A group of executives are holidaying on an exotic island, enjoying the sun, sea and daily rounds of golf. Each morning they head out onto the green to play a few rounds before the heat of the day is up. One morning, one of the executives is having a bad game; he's way behind, and he can see that everyone else is getting impatient waiting for him to catch up. He tells them all to go on ahead; he'll catch up with them at the end.
So they do. They head on off around the course and eventually end up back at the clubhouse, where they have a few drinks and wait for their colleague.
He never turns up.
Eventually, worried now, they head out to search for him on the golf course. They find his clubs and his bag, but no sign of the missing golfer. They notify the authorities, and a full search is begun.
The police discover an alligator languishing in the shade just off the green. The creatures are common in this tropical part of the world, but they rarely come as far inland as the golf course, and they're generally safe; if you keep your distance they won't bother you. All the same, they decide to check. A vet is called, and he knocks out the gator and cuts open its stomach.
The first thing they find is the guy's mobile phone. The second thing they find is what remains of his left arm. The man himself doesn't turn up until late that night, when the searching policemen stumble across his body, lying dead of blood loss in the forest off the green.
Sunday 27 March 2011
Saturday 26 March 2011
The Jar Of Honey
A group of explorers are searching for ancient tombs in the heart of Egypt. Things are going poorly; they've made no discoveries so far, and a few of them have fallen ill. After another day absent of valuable treasure they start the short trek back to camp. Unfortunately for them, a sandstorm whips up out of nowhere and they're forced to take shelter under the nearest rock they can find.
But, once the six men have dived into cover, they realise that it's not just a rock after all. A dark stone tunnel leads down into the earth. It's exactly what they've been searching for all this time. Excitedly, they switch on their torches and head down.
At the very bottom they emerge into what can only be a treasure room. Priceless artefacts are stacked about the walls. Ecstatic at their discovery, they begin to sort through the treasure. One of them calls the others over and shows them what he's found. It's a jar of honey, still perfectly preserved after all these years. Priceless.
However, they find that the sandstorm is not about to die down anytime soon. They're stuck in the treasure room until it dies down. And they know that these things can sometimes go on for days. Still, the sit down and try to wait it out.
Hours pass, then a day, then another. They have canteens of water, but no food, and they're getting increasingly hungry. It's then that one of them suggests that they dig into the preserved honey; after all, it should still be safe, and it is a desperate time.
The others agree, and the six explorers gather round and start to eat the sweet honey with their fingers. It's delicious; all the better because they're so hungry. One of them coughs suddenly, and fishes out a hair. He chucks it aside, too hungry to care.
When they're about halfway through the jar, one of them digs his fingers into the sticky stuff and feels something solid. He reaches right in and grabs it; something round and soft. Curious, he pulls it out. The other explorers stare in horror at the dripping thing in his hand. It is a baby, dried and shrivelled, but still preserved by the honey in which it sat for those hundreds of years.
But, once the six men have dived into cover, they realise that it's not just a rock after all. A dark stone tunnel leads down into the earth. It's exactly what they've been searching for all this time. Excitedly, they switch on their torches and head down.
At the very bottom they emerge into what can only be a treasure room. Priceless artefacts are stacked about the walls. Ecstatic at their discovery, they begin to sort through the treasure. One of them calls the others over and shows them what he's found. It's a jar of honey, still perfectly preserved after all these years. Priceless.
However, they find that the sandstorm is not about to die down anytime soon. They're stuck in the treasure room until it dies down. And they know that these things can sometimes go on for days. Still, the sit down and try to wait it out.
Hours pass, then a day, then another. They have canteens of water, but no food, and they're getting increasingly hungry. It's then that one of them suggests that they dig into the preserved honey; after all, it should still be safe, and it is a desperate time.
The others agree, and the six explorers gather round and start to eat the sweet honey with their fingers. It's delicious; all the better because they're so hungry. One of them coughs suddenly, and fishes out a hair. He chucks it aside, too hungry to care.
When they're about halfway through the jar, one of them digs his fingers into the sticky stuff and feels something solid. He reaches right in and grabs it; something round and soft. Curious, he pulls it out. The other explorers stare in horror at the dripping thing in his hand. It is a baby, dried and shrivelled, but still preserved by the honey in which it sat for those hundreds of years.
Sunday 20 March 2011
The Breakdown
One dark night a boy and his girl are driving along out in the countryside. They're making good time when suddenly the car starts to sputter. The fuel light blinks. They roll to a stop at the side of the road, and try as he might the boy cannot get the engine to start again.
