Weds
4/25/81
After school today, me, Frankie, and Will went over to the old Mooreland’s home. Something weird happened while we were there.
We broke in through the back window after Will busted it out with a big rock. We brought along a new board game that Will had stolen from his brother. I think its called a wiji board or something like that. It might be spelled with an O, but you say it like its a W.
Anyway, they claim you can talk to the spirits with it, so we thought we’d test it out at the Mooreland’s place, since what happened there a few years ago.
So, we sat down in one of the back bedrooms and started playing the game. We each had to help hold a glass circle thing over a bunch of letters and numbers. Nothing happened at first, but then Frankie started saying he heard whispers. Me and Will thought he was messing with us, but he kept saying he heard someone whisper. It kind of started creeping us out a little bit.
Then all of a sudden, Frankie screamed and grabbed his arm. We looked and could see the indention of a hand squeezing his arm. He then started shaking as he went into like a trance or something. His eyes rolled back as he jerked his face toward the ceiling and started growling. Kind of like a cat when its about to fight. It scared me and Will to death.
Frankie then started choking and gagging on something. He finally hacked up this black ball looking thing that was wrapped in black cobweb looking stuff. Some of it hung out of his mouth like cheese from a pizza slice.
He started coughing as he tried to catch his breath. So me and Will got closer to what this stuff that he hacked up. It looked like some kind of eggs, but they were already hatched open.
Frankie eventually settled down a little and just stared at the floor. When he did finally raise his head to look at us, his eyes were solid black. They just weren’t right. They were just so creepy. It gives me the willies thinking about it.
He then asked us what was wrong and why we were staring at him. He acted like nothing ever happened.
All of a sudden, a door slams shut. It scared the crap out of us. We all jumped up and ran out of there as fast as we could. Will even left the game lying there in the floor. I sure hope his brother never finds out.
Frankie was quiet the rest of the day and just didn’t act right. We all promised with an oath to never go back in there or play with an wiji board ever again.
I wonder how Frankie will be tomorrow?
David Hoffman
Typed copy from the journal entry of 11-year-old David Hoffman, childhood friend of Franklin Ethan Thompson.
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As smoke casually billowed skyward from the old paper mill, a 1982 candy apple red F-150 slowly maneuvered through traffic, as a voice from the stereo squawked out highlights of the previous night’s NBA games in between classics of Lynard Skynard, John Fogerty and Tom Petty.
“The Jazz silenced the home crowd of Atlanta as they walked away with a close victory. The final was 85-83. Your Charlotte Hornets lost while on a long road trip to Washington state. The Bullets were too much for the Hornets to handle. Final score, 114 to 101.”
The sound of heavy morning traffic cut the air, helped by a steady breeze that carried it for miles. A fresh smell of ocean air wafted through the open window. The taste of dense salty air collided with the driver of the F-150’s taste buds. An adjacent building to the right wore a faded mural that attempted to show the old town. Written on a swirly scroll in the middle were the words, “Welcome to Historic Georgetown.”
Gulls squawked as they hovered and gathered in a nearby parking lot, seeking to scavenge anything they could find. Finally getting through traffic with enough time to spare, it was just after seven, on Tuesday, March 6, 1989, as the man in the red F-150 arrived for work. The breaks squealed ever slightly as the tires rolled over the gravel with a crunch. The man reached for the knob and quieted the band as they were just beginning to sing the chorus for “The weight.”
It’d sure be nice to have this load taken off. But in the meantime he had work to do. The driver exited his truck, stretched and groaned before leaning back inside to grab his metal lunch box.
One of these days…one of these days.
He said to himself, as he spoke to the hopes of owning his own business one day. The man followed the gravel path that led to a side walk where a wooden sign read, “Georgetown International Paper Mill.” He opened the front door and continued inside where he kindly nodded and said, “good morning,” to whoever he crossed paths with. He then entered the break room where a few other men were gathered and enjoying fresh cups of coffee along with freshly baked pastries.
“Morning James, how you doing?” One of the men asked.
“I’m doing well, how about you fellas?” James asked as he sat his lunch box down on a table and walked over to the coffee pot.
Two of the men just nodded with a smile, while one of them responded, “Not too bad, another day, another dollar, you know?”
“Yeah, I know what you mean. Hey, have you heard anything about the new shipment that’s going out?”
The three men gave looks of unfamiliarity and wagged their heads.
“Well, I heard through the grapevine, boss is wanting it done by this Thursday.”
