SEAHORN EPUBLISHING HALLOWEEN EDITION
2014
All rights reserved by owner of the content in which this free ebook is based. Under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication will be produced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the owners of the content in which this free ebook is based. All short stories written by Phil Seahorn SeahornEpublishing www.facebook.com/seahornepublishing Second Edition: October 2014 1.Eook 2.Halloween 3.Anthology 4. Short Story SeahornEpublishing is a Facebook based epublishing service which produces for the Internet written, audio, and video content, to be sold to Internet outlets as content. The publisher is not responsible for content of this ebook appearing on the Internet other than as content for SeahornEpublishing, located on Facebook. (www.facebook.com) ISBN LCCN 10
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seahorn Epublishing Halloween Edition 2014
Contents 4. Heads Up 9. The Forager 14. The Marmot
4. Heads Up Ignatius Fernis had just gotten off the number 25 bus at the Plaza in downtown Spokane. He had just finished his last class at Gonzanga University and wanted to head over to the Spokane Riverfront Park to take some more photographs of the park and the waterfalls. Ignatius had just stepped off the corner of Riverfront Street and Howard when two things happened: a passing truck lost a tire, and he died. Ignatius had stepped off the corner when a block down form the corner a tire had suddenly burst on the truck. This cause the truck to turn sideways and flip repeatedly, taking it further and faster up the street toward Ignatius. Ignatius was too busy with his new IPhone to notice te increasing crashing and screaming of people. He had just enough time to look up as the truck flipped just high enough over his head to take it completely off. Ignatius head came off with a cracking pop noise as the contents of the truck spilled over his head and his headless body as it was thrown a half blockthe impact of thetruck. The contents of the truck splashed all over the place; a foul smelling bluish green glowing liquid. Which made sense since the only sign on the side of the ruck where 4 foot huge letters: BOITOXINS�. Ignatius woke up. He was really surprised that happened since he clearly remembered seeing a truck flipping over and coming directly at him. He knew he had been hit by the truck by the searing pain and sudden bright light. Then complete darkness. Ignatius looked around him. Or rather tried to move his head. He had to be on the ground, as he was inches above the ground. But logistics and symmetry quickly kicked in informing Ignatius of one problem: it appeared that
5. he was only inches from the ground. In fact, it seemed that the only thing Ignatius could feel was his face. Apparently, Ignatius was nothing more than a head without a body. CHAPTER TWO Ignatius could only look around.He was that he was on a roof.How the fuck did he (or his head) get on top of a roof.Then Ignatius noticed something gooey and foul smelling oozing down the side of his face. He looked around him and noticed the glowing green blue liquid. It smelled horrible. Then Ignatius said out loud: how the fuck can I even smell?” “Wait a minute.” Ignatius said. “How can I even talk?”Then he felt a sharp pain. CHAPTER THREE The paramedics had found the body a block away from the impact site of the accident.From eyewitness accounts and people’s cell phones that they asked to look at who recorded the accident, the guy never even say it coming. The truck had taken off the guy’s head, and had hit the body so hard that the head went flying one way and the body another. The paramedics located the body. It was the body of a young person of color (without the head, they could not tell exactly what ethnicity) with a blood covered “Gonzanga” t shirt and jeans. But the body was also covered with foul smelling shit the paramedics knew they should not get near. When the guys in the bio toxin suits showed up, they quickly loaded the body in a body bag, and simply drove off. Theparamedics noticed that the ambulance that the guys in the suits showed up in had absolutely no insignia of any kind on it.