After a while of sitting there in the dark, the boy decides that he's going to go for help. The girl begs him not to go; after all they're out in the middle of nowhere, and he's almost bound to get lost. But the boy's already decided that he's not going to sit there all night waiting for someone to come along. So he gets out and heads off up the road to find a phone.
The girl sits on her own in the car. After a while she starts getting pretty nervous, being all alone like that. She locks the doors, but she's still scared. In the end she climbs into the back of the car, lays down across the seats and covers herself up with a coat. At least that way nobody will be able to see her.
After a long time, when it's starting to get light, the girl starts hearing noises. At first it's nothing much, a few night time rustlings, but then suddenly there's this terrible banging on the roof of the car. Someone's out there for sure, and they're hammering on the roof something crazy. The girl doesn't know what to do. She's terrified to look but she has to know what's making that noise.
Before she can make a decision either way, there's the wailing of a police siren. She sits up. Not far off there's a police cruiser, and an officer with a megaphone. He sees her, and he yells through the hailer for her to get quickly out of the car and walk towards him.
"Just walk towards me," he says, "and don't look back. Whatever you do, don't look back."
So, puzzled and scared, the girl gets out of the car and runs towards the officer. All the while she can hear the banging noise still going on behind her. But, like the officer said, she doesn't look back. At least, not until she's reached him. When she figures she's safe she turns around to see what it was making all that noise.
There's a man on the roof of her car. Long beard, filthy clothes, drooling and jumping up and down. Crazy as hell. And in one hand he's holding something which he's banging again and again on the roof of the car. She recognises the thing he's holding at once. She should do; it's her boyfriend's severed head.
After a while of sitting there in the dark, the boy decides that he's going to go for help. The girl begs him not to go; after all they're out in the middle of nowhere, and he's almost bound to get lost. But the boy's already decided that he's not going to sit there all night waiting for someone to come along. So he gets out and heads off up the road to find a phone.
The girl sits on her own in the car. After a while she starts getting pretty nervous, being all alone like that. She locks the doors, but she's still scared. In the end she climbs into the back of the car, lays down across the seats and covers herself up with a coat. At least that way nobody will be able to see her.
After a long time, when it's starting to get light, the girl starts hearing noises. At first it's nothing much, a few night time rustlings, but then suddenly there's this terrible banging on the roof of the car. Someone's out there for sure, and they're hammering on the roof something crazy. The girl doesn't know what to do. She's terrified to look but she has to know what's making that noise.
Before she can make a decision either way, there's the wailing of a police siren. She sits up. Not far off there's a police cruiser, and an officer with a megaphone. He sees her, and he yells through the hailer for her to get quickly out of the car and walk towards him.
"Just walk towards me," he says, "and don't look back. Whatever you do, don't look back."
So, puzzled and scared, the girl gets out of the car and runs towards the officer. All the while she can hear the banging noise still going on behind her. But, like the officer said, she doesn't look back. At least, not until she's reached him. When she figures she's safe she turns around to see what it was making all that noise.
There's a man on the roof of her car. Long beard, filthy clothes, drooling and jumping up and down. Crazy as hell. And in one hand he's holding something which he's banging again and again on the roof of the car. She recognises the thing he's holding at once. She should do; it's her boyfriend's severed head.
Saturday 19 March 2011
The Bite
A young girl returns from her travels abroad in South America, where she's been spending her days on an adventure tour, hacking her way through a jungle. Her family are pleased to see her, but her mother points out a worrying sore on the girl's cheek.
"Oh, don't worry about that," says the girl, "It's just a little bite."
But it's not just a bite. Over the next few weeks the wound gets worse. The girl doesn't really "believe" in going to a doctor. Instead she tries various creams and herbal applications, even homeopathy. Most important of all, she restrains herself from scratching. Sooner or later it will get better, she thinks.
So for weeks and weeks she leaves it alone, applies her creams, refrains from scratching. The wound gets worse. It turns swollen and red, and it gets itchier than ever. At last, the girl cannot stand it any longer. She reaches up and gives it a good, satisfying scratch.
But then the satisfaction gives way to pain, and she feels something slick under her fingers. She stumbles to a mirror. Blood is dripping down the side of her face. Mixed in there with it are hundreds of bright white maggots, wriggling and tumbling eagerly from the swollen flesh of her cheek.
"Oh, don't worry about that," says the girl, "It's just a little bite."
But it's not just a bite. Over the next few weeks the wound gets worse. The girl doesn't really "believe" in going to a doctor. Instead she tries various creams and herbal applications, even homeopathy. Most important of all, she restrains herself from scratching. Sooner or later it will get better, she thinks.
