|
|
|
A random Creepy/Funny very short story I wrote about half a year ago.
Created/Written by Joe Anzalone III
THE STORY OF NOTHING
Why can't she see me, a man sat, stewing in anxiety, why can't I get her to notice me? Harold had been watching a beautiful woman in the park from a distance for a few weeks now. As Harold spied on her from behind his copy of Hot Rodding Magazine, through his peripherals, he recounted to himself the many times he had intended to approach her over the past weeks.
He wasn't normally so enraptured by a single thought as he was by the thoughts he had of this particular female.
The woman was no more than twenty yards away, and Harold could see that she was purchasing a hotdog from a vendor in the park, so he took the chance to get a closer look at her. He quickly stood up and walked inconspicuously toward the hotdog stand, carefully managing to get in line, behind the woman, just before a young boy ran up to the line, behind Harold. The kid had a goofy smile and blue spots from a marker or highlighter all around his right eye.
Harold turned his attention towards the woman, inspecting her every detail.
He could now see, better than ever before, her long, soft hair, brilliantly shining in August's mid-day sun. Every part of her seemed so gorgeous. Seeing her in such revealing clothing gave Harold thoughts. Bad thoughts. Thinking out loud for once, he whispered to himself, "Jessica will notice me. I'll make her see me." Harold didn't actually know what her name was, so he gave her a name of his own: Jessica.
The woman turned her head, asking Harold if he had said something to her. He cautiously declined, secretly finishing his interupted thought on his own I'll see her later. I always see later. The vendor finished preparing the woman's food and she paid him. Harold wasn't paying attention and stared at the woman for several moments.
She took her food and walked back to her picnic table, then took the hotdog out of the bun and started pulling the bread apart, into small, individual chunks of about one inch in diameter.
Harold felt a poke in his back and a voice said, "Sir?" The vendor had grew impatient and nearly burned Harold's back with the steaming tongs. Harold tried to feel the burning spot on his back, but couldn't reach it, then walked away without ordering anything, but muttering under his breath, with malice, "Err, ******** retard..." The child, now at the front of the line, questioned, "Why can you call the Hotdog Man a retard if Mommy says I can't," he looked at the hotdog vendor, "Can I please have some French Fries, ******** Hotdog-Man?"
Harold sat down on the bench again, frustratedly forgetting to conceal himself behind the newspaper, staring at the woman. His gaze grew more fixated, and his eyes widened as his thoughts were lost in his imagination.
Suddenly, he looked at his AMP Mobile Cell Phone to determine the time.
It was now 2:36 PM. Harold decided to hit the arcade until 9:00 PM, the time at which Jessica usually returned home.
Pac-Man and Dig Dug gave Harold some trouble, but he managed to obtain a high score on each of them, also getting 1st place on several other arcade games including Cruisin' Exotica, Area 51, and Joust. At 8:25 PM, he left the arcade and started walking towards Jessica's apartment complex, just as he usually did. He sat on a bus stop bench across the street from the building, and waited for her.
While Harold waited, thoughts drifted in and out of his mind, conjuring many different images of his beautiful Jessica. Finally, he heard a low grunt come from the direction she normally walked home from. But, it sounded like a man's voice, so he assumed it couldn't have been her, and decided to ignore it. Shortly after he heard the voice, he heard the same man make a shushing noise and the rustleing or clothes, and maybe something being torn.
Harold ignored it until he could see the man more clearly. The image was startling to him, a man in a black leather jacket was holding Jessica to his left side by her hair in his left hand and her shirt in his right hand, both clenched tightly. She was obviously in pain, from her hair being partially ripped out, because she could not get herself free of the jacketed man's grasp, no matter how much she struggled.
Harold went berserk. He didn't think rationably. He didn't think at all.
Harold sprinted across the street in rage, dug his hands into the ground, and pulled a humongous chunk of concrete out of the sidewalk. The jacketed man, as well as the woman, looked at Harold with the most frightened expression imaginable, while Harold looked at them with the most frightening experssion imaginable. The man took his hands off of Jessica and held them above and in front of his face while ducking away from the rock, in an attempt to shield himself. Jessica, now released, fell to the ground and edged herself against a wall in the close alley between the two apartment buildings.
Harold smashed the giant concrete hunk onto the jacketed man, and howled with maniacle laughter, eyes eerily gleaming in the dark, from what light source, God only knows.
The rock crushed the man, exposed rebar splitting his neck and left shoulder open. But this wasn't the end. The jacketed man got back up, and showed his hideous vampire fangs as he hissed with revengeful anger!
By now, everyone was completely confused and had no idea what was going on, but, for the first time in over a month, Harold was thinking about something other than Jessica. He thought only Survive as he killed the jacketed vampire once again, this time by using both of his own concrete-crushing arms to impale the vampiric freak's torso in two places.
Unfortunately, niether of Harold's arms hit the vampire's weak spot (his heart... duh).
The jacketed vampire hissed even angrier than before, but was killed yet again, this time because Harold used his Herculean strength to pull his arms in opposite directions, tearing the vampire into two peices, but there was no blood because he's a ******** vampire. Also, he was still not dead, even though he died three times.
...Because he's a ******** vamipire.
Harold could now see there was no way to destroy this beast-man other than by killing it's heart. In one of the two mangled peices of twitching body, the heart was visible in the exposed chest. Harold unexpectedly ripped another, even giganticer chunk of conrete out of the sidewalk, this time with even more rebar hanging out the sides of it.
Then something obvious and expected happened.
Harold leaped out of the stratosphere and hurled the chunk of concrete and rebar down at the almost-dead vampire-man. Accuracy is hard to have when you're throwing rocks from space, so Harold was lucky when the entire hunk started to break apart, into fist-sized (and -shaped) peices and form a perfect line targeted one-hundred-and-five percent directly at the vampire's heart, which was tiny, because he was never loved as a child.
Each seperate fist-sized (and -shaped) peice of the concrete now hurdled down toward the vampire's heartless heart at at least one-thousand-miles-per-second.
The jacketed vampire's heart was obliterated, and he then stopped living (vampires are alive, or not?). The battle was over and Harold returned to earth by falling very fast, but landed without breaking too many bones and major organs, because he's the s**t. Harold looked at the woman and saw that she had died from a heart-attack, and had a terrified look on her face.
It wasn't very sexy.
Only moments later, agents Mulder and Scully arrived to confirm the existence of vampires, but the body caught on fire and disapeared for some reason, and they were once again left without any proof of the paranormal.
The end.
Next time: PART DEUX!!! NOT REALLY!!!
 Lord The Magic · Mon Feb 19, 2007 @ 05:47am · 1 Comments |
|
|
|
|
|
