The Taxidermist (standard:horror, 1975 words)
Author: Michael Lance Kersting	Added: Apr 02 2009	Views/Reads: 3905/3152	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
All McGregor, author, wanted was a quiet place to write his stories.

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story


‘I will give you your receipt later, She said pocketing the cash, "Now
would you please follow me." 

He took up his luggage and followed her up a short, creaky stairway,
down a long narrow corridor, to a room marked 3 on it's door. 

She handed him a key, smiled, and said, "Tea will be served at four
o'clock , I hope you have a pleasant stay”" 

McGregor thanked her and went into the room, which was a big chamber
with a bathroom off to the side. The bed, centered in the room, was 
enormous with a tall gilded headboard decorated with a pair of angels 
facing each other. The gold paint had dimmed, and the angels had 
cracked wings. There was also a huge dresser with a huge mirror with 
decorative moulding "A bit old fashioned, but impressive." he thought 
impressed. He always had a yen for Victorian stuff. 

After a cold shower and a change of clothing, he decided to take a nap. 

Later, at tea, and sitting across from the landlady, he said" I can't
help noticing all the stuffed animals around, ma'am. Are you a 
collector?" 

"No, Mr McGregor, I was a taxidermist before I retired." She sighed. 

"And what do you do, may I ask ?" she inquired. 

"I am a writer." he replied proudly. 

"Oh, really?" She said looking impressed. "What kind of writing do you
do?" 

"Mostly fiction," He replied quietly," " Horror and Science fiction" 

"Oh, that must be fascinating, creating all those scary situations?" 

"Well, it does have it's bright spots, but it's truly a lot of hard work
and I like to give my fans a little jolt of terror “ he smiled. 

"Nothing worthwhile ever comes easy. "she said looking steadily at him. 

"I was wondering, Mrs. Robinson, I noticed that there were two other
tenants , a Frank Owens, the name sounds familiar, wasn't he the famous 
Archaeologist who disappeared a couple years go?" 

Her face clouded a bit. 

"Yes, actually, Mr. Owens is a tenant of mine,” She paused “ He is still
with us." 

"Really ? "replied McGregor, a bit of excitement building up in him 

"Yes, but he's a very private person and do not like to be disturbed, He
likes to keep to himself, and I respect my tenants wishes'. 

"I see," he replied, " Just curious. I certainly would like to meet him,
" 

"Perhaps, I can arrange that for you, Mr. McGregor." she said with a
slight smile."Would you like some more tea?" 

‘That would be fine, thank you." He replied, 

As she poured the tea into his cup, she looked at him steadily. McGregor
felt slightly uneasy by the long stare but didn't say anything. 

"I read some of his works on Ancient Egypt. Quite fascinating stuff,
actually." 

"What about the other person, Mr, Donaldson, who is he?" 

"Oh, Mr. Donaldson," she looked at him then laughed "He was an Artist
and quite a character. He came out here to do some rural landscape 
painting . He was a very nice man, a bit eccentric, wearing odd 
coloured socks and rather bright clothing but, all in all, he was a 
pleasant man." 

"Was?" 

"Yes," she said a sad expression crossing her pinched face." He left
here one day and just never returned. After a couple of days, I 
notified the authorities, a search was made for him, but they never 
found him. He just up and left. A very mysterious case that one." 

After sipping the tea, McGregor said "I think I will go for a walk." 

"Are you alone here, Mrs. Robinson ? " 

"But for Mr.Owens, pretty much so ,Why do you ask?" 

"I felt as if I were being watched," 

The landlady threw back her head and laughed heartily. 

"Oh, please, Mr McGregor, it's just your imagination, I have to admit
that the place can invoke spooky thoughts, but you don't have to worry, 
you will get used to it after a while" she responded . 

He got up and said "Well, Ma'am, It certainly was interesting talking
with you .I think I will go for a walk" 

"My pleasure, Mr McGregor," She replied evenly, 

On his walk, he passed some old Victorian houses in dire need of repair,
their garbled bay windows were cracked and shadowed., Porches sagged, 
As he looked around, he felt a bit sad, 

"A great town gone to seed," he thought, "and almost deserted." 

