Posts tagged ‘horror’
PLUMBING PROBLEMS: PART VI
PLUMBING PROBLES: PART VI
Jack continued, “I had spread word around the community that people should stay away from the property; there is something wrong about that place. Whenever I saw a car drive up, which wasn’t often because the place was so remote, I warned, “This place is no good. It’s strange.”
I asked him, “How can you say that?” The house is a wonderful place to live.”
Jack replied, “I know it’s a great property, but there is something wrong. I pressed him to go on. “One day, while walking through the field you now own, I found something strange near the pond,” he stated. “The first thing I noticed was the smell, a God-awful smell that made me gag; then I saw it. It was lying on the ground, about eight feet long. Been dead for some time I would say. Had a head shaped like a pipe.”
I looked at him, unable to picture a head shaped like a pipe.
He continued, “Had fins too, so I think it was some kind of fish. Damndest thing I ever saw. The fins at the bottom of its body were huge. I thought – what the hell is that doing here and what the hell is it. I buried the damn thing to get rid of it and the stench. There was also one night I couldn’t sleep, decided to take me a walk. I was at the edge of my property and looked over at your pond and saw the damndest thing. There were things in the pond glowing and swimming around. I said to myself, “That’s it! This place is no good. Then when I heard the owner had gone missing, I just tried to keep people away. Did a good job too, until you came along. Be careful in that house, something just ain’t right.” With that he walked to his tractor and continued his work.
I thought about Jack’s description of the strange occurrences on my property. A head shaped like a pipe, that was the part that made me think that Jack had a libation or two before he made his discovery, or maybe forgot to take some medication.
PLUMBING PROBLEMS: PART V
PLUMBING PROBLEMS: PART V
The house had been on the market a long time, with the downturn of the economy not helping, but the realtor could not understand why there was so little interest in the property. So, when Laura and I came along, the family of Marcus Worthy was happy to sell, and I sometimes wonder if I could have gotten the price a little lower.
We sold our old house and the three of us moved into our new farmhouse along with our cat Molly. It wasn’t long before I discovered the first problem with our house, and it turned out to be the only real problem I could find. The sinks, especially the one in the master bedroom, would clog up periodically. It was weird though, because sometimes I didn’t treat the sink and it would unclog by itself. Other than the plumbing, the house was perfect.
Situated on the southeastern edge of the property, our back and western windows look out on our land. Not far from the eastern edge of our property stood a split rail fence and it is over this fence while out walking, that I met my neighbor Jack Small. Jack was in his late seventies and sat perched on an ancient tractor; he gave me a wave and shut her down, walked my way with hands in the pockets of his bib overalls, his work boots kicked at the newly turned earth.
“So, you’re my new neighbor,” he shouted as I noticed a hearing aide in each ear.
I introduced myself and told him about my family. He then told me about his. Jack was a widower and had grown children in New Jersey and Virginia. They visited and brought their children, but for the most part he was on his own.
“Sorry you moved in here,” he continued. This comment startled me. He saw my expression and hurriedly said, “Let me explain. I guess I didn’t hear you coming up the road when you came to look at the house.”
I focused on his hearing aids.
PLUMBING PROBLEMS: PART IV
PLUMBING PROBLEMS: PART IV
At closing, my wife and I learned a little more about the former owner from his sister Joan. “My brother,” she explained, “was Marcus Worthy, a scientist interested in both marine biology and genetics.” She went on to tell us that Marcus was part of a group involved in a start-up company, which discovered a breakthrough drug for the treatment of cancer. Joan said that her brother made a fortune with his investments in the company while working in their research department, but the company bureaucracy began to get in the way of his research methods, and he quit. He liked to dabble, do a few experiments that interested him and then move on to something new, answering his own questions and not the company’s.
Joan said, “His studies were in natural occurring substances existing in marine life. He studied the venom of mollusks and sea snakes, was intrigued by the fact sharks were immune to infection. His mind was full of questions he wanted to answer but the company had no interest in such work and so, in frustration, he resigned. Worthy found this house in rural Pennsylvania, sunk a great deal of money into renovations, and there he would study and live his life on his own terms. He never married and his only contact with the rest of the world was through me, his sister. By his own choice, he slipped away from society.”
