I did like Dreamcatcher, though. The movie stunk like a festering boil on the butt of a hobo, though.

[smalls]

yeah i could never get into tommy knockers either...

hmm tricia.. i may try to write a story.. im not into writting long things anymore.. i shall try though.. if my poison ivy pisses off and i could concentrait and figure out what the hell those words mean

[sidra]

oddly enough, something came straight to me. i hope it's not too long. me first me first me fiiiiirst!

[ThatWickedWench]

I KNOW, right?


ZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzz

I mean I LOVE Halloween, you'd think I could come up with something in my spare time.. oh wait, what's that? Spare time? LMFAO

RIGHT!

Monday it is then. Thank you Tricia hon.. and you all send much love to CHAOS as she is feeling under the weather and needs our support!!!!

[sidra]

SG1

Jeff sat in the lobby of the nursing home, balancing the large vase of flowers awkwardly in his lap, waiting for his mother and Teri to come back. They were still arguing outside in the car. Mom was insisting that Teri and Jeff say nothing to Aunt Sandy about her brother dying. Teri was being stubborn; she thought it was cruel to hide the truth from Aunt Sandy. But Jeff knew that his mother’s will would prevail in the end; it always did. He never argued with her. And, eventually, Mom would convince Teri that the news would be too devastating for Aunt Sandy to take; she and Grandpa had always been very close. Even after Aunt Sandy was diagnosed and put here, Grandpa still came to see her every day. He was the only family member she ever remembered. But that was before his heart gave out. They’d buried him two days ago. Jeff hadn’t made the funeral. He’d been in the hospital.

That was why this place made him feel uneasy. Even though it was designed to look comforting and pleasant, like someone’s living room, there was still something about it that reminded him of the hospital. He tightened his hands around the vase and felt the faint burn of pain from the stitches in his arms.

“Hello,” came an amicable elderly voice from beside him. He turned to see an old woman with short, curling grayish-blue hair and watery pale blue eyes sitting next to him, smiling vacantly. Her face was pale and creased with wrinkles, and her lips were chapped and scabbed. She was wrapped in a dirty baby blue sweater that was too big, and the sight of her made Jeff unbearably sad.

“Um… hello,” he said in return, attempting to smile back. The old woman’s eyes didn’t quite meet his, but seemed to be fixed at an invisible point above his left shoulder. To his great consternation, she reached out and grasped his arm with her skeletal, blue-veined hand. Her grip was rather strong for an old woman’s.

“You’re my grandson?” she smiled. Jeff suppressed a sigh. He’d been afraid something like this would happen when Mom and Teri went out. This was what he hated about nursing homes. They were so depressing; full of old, lonely sick people. This old lady probably asked every single young man that came into this place if he was her grandson.

“No, ma’am,” he said as kindly as he could, “I’m here to see my Great-Aunt.”<br>
“Oh, well,” the old lady shrugged, not looking to terribly upset by this fact. “I have a grandson, you know, that I haven’t seen in a long time. He’d be about your age by now. I always come out here every day and think maybe he’ll be here. Maybe tomorrow he’ll be here.” She still didn’t let go of his arm. “I’m actually glad that you’re not him.”<br>
“You are?” Jeff asked in surprise, before he could help himself.

“Oh, dear me, yes,” she said. “Demons are swirling around you in a black mist. Death is riding on your shoulder. You’ve been marked.” She said all this as calmly and as cheerfully as if she were discussing a trip to the park. “It’s very sad to see, actually. Us older folk, well, we’ve had our time. But to see an eighteen-year-old with the Curse… it’s very sad.” She let go of his arm and took one of his wrists gently in her hands instead. “There are the black feathers… those are Death’s feathers. It’s already touched you.” She patted his arm again and let him go. “I’m sorry, Jeffrey.” She slowly stood, grasped her walker, and stumped away, making her long arduous way across the lobby back to the doors that led back to the nursing home rooms themselves. Jeff stared after her. The things she’d said about demons and death were probably just the ravings of an old senile woman, but… how had she known how old he was? How had she known about his suicide attempt? How had she known his name?

