Click here for nice stories main menu

main menu   |   youngsters categories   |   authors   |   new stories   |   search   |   links   |   settings   |   author tools


The Postman (standard:other, 4235 words)
Author: Richard J CobainAdded: May 10 2003Views/Reads: 5638/2519Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A crazed woman believes that a secret organisation are spying on her and decides to take action with gruesome consequences.
 



Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

hard thing to do with a stinging sore hand.  He began to feel the first 
droplets of rain on his shoulders.  "Shit" he groaned, "this is all i 
need".  The day was going from bad to worse for him.  He looked up at 
the sky and was very surprised to see how dark the clouds had become.  
He sighed heavily.  Even when he reached this park just ten minutes ago 
everything had seemed all right, but now the beginnings of a fine 
shower were evident.  He pulled his hood over his head and opened the 
creaky old gate of number 13.  He didn't like doing this house usually 
because he always felt that the entrance went on forever.  He was about 
halfway up the long path when a black cat suddenly leaped out of one of 
the many trees startling Dan.  The feline was in pursuit of a bird, 
which made good a hasty escape.  The cat turned to face him with huge 
yellow eyes that seemed unnaturally intelligent, it almost seemed to 
blame him for the bird getting away.  "What" Dan asked in frustration 
not realising the stupidity of what he was doing?  With that the 
strange cat raced out through the open gate at high speed disappearing 
around the corner.  "I never liked that fucking cat" Dan said to 
himself as he walked up to the front door shielding himself against the 
elements. 

She saw him open the gate and enter the driveway.  Hatred burned inside
her but she was also very nervous, she was taking a big step here.  She 
popped one of her prescription painkillers into her mouth and winced at 
the bitterness of it, soon however it would take effect and the pain 
would subside for a while.  She was panting in quick sharp bursts and 
her heart was pounding hard in her chest.  "I have to do it" she was 
saying, "I have to get my life back".  Her hands clenched and 
unclenched without her knowing, she was pumping herself up for what she 
had to do.  He was getting closer now; sweat began to pour down her 
tense face.  She wiped it off with the back of her hand.  Slowly she 
got to her feet, it was time. 

Dan thought he heard something from behind the door but put it down to
imagination.  The rain was really coming down hard now.  He dropped one 
of the letters as he crouched down.  He picked it back up just before 
the wind got hold of it, it was a bit wet but so what?.  He didn't have 
the time to tie little ribbons around them all now did he.  He 
carefully pushed the letters in remembering what happened last time but 
as he was doing so something smashed down on his already bad hand from 
the other side of the door.  Dan screamed in pain, he pulled his hand 
out and fell backwards onto the wet ground.  He was in agony; his hand 
was almost certainly broken.  As he was rolling around in pain he saw 
the door open and a mad looking woman appeared, this was the first time 
he had seen Mrs Dawson in almost two years.  She had completely 
changed, her hair looked like it hadn't been brushed or washed in at 
least a month and her clothes were dirty and torn.  But that wasn't 
what worried Dan, what worried him was the fact that she was holding a 
baseball bat over her shoulder.  "Jesus no" he whimpered just before 
she brought it down on his head. 

The cat sneaked back into the garden in an attempt to gain shelter from
the heavy rain.  After a while of searching he curled up against the 
trunk of an old tree, it would have to do for now.  He gave the 
equivalent of a human sigh as he shivered with the cold.  He lifted his 
nose to the wind, good there were no dogs were around, one less thing 
to worry about.  He was just about to doze off when something caught 
his eye.  It was a bird.  If there was one thing he hated more than 
dogs it was birds.  This small fellow was perched on a low branch about 
fifteen feet away.  But the strange thing was he was staring right at 
the cat, not moving a muscle, it was as if he was frozen to the spot or 
something.  The cat snarled at the freak bird that refused to be 
intimidated but it stayed perfectly still.  While this was going on a 
dark black van entered the park silently and parked outside number 13.  
The cat didn't see the featureless man get out of it, he didn't see him 
aim the futuristic looking gun and he didn't hear the shot.  The world 
slowly went black for Benny the fat tabby cat.  The last thing he saw 
was the bird's tiny expressionless eyes watching him. 

