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Mother'd day story (unfinished)

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Joined: 30 Mar 2004
Posts: 1676
Location: Seattle
Mother'd day story (unfinished)  Reply with quote  

OK this one was never finished. Kinda accidently wrote my protaganists into a wall. No where to go and stuff. So don't look for an ending, cause it doesn't end.


Nothing can cure a scrape or bruise like mother's spit. Whether transported througha kiss or a lick of a napkin, her spit is the most powerful healer in the world. Most doctors would disagree with the comment but the simple fact of the matter was, if you were three to nine years old, you never heard of the neosporean that was put under the bandaid or the ice pack put under your arm while you were asleep. If anything were to go wrong it wasn't superman or Jesus you looked for. It was mom. 'Cause mom was the healer of booboos, the easy bearer of bad news and the one who loved you more than anything in the world.

That has been said, so now you can understand this.

* * *
"Mommy!" the child cried. "Mommy! The bad man! Mommy! The bad man!" The child was sitting up in his bed. "Mommy!" he cried again, "Mommy the bad man!"

Megan Sheller walked into the room with a terricloth robe wrapped loosely around her body. "What is it honey?" she asked. "It's alright mommy's here. I won't let anything happen to you." She hugged the small child and kissed him on the head.

"Mommy the bad man! He's in my closet! Mommy!"

"Shhhhhh." Megan said calmly. "Mommy's here nothing will happen to you."

"But but but. Mommy he's in the closet!"

"There's no one in there. Do you want me to show you? No one at all." She ran her fingers through his soft brown hair. Rocking him back and forth. "Shhhhh baby it's all going to be O.K." She stood up and stepped towards the closet.

"No! Mommy! noooo!" Crocodile tears rolled down his face. "No mommy the bad man!"

"It's O.K. honey see?" Her voice was calm as she opened the closet. "See? No bad man after you."

Then the deepest darkest voice Megan had ever heard seeped out of the closet. "Well you're right on two accounts." it said, "I'm not a man, and I'm not after your son." Then Megan was violently ripped into the closet.

"Nooooooo!" the child Sobbed, "No! Mommy!"

* * *

John got up that morning and did his morning stretches. They consisted of getting out of bed, felxing his arms while eating breakfast, bending backwards to watch beautiful babes in spandex exercise on early morning TV, and pushing buttons on his answering machine. One of the messages was from his boss at the precinct. It said he had more missing people cases on his desk than metabolism in his body. He was obviously overreacting. His boss was a big fat slob and took every moment he could to make fun of the fact that John was a skinny, no butt nerd, who only got a job because of his brains. John was ok with that though.

John drove to work listening to the morning radio. The news was on in between songs. Three major stories were always referred to. The international flood, the war against drugs was slowly depleting itself, and the mother's day parade was still a go with or without rain. John listened but wasn't really conserened with a lot of it. He lived on the third floor of an apartment building, he worked with missing people clients not drug lords, and his mother died when he was young. So today he had no worries, until he got to work.

He walked into the building and said his daily hello's. "Hey Gregory, Howdy George, You're looking very lovely miss mailroom lady, how's it going Larry." He checked his in box at the main office and found nothing important form anyone higher up.

His Boss walked up, "Stickboy, you're late! What's your excuse today? Forgot to set alarm? Got tanked last night and thought it'd be better to come in late than drunk?"

"Ummmmm . . ." John looked up into the cieling and thought about a good comeback. He really didn't give a damn about being late. He was the only officer they had working with missing persons. "I guess I spent too much time with that morning liposuction to keep my physique. Ehh fatty?" He drummed a short ditty on the bosses stomach, which was taking up more space than three watermelons, and started to his office

The boss turned bright red. "Go to your office John," he said, "Make sure that I don't see your face for the rest off the day. You don't want to be unemployed do you?"

"Pfft. Right." he said sarcastically.

"Don't roll your eyes at me young man!"

"Yes mother." John smiled as he continued to walk towards his office.

He walked by his sectretary who commented, "Another great start to the day sir. oh and by the way I won't be here next week. Probably not for another 3 months."

