Tuesday, October 30, 2018

Story 261: Chillingly Commonplace Horror Theatre Presents: Terror at a Microscopic Level!



Warning: The following story is not for the faint of stomach!

            Narrator: She thought Evil could not harm her….
            [Shots of haunted woods and disturbed crypts]
            Narrator: She thought she was safe from all nightmares….
            [Shots of bloody fangs and decaying mansions, backed by the sound of a howling werewolf]
            Narrator: SHE – WAS – willfully uninformed.
            [On a creepily sunny day, Oblivia is jogging in the park when she trips over a random rock, falls, and cuts her hand]
           Oblivia: Ow!  Oh well.  (Sucks the wound and jogs right past the conveniently placed running-water bathroom)
          Shadowy Figure: (Peeking around a tree to watch her progress) Heh-heh, what a perfect victim.
            Narrator: She never imagined that danger lurks around every corner….
            [In an office, Oblivia is on the telephone while juggling papers]
           Oblivia: No, I said it was Thursday; why would I have said it was Wednesday when it was Thursday?  (Wipes runny nose with her hand, sniffling loudly) No, I don’t have a cold, and that wouldn’t make me think one day of the week and say another!  (Sniffles louder and wipes her nose again) That doesn’t change the fact that it was still Wednesday!  I mean Thursday, argh!
            Co-Worker: (Holding out a tissue and a bottle of hand sanitizer to her) Please take these, I’m begging you.
            Oblivia: Oh I’m good, thanks.  (Wipes nose yet again and returns to the call) Maybe you need a sick day for your confusion!
            Shadowy Figure: (Leaning out from behind a tall office plant) This is too good.
            Narrator: Nowhere is safe, not even her own home….
            [In her apartment, Oblivia’s friend is reading a magazine in the kitchen.  From the bathroom, the sound of a toilet flush is heard; Oblivia immediately exits and heads to the kitchen to make a sandwich]
            Friend: (Staring at her) Uhhhhh… did you wash your hands?
            Oblivia: What for?  (Assembles the sandwich)
            Friend “What for?”  You were just in the bathroom!
            Oblivia: What’s your point?  (Licks butter off fingers)
         Friend: Ugh!  Ah!  Ugh!  Ugh!  Ugh!  (Flings away the magazine and runs out of the apartment, screaming all the way out of the building)
            Oblivia: Weirdo.  (Eats sandwich)
            [Horror music plays as Shadowy Figure emerges from the darkened hallway]
            Shadowy Figure: Hello there.
          Oblivia: (Mouth full of sandwich) How’d you get in here?  Front door’s that way.  (Horror music cuts off as she points behind her shoulder)
            Shadowy Figure: What?  No, let me start over: (Horror music resumes) I’ve been with you for ages now, following your every move, and it’s about time I introduced myself.  (Hovers menacingly over her)
            Oblivia: I should say so – stalking someone without at least letting them know about it is just plain rude.
           Shadowy Figure: Well, get used to me being here: since I’m your new best friend, you can call me “Sep.”
            Oblivia: “Sept?”  As in “seven?”
            Shadowy Figure: No, “Sep”-puh, it’s – forget it, I’m Sepsis.
            Oblivia: What the blazes does that even mean?
           Shadowy Figure: I am the culmination of basically all the infections, the end result of their mass accumulation inside you.  (Pokes her shoulder, making her drop some potato chips onto the floor)
          Oblivia: Whatever dude, I’m having lunch right now so you can go accumulate inside someone else until I’m done.  (Picks up the chips and eats them)
            Shadowy Figure: Now that’s just – see what you did right there?
            Oblivia: (Mouth full of chips) What, eat?
           Shadowy Figure: Eat food that had fallen on the filthy floor!  Not to mention all those times you didn’t disinfect the scores of cuts, scrapes, and other breaches of your primary defense system!  And don’t get me started on the non-handwashing!
            Oblivia: Again with the handwashing: you people obsess over that way too much and should mind your own business.  (Brushes crumbs onto the floor and licks fingers)
            Shadowy Figure: You fool, don’t you realize that with your every action YOU INVITED US IN??!!
            Oblivia: Who’s “us?”
         (Shadowy Figure points to the living room where a whole host of Shadowy Figures are lounging around)
            Shadowy Figures: Whaaaa s’up!
            Oblivia: Now how did you guys get in here?  Never mind, just get out now; I want to take a nap.
            Shadowy Figure: Oh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you.  (Horror music plays louder)
            Oblivia: Well you’re not, so I’m going to nap as much as I darn well please; all y’all can lock the door on your way out, m’kay?  (Coughs a lot into her hand, then opens the door for them to leave)
            Shadowy Figure: (Points to her hand) You see!  It’s stuff like that that’s brought on your own DOOM!
            Oblivia: I don’t know what you’re talking about, I don’t feel particularly doomed.  (Begins shivering)
            Shadowy Figure: (Pulls two other Shadowy Figures out from the crowd) You’ve got influenza –
            Influenza: Hi!  (Is pushed aside)
            Shadowy Figure: – and pneumonia –
            Pneumonia: Yo.  (Is pushed aside)
          Shadowy Figure:  – along with all of them – (Waves at the rest, who wave back) – which weakened you completely, so now, you have ME.  (Lightning flashes and thunder crashes, but there is no rain)
            Oblivia: (Starting to teeter) You, being Sepsis?
           Sepsis: The one and only.  End of the line for you, MWAHAHAHA!  Unless you call 9-1-1 right now.
            Shadowy Figures: Booooo, hissssss!!
            Oblivia: (Pulls phone out of her pocket as she sinks to the floor) But… I never even heard of you…
            Shadowy Figure: Never even – ?!  I kill at least 270,000 people a year!
            Oblivia: Really?
            Shadowy Figure: Yeah.  It’s very serious and sad.  (They stare at the floor for a moment) Still want to be next?
            Oblivia: Ahhhh!!!  (Dials 9-1-1)
            [Cut to Oblivia being wheeled out of a hospital]
            Nurse: You have your discharge instructions?
            Oblivia: Oh yes, and lots of these.  (Holds up a bag of hand sanitizers)
            Nurse: Good.  Be well!
           [Oblivia is driven home by a relative and returns to her apartment bedroom.  As she lies down, ominous music begins to play; she opens her eyes to see Shadowy Figure standing there at the foot of the bed]
            Oblivia: Now what?
           Shadowy Figure: I know you defeated me eventually and all that, but I just wanted to let you know that I’m always here if you find yourself slipping up on the hygiene bit again and – (Is cut off by Oblivia throwing a pillow at it)
           Narrator: Be sure to tune in next time for Chillingly Commonplace Horror Theatre Presents: Jaywalking With Danger.  Until then, pleasant dreams.

