Friday, 26 February 1999

Short Story: No Time To Lose

No Time To Lose

“I hope you’re behaving Karl Fontella” came Mum’s hollow voice drifting from the kitchen.

“Um” I mumbled in reply. I was bored. I looked up to see the clock. The hours were slowly ticking on. The time until my party started lasted eternity. Unless I could some how make the time go faster, then it would come quicker.

“You can, you know?” came a squeaky voice from deep inside the clock.

I sat up bolt right. “What?” I stammered.

“You can make time go faster” said a small elf dressed in green clothing, appearing from around the bottom of the clock.

“Who are you?” I whispered in my soft husky voice.

“Arizonia, the helpful elf” it replied.

“You won’t hurt me will you?” I said stupidly; but bearing in mind I was only five so I didn’t know what to say.

“Of course not!” it exclaimed.

“Oh” I replied, “that’s alright then.”

I put out my hand and the little elf clambered on. His little delicate steps tickled my palm.

“Aren’t you afraid I might hurt you?” I asked.

“No, because I am immortal. I cannot die.”

“That’s good then, we can both trust each other.”

I gently placed him on the chair arm.

“Now what were you saying about time?” I questioned.

“I said you can make time fly” replied Arizonia.

“How?” I asked.

“Chuck a clock in the air!” He chuckled at his own joke.

“No, honestly?” I asked.

“I’ll shrink you, and take you to my cousin, Saint Fortel the Keeper of Time. He lives in Mr. Jubilee’s toadstool patch.”

The little elf produced a small bottle containing some blue liquid.

“Now put your forefinger out” he ordered.

I obediently did so.

He tipped a little drop onto my finger and I lifted it to my lips. I sucked my finger. I felt a tingle run through my body like a bolt of electricity. I felt myself shrinking and fell to the size of a mouse. The elf now towered over me.

“Come” he said, “I’ll lead you to my cousin.”

I followed Arizonia to the grandfather clock. It was then that I saw what I looked like! My charcoal black hair was ruffled about, and my blue eyes had bags beneath them. I was wearing a Nike sweater badly creased, and some jeans that were very, very filthy. I still wore my Batman slippers. I looked at the mirror reflection in disgust. It pulled a face back at me. I turned away.

“Come on slow coach” came Arizonia’s voice echoing through the muddy tunnel that led beneath the clock.

I took one last look in the mirror, then turned and ran after Arizonia. The passage was narrow and steeply spiralled down towards the centre of the Earth. I caught up with Arizonia just before he entered a large dimly lit room. The room was swarming with dwarves and elves of all different shapes and sizes! They all ran over to Arizonia complaining and shouting abusive language at him, continuously turning and looking at me, or pointing at me. I turned and started to run for a door marked ‘exit’ but a stern voice louder than all the rest silenced the room. It was Arizonia’s.

“Whilst all of you lounge around larking about, there are people who need help. At this moment in time I seem to be keeping our reputation for myself. You all get rewarded for sitting around whilst I work my heart out all day long. Then you even have the nerve to bite my head off when I keep our money coming in! From now on you’re going to have to earn your wages!”

Arizonia barged through the hushed crowd and made his way towards me.

“I’m sorry for their behaviour” he apologised.

He turned and headed away, an upset expression on his face. I followed.

He led me to a little tunnel. I was led through a whole network of tunnels and kept having to dive into little holes in the walls as ants and worms made their way past. Eventually we emerged into a room with a small elevator.

We climbed in and Arizonia set the floor to ‘6849000~UP’.

When the lift finally stopped he entered ‘:80AR80*DF Arizonia Augustus Karter’. The doors eased open and I found myself surrounded by toadstools. A younger elf exited out of a toadstool. “Kane Porter” he beamed grinning, “but most people call me Saint Fortel”.

“Karl” I remarked smirking.

“And what can I do for you today Arizonia?”

“Well…” he hesitated. “Can you sort out time; put the clocks forward too…” he trailed off to allow me to continue.

“Four o’clock” I said.

He went into the toadstool and returned with a small golden clock. He turned the time to four o’clock.

“Agh. the party’s going to start without me!” I wailed.

“Is something wrong?” asked Kane.

“Yeah! The party is starting without me!” I wailed.

“There’s no time to lose!” exclaimed Arizonia. “The buggy!”

Arizonia bundled me into the back of the buggy. Arizonia took the passenger seat, and Kane took driver.

“We’ve got to get home” I exclaimed.

Kane put his foot square down. The engine rocketed into gear and mobile sped forwards.