6. CHAPTER FOUR Doctor Kansas looked at the headless body on the table in the lab at the Gonzanga research facility. “One of our own?” asked the doctor to his assistance, a young lady in a white lab coat form Sri Lanka.The lab assistant looked at the body. “Yes”, she said. “Targeted and according to plans”. She and the doctor looked down at the headless body.it was still breathing.” Everything is going as planned,” said the doctor. CHAPTER FIVE Ignatius looked around some more. He was wondering why he wasn’t panicking. But he had always been a rational person.He was fucking dead and bodiless, what else could go wrong? Ignatius said out loud. That’s when the crow showed up. The crow looked down at Ignatius. Or rather his head. The crow had landed in one of the puddles of the glowing bluish green stinking shit that was on top of the roof with Ignatius. The crow cawed one time, then made as if it was going to peck out one of Ignatiuseyes. Ignatius was about to scream at the top of his lungs (the irony of the thought did not escape him) when the crow stiffened, its wings extended fully, and keeled over. The liquid oozed all over the crow, then dissolved into an evenfouler smelling gas. “Yep,” Ignatius sad to none in particular.”I’m fucked”. CHAPTER SIX Ignatius did not think of anything other than to close his eyes. Hetook comfort that nothing could really get to him, or rather, his head because of the stinky blue glowing shit that was
7. around him.Ignatius had actually went to sleep when he felt his long bushy black hair being pulled from atop his head. It actually hurt. It hurt a lot. “Hey motherfucker, put me, put my fucking head down!” he screamed. Ignatius just had time to get a glimpse of a hand in a hazmat glove and another gloved hand with black bag coming directly at his face. Then he went to sleep again. CHAPTER SEVEN Ignatius woke up and looked around him. He, or his head, was sitting directly in themiddle of a steel table.He looked around and saw that he was in some kind of lab.He saw the Gonzanga school image on some of the equipment and furniture. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he said.He turned his eyes as far right as he could.He saw a middle aged guy, long grey hair in a ponytail, with a grey beard, with black horn rimmed glasses.”The mad scientist, I presume,” said Ignatius. This shit is straight out of a comic book”. The ponytailed man in the soiled lab coat came over thetable, with Ignatius looking up and the man looking down at him. Ignatius was able to see the other table next to t the one his head wason. There was his body. “Okay you crazy son of a bitch, put me back together again!” Ignatius said. Ignatius looked over at his body again, when a young lady in a lab coat came over to it, poking his body in the chest with her finger.Hard. “Ow”, said Ignatius.” I felt that?” Ignatius said incredulously. “Oh, you two are some sick motherfuckers. Put my head back on! Stop this crazy Frankenstein shit and put me back together now!” Ignatius yelled.
8. The old doctor looked down at Ignatius. He then turned around, grabbed something, and turned back to Ignatius. It was a gasmask. “As you wish”, said the doctor. CHAPTER EIGHT Ignatius sprang bolt upright in his bed in his dorm, drenched in sweat and screaming. His two roommates had almost burst down the door from the living room, trailing ganja smoke behind them.”What the fuck, man?” one of his roommatessaid. They both looked at Ignatius as he sat upright in his bed.He looked back at them.”It was a ….dream.Some kind of nightmare, “said Ignatius.He smelled the”J’s Berry” coming in from the living room.”Ah, legal weed in Spokane”, Ignatius mumbled.That made him feel a little better. His roommates closed his door to his dorm room. He got up and went into the bathroom. His throat felt like shit, like he was coming down with a real bad cold or something. He reached over to the sink for the Listerine as he finished up at the toilet. He put the bottle to his mouth .The instant he took the Listerine into his mouth, his mouth and throat burned like fire. He spit it out, grabbing toward the intense pain in his neck. He ran over thebathroom mirror over the sink feeling what he thought was completely impossible around his neck. He saw the bloody stitches in his neck.Despite the pain, he screamed again. Louder. THE END
9. The Forager Arriving at the Spokane International Airport an hour before his luggage did, Ulysses Agatha walked away from the Delta luggage check in station, pausing before he stepped out into the late morning air of a city that was 1200 miles from the home in which he was born. This had been the farthest away from Missouri that Ulysses had ever been. He had thought long and hard about even boarding the plane back in St. Louis International Airport at Lambert Field. He had even experienced a panic attack, getting nauseous as he waited at the Delta check in. Ulysses had not known the sight of another city, or the sights and sounds of mountains and waterfalls. That was the kind of shit that Ignatius had researched about the state of Washington. Ulysses wanted that: he wanted to see mountains and waterfalls and smell the air of a city so close to the ocean. That, unfortunately, was not the case. As Ulysses researched living in the state of Washington he found out interesting shit: that to work for Amazon and Apple, you had to be a Washington state residence.. It was then a three issue situation in moving from St. Louis to Washington State: he was an 18 year Internet content provider and epublisher, and had been writing for three years FOR Amazon Kindle. He had gotten his Bachelor’s Degree, his second degree in almost thirty years. He had health problems, being born a man of color in the U.S. and the inherited “black man’s” diseases: diabetes and high blood pressure. But he also had severe sinusitis. The last two seasons of
