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| I had fun with a clip art program yesterday morning. |
*Reader Warning*
This story is based on a true story
that contains foul language, and suggestive violence and sexual situations.
"Mystery Caller Halloween Revenge"
By Stacey L. Bolin
Based on a true story
Copyright 10/22/2012
For a week, Michael had been getting
voiceless calls on both his cell phone and his house phone. He put the
possibilities of foul play at bay with the thought that everyone has a number
they accidentally dial. Michael always referred this to a Butt call. You know,
when you put your phone in your pocket or someplace that can bump the number
panels, the phone could call again without the owner of the phone knowing
unless they check their call history. Yet in the back of his mind, one question
plagued him - he could understand either his cell phone or his house phone, but
both getting calls like this? "It's got to be more than just a
coincidence," he thought. Then he
remembered an old girlfriend that was bitter that the relationship never
blossomed into anything long term, and he pondered, would she do something like
this? - Oh yes she would and then some. Now he was completely bugged by the
fact that a woman, who envisioned marriage, mortgage payments, and kids, after
one of night sex, could now be a whole different kind of problem in his life.
Not to say that there was anything wrong with people getting married and all
the other stuff that comes with it. He just realized that it was not what he
wanted for his life at that time, and decided to part ways.
Being a 24 year old single man had its perks,
but it also came with lulls. The perks, freedom to do what he wished, sleep
with whom he wished, and party as long as he wished. The lulls were coming home
to an empty house at the end of the day. The scent of a home cooked meal,
absent when he walks in the front door, and most importantly - that special
some to kiss good-night and have fall asleep in his arms. Non-the-less, at this
time, he was a single man
By the end of the week, Michael was relieved
the weekend was here as he was ready to engage in something wild and crazy.
Anything was better than working a 12 hour shift. Like clockwork, every third
Friday, which usually fell on a pay-day, only guys from the company, both
married and single, would go out to the local sports bar to blow off some
steam. For the married men of the group,
they told their wives it was a form of necessary "occupational
therapy" to help them regroup so they would be ready for the next work
week. For the guys who were lucky enough
to be single, they looked forward to meeting the beautiful women who also
graced this place. To them it was - “I'm
Gonna Get Some" night. Michael was quick to get the jobs done that he been
assigned for the day, in spite of the constant distraction of his thoughts on
what this Friday night had in store for him. When it was time to clock out, he
grabbed his gear, jumped into his truck, and swiftly headed home to get cleaned
up. As he drove, his cell phone rang and displayed on the screen unknown name
unknown number, yet he still answered it as his friends do this all the time to
him when they call.
"Dang those call blocker applications,"
he said with frustration as he went to answer the phone. "Hello?"
There was no reply, yet he could hear something in this call that he had not
heard before in the last voiceless calls - this time someone was breathing on
the other end.
"Hello? I don't know who you are, but
you better knock this shit off!" Clearly he had had enough.
"I'm watching you!" replied a much
distorted monstrous monotone voice.
"Come again!?" Michael shouted.
"I'm watching you!" and then the
phone went silent.
He threw his phone down on the seat of his
truck, cursing and cussing the unknown caller for disrupting his life once
again. It was clear that it was not his old girl friend unless she was taking
large doses of testosterone pills or something; the voice was way too deep that
couldn't even be accomplished by the best female actress. The traffic was
rather congested and slow as snails at times, giving him plenty of opportunity
to try to provide his sporadic thoughts some type of answer.
As he finally turned onto the road where his
home was, a black cat ran across the street, nearly being struck by Michael’s
truck. "Dang Cat, Good thing you have nine lives as you almost spent them
all in one place!" He yelled out to himself, followed by a laugh. He
thought it was funny.
Now Michael had never be the superstitious type of person,
but shortly after pulling into his drive way, the hairs on the back of his neck
felt like there were standing straight up as an icy chill raced over him. “Snap
out of it dude, it was just a cat.” He said to himself as he shook his head. “This
is nuts.” He then grabbed his gear, locked his truck and went into the house.