“What?” The men recanted.
“Yeah, that’s what I said.” James said with a chuckle as he carefully sipped his coffee.
“We will be doing good to get it out next week, let alone here in two days. Has Dale lost his mind or what?”
“That’s what I was telling Kurt. He said Dale had hired about six or eight new guys, that are supposed to start today, to help get this order out. So, we’ll see I guess.” James responded as the other three men just wagged their heads towards the floor.
A soft knock came to the door. “Come in.” James replied as he sat his hot coffee down on the counter beside him. The door opened slowly and revealed two men dressed in shabby work clothes, both with lunch boxes in hand.
“Hey there fellas, we’re two of the new guys. I’m Walter Avery.” The lead man said as he kindly shook James and the other three’s hands.
Walter turned and looked at the young man that had followed in behind him, “You said your name was Ethan, right?”
The young man mumbled as he continued to stare at the floor, “Yeah, Ethan…Ethan Thompson.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you Ethan. I’m James Randolph, this here is Billy Ross, Jerry Turner and Hank Norton.”
The men nod as Ethan continues to look at the floor tiles, stealing glances toward the men only if necessary. He was a scruffy young man, six-foot-two maybe a hundred and seventy pounds, rough cut hair that proceeded over his ears like a waterfall. Mingled in with infected acne was a distinguished wart on the side of one nostril, that seemed to grow the longer you stared at it. It would take a lot of work and cleaning up to ever be considered decent looking let alone a head turner.
“Just how old are you boy?” Jerry asked.
“I-I-I’m ni-nineteen.”
“Yeah, I thought you were young. You graduate school?”
Ethan nodded.
“Where did you go to high school?” Asked James.
“I was actually homeschooled.”
“Oh really?”
“Mmm Hmm.”
Jerry Turner had made a lot of mistakes in his life and he never hesitated to share what he’d learned with young folks like Ethan, so he went for it.
“Well boy, let me tell ya, you got a long road ahead of ya and you better make the most of it. Find you a good job, whether it’s here or somewhere else and work your tail off. Don’t be happy just staying where you’re at but do what the job requires and then some more on top of that. Earn that promotion and climb the ladder, so when you’re an old weasel like me, you can be thinking of retirement, instead of having to earn another paycheck. You feel me?”
Ethan nodded.
“Dang, somebody grab a tissue, that was good Jerry.” Hank joked as the men chuckled.
“Yeah Jerry, maybe you should retire now and become one of those travelling speaking mentors.” Said Billy.
But James was thinking.
“Now he’s got a good point there fellas. This kid needs to hear that. I wish someone would have told me that when I was younger. It’d be nice to move up the ladder and retire young. Heck, maybe even start your own business and be someone else’s boss for a change.”
“Yeah, keep dreaming Jimmy boy. As long as Dale is here, I don’t know if any of us will be doing much climbing. At least not up, that is.” Hank said with a scoff.
Just then a piece of machinery fired up in the back. Given off a resounded roar.
“Well, I reckon it’s time to get to work. You guys follow us, we’ll take you out here to Kurt. He’ll probably stick you with one of us for the day.” James said as the men made their way out to the open floor.
The men put on protective glasses and squished in some ear buds. Walter and Ethan are introduced to Kurt Burns, the leading supervisor of the whole plant and Dale Pennington’s right-hand man. He places Ethan with James and Jerry and allows Walter to spend the day with Hank and Billy.
“So have you worked anywhere before Ethan?” Asked James.
“Yeah, I used to deliver the morning paper.”
“Oh really? How did you like it?” James asked as he and Jerry placed new paper onto a large roller.
“It was good.”
“Ah uh. Now you see what me and Jerry just did? You put this on here and make sure its fastened down, then just come over and press this here button.” James said as he demonstrated.
The machine started up, as the roller began to turn, pushing paper forward to a cutting press.
“Now once it gets here, it’s your job to man the press. Someone will be here making sure the paper continues along the conveyor belt. Now, if the paper were to jam, the guy here will raise a fist, signaling for you to shut it off. Okay? Give him time to get the jam out, then he’ll give the thumbs up and you start it up again. Got it?”
Ethan nodded.
“All right, well let’s give it go.”
Ethan pressed a button as the roller began turning and moving the paper toward the press. James hovered Ethan’s shoulder as Jerry stood by the cutting press.
“All right, get it started and remember watch for Jerry.”
