Read Weirder Than Weird Online
Authors: Francis Burger
Tags: #Horror, #Thriller, #Suspense, #Mystery
Weirder Than Weird
“WEIRDER THAN WEIRD”
18 Bizarre Tales From A Disturbed Mind
By FRANCIS BURGER
© 2012 Francis Burger
All rights reserved worldwide
For My Brothers And Sisters
pax vobiscum
If you’re like me you love the short story. A few years ago, for whatever reason, I had a bunch of crazy stories flow into my head, from God knows where, and get stuck there like some log jammed river. The pressure begged release and in an attempt to save some semblance of my sanity (
what little I had
) I finally decided to get them down on paper. “WEIRDER THAN WEIRD” is the result.
As a kid, I loved the classic TV shows such as: The Twighlight Zone, The Outer Limits and The Night Gallery. I was totally hooked on their semi-dark themes and quirky nature. I suppose this is where my strange taste in stories originates from.
I don’t quite know how to describe my own stories other than to say they are like camp fire stories for adults. For the most part, this collection leans toward the dark and creepy but there are also a few goofy tales of fantasy within that I think help to take the edge off.
This is my first and quite possibly the only fantasy book of stories that I’ll ever write. As I stated in the beginning, I just had a bunch of whacky stories flowing around in my head that needed to be expressed. For me, these stories are really just an exercise in imagination. I can’t guarantee you a reading experience on the par with Stephen King but I can guarantee you that you are about to read a bunch of truly original tales that are unlike anything you have ever read before.
I should mention also that I’ve added two more stories to this collection at the last minute, so you’ll be getting twenty stories in all. The book cover reads eighteen. I didn’t want you to think I counted wrong, it’s just that, in all honesty, I’m too lazy to redo the book cover.
So without further - adieu…I leave you to your reading, and a few timeless and appropriate words from Monty Python…
“NOW FOR SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT!”
It was the typical wedding ceremony followed by the typical reception, only, what would transpire in the next few minutes, no sane person would ever dare call typical.
The bride and groom decided, at the last second, to open the wedding gifts before leaving for their much anticipated honeymoon vacation in Hawaii. A most unusual box among a multitude of others heaped upon the gift table caught the bride’s eye. It was decorated in silver-white moon shapes and blue stars and had a number of odd, indecipherable phrases written on it that looked to be Greek or Latin or some other obscure and pompous language. She read the small tag on the top of the box and a happy smile radiated across her pretty young face. “It’s from Aunt Sophie!” she exclaimed to the drunken guests who now crowded around the table to watch the unveiling.
Standing close by, the mother of the bride rolled her eyes then turned to her best friend who was eagerly sucking on a sloe gin fizz.
“No telling what could be in that box.” She commented with a slight slur. “That damn sister of mine just couldn’t take a few precious minutes out of her busy schedule to make it to her own nieces wedding. Oh, no, that would be far too bothersome for her majesty, the witch queen! She’s probably, at this very moment, in some remote part of the world tracking down some…some bat wing or God knows what weird ingredient for one of her whacky potions.”
The woman paused and took a long swallow of something green in a tall glass, then burped.
“More likely, she’s getting cuddly with a local witchdoctor somewhere, trading incantations and… God knows what else.” This made her laugh. “Am I right Belinda or am I right?”
Her friend returned a nod in solidarity and mumbled something that sounded like witch, but wasn’t, then refocused once again on her drink.
The bride removed the lid from the box and pulled out, of all things, a long stemmed silver chalice. It was richly engraved in nude figures and mystic symbols and encircled at the top with green and red gems. A few people laughed out loud at the sight of what they thought was a foolish and impractical gift. “Now there’s something you don’t see every day!” said the groom with a smile, trying in his own way not to seem too impolite. Inside the goblet was a rolled up note that the bride proceeded to read to the crowd.
“It says… Dear Niece, this magical gift is specially made for you. Be wise in your choosing, for it allows one wish to be fulfilled and one wish only. Just state your desire then immediately drink from the cup. Aunt Sophie.”
The bride turned to the groom and shrugged her shoulders. “Why not give it a whirl,” he said with a wink, “what’s to lose?” The guests shouted their approval. With that, the groom popped open another bottle of champagne. The cork rocketed into the crowd and a few game drunks immediately clamored for its retrieval, comically falling over one another as though it was a second wedding bouquet being tossed by the bride. Everyone laughed. The groom poured the champagne into the chalice, filling it halfway then presented it t
o his bride with a slight bow.
