Death Sends A Video

We all have gotten the email: Is this you in this video... We all know not to open it, but maybe not for the reasons we think.

 

Death Sends A Video

 

Death In The Hood

Connie opened her FriendsBook message and shook her head. There was only one line and it read, What are you doing in this video? She looked to see which one of her idiot friends had sent her the Spam.

 

“Of course,” she muttered. “Barb. That woman will click on anything. Connie picked up her phone and sent her a text message. Change your FriendsBook password, you’ve been hacked. Then she deleted the link from her inbox.

 

Her phone rang. Glancing at it, Connie saw that it was a text message from Barb. NOT JUST HER FRIENDSBOOK. BARB’S  BEEN HACKED. TO PIECES.

 

“What the heck? That woman’s sense of humor gets more and more bizarre.” She texted back, NOT FUNNY.

 

The next text was a picture. It was of Barb, with her body parts removed and lying next to her in a pool of blood. The message that came with it said, YOU’RE NEXT.

 

Connie dropped the phone and screamed.

 

***

The funeral was closed casket. Connie had stood next to it and tried not to see Barb as she had appeared in the photo the killer had sent her. She tried not to think about how the killer hadn’t been caught and how he had told her he was coming after her. The police had pulled back up the video link she’d been sent, just in case there was some clue on it, but the link hadn’t led anywhere. Just a message that read, THIS IS NOT A VALID LINK.

 

Her brother wanted her to move.

 

“I’m not going to live my life in fear.” But she did agree to stay at a safe house until the creep was caught.

 

“At least they have an internet connection here, even if it is slower than dial up.”

 

Finally she connected to FriendsBook. She clicked the top tab and froze. ONE MESSAGE FROM Barb. She looked around. The cop was outside the door, maybe she should call him into the room.

 

“I’ll take a look first. If there’s nothing there… I don’t want to waste his time.”

 

She clicked on the message. IS THIS YOU IN THE VIDEO? WHAT WERE YOU THINKING? Chewing on her lower lip, Connie moved the mouse over the link and clicked. A video popped up and began playing. As she watched the video the room began to spin. The video showed her sitting in her room at the safe house, watching a video on the computer. In the video she was holding a cup of coffee, just like she was now. In the video she heard a noise and turned, spilling her coffee in the process before falling and hitting her head on the floor.

 

“What the hell…”

 

Behind her she heard the door open. She jumped, turning to see who was coming in. She didn’t even feel the coffee scald her leg before everything went black.

 

***

“What do you mean there was no video?”

 

“I’m sorry ma’am. I have my best tech officer on it. There’s nothing there.” The police Captain shifted uncomfortably.

 

“What about the officer? The one that came into the room right before I passed out. Certainly he saw the video. It was on the screen when he opened the door.”

 

“Ma’am, again, I’m sorry but he didn’t see anything.”

 

Connie looked out the window, frustrated. When she looked back she saw the way he was looking at her. “I’m not crazy!”

 

“Of course not, ma’am.”

 

“You don’t need to patronize me.”

 

He smiled. “I’m not. I know this is a very frightening situation for you.” He paused, then said, “I have an officer outside. If you need anything…”

 

“I’ll be sure to yell.”

 

***

WHAT WERE YOU DOING IN THIS VIDEO?

 

Connie stared at the screen. She wanted to call the officer outside the door, but they already thought she was crazy. What if she called him and nothing was there? She sighed. Why had she even logged onto the internet? She moved the cursor, intending to delete the link. At the last minute she changed her mind and clicked it open.

 

In the video it was dark outside. She was sitting in the hospital bed and a nurse was bent over her. Connie was struggling with the nurse, who had a needle in her hand. Well, that would explain the struggle. She hated shots.

 

Connie looked up from the video and looked out the window. It was just starting to get dark. Turning back to the screen she watched the door open and someone came into the room. She couldn’t see his face because it was covered with a surgical mask. The Connie in the video was yelling, trying to get the nurse to turn around, but the woman wasn’t paying attention to her. He walked up behind the nurse and stuck a knife into her back. When the nurse slumped over the bed he turned to Connie.

 

“Run,” Connie whispered. “Run. Why am I not running?”

 

Connie jumped. There was a knock at the door. Connie looked up from her laptop and her heart began to pound as fear rushed through her. The nurse in the video was coming into the room.