His excitement about going out tonight was all but lost, because some jerk
wanted to make crank calls and it was really pissing him off.
He turned on the music channel and was immediately
taken in by the sensual video sights and musical beat of the song Zydrate
Anatomy. (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aVTAf4FAXaU&feature=related).
As he sat there almost in a stare as he watch the television, his cell phone rang again, stinging him
with a quick jolt of fear.
“This better not be another crank call,” He
screamed. He was at his breaking limit when he saw that the phone again
displayed unknown name, unknown number. “What the hell do you want?” he said in
a pissed off voice when he answered the phone.
“I see I am really driving you crazy.” Declared
the distorted voice.
“What is your damn problem you sick f**K!?”
“You want to see sick, take a look outside in
your front yard – I’m watching you!” The horrific voice revealed then broke
into the most sinister laughter.
When Michael got up and walked over to look
out his front window, there in his yard stood a dark shadowy figure. Between the
intenseness of the music playing and seeing someone standing in his front yard
that had been harassing him all week, triggered his senses to immediately begin
bursting into overload and had him ready to open a can of whoop-ass.
“You think you scare me mother-F**ker! I have
a house full of guns! You think I’m afraid of you! Come on, knock on my door!”
Michaels anger was become more of a revengeful rage.
Just then the shadowy figure displayed a
handgun from his waistband. “See what I got Michael, I could take you out with
one shot.”
“OK Bitch – Your mine!” Michael replied
fearlessly. He put his phone in his pocket and he grabbed a 12 gage shot gun
that he had in his gun cabinet and came out of his house just in time to see
the unknown shadowy figure jump into a waiting car and then they sped off down
to road – not knowing that the way they chose to drive would lead them to a
dead end. They didn’t know that Michaels’ home was the last one on the street.
Michael jumped into his truck, slamming it
into reverse as he stomped onto the gas pedal. The sound of squealing tires and
blue smoke filled the air. Then he threw his truck into drive and again stomped
on the gas. He was going to make his anger known; nobody was going to threaten
him, especially on his property. He saw the tail lights of the car followed by
break lights and then back up lights. Clearly the car was trying to turn
around. Michael let the car get turned around then he slammed on the breaks as
he turned the steering wheel causing his truck to block the oncoming car. The car never moved when Michael jumped out
of his truck and stepped out into the illumination of the car headlights in the
center of the road waiting for the passengers - who at that time chose not to get out.
Michael then lifted his gun and pointed in
the direction of the windshield and with a fiery rage in his voice, ordered
the both the driver and the passenger to get out of the car or he was going to
light it up.
“Michael – Hey man it’s just us! Don’t shoot!”
pleaded a voice that sounded familiar to him.
Still keeping his shot gun raised he once
again ordered them to get out of the car. Slowly both doors opened and the two
men in the car got out with their hands in the air.
“Michael – It’s me Frank!”
“Frank?”
“Dude, put the gun down! We just wanted to
get you back for your Halloween Prank from last year when you made it look like
you had Hilti nailed your hand to a wall.”
“Who’s with you?”
“Jake”
Michael could not believe that he had been
the recipient of quite an elaborate prank. He lowered his shot gun as his
buddies came over and gave him a great big pat on the back.
“Man, I thought sure you were going to blast
my windshield out.” Jake said trying to hide the fact that he nearly wet his
pants.
“Yeah, dude, when I saw you come storming out
of your house with that steel beauty, I knew we’d gone a bit too far with all of this.”
“You think” said Michael in a smartass tone
of voice. “But you know what guys; you should know me better than that. Anyone
who really knows me knows that my guns are for admiring, the craftsmanship is too
beautiful to mess up with gun powder residue and shit.”
“It’s not loaded?” Frank questioned.
“Nope”
They all stood there and had one big laugh
and then decided that it was time to head out to the sports bar – they all
could use a drink after living through this crazy prank.
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