Thriller: Horror: Conceived (Mystery Suspense Thrillers) (Haunted Paranormal Short Story)

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Thriller: Horror: Conceived (Mystery Suspense Thrillers) (Haunted Paranormal Short Story) Page 13

by Stephen Kingston


  George stepped back from his inspection of the house as he saw an old man approaching. The man was limping and leaning heavily on a cane. He grimaced with every step as he approached the house. Taking his time to navigate the front gate the man made his way to the back door and stooped down to gather the key from under the gnome. George could see the whole episode was causing the man pain and winced himself as the man stood up to enter the house.

  George could see into the kitchen the old man had stepped into, he had sat himself down at the table. Two children came running into the kitchen and jumped on his lap. It was then the woman emerged. Dressed in jeans and a t shirt, George was puzzled as to how this woman could be ever expecting to make a living as a prostitute with kids running around and making so little effort on her appearance. George moved closer to the house and found himself walking up the path towards the back door. He stopped short as he heard a shout.

  “No I will not do it!” The woman shouted.

  “But you must dear. I have given you all the money I have. Please!“ The man begged. “Just do this one thing for me, I beg you!”

  George moved closer to the kitchen window to hear better the conversation. Legion was right of course. This evil cow was milking the old man for everything and making the poor old sod beg for the privilege. George would be happy indeed to take this greedy whore out of the gene pool. He could feel his anger swelling as he moved closer to listen.

  “Dad. I’ve been reading up." The woman said.

  “Dad?” Thought George. “Well there’s a whole new perversion already.”

  "Dad, I think I’ve found a place in California. They can fix you. There’s no need for all this going to Switzerland to die nonsense. They can make you well again. I know they can.” The woman said.

  “We’ve talked about this over and over Janise. There is no cure. I can’t take any more. You’ve been putting the money into that account right? Just let me go in peace princess. I can take no more.” The old man said.

  “If you love me. If you love your grandchildren you will trust me Dad. Let me call them and talk to them. Just give me a little more time. We want you around for a lot longer. If they can fix this, you can get back to your old self Dad. Please let me try.” The woman was begging.

  George stepped back from the window and worked his way back to the street.

  He walked slowly home stopping every now and then to go back. This was the mission. This was the big one. How could Legion have been so wrong? Eventually he arrived back at the house and slumped into the chair. He felt totally drained and numb.

  “Back so soon George? She’s still alive. You still have time, get back there.” Legion said.

  “No” said George. “Whatever your incredible sources might have told you, she is guilty of nothing more than loving her father. Trying to keep him alive. She never took his money. She was saving it for a euthanasia plan she wanted no part of. You are wrong Legion.”

  “Wrong? I am never wrong George. Get your fat lumbering arse back over there and kill the damn whore! Do it now!” Snarled Legion.

  “No. You are wrong. Why would you have me kill an innocent, sweet young girl trying to help her father? Why?” George snapped back.

  “You are a killer George. It is what you are. A monster. A killer. A taker of lives. You will do this and you will do this now or the world will know what a nasty piece of detritus they have living amongst them. 'The Hammer Killer' they will call you. We can do that George. We can destroy what pathetic life you have left.” Legion raged, his face bulging though the TV screen.

  George thought he should be frightened. Even maybe respectful. Whatever was in this TV set was certainly not open to negotiation and was pure evil. But he wasn’t frightened, in fact he began to gently laugh.

  “Hammer killer? My hammer has killed nobody. Sure I was there and sure I may have been involved in the events that killed those people. But I never laid a finger on one of them, certainly not a hammer. It was all coincidental. I am no more a killer than you are a news reader.”

  Legion was bulging in and out of the TV screen as it took on an almost three-dimensional state of rage. The room glowed fiery red and George sat calmly within it.

  He slowly reached into his overcoat pocket and slid out the hammer. He turned it over and over in his hand feeling a comfort in its firm handle and balanced weight.

  “Now or forever George! Kill her or we will take you and your damn soul to the darkest pits of…..”

  George slammed the hammer deep into the TV screen. The room, once fiery bright was plunged into darkness and quiet. Leaving the hammer where it was buried George picked up the TV and moved it into the small box room. His rent classified it as a bedroom but unless a family of Pygmies had decided to take up residence, no average sized person would ever be using it as a bedroom. Once he’d dumped it on the floor of the room George backed out and closed the door. The quiet was almost overwhelming and he noted that the only noise within the house now was the gentle hum of the refrigerator. It was almost the sound of an invite thought George as he reached inside and pulled himself out a bottle of beer.

  Sitting down on his chair, beer in hand, he could now feel the comforting ache of his old wounds. He had forgotten how it felt to ache. How just moving slightly in the chair could relieve the dull pain down his leg. Now it was all coming back. He ached but he felt content. Half way through the beer he fell into a deep sleep.

  He awoke to the feeling of a wet patch seeping through his trousers. He sat up with a jolt as he realized the beer had half emptied onto his leg as he slept. Looking around the small, untidy living room George smiled. Then winced as he tried to get out of the chair. Sleep had not helped the aches, he thought as he made his way to the bathroom. Today was Tuesday. George decided on a long soak and clean clothes for his weekly trip to the diner. Cheeseburger and a cola seemed the perfect idea for today, and it was Tuesday after all.