“Jeffrey!” Jeff jumped in surprise, nearly dropping the vase of flowers. But it was only his mother, who was perfectly entitled to know his name, bustling into the lobby in a self-satisfied way that let him know that she had won the argument with Teri. Teri followed, her long hair barely hiding the sullen expression on her face. Jeff was hardly disposed to edify his mother, but he at least knew better than to argue with her. Teri was a few years younger than him, and she hadn’t learned that yet. She wanted to rebel against their mother in everything; when Jeff was in the hospital their mother had told people that “Jeffrey had had an accident,” while Teri was more disposed to tell people the truth.

“Jeff tried to kill himself and I don’t blame him,” she’d say if anyone asked her. Jeff had told her when he got out that he preferred her version of events as opposed to his mother’s, but maybe everyone else didn’t. After that, Teri refrained from mentioning Jeff’s hospital time at all.

“Well, let’s go see your Great-Aunt,” Jeff’s mother said smilingly, taking the vase of flowers from Jeff. “Remember not to mention Grandpa,” she said, suddenly stern, looking into Jeff’s eyes.

“I won’t,” Jeff promised for about the fifth time.

“Who was that old lady you were talking to?” Teri asked, as their mother went to get a nurse to take them to Aunt Sandy’s room.

“Just a lonely old lady,” Jeff replied, not sure why he was lying to Teri. He didn’t want to talk about how frightened that sad old woman had made him feel. “She wondered if I was her grandson.”<br>
***

The nurse led them down the hall towards Aunt Sandy’s room, talking to Jeff and Teri’s mother while they followed mutely behind. It seemed to Jeff that the hall was on an incline, and they were going underground as they walked down the endless white corridors. The eerie moaning of old people emanated from the rooms they passed, and Jeff and Teri unconsciously drew closer together.

“Great place,” Teri muttered under her breath. “Utterly fucking fabulous.”<br>
“I should tell you that Miss Sandy’s not been doing too well the past few days,” the nurse was saying. “So you should keep your visit short.” They finally stopped walking down the hall and went into a room, the nurse leading them. The lights were dim in the room; the nurse had explained earlier that Aunt Sandy couldn’t stand the light.

“Knock, knock, Miss Sandy!” the nurse said cheerfully. “You got some family here to see you!”<br>
“I have no family.” A cracked, elderly voice came from a stooped black figure sitting on the far bed. She was dressed completely in black, and was bent over something on her lap, working at it with her hands. When Jeff came closer, he saw that she was engaged in folding her bed sheet back and forth, in sort of an accordion shape.

“Well, you many not remember, Miss Sandy, but you’ve got family here, all right,” the nurse said in that same cheerful tone. “I’ll be back in a few minutes,” she said softly to Jeff’s mother, slipping quietly out the door and leaving the three of them alone in the dimly-lit room with the bent, twisted shape on the bed.

“Hi, Aunt Sandy!” Jeff’s mother said in the smiling voice the nurse used. “Remember me? I’m Nancy, Martin’s daughter; your niece. Remember?” Aunt Sandy said nothing, just started humming brokenly to herself and continued folding the sheet. “These are my children; Teri, your great-niece, and Jeff, your great-nephew.” She looked up briefly at the mention of Jeff’s name, and Jeff got his first full view of her face. He hadn’t seen her since she had been put in the nursing home, when he was only ten or so, but he never remembered her looking so frightening. She was so pale that even in the half-light her face was pale as the moon, her veins and wrinkles running black along its surface. Her eyes were two milky-yellow orbs bulging from her face. It was no surprise that Teri jumped back and screamed. Aunt Sandy seemed unperturbed by Teri’s outburst, and returned to her folding.

(continued...)

[sidra]

SG1 (continued)

“Teri!” Jeff’s mother burst out. “Excuse us just one moment, Aunt Sandy,” she said, grabbing Teri’s arm and handing Jeffrey the vase of flowers again. “Jeffrey, stay and keep your Great-Aunt company. Teri, you should be ashamed…” she began lecturing, even though she seemed unnerved by Aunt Sandy’s presence as well.

“I tole Martin not to have children,” Aunt Sandy croaked. “I never did. Thought maybe I'd spare 'em. Should have known better.”<br>
“Um, we got you flowers,” Jeff said awkwardly, after a brief, silent, tense moment. “Daffodils. Momma said you like those best.”<br>
“They’ll die,” the old woman said hoarsely.

