Okay, here's the story I told you about a month or so ago, Jess. It's a very condensed version as I haven't added all the details that I wanted, but I was pressed for time to get my entry in before the deadline for a contest I entered it in. I plan on revising it and adding all the things I wanted to, but I'm going to take my time. When I'm finished, I'll post it here. Anyway, I hope everyone likes it. Please give me honest critiques, good and/or bad so I know what you all like and don't. By the way, I just won a gift card to Best Buy for my story.
Into the DarknessEvidence of John’s artistry was all around the office. Bloody stumps, severed heads, body casts, broken bones and awards abound. There wasn’t a desk, wall or table top that didn’t have a piece of his genius work on it. Off in the corner of the office was a small makeshift memorial displaying a picture of John surrounded by candles, small tokens and other sentimental artifacts in memoriam.
“Hey, Kev,” said Steve, “are you going to Melanie’s party tonight?”
Kevin lamented the invitation. It was bad enough Cheryl was suspicious that he was having an affair with John’s widow Melanie, and the thought of pretending to be happy at what would most undoubtedly be a sad affair was too much to bear.
Staring off at the memorial, he wondered how his “buddies” could be so unforgiving sleeping with John’s wife and how they were to blame, in part, for making John’s wife suspicious of his loyalties.
“You know, I don’t think I’m going to go. I know Melanie is doing this to carry on John’s legacy, and thanks to you assholes the wife thinks I also had something going on with the wench, but it’s not worth the bullshit.”
“Are you kidding me,” Mike belted out? “It’s the biggest party in Beverly Hills. All of the Hollywood big-wigs are going to be there. It’s been a year since John offed himself, you have to go. Besides, he would want you there. Hell, he would want us there.”
Kevin laughed inside at Mike’s ridiculous comment. Gazing at the memorial, Kevin said, “I wasn’t boffing his wife like all of you assholes were! You fuckers sure have a lot of nerve going to that wench’s party pretending to pay homage to your friend, all the while all you jerks will be doing is trying to get up Melanie’s skirt. The only reason I still work here is because I love what I do and John was my mentor. He taught me everything I know. I had respect for him, not that you fuckers would have any idea what that is.”
“You really loved the guy didn’t ya” Robert said? “No wonder you didn’t screw Melanie, because you loved John,” Robert said in a suggestive manner.
Laughing Steve piped in, “Yeah and the rest of us loved his wife, “
As all three burst out in laughter. John finished cleaning up his desk and said, “You know what? Fuck you! I’m not going. You can all go fuck yourselves, or Melanie, which is probably what you’ll all do tonight anyway; shameless fuckers.”
Kevin stood up, slamming his desk drawer and proceeded to leave. John’s picture began to teeter and wobble, all were silent as the picture fell to the ground, sending glass flying everywhere, John’s image landed facing Mike, Steve and Robert.
Silent and a bit shaken, Kevin smugly declared, “Maybe that’s John’s way of trying to send you assholes a message,” and promptly left slamming the door behind him.
Still a bit shaken Robert said,“Shit! That was fucking creepy.”
Tired and angered from the drama at work, Kevin arrived home, flopping into the bark lounger, lighting up a smoke, he grabbed the photo album atop the side table and began reminiscing about his time at the prop shop under John’s tutelage. Lost in the sea of photos… “You’re not going to that wench’s party are you?” Kevin jumped as Cheryl’s raspy voice broke the silence.
Collecting his thoughts, his voice cracking, he replied, “I was thinking about it.”
Rolling her eyes Cheryl replied, “How cozy is that going to be with you and the rest of the He-harem prancing around the party, making goo-goo eyes at Melanie while her ego devours your very souls?!”
Slamming the photo album shut Kevin yells, “I didn’t fuck that wench!”
“Right, and I’m Mother Theresa.”
“When are you going to get it through your thick skull that John was my best friend? I wouldn’t have done that to him. I’m nothing like Steve, Mike and Robert. More important, when are you going to understand I wouldn’t do that to you? None of them gave a shit about John, that’s why they screwed his floozy of a wife. The man was my mentor and someone I considered to be like a brother to me. I know I’ve ignored you over the past few years learning my trade, but I didn’t do anything with that woman so will you fucking drop it already?! John’s dead and I thought your suspicions would be buried with him. FUCK!”
“You expect me to believe that? Everyone did her, and all those late nights at work were probably spent with her, just like the rest of your so called friends.”
“You know what? Tonight isn’t about you and it isn’t about those assholes. Oddly enough, even though she’s trying to make it seem like she gives a shit, this party isn’t about his wench of a wife either. This is about saying goodbye to a stand up guy in a fashion that he would have loved. She’s only taking full advantage with this party to make herself look like the grieving widow.”