Thursday, October 25, 2018

Story 260: There Are Ghosts Everywhere


            (At the Hall of the Prisoners in the Galleria dell’Accademia di Firenze, Italy)
            Servant Ghost 1: Morning.
            Servant Ghost 2: It unfortunately is.  What’s on the cleaning schedule for today?
          Servant Ghost 1: Same as always: busts, impractically large canvases, furniture that’s no longer here, the works.  You can take floors, if you like.
         Servant Ghost 2: (Conjures up a bucket and mop) Thanks.  I’m really tired of doing busts century after century – they only talk about one thing.
           Servant Ghost 1: You mean the mastodon in the room?  (Gestures to the other end of the Hall at Michelangelo’s David in all his glory)
            Servant Ghost 2: None other.  You ever hear them all go on and on about him?
           Servant Ghost 1: Nah, I started tuning them about 200 years ago; it was the only way I could get any work done. (Starts ghost-dusting unseen tables)
          Servant Ghost 2: (Ghost-mops the Hall) Wish I could do that.  All day every day, it’s them going: “Boatloads of cultural masterpieces here, and 99% of the thousands of warm bodies who come in every day just want to see David,” “What’s so great about David?”, “I like the copy by the Uffizi better,” “I hate David,” “Who is David?”, “Shut up, David,” “Could someone please vandalize David?!”, “What is wrong with you, leave David alone!”, “What, now you’re a David-lover, too?!”, “Why does no one ever come to see me?!”, “`Cause you’re a boring old bust and nobody likes you!”, “I can’t even – ”
            Servant Ghost 1: I get it.  (Passes through a tour group milling around unfinished sculptures and hovers in front of David) I haven’t really looked in decades, but the detail is meticulous, I must say.
            David: Why, thank you.
            Servant Ghost 2: Don’t encourage him – you’ll only set off the rest of them again!
            Bust: (From an adjacent room) There goes another David fan!  Traitor!
            Servant Ghost 1: (Shouts to that room) I think I’ll skip your dusting today!
            Bust: (Whimpers) Never mind.
        Servant Ghost 2: Whelp, I’m moving on upstairs.  At least those pieces know they’re appreciated by the visitors who actually bother to go up there.
            Servant Ghost 1: Have fun.  I think I’ll dust You-Know-Who; I haven’t in ages.
Servant Ghost 2: If you must, just don’t be pervy about it.
            David: Oh, my.
            Servant Ghost 1: I am completely professional in my work!  And since we’ve been stuck here for eternity, this does absolutely nothing for me anymore.
            David: Admire my lifelike veins, then; I won’t mind.
           Servant Ghost 1: (Peering closely at an arm) How on Earth did that guy ever manage to do that in marble?!
            David: Oh, you know, only pure genius is all.
            Busts: (Collectively moan) Great, now he’ll really be unbearable!