Old Mrs Halpen in number 3 was adjusting her curtains for the second
time already that day when she saw the van enter the park and go 
straight outside Mrs Dawson's.  If something even half interesting was 
about to happen in this boring street she wasn't going to miss it.  "I 
wonder who that could be,” she said to herself when she noticed 
something strange.  She couldn't see who was in it because the windows 
were darkened.  But even stranger was the fact that the van had no 
number plates.  "How very odd" she mouthed making a mental note of it 
for later reference.  Then someone got out.  She didn't have a good 
view and so couldn't even tell if the person was male or female.  All 
she could tell was that the stranger was dressed in black from head to 
toe.  He/she walked up to the gate and that was when Mrs Halpen 
realized that this newcomer was holding some kind of rifle.  "Dear 
lord" she gasped as she pressed her face to the glass.  This was gold 
dust to a person who spent about two hours a day looking out the 
window.  That was when he/she loaded, aimed and fired the gun with more 
than military type efficiency.  Then the mystery person entered through 
the gate in the direction of the shot.  Mrs Halpen's mouth dropped wide 
open in disbelief.  The person came back out about a minute later and 
as suddenly as it appeared the van disappeared from Church Lane.  She 
was just about to reach for the phone when she saw a bird perched on 
top of the streets telephone wires looking straight at her.  She began 
to get a bit groggy and had to sit down in her easy chair.  She woke up 
about two hours later knowing that something of the utmost importance 
had occurred but she couldn't for the life of her remember what it was. 
 The only thing she could recall was that it had something to do with 
birds, she began to watch them closely from then on. 

Dan opened his eyes very slowly; he had an absolutely splitting pain in
his head.  "Where the hell am i?" he mumbled still not fully awake yet. 
 You're in the sitting room of number 13 Church Lane" a voice said from 
behind him.  Now he was awake and he realised that he was trapped.  He 
was tied to a chair securely, he couldn't move his feet or hands, he 
was in big trouble.  He noticed that all the curtains were drawn.  
"What's going on?" he asked with panic creeping into his voice.  "You 
know what's going on" she replied still behind him.  The fact that he 
couldn't see her frightened him even more.  "I don't know what you're 
talking about lady, why did you attack me?, I'm just a fucking 
postman".  There was a long silence.  "No you're not" she finally said 
with emphasis on the last word.  "What do you mean?" he screamed.  
"Come out here where i can see you?".  He heard her moving from behind 
him and she sat on a chair opposite him.  He couldn't see her clearly 
because of the dark but he could see that she was holding a very large 
and sharp looking knife.  "Now" she said waving the knife slowly back 
and forth "I'll ask the fucking questions around here understand".  
"Yes" he whimpered, he was sweating heavily. 

Martha was just about to break another long silence when there was a
loud bang at the front door.  She jumped to her feet, "if you make a 
sound I'll kill you" she rasped at the trembling Dan and walked into 
the hall.  She hid the knife behind her back took a deep breath and 
opened the door, then screamed.  Benny was hanging from a rope tied to 
the porch roof, his stomach had been barbarically ripped open and his 
internal organs lay in a bloody heap on the doorstep.  The blood was 
still dripping out of his body.  His eyes had been brutally gauged out 
of his head.  One of them was lying on top of what could have been his 
heart.  His innocent little paws were swaying in the wind.  "Benny no" 
she cried falling to her knees.  "Who did this to you?" but she knew 
the answer. 