“Here’s your chalice my lady. Your wish awaits.”
The bride took the chalice in hand with a giggle then turned toward the eager faces. “If I could have just one wish…I…ah…” She paused before going on and her eyes suddenly filled with tears. “If I could have just…one…wish, it would be that my father could be here to share this very special day with me.” She then drank from the cup.
There was a collective sigh acknowledging the beauty of the sentiment and a few sniffles could be heard, but a few seconds later a raucous crashing of dishes suddenly exploded from somewhere in back causing everyone to jump. All eyes focused upon the kitchen from where a number of blood curdling screams now issued forth. The double doors swung open. A black and moldering figure in a
wrinkled suit and tie stepped through and ambled its way on unsteady legs toward the bride. The reek of decaying flesh hung heavy in the air as the figure raised both arms to embrace the terror stricken bride.
“Hello, Princessssss…” came a whisper from its cadaverous mouth; the weakened words, barely audible as foul air escaped through its worm-bored lungs. A stream of wriggling maggots dribbled from its nose and mouth, cascading to the floor in a gruesome pantomime of wedding rice. The utter horror of it all momentarily quieted the guests and in those few brief moments of silence, the bride’s eyes softened with sudden recognition. She yelled out in a most tender and loving voice, “DADDY!”
THE PRICE OF AN ACQUIRED TASTE
“The doctor will see you now, Ms. Williams,” said the receptionist, not looking up from her paperwork. “Just go right in.”
A heavyset woman gave an audible grunt and with much difficulty got up from where she was sitting and waddled her way through the office door. Once on the other side, she was struck in the face by the sudden rise in temperature.
“Please have a seat, Ms. Williams. I’ll be with you in a moment,” came a deep voice behind a chair facing the opposite wall.
The woman shuffled her way to the couch and plopped her hefty frame down hard upon the leather cushion; the air forced out by the impact made a sound as if a large animal in the throes of death had expelled its final breath. The woman looked around the room and batted away beads of sweat from her meaty face.
The office was modern in appearance but the room was dimly lit; the only light coming from two ornate wall sconces that held solitary candles on either side of a large round wall clock. It was exactly one p.m. and in her mind she congratulated herself for being on time. It was a rare occasion that someone wasn’t waiting impatiently for her to arrive somewhere. She sniffed the air and thought, “Something smells just like…”
“Sorry to keep you waiting Ms. Williams, let’s get right into it shall we?” the doctor said, spinning his chair around to face her. A thin elderly man stared back at her with dark penetrating eyes, his features held a grimly pallor, fully lacking in color and unencumbered by the slightest bit of hair except for a dark goatee that jutted pointedly from his chin.
“Now what seems to be your problem Ms. Williams?” he asked perfunctorily as he scribbled something into an open folder.
“Well…to be quite honest…” She stopped suddenly and gave a quizzical look. “Am I supposed to be lying down or something?”
The doctor glared back at her and, with a tinge of annoyance in his voice, replied, “Whatever makes you more comfortable, Ms. Williams.”
She maneuvered her enormous frame like an animal mired in mud but eventually gained a reclining position. Satisfied, she crossed her arms upon her chest and let out a deep sigh from her efforts.
“Comfy now, are we, Ms. Williams? Good!” the doctor said, not giving her time to respond. “I must tell you that I am an extremely busy man. I think it will make things easier on us both if we can get to the crux of your problem right away.” He then glanced at the folder on his desk, “It says here that you’ve been having trouble sleeping at night.” He paused and looked over at her, “Let me be blunt, Ms. Williams… I think your problem really lies in the fact that you are hiding a terrible secret from the rest of the world… the likes of which are gnawing away at your very soul, thereby causing this annoying lack of sleep. Am I correct in this assumption?”
The woman couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Now see here, doctor!”
