Saturday, October 29, 2011

You Finish the Spooky Story

                                                                                       
This is in the spirit of the season. Just leave your piece of the story in the comment section and let the next person pick up the tale from there and continue it. I only remind you that my blog is read by young people, please keep that in mind as you write. You can add one sentence or a whole paragraph to take the story onto the next place. You can come back later and add a piece again after someone else has posted.

                                                    Stranded on Halloween

    The business trip had gone just as expected and closed off with a fine meal in a nearby restaurant.  Late in the evening as conversation drew to a close the  young man with his laptop case slung over one shoulder emerged from the dinner meeting and decided to go home that night and dropped the lap top on the passenger seat of his old Mercedes and  headed home. He set the  GPS system for "Go Home"  and cruised out of town on the highway he had arrived from a few days earlier.  The GPS spoke in a clipped British accent, exit in  5/10's of a mile. He was driving, his mind on the business conversations of the evening and followed the directive of the GPS unit.  Suddenly the lights of the highway were behind him and his car winding along a desolate roadway. A thin ribbon of water glimmered in moonlight over the guard rail. He had in one exit plunged from metropolitan hurry to rural darkness as the solitary car on the road. His engine spluttered........

14 comments:

  1. .....and then died. He changed from a man going along on auto pilot to the engaged fight or flight mode. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed 911. And the GPS said, " So very sorry sir. You have no service." That clipped British accent was driving him nuts. He hit redial. "Didn't you hear me, you silly twit? I said no service. Now you are under my power."

    The wind began to howl around whirling leaves blew against his windshield. And then it began to snow.

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  2. His only choice was to walk and seek help. He was a bit disconcerted about the tone his GPS was taking, so he chose to leave it behind. He took out his laptop, threw it over his shoulder, locked the car, and started walking. With the darkness and the snow he could barely see where he was going.
    Up ahead a dimly lit porch came into view.

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  3. Chilled to the bone, he climbed the stairs of the porch and shook off the snow. Though the porch light was on, he couldn't see any other lights. He prayed that someone was home. There was no buzzer, only a knocker on the door. The knocker had the face of a sneering gargoyle. He lifted the lower lip and let it fall on the chin. It wasn't very loud and if someone was home, or asleep, they might not have heard it, so he lifted it again to knock louder, when out of the mouth came a voice: "No need to knock again. I heard you the first time." If he was cold before, he was now frozen with fear as he recognized the clipped British accent of his GPS which he had left in the car. The British woman's voice used to be a source of guiding comfort, but now it freaked him out. "Come in, the door is open..."

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  4. And with that the door flew open and slammed itself against the wall. He stood frozen to the spot until an unseen hand grabbed him by the shirt front and pulled him into the room. "I said come in. What part of that didn't you understand?" It was the voice again. Before he knew what hit him, he was pulled into a room off the entryway. A well lit fire lay crackeling in the fireplace and two chairs were positioned so they faced it. He was pushed into the larger chair on the left and holding tightly to his laptop he looked around. There in the other chair was a wizend small old woman....

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  5. The woman barely glanced at him. She had a cat in her lap and was searching for fleas under it's chin. When she found one, she would snap it under her thumb nail and pop it into her mouth. Her toothless gums smacking in pleasure. She looked over at him abruptly. She seemed surprised to see him and, wordlessly offered him the cat.

    A scrawny grey bag of bones and fur, the cat snarled at him as she attempted to dump it on his lap. Then, the cat or something very near the cat,spoke....

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  6. "So glad you stopped by, it gets so lonely out here in the sticks with so few visitors".

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  7. The feline's voice no longer offered any reassurance or guidance.
    "I have been waiting to have you visit. We need to talk."
    "Thank you" The grey feline addressed the elderly woman. "Off you go dear."
    The old woman moved incredibly fast as she locked all the windows and bolted the doors. The young man trembling held his laptop to his chest as if he could change the course of it's destiny.

    "Pppplease ststttayyy!" the young data programmer begged of the old woman.
    At that very moment the Grey feline..............

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  8. Meowed and pounced! He shot up into the air but did not have to worry about the claws because the cat had evaporated into a terrible grinning face above him that said...

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  9. "Recalculating," said the old woman, "You are always recalculating. Why can't you let things be. That's why we brought this nice young man here, to help us out." The grinning face stopped grinning and looked sulky. "Now calm down, and settle by the fire while I cook us something nice to eat." The grinning face morphed back to the cat and the woman went to a cupboard and pulled out what looked like a long tail and began to chop it up into small pieces. Looking over at the man with a kind, if somewhat chilling, smile and asked if the young man liked soup.

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  10. In 2 hours I will open VoiceMail with a performance of this story and let the additions continue. It will be tqaped so you can all hear it as best I remember it on the fly from now until 7. Feel free tocontinue posting and adding tothe story. Carolyn

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  11. "Egg Drop" replied the Data programmer.
    "I desperately need your services Mr. Chin. As a gifted storyteller, computer programer and a spiritual clairvoyant!" the cat made three full turns around her tail and settled in.
    She explained to Mr. Chin that she was centuries old and has lived in 8 forms to stay in this world. She was born in Bideford in the UK. She told her visitor that her name was Emma back then and she has kept that name. She grew up to be a fisherman's wife and one day the both of them were caught in a storm at sea. When the storm stopped and the seas were calm they had landed in the Colonies. Emma and her John became involved in the community of Salem. John became involved in local politics and that is when her problems began.
    "It was a dark night and the flames were so high." Emma's voice began to crack and become tense.
    "The Evil woman through a haze of smoked said something to my John, HE DROPPED DOWN DEAD!" Emma now sobbing and hissing looked right at young Mr. Chin.
    "That Witch turned to me and said............

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  12. "Bring me the book and he will be free."
    The old woman bowed her head.
    "My John - my poor dear John. I tried. All these years...all these years.."
    Mr. Chin squirmed uneasily. The cat jumped down right at his feet. It's yellow eyes gleamed and flattened from the firelight. It spoke softly,
    "She looked for it but never found it."
    Mr. Chin wanted to leave. But the cat held him there staring.
    "I-I just needed to get help. My-my car broke do--"
    Suddenly.....

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  13. From L.F.
    > Mr. Chin spotted a book on the shelf. The Complete works of William
    > Shakespeare. With a strength he didn't know he had, he leapt up and lifted
    > down the hefty tome. He flipped to Macbeth. His finger ran to Act I scene I
    > and he read. "I come Graymalkin." and the cat disappeared. He chanted
    > "Fair is foul and foul is fair. Hover through the fog and filthy air." He
    > head fell forward. When he opened his eyes he was in his car with his
    > forehead pressed to the dashboard. He say up and the GPS said "Quite an
    > adventure you just had" No longer the annoying British woman but the
    > sonorous tones of Orson Welles. "This was just technoloy's way of saying
    > Happy Halloween."

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