Greed and Lust!

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The garage door took an eternity to open.
Bill sat in the car tapping his fingers on the steering wheel impatiently.
“Finally!”
He pulled into the garage and closed the door. He stood beside the beautiful Alfa Romeo and admired it for a few seconds. It was a beautiful machine.
He’d get a cab back to the hotel and pick up the Audi later, after things had died down. He didn’t want to answer anymore questions. He hadn’t done anything wrong, but the fire had started in his room. Sofia had arranged the candles around the bed, if anyone were to blame, it was her.
“You can’t arrest a dead woman.” he said out loud, then he smiled.
Sofia and Jean looked at each other. They weren’t smiling at all.
Bill still wore the hotel robe, its deep pockets bulging with Sofia’s jewelry. He laid the exquisite pieces on table by the bed. Beautiful, she loved rubies and diamonds. They glittered in the early evening sunlight. Selecting a simple ruby pendant on a gold chain, he held it up to the light.
“I’ll sell the rest, but keep this one for my next mistress!” He said out loud. “Something to make her feel special.”
I’ll find another rich vulnerable woman. Someone starved of love, and sex, someone I can play with for a while. Maybe this time I’ll marry her, secure my fortune and never have to work again.
Sophia and Jean heard his thoughts.
Bill placed the necklace safely in Jean’s underwear drawer and chuckled to himself.
“Buried my ex-wife today, and amassed a little money from my mistress! Not a bad days work.”
He turned on the shower and dropped his robe at his feet. He admired himself in the mirror. The radio burst into life.
You’re so vain, I bet you think this song is about you!
Startled, Bill turned around.
“What the hell! Hello, who’s there?”
Silence.
He turned back.
Two shapes stood in the shower.
Holding his breath he rubbed his eyes.
The radio went silent.
Screw the shower, I need to rest!
Bill closed the drapes and crawled under the covers of king size bed, the one he used to share with Jean. The one he’d shared with Sofia when Jean was away. He smiled as he anticipated sharing it with his next conquest.
He wouldn’t be smiling for long!

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Red Hot!

 

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As they approached the hotel Jean’s anger flared. Her aura was red-hot. She felt it and worried that Bill would see her. He glanced in his rear-view mirror, a confused look on his face, as if something were wrong. Tugging at his tie, he loosened it and undid the top button of his shirt.
Perspiration prickled his face.
Jean smiled. He couldn’t see her, but she knew he felt her. The sweet little Catholic girl was going to release a world of pain on this man.
Bill wiped his brow with the sleeve of his jacket and switched on the AC.
With one glance Jean switched it off again.
Bill punched the button again, she left it on for thirty seconds, and then smiled and switched it off.
“Goddamn fucking AC, maybe I should have gotten the BMW after all”
Jean smiled and switched on the heating. Her aura calmed, she was no longer red-hot, but Bill was!
Driving erratically, he ran a red light, almost hitting two pedestrians.
“Shit, shit, SHIT!”
He slowed down a little.
“The last thing I need right now is another death!”
Then he smiled and relaxed a little. Jean hadn’t been rich, but they had a house together with at least $200,000 in equity. Jean’s parents had given them a chunk of money as a wedding present. Then there was the jewelry! He’d make a tidy sum when he sold that. He opened the car windows and breathed deeply. In the back of the car, Jean’s aura was red again. She could hear his thoughts. Closing her eyes she resisted the urge to kill him. She moved effortlessly into the passenger seat and remembered how she’d loved sitting next to him in the car. He’d slip his hand onto her knee and stroke her inner thigh while the drove. She shivered as she remembered…but the moment soon passed!
How long did it take for you to tire of me Bill? Did you ever really love me?
Bill pulled into the hotel parking lot. His head was full of his mistress, and her money. Parking the car, he walked quickly into the hotel lobby and climbed the stairs two at a time. Anticipating the rest of the afternoon, Bill was already aroused. Money and sex did that to him. He opened the door. The drapes were closed and scented candles burned. The room smelled of roses, and expensive perfume. Bill was right about the champagne, but wrong about her skimpy expensive attire.

Sofia was naked!

You’ll be Sorry!

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A small group of mourners left the graveyard. Jean’s parents, her sister and her husband. The look on her parents face was that of grief and raw disbelief. They clung to each other, tears streaming down their tired faces. Lori, her sister was sad and confused. Bill, her husband, wore a mask of guilt.
“I’m so sorry!” he said as they walked away.
No you’re not sorry now, but you will be!
Jean was raised a catholic, suicide was not tolerated, yet her lifeless body lay in a wooden box in the ground. Overdose! Shame to the family! She wasn’t at rest though, she crouched in the shadows watching. Bill looked sorry, but it was for show, for the funeral, for the family. His girlfriend waited for him in a hotel close by. Jean knew the place well, she’d followed him there a week ago.
Watched them through the window, saw them leave the restaurant and get into the elevator. Jean approached the front desk and asked for a spare key, said she couldn’t remember the room, but her husband was waiting for her. Gave her name.
“Ah yes, Mr. Richardson, room 102”
She mounted the stairs and stood listening outside the bedroom door. She heard their sighs, whispers, moans.
Opening the door she stood and watched.
Naked bodies so absorbed in love-making they didn’t notice her.
She fled, Bill was her whole life, she was pregnant with his child. Barely able to see though her tears, she drove home.

A bottle of Riesling and a thirty sleeping pills did the trick. Death came quickly and she was thankful, but it wasn’t over.

Hiding in the bushes by the graveyard Jean’s was no longer asleep. Her troubled spirit angry, and it wanted revenge!