“Put on the jetpack” Kane commanded.

I did.

“Climb into the cannon!” called Arizonia.

“Prepare the firing” cried Arizonia to Kane.

“Klipgear to A23 and Forehead to linkJ” said Kane.

“Take 4th gear and 2nd, I’ll take 1st and 3rd” said Arizonia.

“Battle stop light red?”

“Check!”

“Set light Fru to green!”

“Check!”

“And Trey light to Perder!”

“Check!”

“Five… four… three... two… one… zero!”

The explosion echoed behind me and I was fired up through the bedroom window onto my bed. A crowd suddenly burst in.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY KARL!”

I drew in my breath as the cake was brought in; on it were two little elves dressed in green. Arizonia and Kane! They sat in a small blue and white buggy in a semi-circle of toadstools. I looked hard at them, and saw Arizonia wink and mouth “Happy Birthday”.

Wednesday, 17 February 1999

Short Story: April's Fool

April’s Fool

Kyle picked up his ball and barged into the queue next to Jade. He secretly had a crush on Jade, and only him and his best friend Reggie Trevill knew. Kane Walker cruised out of the door.

“Yo dude, how’cha doin?”

He thought himself a big hit; a real riot.

“What’s it gotta do with you?”

“Only being friendly” he said, backing away, hands raised either side of his head.

“Well we don’t call that being friendly. We call it being nosy.”

Kane turned and shuffled away, chuntering to himself.

“Not the friendly Kyle Turner we’re used to. What’s bugging you?” said Tommy Gilson.

“You, you turnip.”

“Oooh, scary Kyle keeno Turnip’s gonna punch me in. Ooooh, I’m shaking in me shoes, and me knees are knocking, the nails are piling in enormous heaps as the tension grows.”

“You’ll be laughing on the other side of your face, Tommy Turnip Gilson!”

“Scary!”

Then all of a sudden, Kyle pounced on his unsuspecting foe, pinning him to the ground by his throat, then beating him to the pulp.

“Git off Ky’!”

“Or else?”

“Or else I’ll fill you in!”

“In this position? Or in your dreams?”

“In this position.”

A fist struck Kyle in the jawbone, but it wasn’t Tommy’s. It was Kane’s.

“This isn’t your fight, so go hike it!”

“Where? Killer Cliffs?”

“No, Death Valley!”

A fist made contact with Kyle’s nose, and this time it was Tommy’s.

Blood trickled down his lips onto his navy blue sweater.

“You’ll pay for that.”

“How much?”

“Your life!” cried Kyle punching out wildly.

***

Kyle stood in “The Headmasters” room shaking his head at Dr. Juel.

“Wasn’t me sir, I was in the gym with Bunter” protested Kyle.

“It was you, I saw you with my own eye” argued Dr. Juel. “I sentence you to The Remove” said the headmaster, pointing at Kyle.

“But… but… but…” stuttered Kyle.

“No buts, and that’s final.”

***

Blood dripped from Tommy’s nose.

“You dobbed on me din’t ya’!?” asked Kyle.

“You punched me in the nose!” he exclaimed.

“So! You set Kane on us!”

“Big deal, you always say he’s weak!”

“I’m only joking!” Kyle wailed.

“So!?”

Tommy grabbed out at Kyle and throttled him.

“Git off me!” cried Kyle sparking Tommy in the face.

Tommy fell to the floor clutching the right hand side of his face. “Stupid gimp!” he cried, sitting upright.

“Get back down” sniggered Kyle kicking him in the face.

Tommy fell onto his back.

Then Kane bustled in with Tinks and Corky. Immediately as if programmed they stooped down and picked Kyle up. The slid into a cubicle and proceeded to force Kyle’s head down the toilet and flush the chain. Giggles erupted, and soon Gilson was having a spasm in hysterics on the tiled stone floor, blood still running down his face.

“I’ll get…” he paused as his head was plunged down into the lav. “…you, Gilson!”

Then a riot broke out and Kyle became aware of Reggie’s presence. Kyle felt the fingers being prised from his feet. Kyle kicked out striking Kane in the face.

Next day was April’s Fool Day. And this one was guaranteed to be one to remember…

As Kyle entered through the school gates he saw a bloody mess resting against the wall of the annex. He rushed over to the lump, and a surprised laugh tore through the air. He immediately recognised the body as Reggie.

“Good April’s Fool” he said. “Where’d you get the fake blood Reg?”

He stopped.

“Reg? Reg?? Reg!” he shouted.

