The Thirteen

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 8 (v.1) - Eight

Submitted: July 09, 2008

Reads: 109

Comments: 3

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Submitted: July 09, 2008

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Eight

Out in the edges of Durham, on one of the concrete grey lines of shops, night had fallen, but light shone from the window of Tony's Kebab Shop and out onto the streets where it made hundreds and thousands of beads of rain reflect back at Tony himself, who was leaning on the counter. Bored. The pitter and patter of rain was interrupted by the sudden swinging of the door, the tinkle of the bell and the swooping of the stranger as he swished his long trench coat into the shop. He looked odd. Bald with a beard and a grey trench coat. But also frantic. Scared. Crazed.

"I'll have a..." started the man. But he stopped and glared intently at Tony, who scratched his leg patiently and rubbed the grease onto his already mucky white t-shirt.

"Wha'dya want, lad?"

The strange man was looking specifically into his eyes. Following them around as he darted up and down his customer. He looked puzzled. And there it was again. Scared. Frantic. Crazed.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I can't help you. Not now. Be wary. Fight if you can. Fight. I'm sorry."

Tony blinked and he was gone.

He looked around and wondered what had just happened. Confused, he finally decided on making some coffee, but when he got to the coffee filter he found the coffee was thick and brown. Far too brown. And looking closer... what was that? Eyes? Fish? It was like muddied river water. Tony stepped back in shock and felt his sandals spalsh into something else. He looked down. A red stain was seeping up from the clinically white tiles. It was blood. Blood was rising from the floor and swamping the store. Tony panicked and started breathing hard. What was happening? The blood was ankle deep but he couldn't move. Fear had rooted him to the spot. And the the kebab meat that was turning so peacefully started to twirl and twirl and twirl. And the flesh of the meat started crying and wailing and making terrible and ear splitting noises like cows in deep distress. It was as if the meat was coming back to life again.

And Tony couldn't speak. Dumb but not deaf he saw and heard everything. The sprinklers started to come on and the blood was rising but the sprinklers were showing hot oil and this time it forced him to scream as boiling hot oil washed over him and mixed with the blood at his knees. And in amongst all of this there was a girl with jet black hair, looking quite calm with a sad look on her face, saying nothing, walking through this horrific scene. She looked pale and dead. As if she had drowned. And suddenly she had a sword. Tony started shaking violently but could do nothing. In his last breaths he heard the words;

"Eight!"


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