Evil Dead!

evil faceThe silence didn’t last long. A strong wind blew. It was icy cold. A weak, fading glow danced in the darkness. The tinkling bells grew silent. I knew I had to do something, but I didn’t know what!

“Lucky Heather?”

The voice was close to my ear. I turned quickly, expecting to see another restless spirit, but instead I came face-to-face with the old Gypsy I’d seen a couple of days earlier. I touched her wrinkled cheek. It was warm. She was real. She grinned a toothless grin and pushed a sprig of purple heather into my hand. My skin tingled at its touch. I remembered the heather that filled my living room a few days earlier.

Was she trying to help me?

Looking into her eyes, I saw strength, and wisdom. I looked back at the fading glow of the young gypsy girl and my heart began to ache.

“Don’t go!” I pleaded in a voice that didn’t sound like mine.

The smoking man appeared behind her, reaching out his arms, trying to hold her, but she was barely visible.

Laughter bubbled from behind me. It was nasty and malevolent. I turned around almost losing my balance, and looked upon pure evil, in the form of a man. Horns were all he needed to make him look like the devil itself. I knew he was long dead, I could see it in his eyes, but he looked strong. The smirk on his face was terrifying.

“You can’t help them, they’re my playthings.”

I tried to speak, but my mouth wouldn’t open.

His laughter surrounded me.

“Every year they suffer. It’s what they deserve. He took her from me. He took her from the Romany way of life. Stole her. Common thief that he is.” He spat on the ground. The grass died around him and the air turned putrid. “I’m going to take you too. Every year I add a wonton creature like yourself to my collection. Young girls who fall under his spell, all too stupid to resist his pathetic charms. I get them all in the end.”

There was movement behind him. A dozen or more young girls huddled together. Some naked, all unhappy! Snatched from life and made to suffer by this evil, restless spirit. I didn’t want to be one of them.

“Why do you want me? Let me go. What good can I do?” I whispered, trying to sound brave.

“I don’t want you, I didn’t want any of these pathetic creatures,” as he spoke he turned around. They all cowered away from him. Could he still hurt them in death?

“I want her! I’ll give them all to him, in exchange for her. ”

I looked back at the fading light that was the beautiful young gypsy girl. I could barely see her now.

Another voice came from the darkness. I’d forgotten about the old woman.

“She’ll never be yours Luca. She didn’t love you.”

Her voice brought a look of fury to the ugly face. A bird fell to the ground at his feet.

“I didn’t want her love. I wanted her body! Love is nothing. I needed her beside me to bear my children.” His voice boomed like thunder. He smiled an awful smile and licked his lips, “I wanted to play with her a little too.”

“People like you should never be allowed to breed. If you’d given her a child it would have died in her womb.” The old girl cackled. Her voice was strong.

“I’d have torn it from her body before that happened.”

More birds fell to the ground behind him. I could smell fire. Maybe it was the fires of Hell. Somewhere close by a tree fell smoldering to the ground.

The heather I held tightly in my hand became so warm I wanted to drop it.

A voice from deep within my head whispered to me.

Make him angry now. Distract him! Let Mala escape. Let him focus his anger on you and me.

“I’m scared.” I answered. “He’ll kill me!”

A pain ripped through my skull.

“Be quiet you old Hag, I hear you”

 

Viktor – The Evil Dead!

Dead of July (Small)

My novel is almost ready for its last visit to wonderful editor, Leslie Miller. http://lesliemillerwordsmith.com

Sixty pages of reading and ‘fixing’ to go. Much of this story is pulled from fact. I still have the photo album referended in this story. This poem was written by me in 1974, and proudly remains in the front of the album. Yes, I am Sheila and forty years later I still have premonitions and I still see dead people.

 

I was too agitated to sit still. Although I didn’t really want to touch the photo album, I had to. I wanted make it mine again I picked it up and looked at the first page. Tears stung my eyes as I remembered receiving the album as a gift from my mum in June 1974. I’d written the date in the front cover of the album, along with a poem to mark the occasion. It went like this.

 

Memories of happy days,

Should never be allowed to die

And this, my album, I hope displays,

How in my heart they lie,

Golden moments of laughter and fun,

Are captured for all to see,

When I am not quite so young,

Just how I used to be.

 

            I’d been taking photographs from the day I was old enough to hold a camera. It was a hobby. The first two photos were treasured memories of my first David Bowie Concert at Earls Court, London in May 1973. The third photo was of my first vacation in Rimini, Italy. Those were happy carefree days and I wanted them back. I looked around to see Les looking at the photos too.

“Don’t let what happened today spoil your memories. Viktor is a vile unhappy spirit, but we will be rid of him soon. Father Ernie and Major McCarthy will send him to hell where he belongs.” He said and hugged me again.

Evil Dead – 1982 Movie

Scary 1982 Movie

I had to share this with you, and remind you of the horror films we watched back in 1982. When I posted the first snipped from my ‘Walk in the Park’ story a couple of days ago, my niece Adele (who isn’t that much younger than me) reminded me that she watched this with us in Germany on our old ‘Betamax’ video recorder. 

She spent two weeks with us in the Summer of 1982. Shortly after watching this movie, she went up into the attic to hang out the washing, and was terrified something was going to come up through the floorboards and get her.

These old horror movies are pretty lame by todays standards, but they were scary at the time. I wonder if the apartment buildings in Germany still have attics full of washing lines.  I had forgotten about that! Obviously its burned in my niece’s memory, and not for good reasons. Sorry Adele!

Its fun writing stories that are entwined with my past, it brings back all sorts of memories both good and bad.  Keep reading, my German Ghost Story is pretty long and should keep you going for a while. Hope you like it.

Anyone else remember their scariest movies from 1982?