“Just twenty-one years old when he came in here wanting to celebrate his great heritage. Where is he now? His mother and father don’t know. Do ye know what a parent goes through when a child goes missing? Is he dead? Where is he? Sheer hell, Bubba. He will never get married. He will never know the deep love of a woman. Ye got it, he didn’t. He will never know the joy of having children. His potential never reached – stopped short by ye lot of gobshite.”
Charms pointed at the dead patrons that littered the tavern.
“Don’t kill me. I beg you.”
“He begged ye.”
Charms jabbed his thumb at the hovering corpse.
“He pleaded with ye – people – to stop, but ye kept on with him until ye slit his throat. Now, it’s my turn.’
Lime lightning crackled from Charms’ tiny frame. He shook and grew, expanding wider, taller, more muscular until he stood six foot seven inches high with a sixty-two inch chest. He towered over the murderous Mallory. Charms picked him up by his head. Mallory’s neck cracked like a chiropractic adjustment.
“Stop,” Mallory said.
“Beg me. Beg me.”
Mallory begged, pleaded and implored the giant leprechaun to stop. He did not. Charms slapped him and left a large handprint on Mallory’s cheek.
“Please don’t hurt me.”
“Now, ye get what ye gave.”
Charms reached back behind the bar and took the longhorns off the wall. The hooks and screws holding it up tore out of the wall and dropped to shelf below.
“Dear Lord, no.”
Mallory kicked Charms and struck him in the stomach and groin. No effect. He extended his hand to get his knife, but Charms knocked it away. It landed nearby.
Charms smashed him into the wood floor. Shock went through the man. Charms bent down and put the longhorns down. He took Mallory’s black work pants and underwear and split them apart.
“Please,” Mallory said.
Charms gathered the longhorns and held his victim down with his ass up. Charms rammed the longhorn up Mallory’s rectum. Again and again, in and out, over and over. With one last penetration, Charms pointed the sharp horn and rift it out between his cheeks, rending his ass. Charms left a bloody, long and large laceration behind. Mallory screamed like no one had screamed before. Charms lifted him up and analyzed the pain on his face.
“What an asshole,” he said.
He dropped him and he fell into a crumple on the floor. Charms dwindled down to his rightful size and bent down beside the man in agony. He stared at him but didn’t see him take the knife into his hand.
“But ye didn’t leave it at –“
Mallory stabbed Charms in the neck, repeatedly. It severed Charm’s jugular vein and carotid artery. Bright green blood spewed forth. Charms fell over and vibrated violently. His body convulsed and gushed blood. Mallory laughed.
“I got you, you fucking fuck. You shithead Mick. Come into my bar and kill my customers, huh? Bubba? Well, now, you’re the dead one.”
“I’m not dead. Humans cannot kill us lucky leprechauns.”
Charms wrenched the knife from his neck, and the wounds closed up except for one small hole where his blood returned and went inside his body. When all the blood had gone back into his veins and arteries, the small hole healed without leaving a scar.
Charms held up the knife with his magical energy so it levitated between them.
“But ye didn’t leave it at the longhorns. Ye had to kill him. Giving him something he couldn’t come back from. Then ye and your customers cleaned up the crime scene and, in the dead of night, ye took the boy’s body and buried it in Burns Field, ten miles away. No one came looking for him here. They only knew he left another bar earlier in the evening and disappeared. Just a missing drunk. Not unusual for Texas. Or anywhere else, for that matter. He could be anywhere. No evidence of foul play. So the search died along with him. No one knew what ye murderous lot did. Except for us. And the whole lot of us want payback.”
“Fuck you.”
Mallory spat at him but it missed the little vengeful leprechaun.
“I will give ye something ye didn’t give him: a last request.”
“Eat shit and die,” Mallory said.
Charms shrugged and jiggled his fingers. Mallory’s head hit the hardwood, and his mouth opened wide. Charms took down his green pants and emerald underwear. He positioned his arse over Mallory’s forced open pie hole. He shite a long, cucumber-like turd into the gapping gate of a mouth. It slid over the man’s tongue and down his throat. He grimaced and tried to spit out the foul filth but that caused it to linger on his tongue so he could keep tasting the excrement.
When Charms finished, he wiped his arse on Mallory’s chest. He pulled his pants up and turned around.
“Now ‘the die’ part.”
With a fiddle of his fingers, he sent the knife to Mallory’s throat and sliced it. Blood sprayed forth. Mallory held the wound in his neck and tried to stop the bleeding. But he bled out anyway. He lost consciousness from the lack of blood in his brain. Soon, he lay dead. The knife clattered on the floor.
Charms stood up.
“I need a pint,” he said.
He sprung onto and behind the bar. He took a glass and poured himself a draft beer. He held up the brew and studied its brown colour. With a touch of his fantastical finger, the ale turned green, rich and full.
He climbed onto the counter with his drink and sat down. He took a sip.
“Aah, that be good ale. A little weak, though.”
He reviewed his handiwork.
“I didn’t like them feckers anyway. Sure, tis great craic, it was.”
The door to the Longhorn Bar opened without a sound, and a middle-aged man entered. He gaped at the scene before him.
“What the hell?” he said.
“Yes, hell, for this unlucky lot,” Charms said.
The man ran out of the place.
“Happy Saint Paddy’s Day, mate.”
Charms finished his cold one and dropped off the bar. He walked to the door, avoiding getting anyone on his shoes. He turned around, took a gander, and exited the establishment.
On a clear, cool night, a lightning bolt took away Unlucky Charms and left an unholy mess.
Thank You!
Thank you for buying and reading this Kindle book and for trusting me to entertain you. I hope you’ll consider writing a blurb about “Unlucky Charms” on Amazon in the book listing’s review section. It would be a huge honor if you did! And very much appreciated!
Best wishes always,
Murray
Other Kindle Books by Murray Peters
“Bartleby the Invincible”
“The Murderer on Langston Road”
“The Guarantee”
All Available on Amazon
About the Author
Murray Peters wrote his first story in grade three at the age of nine for a creative writing assignment. He modeled (which means “stole”) his story after the Disney movie The Incredible Journey.
Time past, and Murray didn’t write again until he reached fifteen. Inspired by Hardy Boys Mysteries, Stephen King, and Marvel Comics, he began getting ideas of his own.
An anti-suicide short story, “Mistaken Identity,” was published with the help and collaboration of his grade nine English teacher. A few more published stories - co-authored with his teacher – later, Murray put down the pen. Writing was turning into work and no longer fun. The collaboration ended.
More time past, and he would occasionally dabble on his mother’s typewriter - which he still has – but nothing too serious. Then came high school graduation, a DJ career, girlfriend, and two wonderful kids. And still he just dabbled, admitting sometimes – many times – he wrote shit.
Murray became a single parent in spring, 1991. After two failed attempts at college, he became an English Major and earned an Associates of Arts Diploma in 1995.
Meanwhile, he wrote some short stories and improved his
craft until finally his story “The Murderer On Langston Road” was published in The Storyteller magazine. The story is now an e-book.
With his children grown and on their own, Murray began to focus on his writing and wrote and published 365 Fascinating Facts You Didn’t Know About Your Cat by Peter Scottsdale. He uses the pen name “Peter Scottsdale” for all his cat books and e-books.
Murray Peters loves writing but doesn’t have as much time as he would like to write due to work to pay the bills. However, he is putting pen to paper and will continue to publish. More than anything, he wants readers to enjoy his work. Happy reading!
Copyright © 2016 Murray Peters
All Rights Reserved
Unlucky Charms: A Horror Fantasy Page 3