John stopped and said, "What? Why?"

His secretary stood up and showed off her impregnated stomach. "I have a bit of an obligation." She smiled.

"Oh right. You related to this big boss man? I can see the resemblance."

"No." she chuckled, "Here," she handed him a slip of paper. "This is a contact number of a friend looking to make a few bucks. She is more than qualified and won't give you a bit of trouble. Please give her a call"

John looked at the name and number, "Thanks," he said. "I'll do that." He slipped the paper into his pocket and walked into his office.

He looked at the in box which was overflowing. "Maybe he wasn't overreacting." he muttered as he plopped himself into his leather chair. Yet he didn't realise that the closet was open, nor did he hear the quiet chucklings of the deep dark voice.

* * *
John flipped through the myriad of missing persons reports and found persons reports. He was surprised by the number of women in the large pile. Most of the time it was prebubecent boys trying to prove to their parents that they couldn't live without their little Timmy or Billy. He didn't understand it, they get everything from thier parents, love, compassion, free utilities, food, shelter. If he could he'd go back to being a child in a second.

He split up the pile into three smaller piles; missing, dead, and found. He sifted through the missing pile and organized it according to date from the most recent to most out of date. There was a better chance of finding a recent loss than a past one. Then he did the same with the Dead pile and tossed the found pile, there was no use in sifting through old news. He sarted reading through the missing pile. There were so many women, not younger than 22. They got as old as 70 though which also confused John. He continued through them, Megan Sheller 27, Sherry Bellman 32, April Messenger 56, Terri Josh 23, Georgeanna Wilson 38. Then he sifted through the deaths. Teenage boy stabbed in local diner, plethora of mummified women found behind local seven11, older man has heartattack at laundrymat. Waitaminute! He backed up to the mummified women and read the details:

Date: 09 May 2002
Time: 13:47
Officer: 2LT Sam Evanovich
Place: Seven 11 on corner of Blouant and Croviker
Situation: While performing patrol SGT Newman and I had discovered aproximately 20 bodies behind local seven 11. The bodies had not begun to decompose yet but did not look like they had passed away recently. Their skin was wrinkly and shiny like rubber. There was no special arrangement suggesting that it wasn't done by a serial killer. No physical commanality either. called in to staff duty at aproximately 1400.

Pictures were included in the report. The bodies looked exactly like described. Piled up in no particular arrangement and dried up like raisins. Almost as if they were used like juice boxes and thrown away. They were dehydrated, serverely. It didn't make sense. It was disturbing. Sure they had more info on the case but nothing he really needed to know so he was never told. He looked at the two piles. He knew what was going on but he didn't know who or why. He paged his secretary and said, "Hey Sally, I'm going over to Dental on a propable lead. I have a package arriving soon, if it comes by while I'm away could you please sign for it and set on my desk."

"Sure thing, John. I'll be going on lunch in about an hour is that ok?"

"Right-io! See ya 'round one O'clock."

* * *
Sally sat sideways with her feetout away from the desk. She cringed in pain. "Man!" she yelped. "If you don't stop kicking I'd think you were ready to pop today." She sat deligently and quietly waiting for Johns Package to arrive. She straightened her desk the best she could. Occasionaly, she whipped out a paragraph or two of a book that would never be published. She knew it. her parents knew it. Yet, she trudged on never loosing her dream of becoming one of the few authors to equal Stephen King, John Grisham, or Tom Clancy.

She continued to sit and twiddle her thumbs when-

"Sssssssssss!!" she let in a breath full of anger and pain. "Goddammit! What are you? Somekind of soccer player?" She picked up the telephone and dialed her doctor. The kicks weren't just kicks anymore. They were contractions.

"This is the tricare medical center , please hold." There was an audible click and then "Hang On Sloopy" played. "Haaaaaaaa-" PAIN "aaaang on Slooooooo-" PAIN "oooopy! Sloopy! Sloopy hang on!" PAIN!!!

"Excuse me miss?" A well built gentleman in a UPS uniform approached the desk. He had a package under one arm and a clipboard in the other. "I have a package for a Mr. John-"

"PUT IT ON THE DESK!!!!" she screamed.