“REGGIE! NO!” he wailed dropping to his knees clutching thin air tightly in his balled hands. “Noooooo!” His shout had turned to a scream, and he grabbed handfuls of his hair, tearing out clumps. Huge tears welled in his eyes.

But then the sorrow turned to anger and hate burning up inside him.

“I will catch the killers, and I will punish them like they did you in.” Kyle bent and scooped up the note.

In thick spidery letters read:

Reggie was lucky, his death was quick but if you interfere, when your turn comes it will be slow and painful. Deliberate and on purpose this death is. Reggie deserved to die. He was an ignorant pig, always sticking his two penny worth in where it isn’t wanted.

If you want to be a hero, try to find and save Simon Westerman before his soul is claimed. His hobby is being a total sleaze. Always blackmailing girls and boys into his world. A true windbag. Think of his hobby, it might give you a clue to his whereabouts.

But to make it more of a challenge, I’ll also go to kill David Carter for being a thief. I have eyes everywhere. I see all. Don’t try to escape your fate. I’m on my way to kill one of them now. Pick one or the other.

Simon or David?

It’s your choice. If you pick the wrong one, you’ll have the others death on your conscience forever.

THE REAPER

The race was on. It was obvious the murderer was Kane. Simon was the next one to die he’d decided. He turned and ran towards the science block. He looked up Simon Westerman on the registration form. Lab 04.

As he ran into the lab he saw the body sprawled across the floor and another note on the desk.

This one read:

Too slow Kyle. Right place though, I’m impressed. But to stall you, I’ll blather on about a load of junk. Aren’t you running late for history? Oh yeah, you’re all bunged up aren’t you? Ha, ha, ha! You think my jokes are blunt don’t you? Too dull for you. You don’t look fit for the job. Webber’s next you know. Or maybe I’ll just blow out Juel’s brains? Carter is still on the hitlist you know. I’ll have to leave off now, because I wouldn’t want to get caught just after I’ve only killed two! Bad luck freak! Take your pick; Carter, Webber or Juel.

THE REAPER

Carter’s next I reckon, thought Kyle.

He rushed for the English room. He burst in midway through Dr. Juel’s speech.

He became the centre of attention.

“We have a volunteer to go into my machine!” she exclaimed.

She took Kyle and led him to a suspicious looking contraption up the corner. She opened the rusty door leading into the machine. “In you go” she smirked.

Inside the machine was damp and suffocating. A mysterious vapour poured through a concealed vent. The gas was warm for it’s cold colour. Greyish and bluish, it swirled at his feet. A wave of nausea swept over him. He thudded on the door. “Let me out!”

“In yer’ dream!” she replied.

“I’ll sue you!”

“If you live!”

He pounded repeatedly on the iron door. At first small dents appeared, then bigger ones, then bigger ones, then even bigger ones. Eventually the door fell off it’s hinges onto the floor, and out clambered Kyle.

The room was empty, and on the floor lay Dr. Juel. Decapitated.

Her head lay on the sideboard, her mouth twisted in fear. The note next to it read:

She’d lose her head if it wasn’t attached. And now it isn’t! BLOOD. BLOOD. BLOOD. YUMMY. THREE DOWN, A FEW TO GO. BUT YOU’RE LAST. YOUR FATE’S THE WORST. DON’T INTERFERE WITH THE PROFESSIONALS, CAUSE YOU’LL LOSE. OF COURSE, IF YOU CAN FIGURE OUT WHO I AM YOU CAN PREPARE MY FUNERAL. BUT THE CHANCES OF THAT ARE NINETY NINE TO ONE. ANOTHER PERSON TO ADD TO YOUR LIST. TOMMY GILSON. NO REASON APART FROM HE THINKS HE’S THE BIG HIT. KANE WALKER ISN’T TO FAR UP THE LIST EITHER. BUT I KNOW YOU WON’T TRY TO SAVE THEM SO I’LL KILL SOMEONE ELSE. I’LL DESCRIBE THEM.

BLACK HAIR. BROWN EYES. TANNED SKIN. AND THIN. MY GRUDGE IS THAT THEY’RE NICE. WHO IS IT? ANY CLUE? HOPE SO CAUSE THEIR HEART IS MINE IN LESS THAN FIVE MINUTES. DECIDE WHO IT IS NOW IF I WERE YOU, AND YOU SHOULD KNOW THEM, WELL. WELL? WHO IS IT, EH? I’LL GIVE YOU A CLUE. THEIR NAME STARTS WITH A J, HAS FOUR LETTERS AND ENDS IN E. WITH A + IN THE MIDDLE. WHO IS IT? COME ON NOW. YOU HAVEN’T GOT ALL DAY. GO AND SAVE YOUR GIRLS HEART. J+E = JADE. She’s gonna be mine forever. No need to be jealous. I just want her heart. Not her body. Sweet dreams, forever.