10. weather in St. Louis had recorded as the worst two seasons of allergy conditions ever RECORDED in St. Louis. He wound up in the hospital TWICE. It almost killed him. He had to go. And he wanted to see the fucking ocean and mountains and live on the west coast for the rest of his life. So, here was Ignatius’ chance to live on the West Coast of the U.S. This shit was real. Ulysses felt that shit hit him like a physical punch. He stopped and stood in front of the exit. Once he took that step out onto the streets of Spokane Washington, 1200 miles from his home of St. Louis, Missouri, the city in which he had been born. It was his home that he had infrequently left by going over to the state of Illinois on the other side of the Mississippi River. Ulysses knew. He wasn’t going to be home ever again in St. Louis. Nor did he want to. Spokane was his new home, his new chapter in his life. Ignatius knew his life would never, ever be the same. CHAPTER TWO Ulysses spent four months, from December to June, researching which city to live in Washington State. He had logged over 43 hours online, researching Washington State and its cities. Seattle was the first choice: the mecca of ultra liberalism and interracial dating. Ignatius was West Indian, Cherokee Indian, and Scottish, with his father being bi-racial West Indian and his mother being Black and Cherokee. He had white folks in his family and black folks, but that shit never really flew in St. Louis. Ulysses wanted a family of people and a circle of friends which reflected who he was as a person and an American: a melting pot. And after four decades of St. Louis racial bullshit and racial politics, he had enough. Ulysses loved his city of St. Louis, Mo.
11. He just didn’t like her anymore. According to his research on Seattle, Washington, that city was the place for him to live. Unfortunately, Seattle apartment prices were like the Central West end in St. Louis. So, Seattle was out. Then, he researched Tacoma, the second largest city in Washington State. The thing about the “Tacoma Aroma” shit he found out about online and his sinusitis just didn’t fly. Then, he found out about the city of Spokane. Spokane was in fact in the middle of the State of Washington, but right along states like Idaho. He saw how affordable it was to live in Spokane. But it was the pictures and videos of Spokane and Spokane Valley that captivated him. In order to get customer support gigs with Apple and Amazon, you had to be a Washingtonian. Ignatius intended to start an at home customer support gig with one of those, and pursue his graduate degree at the University of Washington State. ( the irony of him getting his Bachelor’s from Washington University in St. Louis did not escape him one fucking bit.)
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CHAPTER THREE Ulysses honestly felt that it was God’s hand that led him to Washington state. So, being no fool by any means, he stepped onto the farthest place he had ever been. The cab fare to the motel he chose (again, thru Internet research, and it was a ‘mom and pop” operation, so he knew he was getting the best. He checked in, took a shower, and set out to learn about his new home in Spokane. He only would give himself a day and a half until Wednesday before he had to seriously start the getting the apartment and job phase of living in Spokane.
12. But it was the homelessness in Spokane that Ulysses saw that shocked him. He wasn’t a punk: growing up in the Peabody Projects and his step father being an “O.G” and heroin addict back in the day. Ulysses became homeless himself for two years back home in the ‘Lou. But the shit he was seeing in Spokane, in 2014, was beyond horrible. Most of the homeless were kids. Ulysses felt that he would wish his worst enemy to burn in hell before he would wish homelessness on anybody. The homeless situation Ulysses found himself in back in the day traumatized him, who, as a “buppy” back in the day (black urban professional, no kids) before the 1988 wall street crash. If it had not been for growing up in the Projects, he would never had survived the two years of his homelessness. That shit bothered him. It bothered him to the point of not getting any, after just 72 hours being in Spokane. He woke, and got out of the bed. It was three o’clock in the morning, and he was tired and jet lagged.He was multitasking since he got to Spokane: sightseeing, making telephone contacts locally, and looking for an apartment, getting his graduate shit in order, and taking photos for his Facebook page. He was tired, and decided to sit up and write. He plugged his laptop in, and took a seat next to the only window in the motel room which faced the parking lot. It was the smell that he noticed first. It was more like a punch to the fucking face actually, as Ulysses would later recall in the story he would write about the experience. Ignatius wondered if Spokane had some kind of “Tacoma Aroma”. He got up. He debated pulling the shades a little for fear of freaking out neighbors who were pulling up.