So for weeks and weeks she leaves it alone, applies her creams, refrains from scratching. The wound gets worse. It turns swollen and red, and it gets itchier than ever. At last, the girl cannot stand it any longer. She reaches up and gives it a good, satisfying scratch.
But then the satisfaction gives way to pain, and she feels something slick under her fingers. She stumbles to a mirror. Blood is dripping down the side of her face. Mixed in there with it are hundreds of bright white maggots, wriggling and tumbling eagerly from the swollen flesh of her cheek.
Sunday 13 March 2011
The Brewery Worker
An industrial brewery is working overtime to fill a particularly large order. All the workers are in, and the place is busier than it's ever been. The machines are humming, the tanks churning. The order's due and the trucks are waiting to go out.
At last the order is complete and the trucks are loaded. Everything's signed off and the job is done. Most of the workers head off home, exhausted, leaving just the clean-up crew to drain the remaining tanks and close up the machines for the night.
It's the line manager who first notices that something's wrong. One of the worker's hasn't signed out, but he's not part of the cleanup crew, and he's nowhere to be found. Even as he's checking with the guy's co-workers, the line manager receives a concerned call from the missing guy's wife.
"Where is he?" she asks. "He should have been home an hour ago."
Seriously worried now, the line manager starts searching the plant. He doesn't need to, though. One of the workmen comes running up to tell him. The missing guy has been found, lying drowned at the bottom of the tank. He must have fallen in hours ago, at the beginning of the shift when there were too few people around to notice.
Horrified, the line manager quickly takes control of the situation. The police are called, and he runs to the boss's office to initiate a recall. It's too late. The shipment's already been transferred, and their bottles are mixed in with all the others, on their way across the country to a thousand different stores.
At last the order is complete and the trucks are loaded. Everything's signed off and the job is done. Most of the workers head off home, exhausted, leaving just the clean-up crew to drain the remaining tanks and close up the machines for the night.
It's the line manager who first notices that something's wrong. One of the worker's hasn't signed out, but he's not part of the cleanup crew, and he's nowhere to be found. Even as he's checking with the guy's co-workers, the line manager receives a concerned call from the missing guy's wife.
"Where is he?" she asks. "He should have been home an hour ago."
Seriously worried now, the line manager starts searching the plant. He doesn't need to, though. One of the workmen comes running up to tell him. The missing guy has been found, lying drowned at the bottom of the tank. He must have fallen in hours ago, at the beginning of the shift when there were too few people around to notice.
Horrified, the line manager quickly takes control of the situation. The police are called, and he runs to the boss's office to initiate a recall. It's too late. The shipment's already been transferred, and their bottles are mixed in with all the others, on their way across the country to a thousand different stores.
Saturday 12 March 2011
The Vanishing Hitchhiker
A doctor is driving home from work one night along a deserted highway. At the side of the road the doctor sees a lost-looking girl, dressed in a blue coat. She's hitchhiking. Taking pity, the doctor stops and picks her up. The front seat is taken up by his briefcase and medical bag, so the girl clambers into the back.
"Where are you headed?" he asks her. She tells him her address. It's not a big detour, and so the doctor decides he'll take her all the way.
"What are you doing out here all on your own?" he asks as he drives, but the girl just shakes her head.
"It's a long story," she says. The doctor figures that she doesn't want to talk about it, and so he doesn't press the issue. He drives all the way to the address she gave, then pulls up at the side of the road.
"Well," he says, turning around. "Here we are."
To his surprise, the girl is gone. All that remains is her blue coat, folded neatly on the back seat. Now the doctor knows it would be impossible for her to leave the car without him noticing, but what other explanation can there be? Maybe she just slipped out quickly and ran off? Whatever happened, she forgot her coat. The Doctor grabs it off the back seat and walks up to the door where the girl said she lived. He rings the bell.
The door is eventually opened by an old, grey-haired man. The doctor holds out the coat and explains what has happened, but halfway through his explanation the man starts shaking his head.
"What's wrong?" asks the doctor.
The man sighs. "The girl you picked up was my daughter, yes," he says. "And that is her coat. This has happened before, too many times. You see, my daughter is dead. She died three years ago. She was hit by a car at the very place where you picked her up."
"Where are you headed?" he asks her. She tells him her address. It's not a big detour, and so the doctor decides he'll take her all the way.
"What are you doing out here all on your own?" he asks as he drives, but the girl just shakes her head.
"It's a long story," she says. The doctor figures that she doesn't want to talk about it, and so he doesn't press the issue. He drives all the way to the address she gave, then pulls up at the side of the road.
"Well," he says, turning around. "Here we are."
