the little shop on elm street

spooky story. pls comment.

2008-09-20

Halloween. All Hallows Eve. Whatever. Halloween, the night when things roam. Things that go bump in the dark. Things that howl at the moon. Most of them are fake. But some of it is real. Some of it is not masked. Horrible deeds were performed on this holiday night, and to this day, you can still hear the screams of the damned coming from the small shop on the 55th street, from the small joke shop. The guard pulled the Smith and Wesson .55 caliber gun from its holster, and walked down the corridor. Fake blood decorating the doors and levels were all glinting faintly in the dark moonlight. He tried the door to the left. The store was locked. The door to the outside slammed shut. The moonlight streamed in through the windows, and the silvery pools of moonlight shone onto the floor. He noted the shards of glass, and the broken cavity where the fire extinguisher was supposed to be, with a violent shudder. He couldn’t feel anything, his intuition was shut down, and he was shivering like a lone leaf on an autumn wind. The shadow creeping up on him went totally unnoticed, only signified by the clang and the soft “unh” of the guard. The guard fell to the floor clutching his head. The pain was excruciating. And the shadow standing over him was definitely female. He raised the gun and shot. The shot clanged into the canister, releasing the foam inside. The shadow fell to his throat and started to strangle him. Through the reflective coating of the gun, he saw a face, the last face he would ever see. The face of Alicia, the daughter of the management. For a moment, he stopped flailing, and stopped short in disbelief. Wrong move, the girl clung onto his throat, and straddled his chest, vehemently shaking his head, and crushing it against the floor. The last thing Henry Verne saw was the rage filled face of Alicia. Alicia stood over the limp body of the guard, foam coming out of the container in short hisses. Real blood pooled amongst the fake blood. It was impossible to tell which was which. Alicia smiled a smug smile, and wiped her hands on the guard’s shirt. The door opened. And Alicia stood in the moonlight once more, and then, she walked back into the small shop, and took the metal axe that firemen used to break down doors, and charge into burning buildings. James walked into the death section of the store, masks of the dead, tortured, and damned screamed out at him from behind the skeletal facades. The only illumination was from the small lava lamp over in the corner. Why had he listened to his ex and come here tonight, of all places, and alone too. Why had he agreed to go to the store of the girl that he had just dumped for Jane? He took the scythe off the wall, and walked slowly. A blunt object bludgeoned the side of his head, and he fell with a loud shout. He brought the scythe to bear, and was not pleased when the flimsy wood gave way under the thwack of something sharp. He quickly brought the metal part of the scythe up to the light, and grunted as the sharp object sliced though the flesh of his shoulder, nearly grazing the joint. He still carried the course though, and cut his attacker. Alicia? He thought, in half dazed shock. The axe butt struck his head, and his vision swam with tears as the pain finally got to him. The top half of his shirt was soaked in his own blood. His adrenaline was killing him, causing his heart to beat faster, spurting blood out of the artery in his arm. He was literally killing himself. As he fell, he grabbed his attacker, and used her head to break his fall. Too late. His attacker tried to dodge, and just danced right into his grip. He smashed the attacker’s head down onto the floor. And then, before he passed out, he felt the cool of a blade against his neck, and then, oblivion. Jane was leaning against the gorilla suit of the shop, and was twirling her customary switchblade in her hands, waiting for James to go find her. she heard the loud shout, and then realized that the boy she loved had fallen. She rushed into the aisle, and found Alicia standing over the body of James, his eyes wide, an glazed in death. A bloody X was scratched onto his chest, and the flesh of his muscular shoulder hung off in tatters. The face was so horribly mutated, that it could have passed for one of the masks in the shop. She tried to scream, then found out that she could not. It was too horrible for even her to comprehend. She felt a sharp pain in her abdomen, and realized, too late that Alicia had thrown the knife clumsily, inaccurately, and instead of hitting her heart, ha instead busted her rib. She drew the penknife out, with a long drawn out scream, and then, she collapsed on the floor, as she realized that the knife had done more than just bust a rib. It had also punctured her lungs. Blood flooded the new cavity, and she could feel herself choking. The knife was slipped in between her ribs on the other side, and she collapsed, blood dribbling from her mouth. All down, one to go. She had done her work. Lord Apocalypse would be proud of her. she had condemned all the rest to hell. All of them. Now, she could be with her one true lover, he 4th horseman, Death. He would cast James, and Jane aside, and accept her. Slim, freckled clumsy, her. He would take care of her. Not like James, who had cast her aside so easily. Her body was exhausted. Her lover’s arms were waiting. She sank the knife into her own chest, and sighed, as the knife pierced her heart. She was ready. Several hours later, the ambulances arrived, the worried face of Mr. Harrison was reflected on the Van’s face. The three bodies were for the morgue. Nowhere else. Halloween. All Hallows Eve. Whatever. Halloween, the night when things roam. Things that go bump in the dark. Things that howl at the moon. Most of them are fake. But some of it is real. Some of it is not masked. Horrible deeds were performed on this holiday night, and to this day, you can still hear the screams of the damned coming from the small shop on the 55th street, from the small joke shop.

 

Reviews

[The_Dreamer]

Tragic,,,so tragic... and what a coincidence that my name was used as the antagonist!

[Undying Glory]

thanks for ur reviews man. anyway this is gripping stuff, although i wonder why you mentioned elm street without freddy krueger. good work either way