 

“Hi, I’m Angie. I just need to get some vitals…”

 

“NO! GET OUT! GO! HE’S GOING TO KILL YOU.”

 

Connie’s laptop fell to the floor. Alarmed that Connie was having a panic attack, the nurse rushed to the bed to restrain her. She called for help over her shoulder. Connie understood that the cop should be running into the room, but no one came.

 

 “This will help you relax.” The nurse pulled a syringe out of her pocket. When Connie knocked the needle out of her hands, the nurse pulled something out of her pocket and began to tie Connie’s arm to the rail.  “I’m sorry,” she said, “but this is for your own safety.”

 

“No,” Connie cried. “You don’t understand…”

 

Behind the nurse the door opened. Connie opened her mouth to scream, but nothing came out.”

 

Word Count: 1,000

Blood Stained

Blood Stained

By Lisa McCourt Hollar

Alone.

Even when he is home.

She pretends not to care

That he’s talking to her.

The other her,

Not his wife,

The woman he swore

To love,

Honor

And cherish

Till death do them part.

But her.

The woman across the world,

Who he’s never met.

Who he tells is beautiful…

And his wife dies inside,

A little each day,

Alone and forgotten,

Her anger growing,

Simmering behind her eyes,

Her heart growing cold.

Her soul broken,

She has nothing to lose,

But the life that he stole.

He was talking to her,

When she put the gun to his head

And stained the computer screen red.

This Is How It Begins...

Today's Vamplit theme is Antique, Scientific Oddities.

This Is How It Begins…

By Lisa McCourt Hollar

“Careful opening the door. The air inside is probably stagnate, so make sure your masks are on. We don’t know for sure what Dr. Meggs was doing in here, just that he thought it best to barricade the lab.”

“And kill himself.”

“Yes Straka, and kill himself,” Nita Sanders said.

“Should we really be opening this place up then,” Alejandra Wiens asked, the nervousness in her voice echoing the concern they all had.

“We are scientists,” Nita said. “We don’t let fear stop us.”

“Especially when there is money involved.” Neil Straka smirked.

“Is it true that we all will be rich?”

“That depends. We don’t know how far Dr. Meggs got with his experiment, just that he ordered his family to never open the lab doors.”

“And yet, his niece has hired us to do just that.” Kurt Dombrosky looked around the lab, his eyes shining like a kid in a candy shop. Nita had to admit, it was pretty cool. All the beakers and test tubes were preserved exactly as Dr. Meggs had left them.

“Some of this equipment was obsolete fifty years ago,” Neil said.

“I read a paper he wrote,” Alajandra said. “It sounded like the ravings of a lunatic. Did he really believe death could be stopped?”

“There are many people that believe it is possible,” Nita said. “I am just interested in prolonging life. That is what Cecilia Meggs hired us to do.”

“She has the same disease her aunt did,” Kurt said

“I found his notes.” Nita blew dust off of a notebook that had been sitting open on a desk. Scanning it, she snorted. “It does sound like the ravings of a lunatic. Listen to this.”

‘I administered the medicine to Sophie, in powder form, since she is unable to swallow pills. The powder is breathed in and absorbed through the membranes. I saw results almost immediately. Sophie’s eyes cleared and she recognized me for the first time in over a month. “

“The next day he writes,”

‘One of my lab assistants has cancer. I was unaware of this, until he came to me this morning and told me. I had noticed he was losing weight, but I blamed it on the long hours we were keeping. He wondered if the powder could cure him. I took blood tests before administering the dosage and then took more blood an hour after. The cancer is gone!’

“Sounds wonderful,” Alejandra said.

“You would think, but then listen to this.”

‘The rats are showing signs of deterioration. A week ago they were thriving; now look like the risen dead. Whiskers was eating his cage mate. And even though Squigie’s entrails were strewn across the cage, he was still alive and trying to get at Whiskers. I put them down by decapitating their heads. Dear God, what have I given my wife?’

“That is where it ends. A few days later he killed himself.”

“Dr. Sanders, come look at this!”

“It looks like a sarcophagus,” Nita said, joining Kurt in the next room. There were two caskets, both resembling the burial vessels of ancient Egypt. Both were nailed shut.

“Let’s pry it open,” Nina said.