"But ma'am this is for a-"

"I SAID PUT IT ON THE GODDAMN DESK!!" she screamed again.

The deliveryman set the package down quickly and stepped away. "C-C-Could I have your s-s-signit-t-ture?" he asked cautiously waving his clipboard in shaky hands.

She shot a glare at him and a low growl began to creep from inside her. Then a shocked look and a moan of sporadic pain.

"Ma'm?" the deliveryman said.

Sally screamed again. Pure all out pain shot throughout her entire body. "Go!! Out!! Leave!! Must!! Stay!! Online!! Haaaaang On Sloopy! Sloopy Hang on!"

The deliveryman threw up his arms as if to say, "Fuck this crazy lady!" and walked away.

"Wait!" Sally cried, "Wrong desk!" but it was too late. He already rounded the corner. "Shit!" She bobbed between phone and package. She slammed the reciever down on the desk, grasped her stomach, hooked the package under her arm, and hummed hang on sloopy. She inched her way to John's office door inbetween contractions. She opened up the door and said, "Oh I'm sorry, um John's not here. I can- ughn!! I can page him though. how long have you been waiting? Could put this on the desk over there for me please?" She then fell to her knees in pain.

Then the deep dark voice said, "I've bee waiting about nine months, for you." The door was slammed shut defening the screams of Sally.

* * *
John stepped into the Dental office shuffling through the reports.

Sherry Bellman was your average mother with three children at the age of 8,7, and 2. She worked at an office as an executive. The file only showed three small moving violation, and no mentall illness. John could find no reason for her to runnaway, or have any enemies.

April Messenger was now a grandmother. She had four children of her own that were now 31, 29, 25, and 24. She lived a normal life of an old lady. Stayed at home and made homemade cookies for her 10 grandchildren or walked to church. Again, no reason to runnaway, and no enemies.

Terri Josh was trouble spelled with a capital T. Her records were littered with petty thiefts most from the food for less; Baby formula, rattles, teething rings, diapers. Plenty of reasons to runnaway, but again, no enemies.

Georgeanna Wilson lived the average life, with your average kids, and your average home. No enemies but maybe she had Leave it to Beaverism.

The male receptionis smiled and said, "Anything I can help you out with?"

"Well," John's eyebrows frowned in thought, "This is supposed to be done by forensics or detectives or something like that, but f*ck it." He handed the receptionist the files. "I need the doc to try and match these up with the bodies behind the Seven 11." He had a hunch they would match up but he didn't know how.

"Oh, you mean the mommies."

"The what?"

The receptionist already had his arms out like a zombie, humming the snake charmers chant. "You know, mummies."

"No, you were right the first time. They're all mothers!"

* * *

John walked down the hallway with a glum look on his face. Finding out that one of the people you're supposed to be looking for is dead, much less four of them. He had found a connection between the murders which put a silver linning on his cloudy day. But the thunderstorms where about to begin. He looked up toward the end of the hall where his office was. There was a gaggle of uniforms standing outside his office writing on notepads and looking overall beat and disgusted. Every TV in his head put a small Banner up on the bottom of the screen that said, "Tornado warning!" One of them spotted John and yelled, "There he is! Get him!" Suddenly, earthquakes shook wildly throughout Nerousisville. John was sprinting for . . . for . . . for anything! Just as long as he got out of there! He was dodging this and stepping over that, jumping this way ducking that. He found an Emergency Exit and tripped through it. His skinny hide slid easily through hand rails and dropped a dramatic 3 stories into the dark basement of the building. A pair of glowing eyes stepped forward towards him and the deep dark voice said, "I've been waiting for you too, ever since I drank your mother"
* * *
John had passed out directly afterwords. The glowing eyes and dark voice grasped his lifeless body and drug him by his collarbone through the cellar. It approached a clear area in the wall and placed it's pale, blue hand, with four inch brown claws on the wall. It's neon pupils rolled to the back of it's head. The head shook wildly, it let out a primal scream of pain and fustration as it's hand melted into the wall. Soon, the entire forearm was enveloped. It leaned into the wall a little further and stopped at it's shoulder. A deep breath was taken, and relaxation was reached for a mere second. Then it began again with twice as much vigor as before, with the shaking, and screaming, and easily slipped the rest of it's body through the wall and into it's own deep dark dimension. It shuddered and the voice said, "I 'HATE' that!"

