Post by "Black Label" Sean Patterson on Nov 21, 2004 18:55:00 GMT 1
Here's a short story I wrote last month. It got the second highest mark in my English class, and won Short Story of the Month on Lilith's Lair Dark Literature board.
Enjoy ....
Teddy sat slumped, his head barely poking out of the crate under Stephen’s bed that had been his home since he could remember. But that was just a phrase to Teddy, because Teddy did remember. Teddy remembered all too well …<br> The truth was that Teddy used to sit on the high bed that had now become his sky, and his dusty dwellings that he ironically remembered referring to as ‘Hell’ had turned out to be just that. Now in that box, a concentration camp for twisted, broken and forgotten toys, he watched the big world that was Stephen’s room become clogged with his replacements - the skateboard, the music system and, of course, Angela … the little harlot.
Teddy hated Angela more than any other of Stephen’s current or forgotten possessions. She was now his object of affection. She got all the kisses and cuddles, all the things that were rightfully Teddy’s. He’d kept his thread-bare, beady eyes on everything that went in and out of that world, but none returned as often as she did. There had been many before her - Kirstie, Gemma, Lisa - but just like Teddy, they had been cast aside. But Teddy still felt no sympathy for them. Just like he felt no sympathy for his cell-mates Action Man or Doctor X, as their petty squabbling had become repetitive and made Teddy wish his head would explode. They had all taken his place and hated them all evenly. But there was something about Angela he detested above them all. And finally, after years of neglect, he was going to do something about it. He was going to wait until tomorrow night when she came around again and wait until Stephen left the room, as he always did at some point, and then he was going to turn her pretty little face into a jigsaw puzzle and play marbles with her shiny blue eyes. And it would be sweet. He went to sleep, as tomorrow would be very strenuous on Teddy as he had a very long journey …<br> The mission was clear. Teddy climbed down the stairs and luckily succeeded to avoid Rex, that foul creature who buried him in the back garden once. Then he discretely as possible made his way to the kitchen and climbed up on the drawers and on to the counter. There he acquired his weapon of choice - the meat cleaver. He struggled at first as the sheer weight of it nearly made his woolen muscles buckle. But he steadied himself and crawled back up the stairs with plenty of time to arrange himself appropriately …<br> As planned, Stephen arrived home from college at 6pm as if it by clockwork, and as always, Angela was in tow. Teddy heard Stephen’s mother call to him ;
“Ya dinnah’s on t’ table, Loov. Let Angie get comfortable oop stairs, liyek.”<br> So perfect it was not to be believed.
He rose from the bookshelf next to the door and the bed eagerly, almost losing balance and falling. But he regained composure and lifted the meat cleaver. Angela entered the room, removing her coat and unraveling her scarf. The cold October night had brought out some colour in her otherwise pale flesh, her nose and cheeks a fire truck red. But all Teddy saw was blood. She walked in his direction and he felt a rush like never before. He waited until she was merely a breath away from him before he introduced the sharp metal to her neck.
Teddy saw it, and it was good.
He jumped down from the bookshelf, falling into the puddle of the precious red life fluid that was oozing from the space on Angela shoulder her air-filled head had once occupied. He didn’t care. All he knew was that Stephen wouldn’t be long and he must hurry. He struggled to lug the head, which appeared heavier than he had given her credit for originally, but it would be worth it. He heard footsteps on the stairs. Only a few seconds and his masterpiece would be unveiled. Teddy smiled on the inside.
Teddy positioned himself. Holding the head between his legs and facing the door he propped himself up with the bed leg, Angela’s body strewn out bloody and decapitated over the crimson carpet. The doorknob twisted and the door opened. Stephen stepped into Teddy’s world once again. He saw the body of his beloved Angela and once-forgotten Teddy, holding her head. But he did not scream. Nor did he make any signals that showed shock or horror. He simply shrugged and reached under the bed for the box. He grabbed Teddy in one hand, Angela’s head in the other and placed them both inside, sliding it back under. Teddy’s plan had failed.