The lid to the casket made a groaning sound and then gave, falling open and releasing the air that had been in there for over thirty years. Inside was Sophie Meggs.

“Her skin appears to be mummified,” Nita said. Lifting the woman’s hand, she stared at the open lid in shock. “Her nails are broken and her fingers were ripped open. There are scratches on the lid. She was alive when she was entombed.”

Prying the next one open, Kurt nodding at Nita and verified the same results.

“No wonder he killed himself,” Straka said. “By the way,” he said, holding up a vile, “I found the cure.”

“Be careful with that,” Alejandra said, backing away.

“The man was nutters,” Straka said. “It’s probably harmless.”

“Just the same,” Nita said, “you should put your mask on…like I told you too when we first entered. You too Alejandra,”

“You aren’t my superior. We are equals in this project, so you don’t get to...” Suddenly Straka stopped speaking, his eyes opening wide. He pointed behind Nita.

Puzzled, Nita turned and screamed. Sophie Meggs, was lunging for her, mouth opened wide. Nita dodged out of the way, but her mask was knocked off by Sophie’s flailing arm.

Still holding the crowbar, Kurt lodged it into the back of the corpse’s head. Sophie stopped moving and crumbled to the floor. Kurt pulled the crowbar out and turned just in time to find the second corpse. He swung and missed, as the zombie lunged for Straka. Falling backwards, Straka screamed. Kurt swung again, this time connecting with the back of the creature’s head and killing him.

“Thank God,” Nita said, then froze as the sound of breaking glass.

“I..it…Oh my God.” Straka sat next to the broken vile, his pants soaked with piss. “They were alive!”

“And now we are dead,” Nita screamed. “You just contaminated us, except for Kurt. He still has his mask on.”

“What are we going to do?” Alejandra was crying.

“This thing takes a week to infect the body. We can work on a cure, but if we can’t find one, Kurt will have to lock us in here. Kill us first, if you can, but lock the lab back up and don’t let anyone else in. Ever.”

“NO! I can’t. I won’t be…NO! You all are as crazy as Meggs was.” Dr. Straka was backing away, heading for the exit.

“Neil, don’t do it!” Nita tried to stop Straka, but he was closer to the door than she was and fear motivated him to move quickly. He was out the door before she could stop him. Then she heard the bolt slide into place. They were locked in, just as she had ordered, but Straka was outside and she had no doubt he would spread the contamination.

Word Count: 998

Death Goes On Strike

If you haven't read the previous post, please do. It is the story of what happened to Death prior to this. I have written this story for the vamplit friday flash blog. The theme is Death.

Death Goes On Strike

By Lisa McCourt Hollar

“Death, what are you doing?”

Death looked up at the figure standing over him, a smile playing around his thin, boney lips. “Uh, fishing. At least that’s what it used to be called when you put a worm on a hook and threw it into the water. Since I haven’t had any fish bite lately, I think it might actually be called loitering. But I like the term fishing, so I’m just going to go with it.”

Khronos sighed, “I mean why are you fishing instead of doing your job?”

“Oh that. I’m on strike.”

“You’re Death. You can’t go on strike. You know what happens when you don’t do your job.”

“Zombies.”

“That about covers it. And I’m not happy when zombies come busting down my door and try to eat my brains.”

“Hmmm,” Death said, reeling in the fishing line, inspecting his bait and then casting it back out, “not my problem.”

“IT MOST CERTAINLY IS!” Khronos paused, trying to calm himself. It wasn’t becoming of a god to lose control. After a moment, he continued on, calmer. “It most certainly is your problem. I have zombies knocking down my door because you aren’t doing your job. Now you’re on probation. I would think you would find it in your best interest to tow the line.”

“You know where I live,” Death said, “You’ve been there. You have met HER. I can’t take it anymore.”

“So move out.”

“I can’t. Not on what you and the Death Council pay me. So until I get a raise, I will not be collecting any more souls.”

“You can be replaced,” Khronos said.

“Oh no, not that! Anything but that!” Death fell on the ground, cowering at the feet of the god of time. Then he started laughing. “Please, do. I would like to see who you find to do this job?”

“Giltinė has expressed interest in having her job back.”

“Giltinė. You have got to be kidding me. She was old when I took over. She must be farting dust by now.”