To his surprise, the girl is gone. All that remains is her blue coat, folded neatly on the back seat. Now the doctor knows it would be impossible for her to leave the car without him noticing, but what other explanation can there be? Maybe she just slipped out quickly and ran off? Whatever happened, she forgot her coat. The Doctor grabs it off the back seat and walks up to the door where the girl said she lived. He rings the bell.
The door is eventually opened by an old, grey-haired man. The doctor holds out the coat and explains what has happened, but halfway through his explanation the man starts shaking his head.
"What's wrong?" asks the doctor.
The man sighs. "The girl you picked up was my daughter, yes," he says. "And that is her coat. This has happened before, too many times. You see, my daughter is dead. She died three years ago. She was hit by a car at the very place where you picked her up."
Sunday 6 March 2011
The Blind Man
One day, not long after the end of World War Two, a young girl meets a blind man in the street. They get to talking, and after a while the blind man asks the girl if she could possibly do a favour for him. He needs a letter delivered by hand to an address in the town, but is having difficulty finding his way around. Perhaps she could deliver it for him?
Of course, the girl agrees. She takes the letter and sets off, but as she's about to leave the square she looks back and sees the blind man making his was hurriedly away through the crowd. Stranger still, he's now moving completely without the aid of his cane.
Suspicious, the girl takes the letter to the police. Several officers head to the address on the envelope. The door is opened by a grey-haired man who, on seeing the police at his door, dives past them and tries to make a run for it. He is arrested, and the police proceed to search the house.
Inside, in the basement, they discover an ice-box filled with bags of shredded meat. Lots of it. Is the man a butcher? A hunter? They burrow deeper into the ice-box. There at the bottom, wrapped in greaseproof paper is the body of a young girl.
It turns out the guy was a trader in human meat. He's taken away to jail. It's only later on that one of the officers thinks to open the envelope that the young girl gave them, the one that tipped them off in the first place. He slits it open. Inside is a handwritten note, saying simply: "This is the last one I'll deliver to you this week. Make her last."
Of course, the girl agrees. She takes the letter and sets off, but as she's about to leave the square she looks back and sees the blind man making his was hurriedly away through the crowd. Stranger still, he's now moving completely without the aid of his cane.
Suspicious, the girl takes the letter to the police. Several officers head to the address on the envelope. The door is opened by a grey-haired man who, on seeing the police at his door, dives past them and tries to make a run for it. He is arrested, and the police proceed to search the house.
Inside, in the basement, they discover an ice-box filled with bags of shredded meat. Lots of it. Is the man a butcher? A hunter? They burrow deeper into the ice-box. There at the bottom, wrapped in greaseproof paper is the body of a young girl.
It turns out the guy was a trader in human meat. He's taken away to jail. It's only later on that one of the officers thinks to open the envelope that the young girl gave them, the one that tipped them off in the first place. He slits it open. Inside is a handwritten note, saying simply: "This is the last one I'll deliver to you this week. Make her last."
Saturday 5 March 2011
The Cactus
The friend of a young woman has just returned from a trip overseas, and has brought with her a collection of gifts. The friend knows that the woman is very interested in plants and botany, and so she's made a special effort and brought the woman a rare type of cactus. Soon after her return they meet up, and the woman is delighted with her gift. She places it proudly on the mantelpiece.
A few weeks pass. The woman duly looks after her new cactus, watering it occasionally, and making sure it gets enough sun to grow. Then one day she notices something strange about it. She's not entirely certain, but it looks as though the skin of the cactus is moving very slightly. It's bulging out in some places, shifting.
Worried, the woman calls up her friend and tells her what she saw. The friend is deeply alarmed. "I've heard of this happening before," she tells the woman. "You've got to get it out of the house, quickly."
The woman wastes no time. She grabs the cactus and carries it outside. She's only just set it down in her garden when the plant bursts open. Something shiny and black pours out in a tide. At first it looks like liquid, but then the woman sees that it's moving, and she realises that it is in fact thousands and thousands of tiny scorpions.
A few weeks pass. The woman duly looks after her new cactus, watering it occasionally, and making sure it gets enough sun to grow. Then one day she notices something strange about it. She's not entirely certain, but it looks as though the skin of the cactus is moving very slightly. It's bulging out in some places, shifting.
Worried, the woman calls up her friend and tells her what she saw. The friend is deeply alarmed. "I've heard of this happening before," she tells the woman. "You've got to get it out of the house, quickly."
The woman wastes no time. She grabs the cactus and carries it outside. She's only just set it down in her garden when the plant bursts open. Something shiny and black pours out in a tide. At first it looks like liquid, but then the woman sees that it's moving, and she realises that it is in fact thousands and thousands of tiny scorpions.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)