Teddy cursed and blinded to himself inside the box. He sat in a strop as Stephen took Angela’s body and placed it upon his bed ….
Enjoy ....
Teddy sat slumped, his head barely poking out of the crate under Stephen’s bed that had been his home since he could remember. But that was just a phrase to Teddy, because Teddy did remember. Teddy remembered all too well …<br> The truth was that Teddy used to sit on the high bed that had now become his sky, and his dusty dwellings that he ironically remembered referring to as ‘Hell’ had turned out to be just that. Now in that box, a concentration camp for twisted, broken and forgotten toys, he watched the big world that was Stephen’s room become clogged with his replacements - the skateboard, the music system and, of course, Angela … the little harlot.
Teddy hated Angela more than any other of Stephen’s current or forgotten possessions. She was now his object of affection. She got all the kisses and cuddles, all the things that were rightfully Teddy’s. He’d kept his thread-bare, beady eyes on everything that went in and out of that world, but none returned as often as she did. There had been many before her - Kirstie, Gemma, Lisa - but just like Teddy, they had been cast aside. But Teddy still felt no sympathy for them. Just like he felt no sympathy for his cell-mates Action Man or Doctor X, as their petty squabbling had become repetitive and made Teddy wish his head would explode. They had all taken his place and hated them all evenly. But there was something about Angela he detested above them all. And finally, after years of neglect, he was going to do something about it. He was going to wait until tomorrow night when she came around again and wait until Stephen left the room, as he always did at some point, and then he was going to turn her pretty little face into a jigsaw puzzle and play marbles with her shiny blue eyes. And it would be sweet. He went to sleep, as tomorrow would be very strenuous on Teddy as he had a very long journey …<br> The mission was clear. Teddy climbed down the stairs and luckily succeeded to avoid Rex, that foul creature who buried him in the back garden once. Then he discretely as possible made his way to the kitchen and climbed up on the drawers and on to the counter. There he acquired his weapon of choice - the meat cleaver. He struggled at first as the sheer weight of it nearly made his woolen muscles buckle. But he steadied himself and crawled back up the stairs with plenty of time to arrange himself appropriately …<br> As planned, Stephen arrived home from college at 6pm as if it by clockwork, and as always, Angela was in tow. Teddy heard Stephen’s mother call to him ;
“Ya dinnah’s on t’ table, Loov. Let Angie get comfortable oop stairs, liyek.”<br> So perfect it was not to be believed.
He rose from the bookshelf next to the door and the bed eagerly, almost losing balance and falling. But he regained composure and lifted the meat cleaver. Angela entered the room, removing her coat and unraveling her scarf. The cold October night had brought out some colour in her otherwise pale flesh, her nose and cheeks a fire truck red. But all Teddy saw was blood. She walked in his direction and he felt a rush like never before. He waited until she was merely a breath away from him before he introduced the sharp metal to her neck.
Teddy saw it, and it was good.
He jumped down from the bookshelf, falling into the puddle of the precious red life fluid that was oozing from the space on Angela shoulder her air-filled head had once occupied. He didn’t care. All he knew was that Stephen wouldn’t be long and he must hurry. He struggled to lug the head, which appeared heavier than he had given her credit for originally, but it would be worth it. He heard footsteps on the stairs. Only a few seconds and his masterpiece would be unveiled. Teddy smiled on the inside.
Teddy positioned himself. Holding the head between his legs and facing the door he propped himself up with the bed leg, Angela’s body strewn out bloody and decapitated over the crimson carpet. The doorknob twisted and the door opened. Stephen stepped into Teddy’s world once again. He saw the body of his beloved Angela and once-forgotten Teddy, holding her head. But he did not scream. Nor did he make any signals that showed shock or horror. He simply shrugged and reached under the bed for the box. He grabbed Teddy in one hand, Angela’s head in the other and placed them both inside, sliding it back under. Teddy’s plan had failed.
Teddy cursed and blinded to himself inside the box. He sat in a strop as Stephen took Angela’s body and placed it upon his bed ….