“Please tell me where I’m wrong, my dear lady!” he interjected, cutting her off. He stared back at her with a mischievous grin awaiting her reply but she seemed frozen by his words, like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car, void of any response partly because of her anger and partly because of his not-so-wrong assessment. “Right!” he shouted once again, forcefully slamming his hand down hard upon his desk. “Ms. Williams… since time is a factor, let me tell you a bit of what I do know about you…
“When you were about nine years of age and just a mere shadow of your present monstrosity you found yourself at the doorstep of a most uniquely disturbed individual, your Aunt Martha. Your mother, who was obviously the epitome’ of womanly virtue, left you with her just before she ran off with a traveling vacuum salesman. Your Aunt was certainly poor by any definition but not without means when it came to providing sustenance for you. On occasion, she procured from a number of sources a most abhorrent and morally repugnant form of food for you both to partake in, one in which you quickly found an addiction for… wouldn’t you say, Ms. Williams?”
The doctor looked over at her but she remained deathly quiet.
“Now let me see… as I remember, you couldn’t quite get enough of that divine and succulent delicacy, you would beseech that poor unbalanced woman at all times of the day for the dish that you had become so enamored with, the taste that… shall we say… drove you mad with desire!
“Of course, in the beginning you were certainly not aware of what it was you were ingesting, at least not at first. You did, however, have an opportunity for redemption and could have fled that charnel nightmare of a house once you discovered its true nature but that wasn’t to be, in fact, you accepted your discovery with a kind of indifference, I think it’s fair to say. Do you remember coming home early from school on that particular day, Ms. Williams? Your Aunt must have been running errands because she was nowhere to be found, but that familiar heavenly aroma wafted throughout the house and once again your mouth began to water uncontrollably. You made your way to the kitchen and peered into the oven. The thing roasting away inside was… well… let’s just say it wasn’t chicken!”
The doctor laughed out loud and paused once again to check the woman’s reaction, but she was still unresponsive, her face only held the same blank stare that he was all too familiar with.
“It would, of course, be reasonable to assume that most
normal
people would have reacted in a repulsive fashion after seeing such a sight but you my dear lady only shrugged your young shoulders and didn’t give it another thought. I suppose that in the back of your mind you probably suspected what the mystery meat was all along since every so often you would find a tiny knitted booty or small blanket disposed of in the trash. As for the rest of your adult life… well, I must say Ms. Williams, I am quite impressed by the fact that you have been able to keep your exotic tastes a secret all these years and your resourcefulness at acquiring such delicacies is quite impressive to say the least. You were obviously taught very well! I would go into detail but there really is no point, besides, to be honest with you… I am quite bored by it all!”
He closed the folder and tossed it on the couch with her.
“I’m afraid your session is now over, my dear…after all these years…payment has finally come due!”
“Pure gibberish!” she managed to blurt out, finally awakening from her shocked induced stupor. “How dare you! What kind of doctor are you anyway, making those… those … horrible accusations! I’ll see to it that you are disbarred or whatever it is they do to rid people of quacks like you!”
She looked up at the clock on the wall; only five minutes had passed since she first came into the office. She struggled to sit upright but was as helpless as a beached whale.
“And another thing!” she added angrily, “I’ll be damned if I pay one cent for this farce of a session! Doctor indeed!”
He shook his head and smiled. “Yes, Ms. Williams, you most certainly will pay… and as for your being damned…”
At that moment, the couch that she was lying upon began sinking slowly downward.
“What the hell is going on!” she screamed, her fingers clinching tight to the cushion in a vise like grip.
“Exactly, Ms. Williams!” laughed the doctor. “You certainly have hit the nail on the head!”
The dark shadows of the office walls disappeared and were now aglow with the burning hues of yellow, red, and orange as flames licked and curled their way around the sides of the couch. A legion of charred and broken hands appeared from the depths and clawed at the elephantine figure helplessly reposed there. Her face was contorted in a fantastic arrangement of horror and in one last desperate plea she managed to shout out, “But… but… I still have 55 minutes left!” before she disappeared into the abyss.
Ten minutes had passed and once again a new patient entered the doctor’s office. A wiry tattooed figure stepped through the door and looked around.
“Take a seat, Mr. Kupchak,” came a voice behind a turned office chair.
The man sat down on the couch and immediately raised his hands, the leather for some reason was uncomfortably hot to touch and he could detect a lingering hint of sulfur in the air. A moment later the office chair spun around and the old man sitting there began to write into an open folder. What appeared to be a wisp of smoke rose from his head as he looked up with a most diabolical grin and said, “Now Mr. Kupchak, time is running short today… what say we just cut to the chase shall we? So… just how many people
did
you actually murder last Friday?”
The man’s fingers nervously found their way to his shirt collar, he stretched it out and swallowed hard.