Then Joan recalled, “One day I realized that I had not heard from my brother for an unusually long period of time. I tried calling for days but got no response, so I decided to pay him a visit. I had never visited before and had some difficulty locating the house. After parking on the circular drive, I went up the few steps to the screened porch and rang the doorbell. There was no answer. I tried the door and was surprised to find the door open. I entered the darkened house and proceeded to search every room but found no sign of my brother. I did find spoiled food in the refrigerator, moldy dishes in the sink and an ungodly mess in the bathroom, but no indication of what had happened to Marcus. It was as if my brother had just decided to leave one day, but then outside I found his car. I hadn’t a clue as to what happened to him. I thought that perhaps he took a walk and fell victim to an accident. I checked with the local police and hospitals, but they had no knowledge of his whereabouts. I filed a missing person’s report with the police, and in a confused state, left for home. No one ever saw my brother again.”
PLUMBING PROBLEMS: PART III
PLUMBING PROBLEMS: PART III
I’m Joe Crestman, a thirty-eight-year-old research scientist working in the pharmaceutical industry. I’ve always loved to tinker, and with a scientist friend in another company, came up with a new technology for isolating mitochondrial DNA. We managed to patent the idea and were soon selling the technology to other companies, which resulted in a nice side income. I also managed to talk my boss into letting me work out of my home two days a week, crunching data and preparing papers. With the increased income and time away from the office, Laura and I decided to buy a house in the country. On a beautiful spring afternoon, driving down a narrow two-lane road, we saw the For Sale sign long before we saw the house. Just the seclusion had me sold. When we finally did see the house, we were both impressed. A long circular gravel drive led to a red two-story farmhouse set amongst tall oak trees. The house sat on a twenty-acre parcel of land with a barn and pond behind the house. The pond was more like a lake with a boat dock and small beach. We drove up to the house, looked inside and around the property, and immediately knew it was a house we could not afford. “Sorry honey”, I told Laura, “I think this house is way out of our league.” Laura’s a part-time real estate agent and knew from experience that I was probably right.
“Probably costs a ton,” she answered, “but I’m going to check it out anyway.” She copied down the realtor’s number, and we set out looking for more For Sale signs.
I forgot about the house, or at least tried to, because it was exactly what I wanted in a house and land. We had the extra income coming in but not enough to afford that house. My wife, however, went ahead and called the realtor. What she discovered shocked us. The house cost much less than we had anticipated. In fact, the house had been on the market quite a while and the price had been reduced several times. The house was up for sale since the owner disappeared; that’s all the realtor, new in the office, could tell us. The owner’s family wanted to sell the property as soon as possible and get on with their lives. Laura and I had found our dream house.
PLUMBING PROBLEMS: PART II
PLUMBING PROBLEMS: PART II
My eight-year-old daughter Robin was crying uncontrollably; her cat Molly was missing. My wife Laura and I searched the entire house with no luck.
Trying to comfort Robin, I suggested, “She’ll turn up, she always has before,” but my efforts were useless. In frustration, Robin ran out of the house crying out for Molly while Laura and I continued to search. Later Robin returned covered in mud, dejected, and ran up to her room and slammed the door.
While Robin was crying in her room, I went upstairs to the master bathroom to clean up and could not believe the sight that awaited me. The place was a mess. There was a thick yellow slime all over the sink, flowing onto the floor, and the smell was horrible. Neither Laura nor Robin knew anything about the condition of the bathroom. Normally that would have set me off, but considering Robin’s current fragile condition, I thought it better to let the matter drop.
PLUMBING PROBLEMS: PART I
Published by Hadrosaur Press in Hadrosaur Tales Volume 21 in 2004. At one time Writers Digest considered Hadrosaur Press one of the 100 best websites for writers. I had a great deal of fun writing this story using my science background.
The story will appear in multiple posts. Hope you stick with it.
PLUMBING PROBLEMS: PART I
Marcus Worthy purchased the farmhouse and 20 acres of property in rural Pennsylvania two years ago. He immediately started the renovations required for the barn, and now the renovations for the house and barn were completed long ago. Marcus had a few decorating chores to complete, and his house would be to his liking. Grabbing two paintings, a hammer, and some picture hooks, he headed for the master bathroom. As he was hanging the pictures on the wall opposite the sink, he suddenly felt a constriction around his chest and a stinging sensation. He withered to the floor and lay motionless, paralyzed while he was slowly engulfed.
PLUMBING PROBLEMS: AN INTRODUCTION TO A SHORT STORY
Soon I will be beginning posting my short story, Plumbing Problems, published in 2004 by Hadrosaur Press. It is a rather ‘long short story and will appear in seventeen posts.
I hope you find this story entertaining. I’m a retired scientist and had fun thinking about the plot and discussing the science. There are both scientific facts and scientific fantasy in the story. I’ll let you figure out which is which.
Hope you stick with it.
STORIES RECENTLY ACCEPTED FOR PUBLICATION
THE UNIVERSE IN BALANCE accepted by the Corner Bar Magazine and should appear soon.