Then a voice just as dark and just as deep said, "Where's the bait?"

The glowing eyes looked down at the empty hands and the original deep dark voice said, "Poo."

* * *

Excerpt from a book entitled, "Boogeywoman: A True Sprite's Legend" from the hell dimension:

"'Daddy' the sprite cried. 'Daddy! The boogey woman! Daddy! The Boogeywoman!' the sprite was laying in the eggshell position. 'Daddy!' it cried again, 'Daddy! The Boogeywoman! She's after me!!'

Daddy never showed up and the sprite continued to cry ro itself. Smoke and light began to seep through the cracks of the closet door. The sprite coughed between sobbs. the door burst open and a horrid double breasted beast stood there. The skin had wrinkiled from age and the long old hair had grown grey with decay. The beast approached the sprite and laughed out loud. It picked up the sprite and dragged it away into the closet cackling.

* * *
True the dimension wasn't hell, it was dark, it was hot, but it wasn't hell. a small creature huddled in a small cave on a rainy night. It was hiding from something big, something huge. It shivered naked in the back with tears rolling down it's cheeks like avalanches of fear. It trembled as it listened to the loud grumblings of the thing that was following it. A pair of peircing glowing eyes peered around the opening of the cave. The small creature let out a small shrill.

"There you are." A deep dark voice emminating from the glowing eyes said. "I hear you've been out passed curfew. Is that true?"

"Eek." the creature said meekly as if that answered all the voices questions.

"What!" the voices raised as it approached. The creature let out such a shrill that glass could have broken had it existed in the dimension. It also thrusted it's hands trying to ward off the voice. "Oh come on." the voice said, "What are you gonna do? Pet me to death?" Two blue hands picked the creature up and thrust it against the wall. "Now. Why were you out that late?"

The creature shrugged and looked down to the ground and said, "Me mo me bippity bo."

One hand balanced on the chest of the sprite and the other lifted as the voice aksed, "What?"

"Me mo me bippity bo! Me mo me bippity bo!!" the sprite repeated with urgency and fear in his voice.

The hand in the air dropped and the claws bore deep into the creatures face. The tears mixed with the wounds which just made the wounds sting more and the sprite cry more in a neverending cycle of pain. "Lut, Lut, me mo me bippity bo!"

The claws bored in a different direction in pure unadulterated anger. "Say that again and I'll cut you up so bad that you'll look like a four course meal at the sizzler." The sprite shot a confused look. Before the voice could explain a figure of a 55 to 60 year old woman appeared in the opening.

"I don't think you'll be touching him again." the woman said.

"What! No! It can't be!" the blue hand dropped the sprite. "I heard you were sucked dry over 20 years ago?"

"Well you heard wrong baby." She then shot an arrow into the blue hand still wavering in the air. It was impaled on the wall and instantly began splurting a purple ooze that dripped onto the sprite's head. the lady then pointed the next arrow at the sprite. "You," she said, "Go. Run."

The Sprite ran behind her legs and babbled, "mofo me bippity bo. Do bippery ca ca ca. Kik." it then let out a small chuckle.

The lady whipped around and pointed the weapon point blank between the sprite's eyes. "Look," she said, "You're tolerable now, but soon enough you'll turn into that. In fact, I should just kill you now and put out of your misery."

"Poooooooo! Me mo me bippity bo! Me mo me bippity bo!" the sprite fled leaving just the woman and the voice.

"And here I thought you were just a story my leaders told me when I was you to make me behave."

"The feeling's mutual." the woman said. "But that just makes it easier for me to kick your booty."

Another hand whipped around her neck from the rain and the owner said, "It's funny you should mention an ass kicking and mutuality."

My Twitter is twittering!

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