13. Ulysses pulled the blinds. He saw a mostly empty parking lot with a blue van parked over the farthest left side of the motel parking lot. That’s when he saw it. “No fucking way,” Ulysses muttered to himself (bad habit, made some people think he was “craaaaza”).Ulysses grabbed his smart phone, and started to record.”I’m gonna be rich, I’m gonna be fucking rich!” he mumbled, as he videotaped everything he was seeing at the time. He set the smart phone tripod on the windshield, then sat back down quickly and continued to write. After ten minutes of writing, Ulysses got up from the laptop and cautiously looked out the window over the smart phone on the tripod on the window sill. Ulysses looked left and right, even up and down. No sign of what he saw and what he recorded. Ulysses sat back up down to type at the keyboard of his laptop. Suddenly, the door boomed like it had been hit by a car. Ignatius jumped up and went to the window. Then screamed CHAPTER FOUR The smell was so strong it awoke the husband who ran the motel in the Spokane Mountains. He didn’t want to wake his wife, but he had to find out where this smell was coming from. It was stronger the last times he had smelled it. The motel owner walked out his door to his office and looked at the farthest end of the motel doors. One of the motel doors was open. Or what was left of it. “Oh no,” the motel owner said. “Not again.” THE END
14. The Marmot Belizimious Montegard had spent a considerable amount of money coming to Washington State and completing his two video projects for his internet content company. Montegard had talked the Slovakian government into a grant to try and get video of Bigfoot. He ended up getting two video pieces on Amazon instead, which he had already got two buyers in Australia, both online news portals. But Montegard’s’ pet project was getting video of Spokane Washington’s mascot.zit was a rodent called a Marmot. Montegard became intrigued with stories in Seattle on the creatures and things about Spokane. He had been to Seattle and Tacoma, so Spokane would round off his trip plus land him some additional video content of waterfalls and the Spokane River, which ran right thru the middle of the city. On his last day in Spokane, he planned on getting late night video footage of the elusive varmints. He had spent two day prior camped out in the park, which unfortunately had almost 100 degree temps on both days. He decided the late night camp out would give him a better opportunity of getting footage of the marmots on the banks of the Spokane River in downtown Spokane. On the third night, at 9:30, Montegard came out of one of the restaurants in downtown Spokane. He had drunk most of his dinner. It was still hot as hell, but as drunk as he was, he really didn’t feel the heat. This was his last night I the city of Spokane. He wanted to get video of those fucking marmots.
15. He made his way back to his rental car, got his video equipment, and got back in the rental car and turned the air conditioner on. He chilled for a bit as he was parked right along the Riverfront park entrance. He pulled out a joint of J’s Kush , enjoying one of the perks of being in a state in the U.S. where ganja was legal. He took two deep drags, and put it out. He was already drunk. He wanted the ganja to mellow him out, so he can get good video footage without shaking hands. At 2: 30 a.m. he decided it may have cooled enough for him to venture out and see if he could get closer. Montegard was too stoned and drunk to take a trip into the park at night. He walked over the the big red wagon, and took out his infrared binoculars. He aimed it toward the banks of the river about 200 yards into the park. That’s when he saw it. He rubbed his eyes, and then put the binoculars back up. He saw it again, only this time it was half way closer. It was coming towards him.”Fuck me,” he said, and ran back toward his car, which was a block and a half down the street. It was the longest run of his life, especially fro a middle aged European who was sorely out of shape. He closed the passenger door of the car ash eh got in on the driver side. Suddenly the entire car jolted violently to the right, as the driver side door and window cracked. Montegard looked out the window. And screamed.
16. It was very large, over seven feet, very hairy and man shaped but with the head that looked like….Montegard knew the ganja was good, but he knew it wasn’t that good. But it was the smell the overwhelming stench that almost made Montegard throw up. Wet fur. He hit the gas and grabbed the steering wheel as he screeched off the side of the street and into the nonexistent traffic of the downtown riverfront street almost deserted at two in the morning, .he couldn’t get the thing out of his mind. He got about a mile east of downtown in the Loft are before he pulled over. The dented driver side door was pulling into his left side. But it was the sound that the thing was making during the attack. Montegard could not get that shit out of his mind. He got the door open and stepped out into the street. He noticed a light in the backset of the rental. The video recorder was on the entire time. He picked up the recorder, hit playback, and watched in horror. He got everything on video; the entire attack. He thought it was a video of Big Foot. It wasn’t. Montegard had heard the stories of how polluted the Spokane River had become. What he was seeing on his video recorder may have been confirmation of just how polluted those Spokane River waters were. In the video was a creature bigger than a bear. But it wasn’t a bear It was a marmot. THE END