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DRIPPINGS FROM THE REAPERS PEN
Thom futrell-martial artist, writer, artist

Thom Grim Reaper futrell


Last Updated: 12/10/2009

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Gender: Male
Status: Married
Age: 39
Sign: Cancer

City: JACKSON
State: Michigan
Country: US
Signup Date: 5/5/2006

Who Gives Kudos:


Monday, October 19, 2009 

Category: Writing and Poetry

....JACKSON.... BURG

TGREAPER2009

 

 

     Travis pulled up underneath the only working streetlight on the strip. The general store stood like the rest of the town, empty and dark. It was like a ghost town, everything were it should be, except there wasn’t anybody anyplace. Donna moaned softly in her sleep. Travis looked down at his young wife. Blood was starting to seep through the wet bandages on her arm. He reached down and ran his fingers through her soft brown hair. He had to do something.

     Travis pulled the car up a little farther, just out of the light, and then climbed out and into the pounding rain. He crouched by the front door of the store, looking for any alarm system. In doing so, his hands slightly pushed, and the door opened without a sound. He took one last look around, his eyes falling on his Buick and the precious woman bleeding inside it, and then he went inside.

     The first thing he noticed was the security cameras. They were propped in each corner, each having the wires unplugged and dangling in the shadows. A wave of relief poured over Travis. He wasn’t a thief, and if the store was open, he would pay for everything. He found a first aid kit in the middle of aisle four, next to the can goods and engine oil. He grabbed two handfuls of cupcakes from the hostess display and carried his goods up to the register. He reached over and pulled a plastic bag from behind the counter and dumped everything into it. Then he slipped back to the door, and after checking again for any onlookers, he slid back out into the wet night.

     Donna was starting to stir as Travis pulled into the hotel. It was a three story box, generic, and yet comforting at the same time. Travis looked down at Donna, who was studying her wet bandages.

     “How are you feeling?” He asked.

     “Like I fell from grace.”

     “Well, more like fell on your ass, but I won’t get technical,” Travis said. “C’mon, let’s get you inside and patched up.”

     Travis half walked, half carried Donna into the hotel. Like everyplace else, the reception desk was empty, and all the keys were neatly arranged on the board. Travis looked around to make sure the coast is clear, and then grabbed a set of keys.

     “Looks like were in fourteen b,” Travis said, studying the keychain.

     Two hours later Travis was sitting in a recliner staring out the window at the night sky. Donna was sleeping on the bed, her wound freshly dressed. Travis was about to fall asleep himself when the bathroom light turned on. He looked over at Donna, who stirred softly, then returned to whatever dream was making her smile. He walked over to the bathroom and slowly opened the door. The tub was filling with hot soapy water, and two candles were lit at the far end.

     “What the hell?” Travis whispered.

     “For me? You’re so sweet!” Donna brushed past Travis and started searching for a towel. There was a set of them neatly folded in the cabinet. Travis took another look around before closing the door. He didn’t want to tell Donna that he had nothing to do with the candles or bath; he didn’t want to scare her. He walked back over to the recliner and was soon snoring in it.

     Something brushed past Travis’s arm, waking him up. Moonlight was filling the dark room, casting shadows on the walls. Donna was on the bed, sound asleep. It didn’t take long for Travis to realize he wasn’t alone. He jumped out of the recliner and found himself surrounded by people. Men, women and children, in various uniforms and outfits. They wore blank expressions, just stared straight ahead.

     “Are you comfortable?” A soft voice echoed from somewhere in the room.

     “Yes, thank you,” Travis said. “Sorry about the store. I needed bandages for Donna.”

     “She fell,” The voice said.

     “Yeah, we were camping, and there was a downpour. She slipped and rolled down a hill. There was some barb wire in the foliage and she wrapped up in it.”

     “She will be fine,” the voice said. “Rest.”

 

     “Travis wake up!” Donna’s voice brought him off the chair in an instant. She was sitting in the dining room, her back to him. The smell of eggs and bacon filled the room. Travis walked over to Donna, who was reading a get well soon card. There were two plates loaded with steaming eggs, bacon, sausage links and toast. Travis sat down across from Donna and started eating. She looked up at him with shock in her eyes.