THE REAPER

Jade Wallace! The sexiest girl in school! Kyle’s girlfriend! No!

Kyle turned and ran up the corridor to the auditorium but before he’d even reached the room he knew what he was going to see. There lay Jade’s body sprawled across the concrete floor surrounded by a lake of blood. In the middle of her chest was a gigantic hole with pieces of thin scabby skin dangling into the pit of oblivion. Her rib cage smashed with blood in a varnish coat. And that was what he did see. His first emotion was sorrow as before. But once again this turned to a fuel burning inside, getting ready, preparing to burst through the top of his face and scream.

But there was a difference, this body was not accompanied by a note instead by a stuffed velvet heart saying:

JADE
IS
MINE
FOREVER

Kyle’s anger had had enough time to rev itself up and now powered through his head.

“KANE! YOUR SOUL IS MINE YOU MURDERER!”

He turned and charged up the corridor to the lounge. Inside was bare so he set off to the math’s block. Why? Because he’ll be behind the building having a fag with Tinks and Corky. Maybe Woody, Beechy and Titch as well.

But he didn’t expect to see what he saw.

There they were, yes. But instead of alive, they were dead. Their heads were caved in and their eyeballs huge and swollen. They were accompanied by a bouquet of dead black roses with a note.

ROSES ARE RED.
VIOLETS ARE BLUE.
THESE 6 PEOPLE ARE DEAD.
AND YOU WILL BE TOO.

A bullet tore through the wall and powered into Kyle’s arm. Blood oozed through the gaping wound and he was approached by…

THE ATTACKER.

A black balaclava covered the attackers identity, but as she spoke Kyle recognised her voice.

“I couldn’t let Jade interfere with our life Kyle Turner. Now there’s just me and you, and we going to go together forever Kyle. You know that verse: TIL DEATH DO US PART. Well now is the time for that verse’s end to end. Casey has victory over Kyle Turner.”

“Why Casey? Why don’t you leave me alone. You’re nuts!”

“You won’t be when I’ve finished, well, when my pets have finished with you, you won’t be. I wish you’d known my hobby before.”

Casey’s carnelian red Vauxhall Cavalier pulled up the gravel drive of a deserted hut way up in the forest. Casey led him up the steps to a shack and passed through several rooms. Eventually they emerged into a room with an enormous hole in the floor.

“So what’s your hobby, Casey? Black magic?”

“Take a look down the hole.”

“Breeding piranhas?”

“Yes, and I seldom remember to feed them so they’re very hungry. But because I like you, I’ll give you a chance to escape their teeth. I’ll leave your hands untied.”

“Why don’t you let me live anyway?”

“You know nothing. Obviously. I escaped the mental institute. I was considered a looney tune. A nutter. A crack pot.”

“I never knew.”

“You know how that felt? To be rejected for my mental state. Everyone hated me and now I’m getting my revenge. Stop trying to stall time. No one will come and save you. They’re all dead. I personally killed them, and boy it felt good. Well, are you going to jump or do you need a push?”

Silence.

“I’ll take it you need a push, Kyle” she said, heaving her weight at him. But things took a turn. Kyle dropped to his knees, and Casey plummeted to her death in the murky depths of the pit.

A lot of thrashing arose from in the pit, and Kyle looked down into clear water.

“Glad that’s over!” he said to himself.

A hand, bony and thin wrapped around his ankle. “Come to hell Kyle!” Casey droned from her grave.

Kyle found himself falling to his death into the jaws of a hungry piranha! But that never happened, because before he could make an impact a strong hand leapt out and grabbed onto his. He was heaved onto a ledge next to Gilson!

“Why did you save me Gilson!?”

“Well if I didn’t, your death would be on my conscience forever!”

Kyle looked down into the blood red water. The piranhas had sure taken care of her.

Now all Gilson and Kyle could do would be to wait for the ambulance to take them to the hospital to treat the gunshot wound in his arm.

Thursday, 4 February 1999

Short Story: Cold Hate

Cold Hate

The doughnut dangled into my Dad’s mouth. His warm breath melting the sugar crystals. The lovely cool strawberry jam dripping into his gob. My eyes grew and I began to drool. I had to get that doughnut.

