Joe’s retirement “party” is at the corner bar.
Years of experience catching serial killers, gone to budget cuts.
It was either retire or get fired.
Everybody’s here. Even the goddamned beancounters.
“There was one I never caught,” says Joe. “The Lifetime Supply Killer.”
I remember that case. Guy would send his victims a box of poisoned chocolate bars, telling them they won a lifetime supply of chocolate.
“Kinda funny, really,” said Joe.
The Director calls for a toast. We raise our glasses.
Joe stops me. “It’s a lifetime supply of champagne,” he whispers.
“To Joe!” everyone says.
And he drinks.
Tag: horror
Pagan
A stranger among us?
We board our canoes and row out to The Island of The Great Statue.
She is The Goddess Of The Golden Door, and she watches over we survivors of The Last War.
Her book, brand, and crown held high above us all.
“Look upon her, stranger!” we say. “Pray she accepts you!”
Once ashore, we drag him to the altar and sing:
“O, Lady Colossus, lift your lamp, and accept this wretched refuse to your Golden Door!”
Then, the Judge thrusts his knife into the stranger’s heart.
We board the canoes again, and row for home.
Dolly
When people asked Dolly Parton what she wanted people to say about her in 100 years, she’d say: “Darn, she looks good for her age!”
When the zombie outbreak swept across the country, Dolly was one of the many millions roaming the streets moaning “BRAAAAAAINS!”
Well, not exactly moaning. She still had a bit of that sweet friendly twang to her voice. Some say she’d toss in a “Howdy, y’all!” and “How ya doin?”
The plague was contained, she was caught, and after all these years, her still-groaning corpse is in Examination Pod Nine.
And, damn, she looks like shit.
Damned
Single mom with terminal brain cancer.
The experimental medicine keeping her alive is killing her.
Take it, and it keeps the brain tumor in check, but healthy braincells die.
Don’t take it, and the tumor grows and spreads, which will eventually kill her.
She’s scared out of her skull, sent the kids away for the weekend, and called me.
“Find me a third option,” she says.
“Sure,” I say.
Before I left that night, I blew out the pilot lights, and turned off the gas alarm.
Her kids came home early, didn’t want to wake her.
They fell asleep, too.
The Lion And The Lamb
Eve listened to the serpent, ate from Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, and Adam joined her.
When God found out, He cursed the serpent, Eve, and Adam.
As for the rest of the plants and animals, what a raw deal!
After all, it wasn’t the emu or platypus’ fault that the serpent was a prick, right?
Oak trees and mangroves weren’t involved at all. The fig was just an innocent bystander, an unwilling hostage providing cover.
The worst of it was all the bugs and mold swarming The Tree Of Life.
Damn things are impossible to kill now.
The Garden
I grew up in the country, but I live in the city now.
Can’t afford a house, so it’s apartment life for me.
If there’s a excuse for a patio, I grow a pocket garden.
If not, I hang as many windowboxes as I can.
Sometimes, I get roof space and garden up there, or out in a community garden.
But I’d rather not. Some folks don’t like the kind of plants I raise.
The feeling’s mutual.
Yes, the flowers are beautiful. Go ahead. Try to take one.
Oh, did you get stuck?
Here’s the antidote. Better drink it quickly.
Amy
I remember the day the stranger came.
Opened up his guitar case, pulled out a contract, and handed me a pen.
“Sign here,” he said. “I’ll make your name last forever.”
I said no, but so many said yes.
And now this girl, Amy.
The stranger’s men keep close tabs. When you’re worth more dead than alive, the party ends, and your friends find you with a needle sticking out of your arm.
Not me. I had my moment, but I outlived it.
Living legend?
No. A living ghost.
My hands, my head, my everything hurts.
But I’m still going.
Push
She keeps pushing me.
“Leave me alone,” I say. “Quit pushing me.”
So, she lets go of my wheelchair and stands there, arms crossed over her chest.
I hate it when she does that, because I have to twist around, and it hurts my damaged neck.
“No, not that,” I tell her. “I mean quit pushing me as in nagging me. Telling me to do things. When to do things.”
She uncrosses her arms, walks back around, and pushes the chair again.
“Thank you,” I say.
That’s when I notice… we’re going pretty fast…
Towards a really long staircase down.
Ken and Barbie
His name was Ken, short for “Telekenetic.”
Her name was Barbie. It wasn’t short for anything.
Barbie would bring things to Ken, and he’d lift them with his mind.
Barbie laughed.
So did the researchers, watching from behind one-way glass and through cameras all throughout the testing area.
They called it “The Dream House.”
Ironic, since Ken and Barbie didn’t dream. They gave them drugs so they wouldn’t dream.
The body paralyzes muscles during sleep, but it doesn’t disable telekinetic abilities.
Before the drugs, everything would fly around the room, the building would shake.
Now, they just wet their beds.
The Patient Patient
Seth ran into the storeroom, slammed the door shut, and pushed a table against it.
WHAM! A zombie hit the door, rattling Seth.
The lock held. For now.
He pulled out a cigarette, remembered he was inside, oh screw it, the world’s ending, right?
He reached for his lighter… damn it, where… where… no lighter.
More pounding. Loud moaning.
“Want a smoke?” he had asked Dr. Grant. “Not like these guys are going anywhere, right?”
Oh, how he wrong he’d been. All he wanted now was just one smoke.
Grant had his lighter.
Seth moaned. And the zombies moaned louder.