The paper passed under the large blade that resembled a medieval guillotine as Jerry gently pulled it through in about foot long pieces. It had cut off about a dozen sheets before James told Ethan to cut the machine off.
“See, easy as pie right?” Said James as he gave Ethan a slap on the shoulder.
“All right, well I’m going to go down here and separate the cuts. Just keep going until either me or Jerry tell you to shut it off, then I’ll get you to help us trim the cuts down. All right?”
Ethan just gave the same gentle nod once more.
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At Georgetown High School, students were getting antsy as the clock approached a quarter to three. The words of the teacher fail mostly upon deaf ears, except for a few who were actively engaged in the science lesson.
“Now class, can anyone tell me why an object will continue to move in its intended direction until acted upon by another force?” Mrs. Randolph received a room full of blank stares except from the two that held their hands high in the air.
“Yes, go ahead Rachel.”
The blonde headed sophomore cleared her throat and said, “Its due to the force of Inertia.”
“That’s right. Very good Rachel. Inertia is that force that causes us to lean to the side of car when we go around a curve. Or like when we slam on breaks in our car, but our bodies want to keep moving forward. Basically, Inertia is very stubborn. It wants to continue moving in the same direction it was traveling, it doesn’t like to be redirected. As we will see during tomorrow’s lecture, it plays a large role in the function of our tides here at the Ocean.”
With that, the bell rang as every note book slammed shut and the sound of pencils and paper could be heard scraping across the desks before being shoved into each student’s book bags. Zippers almost flinging off their tracks. The students rushed out of the room as they each had plans for a better day. None in which included Mrs. Randolph’s homework assignments as a priority. But there was one student who was in no rush to leave the room. It was Rachel Fuller. In fact, if it were up to her she’d allowed the lecture to continue another half hour or so. She enjoyed Mrs. Randolph’s science lectures and for that matter she enjoyed most any lectures that taught her something new.
As Mrs. Randolph was just about finished gathering her things, she noticed Rachel was just finishing as well. As they were now the only two left in the room.
“Great job answering that last question Rachel. Most students usually don’t get that one on the first try.”
“Yeah, well I try not to be most students.” Rachel replied with a gentle smile.
“I always try to stay ahead with my reading. I feel I learn more if go ahead and read the chapter I know you will be teaching from. It just reiterates what I’ve read and anything I didn’t understand from the reading, you usually go over it in class. I feel that’s the way I learn best.”
“Well, whatever you’re doing, keep it up, because it shows. Your hard work will pay off. Trust me.”
“I know. Thank you, Mrs. Randolph, see you tomorrow.”
“Yes ma’am, you take care Rachel.” She says as Rachel heads out the door and into the hallway.
That child is going to be something one of these days. I can feel it.
She says to herself as she finishes picking up her things. She rolls out a desk drawer and grabs a set of car keys. They jingle as she picks them up. A soft knock sounded off on the door behind her. She turned around to see it was Ms. Tates, a friend and fellow teacher.
“Oh hey Ms. Tates, how are you doing?”
“I’m good dear, just wanted you to know, James called and left you a message earlier. Said to be sure to grab a pack of ham when you go by the store.”
“Oh okay, thank you dear.”
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After having arrived at the local grocery store, Mrs. Randolph found herself over near the produce section looking through and turning over tomatoes. She eventually finds a few that suit her and as she is reaching to pull off a bag to put them in, she notices a familiar gentleman over near the cold goods.
He was an older man who had seen his fair share of a hard day’s work. He wore a ragged pair of overhauls that looked to of have accompanied him during most of those days. His worn out straw breamed hat gave it away.
Mr. Moreland?
As he reached in the fridge and pulled out a twelve-pack of beer, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for the old man. She could not imagine what he must be going through.
“Rebecca?” A whiny voice blurted out of nowhere.
It startled her so badly, she dropped the perfectly picked tomatoes to the floor. One of them splattered, as it couldn’t withstand the impact. She turned around to see it was a friend she hadn’t seen in over a year or so.
“Rebecca Randolph, that is you.” The woman said with a big grin.
Rebecca rose up after she picked the dropped tomatoes off the floor and turned to give one last look toward the fridge, but the man was gone.
“Hey Misty, how have you been? It seems like it’s been forever.” She said as they embraced in a hug.
“I know…it does. So how are you and James?”
“We’re good, James is still at the Paper Mill and I’m still teaching at the high school. How about you? How are things with you and Jack?”
“Things are good. We just bought a new house in Holden Beach. It is so beautiful up there. I love the peace and quiet it offers. We are planning to move in, in just a few weeks.”