“I guess,” Jeff replied, not knowing what else to say. He hoped it wouldn’t take long for his mother to lecture Teri. “Why,” he said, after another small silence, “are you folding that sheet?”<br>
“It’s for my brother,” she answered, which Jeff hadn’t expected. “He needs it.” It was only then, looking closer, that Jeff realized the folded sheet looked like the lining of a coffin. He felt a shiver pass through him.

“For… for what?” Jeff felt obliged to ask.

“I know he’s dead,” Aunt Sandy said, almost angrily. “It tole me he was dead. It tells me when ever’one dies. It comes here an’ tells me all their names. It come in ridin’ on your shoulder today. It’s already marked you as its own, boy. It’ll come to you next.”<br>
Jeff shivered again, remembering the words of the old lady in the lobby. “What?” he said, his voice barely a whisper.

“Death, boy! Death been comin’ to me every day nearly all my life, tellin’ me all the names of the folks it took. It’s up there now!” She pointed to the darkest corner of the room. “See it there, in the rafters? It’s perched up there grinnin’ at us, boy! It’s gonna start saying those names… oh, God!” She stopped folding the sheet and clutched at the air with claw-like hands. “No, not my name! I haven’t told him everything! God, not yet! Oh, sweet baby Jesus, not yet!” She started weeping and crying out uncontrollably.

Jeff knew that he should probably get someone, but he couldn’t move. He could only stare at his Great-Aunt while she moaned and waved her hands in the air as if she was trying to fend off some invisible horror. For an instant, Jeff thought he saw a black creature perched on top of the old woman in the bed, all bony grin and black feathers, removing some mote of light from her mouth. Then all was as it was, and his Great-Aunt cried out once more and fell senseless back into her bed. Jeff felt something warm start to trickle down his wrists.

“Mom!” Jeff, suddenly freed from his paralysis, staggered back towards the door, dropping the vase of daffodils. “Momma!” He ran out of the room, yelling. His mother and Teri were down the hall a bit, Teri slouched against the wall while their mother lectured her on the proper way to behave around old folks.

“Jeffrey!” his mother said, turning away from Teri, “not you, too!”<br>
“Momma, she collapsed,” Jeff gasped, feeling a nameless horror rise within him. “Momma, I think she’s dead.”<br>
***

Jeff carefully washed the brown blood from his hands, and then, more gingerly, the dried blood around his stitches on his forearms. He wasn’t really supposed to be messing with them, but no one had noticed that they had started bleeding in all the excitement surrounding Aunt Sandy’s death. He didn’t want to tell anyone, and it had stopped soon afterwards. It had made him tired. And scared. He wrapped new gauze around them and started getting ready for bed.

“Hey.” He was stopped at his bedroom door by Teri’s voice. “Are you all right?”<br>
“Yeah,” he said, lying. He somehow thought he would be lying to his sister a lot from now on, and the thought didn’t really appeal to him. “I’m fine. Just tired.”<br>
“Tired, whatever,” Teri snorted. “Momma shouldn’t have brought you out to a nursing home right after you just got out of the hospital.”<br>
“My fault,” Jeff said, shaking his head. “I told her I wanted to go. I wanted to act normal, you know, after Grandpa dying and all.”<br>
“Well, cut that shit out,” Teri said. “Take it easy tomorrow, okay? You don’t look so good.”<br>
“Right,” Jeff said, going into his room, “good night.” He closed the door and slowly undressed. He thought he heard the rustle of feathers go past him as he took his shirt off. He thought he heard a creak from somewhere above his bed, as if a great flying creature had perched up there. He started shaking. He knew what he heard was real, even though he couldn’t see it. He lay down in his bed, and looked up. Instead of the low, white ceiling he was used to, he looked up into a huge dark dome, crisscrossed with roof beams and rafters. A black, bony creature grinned down at him, surrounded by black feathers.

“Today I took Sandra Pole,” it breathed in a voice like a tomb door.

“I know,” Jeff whispered in reply. He reached out and turned out his bedside lamp. He knew that it didn’t like the light.