  George never gave a second thought to the TV set with the hammer through it in the spare room though he did check to make sure the door was properly shut before he left the house.

  He took his time as he strolled along the long road up to the diner, making sure that he avoided catching a glimpse of the televisions in the window of the electrical shop.

  For the first time in as long as he could remember, the place seemed warm and happy and so did he. The woman behind the counter smiled as she handed him his cheeseburger, fries and cola and for the first time ever, George smiled back.

  He took a long deep first bite of his burger and chewed almost ecstatically as the hot juice of the meat cascaded onto his tongue. The cheese still hot and melting sent a gentle burn to the roof of his mouth. After swallowing he giggled at his childlike enjoyment of the moment then took a large gulp of the soda to ease the burn. Life was incredibly good after all.

  George had just taken a second large bite from the burger when he saw Janise entering the diner with her two children in tow. She looked stunning. George couldn’t take his eyes off her as she moved to the counter to order, her long dark hair cascading down her back. She turned as she waited for her food and caught George looking at her. She smiled. A warm beautiful smile that caught George totally and embarrassingly off guard.

  The bite of burger he had just taken and forgot to swallow decided to make its own way down his throat. It stopped just before his tonsils and lodged there. The bread starting to swell as his throat tried to contract. George gasped. He grabbed at his throat to dislodge the lump of burger. He squeezed and prodded to set it free but between the soggy bread and the sizzling lump of meat they had no intention of giving up the fight, he could feel a slice of onion tickling his tonsils and began to gag. The glare of the lights in the room began to pierce his eyes but shock wouldn’t allow him the luxury of blinking.

  As he began to slide from his chair and crashed to the floor with the table on top of him he saw Janise rushing towards him. He struggled to decide if having her seeing him like this was worse
than choking. At the moment the choking did seem the worst part of the experience. The lights began to dim as he felt hurried hands trying to free the table from on top of him. He was getting weaker and his attempts at dislodging the burger were getting less. Now he could feel hands reaching down to pull him upwards but his legs refused to cooperate. They had turned to jelly as he felt Janise and the woman behind the counter fighting to get him back on a chair.

  George could smell the beautiful fragrance of Janise as she frantically reached her arms around him in an attempt to dislodge the trapped food with a chest compression. He could also smell the oily, onion laden scent of the woman that worked behind the counter. Soon the smells faded along with his vision. The last thing George saw was the TV screen above his head on a bracket overlooking the diner. He could see Legion but couldn’t hear him. He could see his mouth moving but the words no longer reached his ears. He could however see the conveniently placed subtitles running along the bottom of the screen. Before his eyes closed forever he read,

  “Coincidence is it, George?"

  The End

  Still Birth

  Horror

  About the Book

  In the hills of western North Carolina in the late 1970s a secret was born that would spread its terror through the lives of many. For friends Anne, Joan, and Meg that secret would mean a life locked away in a haze, death, and questions that would go unanswered. As the women, all on the verge of giving birth, wonder what the future holds for their children the machinations of others will prove more powerful than even a mother’s love.

  In the present day the secrets of the past can have consequences and Inga Parr is soon going to find that out. As she digs for the truth about who her parents are and how she came to be adopted Inga uncovers long buried secrets and tales of insanity. And the victims of the past aren’t all dead and gone. Inga races to find out the truth about her own past and about the women who have been disappearing from Louisa Falls for years. Can she uncover the truth before it’s too late or will she fall victim herself to a decades old secret?

  Prologue

  Present Day, Louisa Falls, North Carolina

  A cold, howling wind blows across the lonely mountain cemetery and a newly dug grave waits to be filled. Two workers, middle-aged men of nondescript demeanors stood over the grave talking quietly with each other. One, obviously not as mentally capable as the other, looked incredibly sad as he stood over the empty grave, the casket waiting to be put into position and lowered into the ground.

  “I heard she lost her mind after her baby was born dead and she was never the same. She ran off all of her friends and family with her crazy talk and searching for some woman that disappeared at the same time.” The smartest of the pair said.

  “Oh, Momma told me the woman was some lady that disappeared years ago, another one that lost her mind after her baby was born dead.” The dimmer man spoke.

  “Lord have mercy, Ed, you’ll believe anything won’t you? I’ve heard others saying she was just an old drug addict, smacked out of her mind on dope. Anyway, she’s here alone today, and I’ve heard tale that hospital’s been haunted ever since she died in it. Patients keep getting bothered by some women screaming and wailing for her baby. People don’t even want to go there in emergencies now and it’s the only hospital for 30 miles!” The other one said.

  “You ain’t got to be so mean, Henry! Besides, you’re not so smart yourself, are you?” Ed said, his feelings obviously hurt as he took his hat off and bowed his head before they started the rest of their work. “That hospital’s been closed for ages now so how would anyone be haunting the patients? See, I’m not stupid, just slow.”