He stood looking at an old church, admiring the Gothic Architecture, the
stained glass coloured windows, the buttresses, the little rose window 
above the entrance. "Those old architects sure had a lot of 
imagination" ,he thought.  He noticed to his surprise that the front 
door was boarded up and wondered why. 

"New in town are you?"said a raspy voice from behind him, which startled
him. He hadn't heard the person approached. He was a tall, gaunt man 
with a bald head with long flowing grey hair beneath a black wide 
brimmed hat and was dressed in a faded black suit. 

"Yes" replied McGregor. 

"Where you staying at, young fella?" 

"At the 'Knife and Fork,' and who are you, may I ask ?" 

"Oh, forgive my bad manners, I am Hudson, the town's undertaker" he
stretched out a hand. 

McGregor reluctantly shook it. It was ice cold. 

The man's beady black eyes searched him and seem to burn through him. 

McGregor felt a bit uneasy. 

‘And what brought to our little town ,Mr .....?" 

"McGregor. I am a writer." 

"Yeah? Now ain't that somethin', we had a writer fella here once, name
of O'Brien, he spent a couple of days then took off on the next bus 
like a bat bustin'outta Hell, " 

"Really ?" Replied McGregor, intrigued." and why was that, do you know?'


"He claimed that the town was too spooky for him.". 

"Can't blame him" thought McGregor. 

“Oh, By the way,Mr. Hudson, I noticed the Church's  front door is
boarded up, why is that?” “Oh, that?  the people just lost interestand 
stop attending” he replied. "Well, I gotta go", Hudson said abruptly," 
Nice meeting you, Mr McGregor, have a good stay" 

They shook hands and the man turned and left as quietly as he came. 

Later at dinner, the landlady asked."How was your tour of the town, Mr.
McGregor, found anything interesting?" 

"Fine.' McGregor replied" just fine. It's quite a quaint town you have
here, I met Mr. Hudson, the town's undertaker" 

Mrs. Robinson's face suddenly turned as white as a sheet . 

"Oh really, but that can't possible be." 

"why not?" 

"Well, Mr. Hudson died three years ago!" A chill ran down his spine and
he felt goose bumps all over. 

.”Really?" 

"Yes, he died shortly after his wife, poor man, he couldn't stand the
loss. He grieved to death ." 

"You are pulling my legs, aren't you?" 

"No."She replied, " ah, but we live in a mysterious world, aren't we? 

*** 

One day ran into another, and still no Mr. Owens, and McGregor began to
think that maybe Mrs Robinson was a bit dotty and only imagined that 
Mr. Owens was still there at the boarding house. 

"What about Mr Owens?" he blurted one night over dinner. 

"Oh Yes, Mr. Owens, I will take you up to meet him as I promised."She
paused, "Are you still sure you want to meet him, Mr. McGregor?" 

"Definitely ,That would be a great honour." 

They got up and he followed her up the stairs to a door marked 4, with a
sign hanging on the doorknob saying in bold letters: "DO NOT DISTURB." 

She keyed it open. An overpowering, nauseating smell assailed his
nostrils as she opened the door. A smell of leather and disinfectant 
and death pervaded the room. 

"Well, Mr  .McGregor, there is Mr. Owens "she said as they entered, and
pointed. 

McGregor looked, and recoiled in shock and terror. He couldn't believe
his eyes. His body turned cold as ice at the sight that greeted him. 

For there on the wall opposite him were five human heads mounted on
highly polished Plaques, their faces a blotchy white and their 
sightless eyes staring mockingly down at him! 

‘Mr. Owens is in the middle." cooed Mrs Robinson, and gave a mad
cackling laugh. McGregor then felt a blow on his head and blacked out. 
The land lady turned to short humped back figure lurking in the shadows 
“Come give me a hand, Ivan, we have work to do” She then went over to 
shelf and took down a mean looking meat cleaver. 


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