[HIM]

I like it. It's better than I could've come up with.

[Chaos]

I'm sorry, guys...I guess I won't be posting a story this Round. I'm feeling a whole LOT under the weather, and I can't seem to focus on anything long enough to get my story down on paper.

I'm sorry, Paige! I really wanted to post a story using your wonderful words, but I just can't do it...hopefully, next Round will find me feeling better and able to write again.

I will come back to vote, though, I promise!

[Tricia]

Okay folks.... what is up?

To make this round a little easier we will remove the genre... Halloween has passed anyway.

And I will keep the forum open until Thursday.

I actually have started writing... I have 5 sentences and boy are they good!

So go write about anything you want, you have until Thursday night, but you still MUST use the word list.

See you soon!

[ThatWickedWench]

Oh thank you! This weekend was miserable for me.. well it was going well until Saturday. It was Saturday that I knew I was not going to have a story by Monday. Had some minor family issues to attend to and had to miss out on a FABULOUS evening of fun and frights with Mystix.. I am still upset about that, and the rest of the weekend involved paying bills and rescuing stranded kittens... (sigh) anyway I will have a story I hope.. and I'm going to try and stick with the genre thing even though it was lifted.. because after all I DID see SAW on Friday and that movie freakin ROCKED!

[Tricia]

The Grudge was scary as HELL!

I didn't even see it... went twice... everybody else was so scared coming out that I didn't go yet.

I figure 'The Grudge' and 'Saw' should be good inspiration. I'll go tonight!

[ThatWickedWench]

Wench1

Sara awoke with a start. Pain throbbed loudly and sickeningly in her head, as she opened her eyes and surveyed the surroundings. This proved difficult, as the space she was in happened to be unnaturally dark.

She sat up straight- Fuck! Big mistake! Sara groaned in pain and placed a hand tenderly to the place that hurt the most, behind her left ear. She pulled her hand away slowly; it was sticky with a gob of not so fresh blood. The volume of throbbing pain was intense, having increased with her sudden movement.

Sara’s eyes began to adjust somewhat, and she started to make out dim outlines of objects around her. She sensed a large open space over her head, from which occasional drafts of almost amicable fresh air would drift down, momentarily splitting apart the musty scent of mildew. She discovered that the floor she sat upon was actually hard packed dirt. She thought she could make out the outlines of rafters or support beams above her as well.

A wave of nausea overcame her then, and she lurched forward gagging. Where in the Hell WAS she? And how had she come to be in this place? She reached beyond the nagging pain and tried to remember anything at all, but all she seemed to recall was leaving her girlfriend’s house in the afternoon.. But was it THAT afternoon? How many days had passed? She had no clue.

Her last lucid memory was of their kiss goodbye as she was about to pull out of the driveway in the little putter car that her monthly salary afforded her.

Sara’s relationship with Ali was special and very private. The time they had together was often very brief and always secluded because noone in her family, Hell the TOWN would ever approve of such a lifestyle. And such was the same in Ali’s case. Hell Ali’s dad was a pastor. Noone would ever be open-minded enough to accept their relationship! She couldn’t talk to anyone at school about it and neither could Ali. It was something only they could understand. There was simply no way to edify their feelings for each other. So they didn’t plan to try.

Today? Yesterday? They had spent two hours together alone at Ali’s house. Ali’s dad was gone doing some missionary work with some of his church friends, and her older brother, Dale was off with some of his college buddies. Ali and Sara took that opportunity to curl up together at her house on the backyard swing..stealing forbidden kisses and learning about each other’s secret desires. Times like these were precious to them. On that day, for the first time, Ali had let Sara go down on her. It was so erotic, to finally be allowed to taste first hand that creamy sweetness that Ali possessed. It was like nothing Sara had ever experienced before, and despite Ali’s initial trepidation, she couldn’t hide the fact that she loved it as well.

“Mmmm, Ms Sara” she had moaned in ecstacy, her lithe body stretched in a reclined position along the swing, “why haven’t we done this sooner?” Sara remembered answering Ali with a teasing tongue jiggle in the appropriate place..