BEETLE MANIA accepted by Creepy Podcast. I’ll let you know when it will be broadcast.
REVENGE AND REDEMPTION accepted by YELLOW MAMA and will appear June 15 in issue 104.
I will keep you updated as these stories progress to publication.
UNWELCOMED GUESTS: A GHOST STORY
On one side of my property, some eight to ten feet deep, is a gully. I was told some time ago that this gully belonged to a railroad. I have seen an arial photo, taken perhaps in the 50’s, showing tracks at the bottom of the gully. I’ve also been told that they were either train or trolley tracks. I began thinking, What if there was ever an accident down there?
Unwelcomed Guests was accepted for publication by Necrology Shorts in February 2010.
UNWELCOMED GUESTS
Will Trizma was a writer of ghost stories and mined the local countryside for legends and their settings. The area abounded in both. His wife, Joan, acted as his editor and sounding board for his ideas. At times, the only comment she would make is, “You’re sick.”
Not only did he write ghost stories, but he also dreamt of them. One night he conjured a most vivid story; a story from the future. But unlike most of his dreams, he could not remember this tale. The only recollection he had was that it was horrifying.
* * *
It was the evening of August 15, 1949. The time was slightly before ten as a train made its way toward West Chester. There were fifteen souls aboard, counting the crew and passengers on this quiet summer night. The steam locomotive was pushing a caboose and two passenger cars. The weather had been stormy for days and up ahead the foundation of the bridge spanning Ship Road had been undermined by runoff. Jim Purvis, making his last run in a fully loaded fuel truck, slowly crossed the bridge. As he reached the span’s center, it collapsed leaving the truck astraddle the tracks. Jim could not believe he was still alive considering the load he was carrying. Although injured, he managed to climb out of the ravine and go seek help.
As the train slowly made its way into a depressed section of track, the conductor, Ben Elliot, sat on the caboose’s platform and began filling his pipe thinking about sharing a late dinner with his wife. He looked down to light the pipe, and once achieving a satisfactory burn, he puffed contently, and then looked up. The sight before him made his scream, “Holy sh…! He never finished the expletive.
The caboose rammed the truck, followed by the cars. The locomotive cut through the wreck until it reached the truck exploding the gas tank and turning the wreck into a funeral pyre.
* * *
Writing is a lonely profession, and years ago Will sought out a local writer’s group for support and editorial advice. During a Christmas dinner attended by all the writers, Will and Joan suggested a summer party and volunteered to hold it at their house. As the day of the party approached, one spouse or two became sick and others were called away unexpectedly on business.
Will and his wife greeted their guests, their thirteen guests.
Their dog, Millie, a lab mix was her usual excited self with the arrival of every new visitor. Once everyone was there, she settled down and dozed in the sun.
The conversation was lively with all the creative minds present, and as dusk approached, Will was called upon to tell a ghost story. “Not dark enough yet,” he answered.
Dessert was served, and when there was no longer a hint of sunlight, and with the patio bathed in twilight, Will deemed the time right for his tale and went into the house. He returned with candles, one for each table, after extinguished all the inside lights. “Now we have the right atmosphere,” he said. Will began his story and even Millie appeared interested, her eyes reflecting the candlelight.
The weather had been rainy the last few days, and at ten as he began to read, Will noticed a mist begin coming out of the gull bordering one side of his property. A few guests had asked him earlier about the gully and he answered that it had once harbored a railroad track.
The mist became denser and soon overtook the yard along with the guests. One by one they all fell asleep, including Millie. As the wall of fog enveloped all present, fifteen human shapes began to form. The specters slowly made their way to the dozing, and one by one, entered their bodies.
The next morning, they awoke from their deep sleep and knowingly smiled at one another. Ben Elliot looked around, and Will’s eyes filled with tears. “We’ve waited sixty years for this moment.”
Millie awoke and growled. She knew there was something terribly wrong with her master.
THE END
THE GIG OF A LIFETIME, PART VIII; A SHORT STORY
It was late Friday night, sometimes early Saturday morning, and Mac was closing up his club he would pause and listen. Lately, he always made sure he was alone when he locked. For those nights were special. Just before he turned the key in the door he would stand there, with the door slightly ajar, and listen. From afar, he could hear the sweet sound of Sweats playing his sax. But it wasn’t just Sweats playing. There was also a tenor sax, drums and more. The music was the sweetest Mac had ever heard. Mac lived for closing on those nights.
Hope you enjoyed the story. There will be more posts coming. Short stories, poem, both published and nonpublished along with some thoughts and observations. Hope you stay tuned.
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