  “You’re right, Ed, sorry buddy. Let’s get this over with, I’m spooked today and want to get back to the fire in the office. I can’t take much more of this outdoor work in cold weather…” Henry’s words trailed off as they began to lower the coffin into the ground, not even a priest coming out to say a few words over the grave.

  Some distance away a young woman stood behind a tree, watching the proceedings, before walking away as the men lowered the coffin into the grave. She’d find no answers here today.

  Chapter One

  April 1977, Charlotte, North Carolina

  Anne Rasnake looked around the sparsely furnished office and wondered just what she’d managed to get herself into this time. She knew, of course, her body told her exactly what she’d got herself into each morning as she rushed for the bathroom and through the absence of a very necessary part of a woman’s life. Anne held out hope, however, that these signs were somehow wrong and she was only being a silly, naïve girl.

  She’d chosen the doctor’s office for a reason; it was far from Charlotte, where people knew her, and even further from her mountain home. Nobody could tell on her from here. Her nerves tensed as she heard the doctor speaking with the nurse outside. Panic set in that perhaps her secret had been discovered and she jerked out of her seat to run out of the office before the doctor could confront her. Anne knew what the doctor was going to tell her but didn’t want to hear the news. Because the father of the child was a secret she had to keep hidden, even from the doctor.

  Anne turned to leave the room, her hand reaching for the door just as it opened. Her eyes widened as her pulse raced and she stared open-mouthed at the doctor as he walked in the door. Her hand over her heart in a futile attempt to calm the racing organ, Anne looked at the doctor guiltily. He’d found out somehow, she just knew it.

  Doctor Rogers looked at Anne, confused as to why she looked so terrified, and guided her back to the chair in front of his desk. His gentle hand encircled her wrist for a moment and Anne knew he could feel her pulse racing and see her fear. How do you explain that to a man who thought you were happily married and joyful at the news he might bring?

  “Well, Mrs. Rasnake, it would appear your suspicions were correct, you are expecting a little bundle of joy. Your blood tests confirmed that. Now, as this is your first time visiting us we need a little bit of information from you so we can get an idea of your medical background and what we should keep an eye out for during your pregnancy. Mrs. Rasnake? Are you alright, ma’am?” Doctor Rogers had finally noticed her crestfallen look and the shattered nerves that were causing her to tremble as she clutched at her handbag, trying to find her handkerchief.

  “I’m just fine, Doctor Rogers, we’ve just been waiting for so long now.” Anne lied, not able to meet the doctor’s gaze as she spoke the words. She hoped the words placated the doctor’s curiosity but in her mind her world was crumbling around her. The husband she’d named was mythical, she’d never even been to a wedding much less had one herself.

  Oh no, Anne was in a lot of trouble here and she knew it was only going to get worse when she broke the news to Jim Monroe, the baby’s father. The doctor pulled her attention away from her private thoughts and Anne answered his questions politely but without much thought. She didn’t really plan to ever see him again, after all.

  Driving away from the office in her old second-hand Pontiac Anne wondered how to tell Jim. Though she hadn’t actually planned the pregnancy, should have never even have allowed him to get close enough to get her pregnant she secretly hoped this would change his mind and maybe, just maybe, he might leave his wife now, as he’d been promising. Their affair had begun a year ago and Jim was still making excuses about why he wouldn’t leave. His wife was ill, their two boys needed him, and it would be bad for business.

  At twenty-six years old Anne knew she was being naïve but hoped this pregnancy would change things. She’d been such a young, impressionable girl when she’d first gone into that office, fresh out of the business college that she’d scrimped and saved to attend, determined to get out of her mountain home in rural North Carolina, determined to prove her Momma wrong about what the world was like. Jim had been there, handsome, charming Jim and he’d promised her the world the moment she walked into his office. She’d believed every word of it, and believed him no
w to be too kind, too soft-hearted to harm his wife or children but she knew, deep down she knew, Jim really wanted to be with her.

  Anne really hadn’t meant to have an affair, and though she felt guilt for loving another woman’s husband Anne knew that Jim’s wife was horrible to him, even if she was ill. Over long nights in the office Jim had spoken with tears in his voice about the way Sharon, Jim’s wife, withheld affection from him, constantly berating him and telling him he wasn’t good enough. Anne would comfort Jim, praising his looks and his work. Her heart ached at the cruelties Jim described and felt pity for him, knowing herself what it was like to live with someone that only criticized and never gave love in return.

  Anne played out a fantasy in her mind as she drove back to Charlotte, far away from the doctor she’d been to. Anne pictured going into the office to Jim, late but smiling knowingly over her secret knowledge and with pleasure at Jim. He’d take her in his arms and declare his love for her, his sudden recognition of her pregnancy glow making him fall even more in love with her, as she revealed the news she had to give him. They’d run away to some faraway place she’d only ever seen in pictures or movies, maybe even Paris, and live happily ever after. He’d divorce his wife now and devote himself to her, only to her after they were married.

  Anne sighed happily, pushing away the memory of words her mother once spoke to her about Anne’s inadequacies. The words that the woman had spoken before Anne left her in their falling down cabin up in the woods, so far back in the forest that you could barely get a car up the track.

  “They’ll make a fool of your little country self, down there in Charlotte, Anne,” her mother had said.

 

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