Aardvark Posted February 23, 2003 Report Share Posted February 23, 2003 (edited) The death of an innocent, as many are aware, can result in that innocent's enraged soul returning to the world of the living in the form of a ghost, spectre, poltergeist, Doppelganger, banshee, whatever. The point is they come back with murderous intent. Mostly against the one who took their lives, but once in a while against life in general. No proper explanation for this phenomena has ever been produced, other than whoever created life put a few clauses, catches and a lot of fineprint in the grand contract. But none ever realised they weren't the only creatures with enraged souls... A pizza shop. That's where I work. I enjoy my work. Pay is hideous, but the conditions are good and I've got rank enough to boss all the goddamn midgets around, so I'm happy there. But I'm mostly roistered on during the day, when all good people are at work and the rest of the scum out there are still sleeping off their metho induced hangovers from the night before. Not a busy shift, infact sometimes quite boring. But there is, as always, work to be done. Dough must be made, toppings and sauce must be prepped and the occasional schoolkiddie skipping classes to serve. As I wander around the new oversized coolroom, large enough to comfortably store everything we need and house a 4 player game of poker, I notice something missing. Bacon. We're out of bacon. I sigh and head off in the direction of the freezer In the nether, a turmoil of screaming souls, trapped for eternity, a single sound is born. Plucked from the ethereal mind of a floating consciousness, it takes flight through the maelstrom. Centuries of hardship and injustice fuel it's flight, adding momentum. Other souls reach out and try to hold on, seeing their only escape from this hell, but they're repelled by forces unknown. As it builds up power, it breaks through the barrier between life and unlife with a barely audible "Oink". A cloud of frost engulfs me as I open the freezer. With a slight cough, I begin delving through the various products stored here. Sundried tomatoes... potato wedges...calamari... ahh, here we go. Buried in the bottom of the freezer was what I was after. One box, twelve kilograms (About 25 pounds for all the mutants, misfits and miscreants out there) of A grade bacon. I haul the box out and carry it into the cool room. The entity is free. It can sense life all around... life... It's memory fires up flashes from it's on life. Memories that stir a deep rage within. It wasn't just a single creature that had died and created the entity, it was an entire species, constantly adding to the thing's power. It had reached the point, that point that all creations reach eventually, of sentience. It was aware of itself, aware of how it'd been created, aware of the creatures who had cast it into that cacophonic hell. And it was angry. Ooooh, they would pay. It was being drawn to one of them now. This one would be the first. I dropped the box onto a bench in the coolroom and went to find the date gun. Handy little device for telling people when food is still edible and when it's only fit for throwing out. 7 days, that's all we give our meat before it goes in the bin. I set the date gun and prepare to refill the bacon tray. It was being drawn to the box. It could sense it's own remains... part of it's remains inside, calling to it. A beacon in the darkness. Pulling it closer... into the old, frozen flesh that once belonged to it. Opening a box was simple. They're taped shut with weak packing tape, so all you need to do is create a small gap, get your finger under and pull. It all comes off. 9 months, I'd been doing it this way. Place my thumb on the end of the box, just under the lid, press in, rip off, all done in under half a second. I could open a hundred boxes in... umm... 50 seconds. I place my thumb, breathe and press with far too much strength than is necessary. It felt the warmth of the murderer and hardened. Solid. CRACK. For an instant I froze. Then I screamed bloody murder. My thumb had been bent back at a painful angle. Really painful. I ran from the coolroom to the first aid kit. Opening the kit, I begin rifling through it, in search of an instant icepack. To my horror, I find none. Our brand new medkit isn't even properly stocked. I rush back into the coolroom to find something, fast. Prawns. A bag of frozen prawns. Freshly pulled out of the freezer, thawing for the evening. Onto my thumb they go. Instant relief. Then I begin to panic. What had I done? How bad was it? How much work would I miss because of it? How was I going to pay the medical bills? If it had a face, it would've smirked. Strike one for the swine of the world, living in captivity. This one would tell others and soon they would all know and live in fear of the undead swine avenger... hmmm... maybe not. PigGhost? nah.... it'd have to work on the name. But it had struck the first in a series of decisive blows against the oppressor. It would free it's captive brethren and lead them to a life that would avoid the hellpit that had spawned it. Here I lie, keyboard on lap, onehandedly typing this story. My left hand in a splint, keeping my thumb still while the ligaments heal up. Two weeks out of action, I'm told. Money shouldn't be a problem, as laws were passed to cover me in the event of stupidity at work. Even the work I miss won't hurt me, because of the same laws. But I still replay the event in my mind. What happened? Are my bones that weak? I freeze. What was that? In the background. Almost out of earshot... was that... an unearthly... Oink? Edited February 24, 2003 by Aardvark Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Archaneus Posted February 23, 2003 Report Share Posted February 23, 2003 Heheheheheheh. Great. I liked how you made it seem like the spirit was really important, th way you described it's escpae from the Nether realm and all that and then it turned out being pig spirits! Great job. Mwuahahahahah. Don't worry, you didn't drive me insane I this just drew it out. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Peredhil Posted February 23, 2003 Report Share Posted February 23, 2003 Hugs I'm sorry you hurt your hand. Or the Pigtergeist did. Or which ever. A hand injury really can set you back badly in an virtual social life. That said... That story was great. The build, the focus, the climatic vengeance! Really well done. AND funny. Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
The Portrait of Zool Posted February 24, 2003 Report Share Posted February 24, 2003 Wait a minute - didn't you say you hurt your thumb? Isn't the thumb only used for one thing - and you have two of them??? You oinker! Hehe - love your story! Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Loki Wyrd Posted January 13, 2004 Report Share Posted January 13, 2004 Lovely story, very dramatic. How's the thumb nowadays? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Aardvark Posted January 14, 2004 Author Report Share Posted January 14, 2004 Two thumbs up, one slightly crooked Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Loki Wyrd Posted January 14, 2004 Report Share Posted January 14, 2004 Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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