“She has a certain style though. That poison tongue of hers was always a big hit with the council. And we never had zombies running around when she was collecting for us.”

“No? How about those seven years she was trapped in a coffin? Did people just show up at Purgatory and turn in their souls? Oh wait…you called it leprosy back then.”

“Zombies and lepers are not the same.”

“No, but no one wants to touch either one.”

“Get back to work,” Khronos pleaded.

“Give. Me. A. Raise.”

“You know the money isn’t there Grim. We have Xeracles working in pest control. Budget cuts have forced even the highest paid demi gods to take cuts in pay.”

“I’m not asking for much. Just enough to move out of my mom’s place. Do you know she has started dating? I don’t think I can stand much more of the sounds coming from her room.”

“She’s dating. Since when?”

“Hey wait,” Death said, detecting a bit of jealousy in his boss’s voice. “You don’t have a thing for my mother do you? You know she turns men into stone, right?”

“Of course not. Umm, how long has she been dating?”

“Three months.”

“Who is she seeing?” Khronos winced at the mild squeak in his voice.

“Poseidon this week. Who knows who she might be interested in next week. Could be you…if you play your cards right.”

“What do you mean if I play my cards right?”

“I know there has to be some extra money lying around someplace. You give me a raise, I go back to work and you take my mother out to eat at that new cannibal restaurant. It’s a win win for everyone.”

“Well, Xeracles has been getting lax on the pest control. There are rodents running around unchecked on Mount Olympus. I might be able to justify another cut in pay.”

“I want better health coverage too.”

“How about if we reduce your out of pocket?”

“We’re getting there. Give me a drug card and we might be able to end this strike.”

“Done,” Khronos said, producing a contract for Death to sign.

“Great,” Grim said. “This strike is over.”

“Death,” Khronos asked, feeling slightly as though he had just sold his soul to the Reaper,  “did I just pay to date your mother?”

“Yes you did.”

“You don’t find anything wrong with this?”

Grim shook his head. “Nope.”

“Oh, okay. Oh Grim?”

“Yes?”

“Start with my office when clearing out the zombies.”

“But of course.”

***

Later that night…


“It’s all over the news, you went back to work,” Medusa said, patting her son’s shoulders.

“Really,” Grim said, “what are they saying?”

“That you struck some kind of deal with the Death Council and that all the zombies have been taken care of. Xeracles is a little miffed though.”

“I imagine, having to take a cut in pay.”

“They fired him,” Medusa said, surprised her son didn’t know. They said that they couldn’t afford to pay for death and pest control both so they are combining the jobs.”

“What do you mean, combining,” Grim asked.

“Soul collecting and rodent patrol are done by one entity now.”

“No! That is not what I agreed to!”

“Didn’t you read the small print in your contract? What am I always telling you? Read the small print. You never listen to me.”

Death cringed as his mother began to rant about his inability to do anything right. Okay, so he would have to take care of rats too. And cochroaches. Death shuddered at that. Cochroaches were even harder to kill than zombies. Speaking of things that were hard to kill…

“I swear, I don’t know what you would do without me,” Medusa ranted.

“I can think of a few things.” Death looked at the clock and smiled. “By the way, you have a date tonight. Wear something hideous.”



Word Count: 999



Copyright© 2011 Lisa McCourt Hollar. All rights reserved.

Who's At Death's Door

This is NOT my Friday Flash, but it is the prequel to it. I wrote this a few months ago for a contest on writing.com. It won..YAY! So read this and then go on to the next post for Death's continuing story and his struggle with living with his mama.

Who's At Death's Door?

By Lisa McCourt Hollar

"Death, someone's here to see you."

Death, AKA Grim, looked up from the game he was playing and gave his mother a puzzled look as she entered his basement domain. " Me ? No one comes to see me. I go to them. That's how this works , I'm Death ."

Rolling her eyes, his mother replied, "Nevertheless, there's a man up there looking for you. Some kind of a reporter or something. He said he was sent to interview you."

"Hmmm, a reporter? That would be a pretty big coup, landing an interview with Death." Grim said, stroking his chin. "And he has guts; I have to respect that, although it could set a bad precedence. If I talk to him, next thing I know, everyone's going to want to come over and hang out with Death."