     “What are you doing?” She asked. “I didn’t make this; it was here when I woke up.”

     “I know,” Travis replied. “I think I met the welcoming committee.”

     “What the hell is going on?”

     As if in answer to Donna’s question, there was a knock on the door. The couple exchanged looks before Travis slowly walked over to the door. He opened it to an empty hallway. On the floor was an old newspaper. Travis reached down to pick it up and suddenly felt dizzy. He shook it off and took the paper back to the table. Donna was eating heartedly when he returned. He sat down and read the headlines.

     “Town poisoned by unknown source. Investigators looked into the possible disappearance of town’s people when communication coming from ....Jackson.... burg suddenly ceased. Upon investigation, the residents were found dead, most of which were sat around the dining room table, breakfast still in front of them.” The couple looked at the food, then each other. Eyes bulging, Donna tried to stand and fell on the floor. Travis tried to move, to help her up, but couldn’t get his legs to move. He could hear the same voice from the night before.

     “Welcome to the neighborhood.”

Gary
Gary Henry

 
Now that is a ghost town. Great write Thom. Makes me wish even more that I could attend your class!
 
Posted by Gary on Monday, October 19, 2009 - 10:44 PM
[Reply to this
Thom futrell-martial artist, writer, artist
Thom Grim Reaper futrell

 
Thanks Gary! It would be great to have you there. I might transcribe the lesson for the people who cant make the actual class. Something I am considering.
Yours
Thom

 
Posted by Thom futrell-martial artist, writer, artist on Monday, October 19, 2009 - 10:51 PM
[Reply to this
Windows to the Soul

 
Wonderful... I love it!

 
Posted by Windows to the Soul on Monday, October 19, 2009 - 11:07 PM
[Reply to this
Thom futrell-martial artist, writer, artist
Thom Grim Reaper futrell

 
Aw, thanks! How you been, by the way?
Your friend and fan
Thom
 
Posted by Thom futrell-martial artist, writer, artist on Tuesday, October 20, 2009 - 11:01 AM
[Reply to this
Mea Vampire Poet
Melea Lail

 
Thom this is one of your best sir!!...Great write and excellent read...kept me on the edge of my seat the whole time....Keep up the great work!!!....Melea
 
Posted by Mea Vampire Poet on Tuesday, October 20, 2009 - 12:39 PM
[Reply to this
Thom futrell-martial artist, writer, artist
Thom Grim Reaper futrell

 
Thanks Melea! I appreciate that!
Your friend and fan
Thom

 
Posted by Thom futrell-martial artist, writer, artist on Tuesday, October 20, 2009 - 3:47 PM
[Reply to this
Don Boivin...Dark Fiction Author
Don Boivin

 
Great story Thom, I like to read about ghost town stories. I am going to do some research in the near future to see the different ghost town stories that Michigan has...have you done any research on this? Again this is a great story!

~Don

 
Posted by Don Boivin...Dark Fiction Author on Saturday, October 24, 2009 - 9:52 PM
[Reply to this
Thom futrell-martial artist, writer, artist
Thom Grim Reaper futrell

 
Hi Don, I did do some research and I discovered there are a ton of lighthouse hauntings here in Michigan, something I am considering writing about in the near future. Thanks for reading the story and for the kind words!
Your friend and fan

Thom
 
Posted by Thom futrell-martial artist, writer, artist on Saturday, October 24, 2009 - 10:41 PM
[Reply to this
Lia
Lia Scott Price

 
My kind of neighborhood! Awesome! :-)

 
Posted by Lia on Sunday, November 08, 2009 - 6:14 AM
[Reply to this
Thom futrell-martial artist, writer, artist
Thom Grim Reaper futrell

 
Thanks Lia! Love those quiet little towns!
Your friend and huge fan
Thom

 
Posted by Thom futrell-martial artist, writer, artist on Sunday, November 08, 2009 - 6:30 PM
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