“Cry me a river, Kevin. Cry me a…”
"I know he killed himself because of her. Do you think I would be able to sleep at night if I had fucked her? Trust me, she’s going to have all of her fuck buddies there along with the biggest stars in Hollywood and everyone will be giving her their condolences, all the while she’s reaping his years of hard work and prestige not giving a shit he’s gone. It makes me sick! The only good thing out of this is she commissioned the studios to bring over his work for the party. The only one of his co-workers who will be grieving is me. ME! Yes, he needs someone there who was close to him that actually gave a shit to honor his memory. Besides, I need fucking closure. You know what? Yes! Yes, I am going there and I’m going there for one person and that’s, John.”
Kevin stomping out of the room, he grabs his costume bag and leaves.
Kevin’s strong stance on not having an affair with Melanie made Cheryl think twice. Was he really telling the truth? Deciding to get some answers, she heads to the costume store making sure she buys a costume that will hide her identity.
Arriving at the party, crowds of people pull into the gated Beverly Hills community and Cheryl flashes her invite to the gate guard. “Pulled that off, but how am I going to get inside unnoticed?”
A crowd of party goers are spotted heading toward the door and Cheryl manages to mingle in. One by one the guests are greeted and Cheryl is next. Trying to pass through the door with a quick hello, Melanie puts out her hand and says, “Hello, do I know you?”
Shifting her wig and adjusting her mask she says, “Bathory, Countess Bathory. Some friends invited me, I hope you don’t mind.”
Perplexed Melanie giggles and says, “Oh, yes. You mean the infamous Countess Bathory?”
“Hmm, yes… I love to cover myself in the blood of virgins,” looking past Melanie into the crowd of people trying to spot Kevin she says, “but there are no virgins here that I can see.”
“I beg your par…”
Cheryl interrupts by asking, “And what are you dressed as, a wench?”
“Why yes I am, isn’t it great?”
Cheryl mumbles under her breath, “It’s very fitting.”
“Excuse me…?”
Pushing politely past Melanie she says, “Thank you for letting me stay. Your husband was a wonderful man.”
Making her way through the crowd of people, Cheryl spots the bar and grabs a drink to calm her nerves. Scoping the room and on the lookout for Kevin, she realizes she doesn’t know what costume he’s wearing.
Grabbing one drink after another and quickly getting drunk, Cheryl spots John. He’s wearing his favorite pirate costume, his back facing her, standing next to Melanie. Angry at the sight, she marches through the crowd ready to confront John as a partygoer bumps into her, splashing the drink all over her.
“Will you watch where you’re going,” Cheryl screams.
“Sorry, you were rushing so fast that I….”
Cheryl frantically looks for John but he’s nowhere to be found. She moves about the estate to see Steve, Mike, Robert, Melanie and John go into a bedroom and they shut the door. Sneaking closer to listen to what’s going on, she hears what sounds to be the start of an S&M sex orgy. Seething with anger Cheryl rushes home, runs to the bathroom and quickly changes out of her costume. Heading to the den she’s startled to see John sitting in the chair dressed like a doctor.
“Where did you go,” John asks?
“I uh, went out. No, I went to the party looking for you. I saw you there in the pirate costume.”
“Pirate costume? I gave that to John last year, he loved it so I figured I’d give it to him. Don’t you remember? They buried him in it.”
“But, but, I SAW you.”
Pointing at his clothing and laughing he said, “I went as a doctor and was alone in his private study the whole time, tying one on. It wasn’t me you saw. Probably someone else dressed as a pirate.”
“NO! This was your costume, I know it was. There isn’t another like it.”
“You’re drunk, Cheryl. Just go to bed and we’ll talk in the morning.”
Confused and not sure what to think, Cheryl stumbles into the bedroom and passes out on the bed.
Hung over and her head pounding, Cheryl is awakened to John shouting, “Oh my fucking god! Holy shit! What the…?”
Crawling out of bed Cheryl heads into the dining room to see John reading the paper. His eyes glazed and clearly shocked, Cheryl asks, “What? What’s wrong?” John hands Cheryl the newspaper as she read the headline aloud.
“Hollywood Halloween Horror! At the estate of the late John Jacob, the bodies of his former co-workers Steve Shaw, Mike Mitchell and Robert O’Hare, along with the body of his widow Melanie Jacob, were found mutilated and scattered about the estate. The gory scene was as if they were props from the master himself. Eyewitnesses say they saw a man, bloody and dressed as a pirate fleeing the scene into the darkness. At press time, the suspect has not yet been found.”
(c) BlackMagic 2009