The box lay empty, except for the crumbs. But he wouldn’t just walk over and ask if I want it. Me, a street urchin.

He turned his head and looked at me. Then he smiled through the water streaked glass. He pulled the doughnut away from his mouth.

He walked to the window. Then, looking at me through the glass, he closed his jaws around a segment of the doughnut. He began chewing in a teasing manner. A happy smile spread across his face.

My ragged clothes and messy hair were a sight. I looked down, and turned away.

My feet dragged along the floor. I looked up.

The sun was sinking into the houses on the horizon. Slowly and gradually the cold night was closing in like a blanket of darkness. The curtain slid across the world, engulfing it into eternal night.

I approached a shop marked SALADIN’S TAKE AWAY.

I marched around the back and knocked on the door.

Neil (one of the workers) sneaked me a couple of chips and a kebab. A shadow slid across by the bins. I eyed it warily.

Suddenly it pounced.

It landed on me. A loud screech made me realise it was a cat. Straight across the cheek. I threw it across the alley and it turned and bounded away. I put my fingers onto the wound. A steady stream of blood trickled trickled down my hand and dripped off. My brown tunic wore a hole. My grey trousers hung loosely around my legs.

I plucked my Knumb Knackers from inside my top and slid on my knuckle dusters. The Knumb Knackers (flail to you) were heavy duty iron. The bars were made of rusty iron,  and the chain was barbed. Spikes hung dangerously from the ends of the bars.

I had pure white bandage wrapped around my filthy hands. Shards of sharp glass were glued to the bandage.

I styled my hair up. Red and black hair, frozen stiff on my head. Coldness.

The freezing air wrapped around my head. Freezing my brain inside it’s casing.

My eye’s were icy blue. Cold eye’s… evil heart.

I had little flesh. I was anorexic.

I turned to see a band of youths emerge from behind the bins. Black ninja bands spiralling around their bodies. Red belts bound their suits, and red straps around their heads. Only two eyes as red as the pale sunset peered through the holes slit into the hideous face masks. A pile of black hair sat on their heads.

The three of them stood there towering like ten foot giants. A small faded logo badge was sewn into their left chest side. A small face as dark as the night set onto a blood red backing. Two swords were slotted upon their backs.

Each wore a golden medallion with a face of the devil, and yin-yang’s for eyes.

The skin surrounding their eyes were tanned. A deep voice echoed from beneath their hollow face masks.

“Bow to thee lord. Do you wish to join the Dragon Ninja’s?”

He removed the two swords from his back sword holder.

“I wish” I replied.

Several days later I had become on of the Dragon Ninja’s.

I learnt karate steps 1-487 and 488-904. I had gained a dan black in martial studies. Judo, Ju-Jitsu, Kickboxing, Karate and Wan Kan Satsu.

I ran to the barbers shop. I was searching for one thing. Revenge!

Who would of guessed my father would leave me on the back seat of a top deck of a double decker. You wouldn’t think it would you? Well he did. I hated him for it. He left me with a note labelled: To whomever may find. In the envelope was an A4 sheet of paper which read:

To whomever may find,

As money grows short,
As my firm goes ‘rupt,
This is no home for a child.
With a mother, deceased.
In a bed to rest, forever.
I’m in tears as I write this letter.
Can’t believe my baby is gone.
But please to Whomever may find.
Help my baby grow strong and live in peace.
For my sake.

Mr. Karte

Now it was pay back time. I got the Dragon Ninja’s to come as back up. I was gonna’ kick some ruddie poo.

I crept in with my electric guitar. I raised it high above me, ready to bring it pounding down upon his head when he spun round screaming “STOP! Is that the way to treat an expensive musical instrument!”

“Daddy, you know I love ya’, but you got a hell of a lot to learn about rock’n’roll!”

It struck his head, and as it did so, I heard a wail like a siren screaming through my ears. I heard chords I’d never heard before. It was beautiful.

So I took my guitar and I smashed it against the walls. And I smashed it against the floor. And I smashed it against the body of a varsity cheerleader. I smashed it against the windows. I smashed it against the door. I smashed it against the bonnet of a bright red car. Snarling, I hurried up the street and smashed it against a Harley Davidson. The Harley howled in pain; the guitar howled in hate. And then there was silence.

The guitar bled for about a week.

But not it’s own blood. The blood of my father.

My father?

I couldn’t call him my father. More like a raging bull who deserved to be hung, drawn and quartered.

He was.

So I had my revenge.

Pure, sweet and beautiful.