“Well that’s good, I’m happy for you two. I will have to talk James in to visiting once you guys are moved in. Hey, not to change the subject, but did you happen to see the old man over there with the beer?”
“I saw him, but I didn’t think nothing of it. Why? Was he bothering you or something?” Misty was a stout girl and would have no problem giving the man something more to handle.
“Oh no-no. But….I…I think it was Old man Mooreland.”
“What? That was Mr. Mooreland?”
“I believe so. It looked like him, he had a pair of old worn out overhauls and the same straw hat that he likes to wear.”
“Oh my gosh, you’re right, that was him. Why is he buying a pack of beer though? He never drank.”
“Well, I guess he does now. And after what happened, I mean you can’t blame him.”
“Wow, that’s terrible. I wonder if he’s still a deacon at church?”
“I don’t know, he didn’t seem to try and hide it, so he might not even go to church anymore.”
“That’s so sad. I just can’t fathom how someone could do what that man did to that poor family. Mr. Mooreland is lucky to be alive.”
“I know, I believe if it hadn’t of been for him playing dead, his grandson would have killed him too.”
“Yeah, you’re probably right Rebecca. That man is lucky. I hope he’s all right though and not drinking himself to death.”
“Yeah, I hope so too, but he didn’t look so good. I know James was good friends with his nephew when he was younger. I might see if James could reach out to him and ask about his uncle.”
“That would be good. Well, it was nice talking to you. Come visit sometime, here is our new number, it should be working in a few weeks when we’re moved in.” Misty said as she gave her a hug.
“Okay we’ll do. Take care Misty, nice seeing you.” She said as they went their separate ways.
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It was just after four o’clock that evening and the Georgetown Paper Mill was looking a lot like Georgetown high school only moments ago. Inside, the men moved about like bees as they each grabbed their jackets and lunch boxes before they scurried out the doors. The parking lot was no less busy, engines were cranking and revving, ready to go. Mufflers grunting and puffing out smoky pollution behind numerous cars and trucks as they left.
The second round of workers were pulling in as the first was pulling out. Big rigs loaded down just about to their limits with supplies or shipments were passing each other near the loading docks. This was the busiest time of the day for the Mill. Things could be hectic and quite chaotic during this time.
“Man, J.R. really put it to Gary last night, didn’t he?” Said Jerry.
“Yeah, them Ewing brothers are always going at it on there.” James replied.
Following behind the two men was the newbie, Ethan Thompson.
“Say kid, you ever watched Dallas?” Asked Jerry as he turned and acknowledged Ethan’s presence. He just wagged his head and continued to follow the two out to the parking lot.
“Man, you don’t know what you’re missing. It’s a good show. Well…take care Jimmy, I’ll see you tomorrow. See ya kid.” Said Jerry as he wiggled his keys from his jeans and made his way over to his Camaro.
“All right man, see you tomorrow.”
Assuming the reason Ethan had followed the men out to the parking was to bum a ride, James asks, “Needing a ride?” as he unlocked his truck.
“Yeah, if it’s okay with you. I live about twenty minutes down the road. I’m working on my truck now, hoping to have it done in a few days.”
“Yeah, it’s no problem, I’ll give ya a lift. Hop on in.” James replied.
“Thank you.” Said Ethan as he walked around the front of the truck on over to the passenger side door. James unlocks the driver door, gets in and leaned over to unlock the passenger door. Moments later they were cruising down the road in a mostly quiet and awkward silence.
In effort to change the mood, James cleared his throat and asked a question. “So, you from the area? Or?”
Ethan nodded slightly and said, “Uh huh, born and raised.”
“I see. You have any siblings?”
“No, never had any brothers or sisters. Just me and my dad after mama died.”
“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. Are you close with your dad?”
“No, I haven’t seen him in about three years, he moved off after mama died. I stayed with my Aunt and Uncle until last year. I stay at the house my dad left behind. Now that I’m working, I’ll be able to get the power and water turned on.”
“Wait, you mean you been living there with no power and water?”
Ethan nodded. “There’s a creek in the back I make due with and I just bundle up in my sleeping bag at night. It’s quite comfortable actually.”
“Man…I hate you’re having to live like that. If you ever need somewhere to stay for the night, you’re welcome at my place.”
“Nah, it’s all right. I appreciate it though. I reckon I done got accustomed to being by myself. Like I said, now that I’m working, I will get everything turned back on.”