Dan was busy trying to free himself from the binding ropes without much
success when he heard the scream.  "Fuck" he cursed in panic as he 
tried desperately to break free.  He was still doing this when she 
stormed back into the room about a minute later.  "I'm going to ask you 
a question and if you don't give me the fucking answer i want to hear 
I'm going to hurt you ok?" she roared barely controlling the rage that 
was building up in her.  Dan nodded his head to confirm that he 
understood.  She was holding the body of the cat he had seen earlier, 
it had been savagely butchered.  "Look what they did" she yelled at him 
holding the cat in front of his face.  Her clothes were already covered 
in it's blood.  Dan came within an inch of vomiting.  The sweat was 
pouring down his face and body now.  She was totally crazy, that much 
was clear and there was no telling what she might do.  The fact that 
she was now crying scared him even more.  "Who are they?, and what do 
they want with me?" she asked pointing the knife at his face.  He was 
confused.  "I don't know what you're talking about" he pleaded.  "I was 
just delivering my letters".  He was beginning to cry now.  That just 
seemed like a dream to him now.  "That" she growled at him "is the 
wrong fucking answer".  She dropped the cats body on the floor and ran 
behind him.  "What are you doing?", "just let me go" he pleaded.  
Suddenly there was an unbelievable pain in his right hand.  He screamed 
until he thought his lungs would burst.  It felt as though his hand was 
on fire.  She walked in front of him when his screaming had calmed 
down.  She was laughing quietly as she held something red out in front 
of his face for him to see.  It took him a while to realize that it was 
one of his middle fingers.  The screaming began again and Martha just 
laughed and laughed. 

In a way it was good that it was raining because that made the ground
softer.  Martha never knew how hard it was to actually dig a grave 
until now even for a cat.  But if things went the way she thought they 
were going to go she might be digging another grave soon, a postman 
sized grave.  "How could i have been so stupid" she said out loud.  Of 
course he would deny all knowledge of them.  It was obvious now that 
she thought about it.  But his tongue might loosen if a few more 
fingers went missing.  Who knows maybe he may be willing to talk now, 
but she knew this was unlikely.  She paused for a rest.  Her mind 
drifted back to Benny, he had never hurt anyone.  Those malicious 
bastards had just killed him to get to her.  "Your death isn't in vain 
Benny" she sobbed.  "They'll pay for this".  Then a new thought 
occurred to her.  What if they had killed Benny because they knew she 
had the postman?  This put a strange twist on things.  If they knew she 
had him a number of things could be possible, they could be looking at 
her right now, they could be in her house freeing him right now.  They 
could strike at any moment and she would be practically defenceless.  
So what could she do?. 

He had stopped screaming but the pain remained.  He couldn't believe
what had happened, this crazy bitch had first smashed his head with a 
baseball bat and then cut off his middle finger.  He could still feel 
the blood dripping down his intact fingers.  It felt sticky and thick.  
Unknown to him he had lost quite a lot of blood with his two injuries.  
He was starting to accept the fact that he wasn't getting out of here 
alive.  He thought of his wife and child, they seemed like a distant 
memory, like someone else's dream.  He looked around him again.  The 
room appeared quite big but maybe this was because the two small chairs 
were the only items of furniture in the room.  He couldn't tell what 
time it was but it was beginning to get dark.  He heard feet in the 
hall outside she entered the room once more. 

The man in the black van smiled as he sailed across the highway.  He
loved the rain.  One of the women tied up in the back started crying 
again.  "Who are you she asked?", "where are you taking us?" her 
innocent female pleading almost got to him, almost.  "You're going for 
a ride" he said after a while.  These silly bitches had broken the 
rules, and when you broke the bosses rules you most certainly went for 
a ride.  He didn't usually get physical with the lady's but one of 
these cows had really put up a fight when he had come for her.  He had 
twisted her arm behind her back until it had broken, very loudly.  She 
had calmed down after an injection though.  "I love my life" he said to 
himself as he gazed ahead at the open road. 

She sat down on the old wooden chair and looked at him straight in the
eye.  "I've come to a decision" she said.  "They more than likely know 
I'm holding you here, so i have to act fast".  "I have decided to kill 
you", she spoke calmly and rationally as if they were discussing the 
weather.  "What?" gasped Dan with shock?  "I have to do away with you 
soon before they make another move".  Dan started to sob in desperation 
as she got up from the chair.  "You can't do this" he pleaded.  "I 
don't know who they are, just let me go and I'll forget the whole 
thing".  "I should have known you wouldn't talk, now you have to pay 
the price".  Dan started to scream again.  She plunged the knife deep 
into his chest and watched in wonder as the blood flowed down his body 
soaking his blue shirt.  He was roaring uncontrollably.  "They killed 
Mrs Phillips" she shouted stabbing him again.  "They killed Benny, 
another stab, they've been watching me for years and I'm not taking it 
anymore.  She slashed him with more power and fury now; the rage that 
swelled inside her was reaching a climax.  She stopped after a while 
when she realised that he wasn't showing any signs of life.  She spat 
on his mangled unrecognisable face and fell back into her chair 
panting, she was exhausted.  She closed her eyes and slept for a short 
time. 

