Thomas Baker was indeed one of the world’s pessimists. A gaunt fellow in need of some food, clean clothes and a mighty good shave. And a dose of luck. Through a series of misfortunes, Tom Baker had lost everything: his wife, house, job, car and children. Who could blame him for his lack of optimism. I don’t. But the day was coming when his run of bad luck would all change.
In the busy shopping town of Newquey, Tom found his regular spot between a supermarket and a department store. Making himself comfortable – as comfortable as one can be sitting on a concrete floor – he began his desperate mantra to the shoppers: “Please spare me some change, please?”.
A few hours later, with little more than £1.50, Tom was despondent, depressed and dejected. Just as he was about to get up with his measly pennies a voice brought him out of his stupor. He looked up to find an elderly, kind face looking down at him. The man was dressed almost like a Priest, Tom thought. The man had Tom’s attention. And began to share a Secret with him.
Tom wanted proof. Proof that what the man had told him was true. That he could get back everything he had lost, and more. All he had to do was go to some Church situated behind some bend on some avenue somewhere up the road and pray at its altar. Tom thought he knew this town: he’d never seen this Church nor got the scoop from anyone else that it existed. But, Tom had nothing to lose and so began to follow the priests directions on the scrap of paper in his hand.
Reaching the location, there was indeed a Church and Tom wondered how he’d never seen it before. Okay it’s obscured and a little small, but surely he would have heard of it. Shrugging, he pushes the door open and enters.
Now, The kind Priest is in fact a collector. He takes souls from those who have done wrong in their life. And Tom had done plenty wrong.
He cheated on his Wife, continually. Set fire to his house for an insurance payout, incinerating the dogs in the process. Assaulted his boss causing internal bleeding, a head trauma and broken ribs (and, naturally, was sacked). Crashed his car deliberately for insurance money and severely injured an elderly couple . And he ignored his children their whole young lives. The circumstances he is now in was all of his own doing. And deserves no pity.
He was approaching the altar and getting ready to pray, when the priest stepped out from, to Tom, what seemed like nowhere. “I need you to sign this before you pray”, the Priest told him. Tom signed, not even reading it. He just wanted to get on with getting his life back regardless of the detriment it would cause his family especially. He simply didn’t care.
Folding the papers into his pocket, the Priest mumbled a few words then clapped his hands once.
Tom immediately found himself in his bed, in his home, laying next to his wife. It worked, he thought excitedly, it bloody worked! Hang on, this feels real, he said to himself now thinking it was a bad dream he just had.
But the house? Why is it still standing? Why are the dogs alive and growling at me? Why is my boss also in the bed cuddling my wife? Why are the children just standing there wielding knives? He didn’t understand.
Then his wife stirred. “Hello Dear. Guess what? This is where your real nightmare begins. Welcome to your very own personal Hell and kissed his cheek. Then she and the others turned into The Black Demons – from Hell.
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Hello! 🙂 I am soooo glad to have got this story written. I nearly quit when the brain-fog began to enter. It was great to finally finish it.
The Prompt is from a newly found Weekly Writing Challenge I discovered over at Jennifer Kiley’s ‘Secret Keeper’ blog. Click here to check it out. 5 words are given each Monday to weave any type of Poem or Flash piece. The 5 words for this week (#56) are -Proof-Share-Secret-Bend-Scoop. And here is the posts direct link.
And, as always, Thank you very much for reading and come back again soon! 🙂