“All right, well the offer stands, so just remember that.”
“I will, thank you. You’re going to want to take a right at the next stop sign up there.” Ethan said as he pointed just up ahead.
After giving out a few directions, James and his red F-150 were pulling up to a small single-story home that sat at the corner of Morris and Becker street. The neighborhood seemed mostly quiet as most of the homes were vacant. In the front yards of those that weren’t, stood small signs staked in the ground that read “Bush & Quayle 88,” with a few reading, “Dukakis & Bentsen 88.”
Ethan open the door of the truck and stepped out onto the driveway. “Thanks for the ride James. Like I said, I’m working on that truck over there, so as soon as I get it running, I’ll be good.” He said as he pointed towards a baby blue 1980 Chevy Suburban k20 with a hard-shell camper attached to the back.
“That’s nice.” Added James.
“Yeah my mom left it to me. It was hers when she was around. Hoping I can get it running, just have to change out the fuel pump and a few other small things and it should be good.”
“The box truck yours too?” James asked as he noticed it behind the Chevy.
“Yeah, my uncle gave it to me. Thought I could live in it if I had to. Maybe one day I’ll convert it into a RV or something.”
“I hear ya. Well, I guess I better get going, my wife’s probably got supper waiting on me. You done good today at the mill, keep up the hard work and remember what Jerry said. If you need help with your truck, let me know.”
“Thank you, I will.”
“Do you have a ride for the morning?”
“Yeah, Walter said he could take me. He has to pick his kids up from school after work, so he can’t bring me home, but he can give me a ride in the mornings.”
“Okay, well I mean I can take you home, it’s no big deal.”
“Okay, thank you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You got it big guy, see you tomorrow.” James moved the gear stick to drive and off he went.
He could already smell Rebecca’s cooking.
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The sound of sizzling oil could be heard throughout the home as well the smell that followed closely behind. Rebecca was busy making Cajun shrimp boudin one minute and working on a fresh pot of gumbo the next. The Cajun spices filled the room.
After she achieved a break from the boudin and gumbo, she went on to slice a nicely picked tomato she had bought from the store. And no it wasn’t the one that she dropped. This was a good one, firm with a little squish and full of juice. With the tomato in her left hand and a knife in her right, the front door carefully opened.
Peanut, the couples eight-month-old Yorkshire Terrier, bolted towards the door in full attack mode, barking and growling, before stopping on the other side of the couch for cover. At the other end of the door was James Randolph.
“Hey boy, you were going to eat me up, weren’t you?” He says after shutting the door and bending down to the young black ferocious fur ball of a pup.
“See, I’m not so bad.” He says as Peanut relaxes and lets down his guard.
“Hey honey.” A voice comes from the kitchen.
“Hey babe. What you cooking in there? That smells a little Cajun. Am I right?” James said with a playful southern twang at the end.
“Yep, cutting some of deem fresh maters now.” Rebecca replied with matching southern charm.
James stepped into the kitchen, wrapped his arms around his wife and gave her a kiss.
“Missed you babe. How was your day?”
“It was good. Classes went well. Introduced Inertia a little bit today.”
“Oh gosh, all that energy in motion and Newton’s law kind of stuff?”
“Yeah, that kind of stuff. Remember Rachel Fuller, the smart blonde girl I was telling you about?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“Well, she already knew the subject. Said she reads ahead, so when she comes to class, she can better understand what I’m teaching.”
“Really? Dang, that’s some determination there.”
“That’s what I said. I told her she keeps putting in all that hard work, its going pay off one of these days. I can tell, she’s cut from a different cloth than the rest. Oh, and guess who I saw at the supermarket today.”
“Uh, let me guess…your brother?”
“No, he’s still in Mexico with that girl, last I checked. Guess again.”
“Uh…Misty and Jack?”
“Dang, that’s pretty good. I did see Misty, right after I was trying to spy on old man Mooreland.” She said with a tilt of the head.
“Hmm?”
“Yeah and guess what he was buying?” She waited just a moment.
“A twelve pack of beer.”
“What?” James asked with a chuckle.
“Yeah, he didn’t look very good. I was picking through the tomatoes when I saw him over in the beer fridge grabbing a twelve pack. Then Misty scared the bejesus out of me when she almost screamed with that little whiny voice of hers, ‘Rebecca? That is you.’ I jumped and dropped my tomatoes to the floor, the dang things splattered right there at my feet. It was good seeing her though. Said her and Jack just got a place at Holden Beach.”