Sara smiled at the memory, and simultaneously winced in pain. The reality of her situation had hit her. Someone had done this to her. Someone had attacked her and brought her to this place and..and.. where ARE all the fucking windows? Her vision finally adjusted, She now was able to ascertain that this ‘room’ she was in had no windows and seemingly, no doors either. Tears of consternation flooded her eyes but she mopped them up with her dirty sweater sleeve. She had to hold it together if she was going to figure this shit out.

Feeling in her left pocket, Sara found her cell phone and felt her heart leap with joy. She pulled it out, flipped it open and discovered with dismay that there was absolutely no signal.

Fabulous. Just her fucking luck. What in God’s good name had she DONE to deserve this?

God. She thought a minute- why would God have anything to do with her anyway? She was a sinner. She was having a lustful, sexual relationship with another female. God didn’t have pity for her..in fact He was probably laughing at her this very moment, if he was so inclined.

Sara’s head felt like it was in a vice, it hurt so fucking bad! She was sure to need stitches when she got out of this. She made an arduous attempt to stand up and search for an exit..of course there HAD to be a way out. There had been a way IN, right?

She literally came to the end of her rope as she fell back to the earth. Something had prevented her from moving too far from her position on the floor. She felt along her leg and came to a large iron bracket encircling her right ankle. Tugging at the shackle, she realized that it was chained to something very heavy on the floor adjacent to her. She was tethered like an animal.

She squinted her eyes and forced them to see what she was chained to.

Sara’s blood chilling screams of terror pierced the darkness and reverberated throughout the room, ironically bouncing off the walls and slamming back into her aching head causing her even more pain. She backed frantically away, scooting on her ass, but with every jerk she made to get away from the other end of the chain, the dead weight would move with her, panicking her even more.

Sara was chained to Ali.

Ali was dead.

The body that had been Sara’s playground oh so recently, now lie there bruised and battered, broken and bloody. Her killer had left her lying there naked and spread eagled after apparently performing twisted acts of disfiguration upon her body. A large puddle of blood was starting to congeal under Ali’s once beautiful golden mane. It appeared that someone had beaten her about the head to where she was almost unrecognizable. It also appeared that they knew of Ali and Sara’s forbidden pleasures...Sara’s eyes trailed down to Ali’s once lickable, pink pussy..

The sicko had fastened a palm sized mirror within the folds so that Ali’s vagina was in a sense ‘plugged’. The reflective part was facing out, amid bloody gashes where he had formed it to fit, so that anyone studying the creativity of his work would look into Ali’s crotch and see themselves staring out.

Sara saw her own eyes in the mirror and began to hyperventilate.

It was several hours later when the trap door above was opened and the last rays of the days light shone down on the horrific scene below. The man above, surveyed the scene, grunting and nodding in approval to another individual standing behind him. In her shock, Sara had asphyxiated herself by swallowing her own tongue while hyperventilating.

She had collapsed dead, face down in Ali’s lifeless crotch.

The man kicked some of the loose earth down onto the scene below. He then turned from the hole and walked away, and the other stepped forward slowly to have a look.

The second man shook his head sadly and in a voice barely more than a whisper, “Oh Ali, you brought us so much shame. This was the only way... and Ms Sara..how COULD you? You were her algebra teacher! You killed her, you bitch! You had to tempt her with your selfish desires! You had to drag her down with you..but you will know Hell. By God, you will know Hell.”<br>
Dale replaced the trapdoor carefully, covering it with loose dirt. He picked up the bloody baseball bat lying nearby and turned to follow his father home.

[RedneckDiva]

Holy fuck those two stories are CREEPY!! Sid, Wench...you girls scare me. But in a good way!

I'm outranked....oh so outranked....

[RedneckDiva]

RD1

Hannah was angry.

There was no other way to put it. She was just angry. Well “just” angry was an understatement, she also possessed many other emotions, but angry was topping the list right now. And it wasn’t just plain ol’, run of the mill, ordinary angry. She was ANGRY.

After entering the meeting with an enormous feeling of consternation, things only went downhill from there. They were open to reinstating her position but with much disdain and to top it off they were bent on creating a rather hostile work environment. She knew, probably just as well as they did, that this was wrong and that they also probably knew she was on her way to find an attorney.