"I don't think you need to worry about that. Most people don't enjoy the smell of brimstone and, uh, dirty socks." She raised her eyebrows as she pulled a pair of smelly, stiff socks out from under a pile of trash.

"My lucky socks! I've been looking for those!" Grim snatched them out of his mother's hand and sat down on his couch, to put them on. He kicked off his sandals and scratched at his dry feet.

"I guess you didn't think to look under the box of moldy pizza." Grim's mother picked up a jar of dried fruit, then wrinkled her nose in disgust, her stomach turning as she realized that what she had first mistaken to be grapes, were actually dried up eyeballs that her son had preserved for some reason. She dropped the jar back where she had found it.

"This guy, he's not touched in the head is he? He does understand that he should be running from me, not knocking on my door?" Grim was looking at his foot, trying to pick something out from between his toes. He glanced up at his mother as he asked her this and scratched his head with the same finger he'd been digging between his toes with.

"He didn't knock on your door, he knocked on mine."

"Oh for Pete's sake, mom, for the last time, I pay you rent. That makes it my door too!" Grim was tired of the same old argument. He knew he should have tried to find a place of his own, but once you told a potential landlord that you were Death, they didn't exactly jump for joy at the prospect of renting to you.

" You pay me rent ? A few heads and lost souls every month is not rent. And the neighbors are talking. Apparently severed heads on the lawn is only approved for Halloween. Halloween's over with. What am I supposed to do with them now?"

"I don't know, boil them? Invite the cannibals down the road over for dinner. I think the one with the bone in his nose has a thing for you." Grim wiggled his eyebrows playfully at his mother. Spying the jar of eyeballs she had discarded, Grim picked it up, took the lid off and popped an eye into his mouth.

"Yeah, he has a thing for me, Death's mom." She shook her head in disbelief. "No one wants to touch me, for fear you will touch them."

"That's right; blame me and not the mess of snakes growing out of your head, not to mention that stony stare of yours." Grim gave his mother a cold look. "You know, you have your own reputation, you don't need mine to hold you back."

"Your father never complained."

"How could he? You turned him to stone!"

Medusa gave her son a stony glare, but it didn't work on him. "Look, I'm sending him down. Throw something on, unless you want it known that Death sits around playing Dungeons and Dragons in his underwear."

"These were a gift from Aphrodite." Grim said the name of the Greek goddess slowly, enjoying the feel of it on his tongue.

"Well, that explains the hearts, although I would have figured her for a briefs kind of a girl."

"Just hand me my cloak. Have you seen my scythe? I know it's around here somewhere. I might as well try to make a good first impression." Grim paused for a moment, reflecting on the irony of what he had just said. "You know, I've never had to worry about that before. My first impression is usually my last. Oh, there it is!" Grim, pointed to his scythe, in the corner, by the door. "Grab it for me while I pull on my lucky socks."

"I've asked you to stop putting this by the steps. One of these days it's going to fall when I come down and cut my head off."

"I could never be that lucky. Okay, I'm ready. Send him down.”

"I'm already here Mr. Death and your mother misunderstood, I am not a reporter, I'm from personnel. I'm here for your performance review. I'm afraid we have a few concerns."

Both Grim and his mother jumped as a cloud of fog rolled into the room, the voice emanating from within the mist.

"KHRONOS, old friend," Grim said, sounding anything but pleased, “what are you doing on this side of the underworld?"

"As I said, I am here for your performance review."

"Didn't I tell you to wait upstairs?" Medusa said, giving the man one of her looks. Who did he think he was, traipsing all the way through her house? She jumped back in surprise as he slithered, snakelike out of the fog and pushed his hood back off his head, or rather heads, since he had three. The first two had been hidden beneath the hood.

"Time waits for no one Madame. It would do your son good to learn that rule"

Medusa nodding, couldn't take her eyes off the lions head and was a bit fearful of what the bull head would do, if she got too near.

"Mother, this is Khronos, the god of time."

"Pleased to meet you," she stammered, backing towards the door that led out of the basement. "If you'll excuse me, I have something I need to get done. Then, she turned and fled up the stairs and away from the three headed god as fast as she could.

"What is this about a performance review? In all my years working for The Fates, I've never had any complaints."

"Well they aren't too happy with you now. It seems you've been cutting some corners." Khronos pulled out a file as he spoke and fixed all six of his eyes on Grim.

