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Sweets and original story by Shawn Micallef

30 Oct

The story I am sharing is an act of fiction written by myself. Those people who have followed my blog for some time may notice it resembles a story from last year at Halloween. The story was titled Numbers and Fear and shares a story thread with my original work, Sweets, below. The common thread that ties these two stories together? I will only say that it’s a simply rhyme and a little girl. If you wish to see Numbers and Fear just follow the link.

 

halloween-candy

Sweets by Shawn Micallef

Jason just LOVED the fall season. It wasn’t because he was accidental and tripped a lot, yeah bad pun, it was because he loved the changing season. The changing of the leaves as they turned their colors from their vibrant green to the pale shade of yellow before they fell of the trees. The color palate alive in each leaf as it went from the green they see too shades of reds and yellow that must rival a beautiful sunset. He enjoyed documenting the changes with photos and would often go to several of the local parks with his camera.

He of course had another reason for his love of the season, and that was Halloween. It wasn’t because the man loved to dress up, far from it. There was a Grinch for Christmas and he was the creature’s unhappy cousin. He hated to see the children running around in costumes and adults using the day as just another reason to party. No he loved the period due to all the candy. It would not be shocking to find the man in a store looking at the bags and mimicking movie characters like, “Get into my belly”, in a bad faux English accent. Thank you Fat Bastard.

There was of course on big problem with love of candy, those bit sized candy bars that fit so well in the mouth with one bite. Those scrumptious bits of chocolate with nuts, nougat, peanut butter, caramel and other items filled within those shells. He even found it funny how some of these candies came in ghoulish designs and laughed at those he thought looked like coffins. In any shape, or form, it was candy and he just had to have it and with the money he made as a freelance programmer he could afford it.

It was a job that fit the man, almost as perfect as a designer leather glove fitted to your hand. He was able to sit behind a computer desk his fat fingers flying across the keyboard as he typed code. The glare of the twin monitors often seen from outside his one bedroom apartment window as he worked late into the night. He had all he needed in that apartment and most importantly a desk that let him have his favorite caffeine filled beverage on his right and a plastic orange pumpkin bowl to his left always full of candy.

He even had an exercise bike in his bedroom as his doctor had told him more times than he could remember to stop eating the candy and get some exercise. He took the doctors instructions as less than orders and more as an advisement and he would follow on how he felt. The bike was an attempt to at least get exercise but since it had no cup holder it became a clothes holder. He had his shirts hanging off several parts of the bike and a jacket tossed on the seat.

Sadly he was not the cleanest man as he would often tear open the packaging of his favorite treat. He took the candy between his lips, pulled it from its plastic covering and chewed, and would toss the wrapper anywhere but into the empty garbage can. This lead to a hoarding type of situation as 10 years of life in the same apartment and all that candy the piles would grow, and grow. His landlord even stopped answering the complaints about the smell from his apartment. He did this as Jason paid the man extra every month and it did help he always paid in cash. (What the tax man doesn’t know, right.)

It was thus on a Halloween Eve that things went wrong for Jason. He had just returned from a run to a local store to stock up on more candy. He had a mixture of bags, as usual, and after dropping those on the floor ran to his bedroom as he heard the answering machine, beep beep beep. He of course had to have a landline to make some of his more paranoid clients happy. I mean when you code for a national bank and a military supplier last thing they want is a cell phone call being heard by other ears.

As he ran to the room plowing through the candy wrappers like a twin bladed snow plow opening up four feet of snow he forgot about his stationary bike. He ran into one of its legs stubbing his foot badly and as he reached to stable himself he fell hitting the corner of his dresser. He landed hard, candy wrappers crunched under him and others flew into the air with several landing on his body. He was out cold, bleeding from his forehead and nearly covered with candy bar wrappers. If it wasn’t so sad it would be funny. You would almost see this on some viral video site as a massive fail.

He awoke hours later dizzy and in severe pain. His foot throbbed with pain going up his leg and his head, ouch, what was that he felt. He put a hand up to his head and well of course candy wrappers stuck to his head. He sat up and started to pull them off when he looked at a few and saw the dark red tint of dried blood. He was lucky to be alive and then he heard an odd noise. The beep, beep, beep of his answering machine was still going but that wasn’t what he heard. He heard, no that cannot be right, he heard a voice singing and in HIS apartment.

“One, two, three,

I come for thee,

Four, five, six,

Beware what I will inflict.”

