Short Stories Volume One -Horror, Romance, Monsters, Lust, this one's got it all

Fates and Prophecy

Let me tell.you a story friend, you look like the reasonable sort. No I'm not drunk Bartender, I'm just well on my way to having enough courage to do what must be done. But let me tell you that story friend, and maybe you can tell me if this whole thing is crazy or not. Weigh in on whether I'm just wasting my time even entertaining the idea. Honestly barkeep, bug off.

So it all started about three months ago when this man came into this very bar and sat down beside me, much as you did friend, only he did the talking then, and I swear I thought he was a lunatic, but now I'm not so sure. Damn I need a smoke, wish you could smoke in these joints these days, but not anymore. No. Law's changed and all that..

Where was I? Oh yes, so this man let's call him John, for ease of the story, so John sits down and he looks like he's seen a ghost and then he goes to tell me the very thing I'm about to tell you, all about this get-rich-quick scheme or change your life something or other he has that comes with a catch. Of course I roll my eyes and laugh like you just did friend, but he looked so harried and asked me just to listen. Asked me to just tell him if I thought it was crazy, and so I waved my hand at him and let him go on.

I don't know how this whole thing started, but apparently John found out about this whole deal himself and went to investigate it. And the more he talked the aketchier it sounded, so I really started to pay attention, right? And I went a lil' something like this...

John is living his average, ordinary, everyday, boring little life. But things start to go wrong for him. It's small at first. Lost twenty dollars here, late to work there, a speeding ticket over here.. But things just continue to escalate. John's fiancé leaves him. His car breaks down. He loses his job. His health begins to fail him. John's on the edge of suicide, it's too much, of course it's too much, right? Doesn't sound real!

But then John starts hearing rumors. He can get his life back. Or at least there's a possibility..

He's just gotta make a trip down to that old abandoned textile mill. You know the one? The one that was condemned years ago, but for some reason it's never been destroyed. The one everybody say is haunted because on some nights when the moon is full you can hear voices inside, they say. Wild laughter that chills the soul. People avoid that place like the plague and for good reason.

But not our good buddy John. Oh no. What does John do?

That's right. He waits 'til it's a full moon and sneaks into that old place, risking life and limb and probably tetanus, to see if what they say is true.

And here's the thing.

John told me what he found.

Sorry for whispering there, don't mean to be all dramatic. C'mere though, I don't want nobody else thinking I'm crazy.

Ok, so John sneaks in there and he says he walked forever in the dark. Stupid oaf says his cell died on him and he didn't bring no other light, so he got lost, right?

Well he said it musta been really late when he started hearing the laughter, and no matter which way he turned, he just kept getting closer and closer to it. And then suddenly whoosh, there's this fire see, and three old crones howling with laughter at him.

Oh c'mon now, don't be like that, don't chyou even wanna hear the rest of the story?

Yeah I know, I know, it sounds like a ghost story, but I promise you, that ain't it!

So John is standing there, right? Afraid of these old hags, because they just appeared out of nowhere and are acting like they're high or something. But one of them points at him, and even though he wants to run, John's stuck.

"Look Sisters, another raveled thread." The one that's pointing cackles.

"Whatever should we do with it?" Another one crooned, and by then, John just wanted out. But he realized that his hand is raising, and in it is this weird piece of yarn.

Now John knows he didn't have that before, and what's worse, is the old hag pointing at John is reaching for it, and John somehow knows if he gives it up, he's gonna be in big trouble. So John starts struggling and tries to run, but it's like his muscles are locked tight.

"We could always take the thread back, Sisters." The third old crone finally speaks.

"Or we could offer an exchange." The second one says, moving closer. "Maybe a shinier thread, shorter, but less frazzled?"

"No, no. I say we cut this one." The first one cackles, brandishing a pair of scissors.

"What if we re-weave the one he has?" Suggests the third.

"Only for a price, Sister, and one never knows what the fates have in store." laughed the first.

Well by this time John's sweating up a storm, he can't take it anymore. He doesn't know what the old broads mean, but it can't be good. He fights harder to move and the old women circle around him.

John's near ready to faint and somehow manages to ball his thread up and pull it to his chest, and just as he tries to yell at the old crones he don't want nothing to do with them, his phone rings, and just like that-they're gone.

Hmm, what's that? His phone was dead? Yeah, it was. Or that's what John said. But for some reason it had power again and wouldn't you believe it, it was just some damn spam call in the dead of night, but it broke the old crones' spell, and that's all John cared about.

Well the weeks went by and things got worse for John. turns out, he couldn't find another job, was gettin' evicted and his doc warning him the stress was gonna give him a heart attack. Plus with his financial problems, he could hardly afford the meds to keep that in check.

Finally, with the last twenty he had in his pocket, he ended up here, trying to decide what to do. That's when he encountered me and told me that story. Course I didn't believe him, but he wanted to know if he was crazy to try to go back there and make a deal. An exchange. Whatever. I told him do what he thought would make him happy, and he laughed like he was crazy. That was the last I saw of him, but I couldn't get the story outta my head.

So I hadda go see if they were real, see?

And let me tell you they were even scarier. Arguing over one tooth and one eye the whole time.

But I've hit rock-bottom myself, friend. Maybe not as bad as John had it. It's cancer you see. terminal. And I just don't know. Docs say I have six months left. Too late for treatment. Make a will. Enjoy my time with family and friends.

But what if those old broads can change that?

So what do you think, friend? Should I risk it?