"I've never cut corners!" Grim protested.

"Really? Well how do you explain Elvis?"

"Elvis?" Grim scratched his head. "You mean that rock singer?"

"The King of Rock and Roll . You took him before his time."

"So I made a mistake! It was pretty hazy in there from all the smoke. That dude could party hard!"

"That dude was taking a dump in the bathroom and you fell on him!"

"I was woozy. It could happen to anyone. Besides, you guys fixed it. You sent him back."

"After he was already declared dead! We couldn't fix that. Now we have Elvis sightings all over the place. It's almost a repeat of the last time you took someone prematurely. Thousands of people shouting Hallelujah and declaring victory over death!"

"Jesus ? Now that wasn't my fault. That was between Hades and the Big Guy up there. And besides, no one told me He was HIS Son ! That might have helped in the decision making, but usually, when you hang someone on a cross, they die !"

"Which is why we didn't talk to you about it then. You were new to the job; your scythe was almost too big for you to hold. And besides, J did say He forgave you for it, so who were we to criticize?"

"He is rather big on that forgiveness." Death said, feeling a little warm at the memory.

"But there are the other incidents."

"What other incidents ?"

"Atropos has complained that there are times she snips the thread and you have neglected to take the person's soul. Do you know what kind of chaos that creates?"

"Okay, so we have a few Zombies running around up there. That girl needs to slow down. She's snipping faster than I can work."

"Perhaps if you'd quit playing with your joystick." Khronos suggested.

Grim appeared shocked, sputtering for a moment before it dawned on him what the god had meant. "Oh, my games...well even Death needs to have some fun every now and then."

"Not while there are zombies walking around. They eat brains. Did you know that?"

"You ate your children," Grim scoffed, popping a few eyeballs into his mouth. "What do you care about a few brains?"

"That wasn't me !" Khronos said, feeling more than a little irritated at this moron. "That was Chronos with a C. Why does everyone get us confused? You wouldn't believe what I had to go through to clear my credit up!" Khronos took a deep breath, calming himself before continuing, trying to get back on topic. "There is an order to things. Atropos cuts the yarn, you take the soul. That's how it is done. If you can't do the job, I'm sure we can find someone else that will.

"Fine, I'll be a little more careful, but Atropos could give me a little more warning too. And it wouldn't hurt Lachesis either to lengthen some of the yarn a bit. Do you know what it does to my reputation, every time I have to take a child? They blame me, not those three witches!"

"That's would be Pestilence you would need to talk to, not Lachesis. She can only work with what she is given."

"Of course ," Grim said, crossing his arms and giving Khronos a suspicious stare. "Stands to reason you would defend your wife's daughters. Anyway, why are you the one giving me my review? Isn't that a bit beneath a god?"

"Orders from The Big G," Khronos said, sounding put out. "Cutting corners and stuff. Gold roads aren't cheap and all those mansions He's building...well, long story short, anyone with a lower case is expendable. He has Zeus cleaning toilets in his spare time."

"That I would love to see," Grim said, chuckling at the idea of the big Olympian god scrubbing the porcelain god.

"Not if you don't want a lightning bolt up your ass. Hera laughed at him and she still can't sit down, which makes it difficult to do her job at the DMV."

Khronos picked up his clip board and stood. Pulling his cloak on he said, "I trust I won't have to come back for another review. This was just a verbal warning. The next step will not be so pleasant."

"I promise to do a better job." Death said, rolling his eyes. "No more zombies walking around eating brains and no more premature deaths. I promise."

Khronos sighed. He wished he could believe Grim, he hated this end of Tartarus and had no desire to come back. However, he had heard rumors that there were a few vampires running around unchecked. Once The Big Guy got wind of that, there'd be hell to pay. He wondered though who they could get to replace Grim, if it came to that. There weren't many willing to live in Tartarus, and for the pay being offered, they were lucky they'd found anyone to do the job.

"Okay, well keep your nose clean for six months and this will roll off your record... that's a rolling six months . Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go deliver a warning to Zeus. He's been cutting corners and not cleaning under the rim. The Big Guy hates dirt, which is surprising, considering He created it."

"Well you know what they say," Grim said, opening the door for Khronos, "Cleanliness is next to Godliness."

Copyright© 2011 Lisa McCourt Hollar. All rights reserved.