Mr Johansen was just about to turn in for the night when he heard the
mans screams.  "That sounded like it came from next door" his wife said 
to him from the couch with a terrified expression on her old face.  "It 
did" he replied nervously turning off the television.  They heard it 
once more, louder this time.  "What should we do?" she asked him 
wrapping her dressing gown tighter around herself.  "I'm calling the 
police, you lock the doors and make sure all the windows are shut".  
She left the room without a word.  He looked out the window and saw 
that indeed a light was on next door in the direction of the awful 
noise.  He dialled the number.  "Hello police, there's a man screaming 
next door, Mr Johansen, yes, 11 Church Lane, thank you".  His wife 
entered the room looking much older than she already was.  "I'm scared 
Bob" she said softly.  "So am I" he answered truthfully putting an arm 
around her. 

She awoke sometime later grasping the memory of a beautiful dream which
she couldn't quite remember.  She was quite disorientated for a while, 
and then it all came back to her.  The postman who wouldn't talk was 
slumped forward in his chair, "your own mother wouldn't know you now" 
she said as she cut the ropes binding him to the chair.  He flopped to 
the ground in a pool of his own blood making an erie sound in the small 
room.  She was just about to drag him out to the garden when something 
began troubling her.  His face just didn't look right.  "Why it almost 
looks fake or something" she spoke to herself.  Kneeling down to get a 
better look she took her knife and made a long incision down one side 
of his face.  She then took hold of the flap of loose skin and pulled 
it open.  She couldn't believe what she saw.  Instead of bone his face 
was constructed of some kind of metal alloy.  "No" she cried in 
disbelief putting her hands to her head.  She began clawing at her own 
face with her long sharp nails.  "This isn't happening".  She could 
feel her mind slipping away.  Now it was her turn to scream. 

The next week was a real blur for Margaret, she couldn't remember much. 
She did recall a group of white men busting into her room and throwing 
her into the back of a van after heavily sedating her of course.  She 
had been convicted of the murder of Dan Cummins but on pleading 
insanity had escaped a jail sentence.  Instead she was to spend the 
next twenty years in the Rose Mount mental institution.  Today was her 
first day there and she was looking forward to it.  As they pushed her 
up the long driveway in a wheelchair she saw a large group of birds and 
covered her scared face with her hands to hide herself.  They asked her 
what was wrong but she wouldn't tell them.  They took her down a tiled 
corridor and into a small room.  "Doctor Trimble will be with you in 
one moment" they said and shut the door leaving her alone.  She heard 
the door locking but she didn't care.  She was safe here, she could 
rest and get better and wasn't going to have any more trouble from 
"them".  She pulled down the blinds to cover the window and sat back 
down.  "I hope they give me a room without a window" she said to 
herself.  She yawned loudly and waited for Doctor Trimble patiently 
with her hands on knees.  Presently she heard the door being unlocked.  
"Hello Doctor" she spoke looking at her fingers, "I know I'm going to 
be happy here as long as "they" don't get me, I'm sure of it".  "They" 
spoke the doctor slowly, "lets have a good long talk about that shall 
we?".  She looked up at him for the first time.  It was the postman. 

THE END 

Richard J Cobain - 28/12/00 Copy write © 2002 Kieran McCarthy 


   


Authors appreciate feedback!
Please write to the authors to tell them what you liked or didn't like about the story!
Richard J Cobain has 5 active stories on this site.
Profile for Richard J Cobain, incl. all stories
Email: kieranmccarthy@eircom.net

stories in "other"   |   all stories by "Richard J Cobain"  






Nice Stories @ nicestories.com, support email: nice at nicestories dot com
Powered by StoryEngine v1.00 © 2000-2020 - Artware Internet Consultancy