It repeated over and over and he started to look around. He then yelled, “Who is in here? If this is some joke get out of here or I’ll call the cops.” He said that as he tried to pull himself up and get to his phone. He heard it again, but this time the lyric changed.

“One, two, three,

I come for thee,

Four, five, six,

Beware what I will inflict.

Seven, eight, nine

Watch how thy shall dine,

Now with ten,

Your life is at an end.”

Yes he was in severe pain but when you hear a young girl’s voice say your life is at an end what are you going to do? Sit there, hardly, you are jumping up to your feet to find the source. However how do you react when you see a little girl dressed in the oddest of costumes? She had a princess costume on but instead of being pink it was black. She had small horns by her ears and blood red lips that were a contrast to her pale white face. Her hair was jet black and oddly tied up in dual pony tails that did nothing to hide those horns. She was seated on his bed; her legs dangled and moved back and forth as they kicked the mattress.

“Who the hell are you, and how did you get in my apartment? Better yet you know it’s not Halloween it’s tomorrow.”

She looked at him her eyes black and cocked her head to the left and spoke in a manner much older than the years she looked.

“One who fills his mouth with the sweets of the world should have better manners when addressing a stranger in his home. It is complimentary of a host to ask a guess if they want something to drink.” She paused looked him eyes locking on his sending a chill through his spine as she spoke the next words. “Or perhaps something to eat.”

Ok he was officially creeped out and there was no way in hell he was giving this girl any of his candy. He had NEVER shared with those kids foolish enough to waste time knocking on his door at Halloween and was not going to start now.

“I don’t care what you think and how I should act. This is my apartment, you are in here illegally and best get out or I call the cops. Oh don’t even think of touching my candy it’s all MINE!”

She closed her eyes and shook her head and repeated her creepy song but she paused for a few seconds before saying the last word.

“One, two, three,

I come for thee,

Four, five, six,

Beware what I will inflict.

seven, eight, nine

Watch how thy shall dine,

Now with ten,

Your life is at an (pause) end.”

He had enough and walked, well hopped through the mess of candy bars to the front door. He tried to open the door but it did not move. He pulled and pulled, checked the lock and tried again. The door would not open.

“Listen here you little, ahh hell, BITCH! I don’t know who you are, or give one shit where you came from but get the hell out of here now…”

He didn’t finish his thought as the moment he used the word bitch she was in front of him in less than a second. He didn’t even see her move she was so fast.

“I have mentioned to you about your manners but you have left me no choice. Your name is Jason and you are not the first I collect. You are a glutton who picked your sweets over a blessed life. I have song my song of warning for you two times and now we are at three. You may not know what this means for you “, she paused and sang that song.

“One, two, three,

I come for thee,

Four, five, six,

Beware what I will inflict.

Seven, eight, nine,

Watch how thy shall dine,

Now with ten,

Your life is at (long pause) an END!”

It was three months later when Jason was found. His landlord got tired of knocking at his door month after month to get his rent. He finally broke down and called the cops to come and witness this dispute.

The police ended up breaking down the door and after getting it open there was only one sound to be heard. The beep, beep, beep of the answering machine was all anyone heard. The landlord ran out of the apartment, the police backed out and eventually called dispatch.

The scene was never put out to the public but rumors did hit the internet. One even claimed to have an eyewitness account from the landlord. It was said not to be credible as the man sold the property, fled the state and last was heard heading to Alaska.

The story went as followed and readers can judge for themselves if they think the man was a crazy or was there truth in his story.

I was pissed and figured that fat slob would be in their eating candy typing on his computer. The cops busted the door open and I thought I’m adding the cost of repair to his back rent. I don’t care if he’s been paying me extra, and then I saw the room. It was nearly spotless all those candy wrappers were piled in a huge pile in the middle of the room. It was then when I looked at the pile I saw the the the blood. It had dried and the wrappers had an odd color to them but the dark red color was unmistakable it was blood. As I started to look around the room I saw more blood. The wall was sprayed, the ceiling, it was everywhere. I didn’t see a body but painted on the wall by the bed room there was something written in blood. None of us spoke. It read:

“One, two, three,

I come for thee,

Four, five, six,

Beware what I will inflict.

Seven, eight, nine

Watch how thy shall dine,

Now with ten,

Your life is at an

END.”

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2 Comments

Posted by on October 30, 2014 in Short Stories

 

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2 responses to “Sweets and original story by Shawn Micallef

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