James couldn’t help but get tickled at his wife’s expressions as she told her story. That was one thing he always marveled about her, her sense of humor. Along with her beauty and slender frame of course.
“Really? Good for them. They deserve it. I hate that about Mr. Mooreland though. That’s sad. He’s probably drinking himself away.”
“I know, that’s what I’m afraid of. Do you still have Everett’s number?”
“I might…I don’t know, I will check though. If I can find it, I’ll give him a call.”
“Yeah, I would just be curious how they’re holding up. So how did your day go?”
“It went good. We had a few new guys we had to show the ropes. Me and Jerry took a guy, while Hank and Billy took another. Then I think Bob and Danny each had a guy.”
“Really? You think they can help get the new order out in time?”
“No…I don’t know what Dale and Kurt are thinking. They should’ve got help weeks ago, instead of waiting until two days before it supposed to be done. They’re crazy if they think we can do all of that.”
“Yeah, well just keep being the good worker that you are, somebody will see it. How was the new guy?” She asked as she turned her attention to the fridge in search of some onions.
James sat down at the table as he began.
“He was good. He’s a little different, but he done good. I had to give him a ride home. He’s working on getting his truck up and running. He’s staying in a house over near the Jamestown neighborhood off Morris and Becker. The place doesn’t have any power or water, the poor kid has to use a sleeping bag at night to stay warm.”
“Oh my goodness, that’s horrible. Did you offer him our spare room?”
“Yeah, I told him he was welcome to stay with us until he got the power and everything on, but he said he was good. He’s been like that for a few years now, the way I understood him. His mom died, and his dad left him to live with his Aunt and Uncle for a little bit. Then I guess they must’ve made him move on. Its sad. But like I said, he done good today, he’s just a little strange, but I mean I guess you can kind of understand why.”
“Yeah, that’s horrible. How old is he?”
“He said he was nineteen. Old enough to take care of himself I guess.”
“Yeah, but if he’s a little slow, he’s probably got the mind of a child.”
“Nah…he’s not that slow…he’s just…weird…you know?”
“Yeah. Well, just keep a watch on him and make sure he knows he’s welcome here if he needs a place to stay.”
“Yeah, I’ll keep an eye on him. How about we dig into some boudin and gumbo, they’re just about to drive me crazy. You know how much I love your Cajun cooking.”
“I thought I was the only one that drove you crazy?”
“Yeah, you’re the only woman that drives me crazy, but your gumbo and boudin…now that’s a different story.” He said with a crooked smile.
“Oh hush it. You know you love me.”
“You got that right. You’re my girl, Becky.” James said as he squeezed her tight and kissed her cheek. Meanwhile, a fresh platter of Cajun cuisine sat on the table waiting to be devoured.
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In a dismal hallway, a man suffered in an inner conflict. It was just after two in the morning and the man had been tormented since sundown. He paced the halls of the old darkened home as a spirit whispered in a raspy voice that seemed to echo off every wall at once.
The man had dealt with this demon since his youth and this had become his nightly routine. Ringing in one hand was a bell. This was one way the man could help deal with his tormentor as he tried his best to block out the voices that seemed to scratch and crawl inside his head.
“Leave me alone Kirkland! You’re not real! You’re not real!” The man screamed.
“Oh, but I am. I’m very real indeed. To you foolish humans demise, you claim we don’t exist, but oh…how we do. We are more powerful and evil than you could ever imagine, for we are many. And you will never overcome us. Why fight, when you know deep down, you’ll never win? Come join our ranks and work for us, rather than putting up such a vain fight. You will find relief when you join, for we have a new assignment for you.” Said the demon as he poked at the man’s emotions like a cat with a fresh kill.
“No-no-no! I’m not falling for it again. You’re lying. Shut up! You’re not real…you’re not real!” The man said as he tore his shirt in two.
He rattled his bell with one hand and scratched and clawed on the wall with the other. Old wall paper fell to the floor like fresh snow.
“Fine. Have it your way, but don’t expect this to get any easier. If you turn this offer down, things will only get worse. If you think this is bad, just wait for what’s to come.” The demon said with a sinister smirk.
“Wait…wait. What new assignment are you talking about?”
“Oh…you’re wiser than I thought. Well…let’s just say it involves a little creativity followed by a…lack of sympathy. Hmm?” The demon chuckled at the thought.
The man negotiated with the spirit for another half hour, before finally collapsing to the floor in exhaustion, just as he had done numerous nights in the past.