She had tried to edify her superiors regarding her complete lack of understanding regarding the termination of her employment and had even tried to remain professional throughout the entire “meeting” (which wasn’t much of a meeting - it was more of a hateful attack followed by a list of new rules made just for her that even the most submissive person would not tolerate). It wasn’t that she had failed to enlighten them, it was that they simply weren’t listening. They had their minds made up before she walked into the conference room.

The charges her immediate supervisor brought to the meeting were preposterous. They were simply just so not true. They could’ve told her that the Loch Ness monster was hiding under the conference table and she’d have been less shocked. She sat alone at the far end of the table, which was purely a power move on her boss’ part, and listened with her hands clenched to the point of her fingers tingling, a dopey grin on her face, showing nothing but amicable understanding and acceptance. Inside, though...inside her was a rolling, boiling, offensive hatred growing and she rather liked it.

She had never been one to actually hate someone, but her loathing for her (now former) boss was consuming her. It was so unlike her to be anything but happy, cheerful and always ready to please and do her job. She was known all through the company as the one who would keep you in stitches with a quick joke, funny story or even a re-telling of a story on herself. But this...this thing inside her was slowly working it’s way to the surface of her being and she was letting it.

It was arduous relating the story again and again to her husband, her in-laws, her sister and even the neighbor across the yard, but she did it, and put an oh-so-polite spin on the entire thing. What she wanted to do was sprout horns and spew split-pea soup from her mouth while she laughed maniacally and ripped the still-beating heart from the woman who smiled smugly while she announced Hannah’s termination. But she instead just nicely told people about her plan to stay at home with her kids for awhile and enjoy her “time off”.

Later that evening, after the kids were in bed and her husband was absorbed in something on SpikeTV, the phone rang. Her friend Melinda wanted to know if she could meet her for a drink. She said she knew Hannah had had a royally bad day and wanted to help her blow off some steam. She agreed to meet her and told her husband of her intentions as she slipped her shoes on. He understood completely, knowing she needed some time with her girlfriend, to vent, rant and who knew what else women did when they were together. She kissed him on the cheek, squeezed his shoulder and said, “You’re my hero, you know that, right?” He smiled and swatted her hind end as she turned to walk out.

When she got to the lounge they always met at, she saw Melinda’s car, but upon entering saw her nowhere in sight. The bar was very small, only about 8 tables in the whole place, so she knew she wasn’t just not seeing her in the crowd. She waited a few minutes, thinking Mel had gone to the ladies’ room or something. Melinda didn’t emerge. In fact when she checked the restroom the door was open and a nearby patron informed her it had been unoccupied the entire time she’d been standing there. She asked the bartender if he’d seen her, seeing as how they were somewhat “regulars” and he’d know if she’d been there. But no, he hadn’t seen her since night before last when she and Hannah had laughed hysterically at drunken karaoke singers. Perplexed she went back outside. She stopped at Melinda’s car and saw a note under the windshield wiper.

“Hannah - drive out to Daddy’s farm. There’s a surprise for you there.”

She was even more puzzled at the strange request. For one thing, no one actually lived at Melinda’s dad’s farm anymore. They had cattle out there, but the house was inhabited. For another thing, Mel knew that Hannah didn’t like tall grass, dark nights, lots of bugs and dirt. The farm was full of all of those things and she couldn’t for the life of her figure out what on earth was waiting for her there. She smiled, tucked the note in her pocket and thought, Silly sweet, Mel...always trying to cheer me up in the most unorthodox of ways.

She drove the dirt roads leading to the farm, thinking about the events of the past week: the pleas from her husband to just quit her job, the actual termination of the job, the reinstatement, the emotional roller coaster and finally her resignation after agreeing to leave them alone if they’d just pay her for her unused vacation time. It was enough to drive a person insane.

She pulled her van into the overgrown driveway leading to the old farmhouse. There were no signs anyone had driven down it recently and she felt a gnawing in her gut that something was amiss. She couldn’t put a finger on it, but something just wasn’t right. There were no signs of anyone at the house so she drove past it and continued through the pasture toward the barn. The large double door was open on one side and she figured Melinda was inside there. How she got there she wasn’t sure, there should’ve been bent grass in the drive...there were no lights anywhere... Hannah was officially creeped out.

She reached under her seat in a kind of daze, never taking her eyes off of the barn. She didn’t want to go in there but something was pulling her toward the dilapidated old building. She got out and stepped into a semi-fresh cow pile and cursed under her breath. The curse put forth a momentary wisp of vapor into the air and as she stepped out of the gooey pile of crap she grabbed her sweater. “Fabulous. Just. Fucking. FABulous. This day just keeps getting better.” She stomped her foot quietly as she could, but really wanted the cow shit off of her loafer. She also didn’t want to alert anyone to her presence, just in case they were going to try and scare her. She was scared enough without someone jumping out of the tall grass and making her piss herself. She finally felt like most of it was off and she began walking up the slight incline toward the entrance to the barn. She kept her flashlight off, but held it tight in case she needed to use it as a weapon. She was sure going to be embarrassed if Mel tried to scare her and she cold-cocked her best friend with her heavy MagLight.

(continued)

[RedneckDiva]

She stepped into the dusty darkness of the barn and pushed the button to turn on her light, shining it only at the floor, noting the dirt on the rotting wood. She watched mesmerized as some old hay floated around the space in front of her feet, seemingly hovering above the floor on a breeze blowing in from outside. She shuddered when she heard a scurry of little feet which she assumed were mice. Or at least hoped it to be mice. Nice tiny harmless mice. She hated mice, but they were better than ghosts, goblins, lions and tigers or bears. She grinned at her silly thought momentarily.

The grin faded as she heard a scuffle of feet on the wooden floor from the hayloft above. It sounded like more than one person and she immediately wanted to run. But something held her rooted to the spot. Did she dare shine the light into the darkness above her? A few more shuffling footsteps and she stifled a scream with the back of her hand. She shined the light up to the loft and it took her scanning the length of the barn to finally catch a glimpse of what was causing the noises.

Her former boss was standing with her toes over the edge of the loft, ankles tied together, knees strapped together with duct tape and her arms obviously bound behind her back. “Oh have mercy!” she said in nearly a whisper. “Natalie? What the fuck are you doing?” It was a stupid question, she knew. It was obvious the woman was about to take a jump and it didn’t look a bungee cord hanging limply around her neck.

“Hannah...” she whimpered, her head hung, hair falling around her face. “I owe you an apology.”

“Oh shit, Natalie...that job really isn’t worth suicide! I don’t need an apology. Really. Just. Come. Down. Please?” She was lingering right on the edge of panic and hoped her voice sounded steadier than she felt it sounded coming from her all-too-dry mouth. Natalie shook her head and continued, “No, really I need to say this. Hannah, I was threatened by you. It wasn’t anything against your ability to do your job, you were a wonderful employee and I fired you because I felt like I needed to be the one shining star in the department. It was selfish. It was mean. It was unfair. And I need you to forgive me.”

Hannah stared dumbfounded into the rafters of the old barn and tried to force her whirling mind to formulate a plan. She opened her mouth to speak and nothing came out. She took a step forward, thinking that if she could find the ladder into the loft she could talk some sense into Natalie face-to-face. The minute she took a step, Natalie’s head bobbed up and her eyes widened frantically. “NO! Don’t move any closer!” she screamed. “Just stay where you are. Listen. On my desk is a letter of recommendation for you to use wherever you need, if you choose to find another job in the future. There is also a letter from Mr. Lowe as well.” Mr. Lowe was Natalie’s superior in the food chain of the workplace. Hannah didn’t understand why he had written a letter, too, but the puzzling thought was pushed back when she saw Natalie inch closer to the edge. “Hannah, again, I am so very sorry for all I’ve done. They’re telling me I have to go now. Please forgive me.”

Hannah shrieked as she watched the woman lunge forward and snap to a stop when the rope around her neck caught. The “Ungh” noise Natalie made when she stopped was sickening. Hannah retched and felt her world go grey around the edges. The flashlight was suddenly too heavy to hold and she let it fall from her grasp. She saw the forms of what looked like dozens of people walking from the shadows around her. A light was shone overhead again, but instead of shining on Natalie’s limp form, it highlighted the shape of a man dangling a few feet from where Natalie now slowly swung.