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Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Comedy · #1036412
A funny story with a strange cast of characters...
The group met at the old McGillicuddy mansion at eleven o’clock sharp. It was quite the motley crew that congregated before the massive marble staircase. The tour guide was standing on top of the stairs as he spoke, “Welcome everyone! How are ya‘ll doing today? I hope ya’ll are ready to experience the thrill of a lifetime!”
Dirk shook his head slightly and rolled his eyes, “Thrill of a lifetime, my ass!”
“Shut your mouth punk,” asserted Sgt. Sedenko, “I paid good money for this tour. I don’t need your punkass ruining it for me.” “Pendejos!” chimed in Isabella, the thick, wavy-haired beauty with bronzed complexion. “Yeah, come on guys. She’s right. We just wanna have f-f-fun,” said Sven while he adjusted his glasses back on his nose.

Mortimer, the tour guide, took back control of the group and said, “OK OK everyone simma down now! Let’s get this tour started.” With that everyone followed Mortimer into the house to a long corridor with a large window at the end showing the moonlit sky. “If you’ll notice, tonight there’s a full moon out. I hope none of you turn into werewolves on me, ha ha,” Mortimer laughed jokingly. Isabella’s eyes widened at the mention of the full moon and Sven said, “D-d-don’t worry, my parents are only a phone call away. Besides there’s no such thing as werewolves.” Sgt. Sedenko flashed his glock then and said, “Don’t worry, baby. Any werewolf in here is gonna have to deal with me and my sidekick here.”

Just as an awkward silence was about to set in, Thea, the innocent-looking southern belle, grew uneasy and approached Isabella, she whispered softly to her, “Don’t get caught in the moonlight.” “Que pasa?” replied Isabella.
“Excuse me sir, where is the bathroom in this place?” Thea asked Mortimer.
“Up the staircase right there and it’s the first door on your left,” Mortimer said as he pointed toward the staircase.
Everyone’s eyes followed Thea as she walked up the dark, dreary staircase. “Where’s she going?” Sven asked. “She’s prolly getting a visit from Aunt Flo,” answered Dirk.

Mortimer led the group down a long corridor to the right and into a room with large, brass doorknobs. Upon entering Mortimer began to tell the gruesome story that took place there nearly one hundred years ago. But before he could utter more than a few sentences he was interrupted by a rather odd-looking gentlemen who seemed to inhabit the space.

The gentleman’s name was James. He sat cross-legged, strangely calm in an old embroidered chair. The room was dark and musty, save the light from a single candle flickering on a rickety old table. James was wearing an old brown suit jacket with what appeared to be a ragged silk shirt and beige khakis. He looked rather distinguished, were it not for the visible marks of dirt and wear that seemed embedded in his garments. “G’evening chaps,” James said merrily as if he was expecting them. Everyone’s eyes lit up when he spoke; they were obviously startled by his presence.

In the corner of the room there was a single dirty mattress. A frayed blanket and dirty pillow adorned the bed. James ‘sipped’ at the wine glass in his hand despite the fact there was nothing in it. “How’d you get in here?” Mortimer demanded of James. “I suppose you are all here for the tour than yes?” James retorted, avoiding Mortimer’s question. “Stop playing games, old man,” Sgt Sedenko said, “what the hell are you doing here? And give me one good reason why I shouldn’t have you arrested for unlawful entry?” “Please, please,” James pleaded, “I am merely a simple nomad, and this is my home for the time. I only want but to chat. Will you not sit and have a drink with old James?”

Mortimer held his forehead for a moment, knowing this character was going to give him quite a headache. “No James,“ Mortimer said firmly, “this is not your home. It is the McGillicuddy mansion, its home to none but lost souls. You must come with us on the rest of the tour and I-“”Yeah, I wanna keep an eye on this one. I don’t trust him!” Sedenko interrupted. “Screw that,” Dirk said, “he smells like ass!” “Shut your mouth punk! Don’t make me have to beat your ass. I know who you are. I can see the red paint all over your shoes. You’re the one who’s been tagging up the whole neighborhood.” “Shut up, pig! You can’t prove anything!” Sedenko’s face grew beat red with anger at the sound of “pig”. He lunged at Dirk, but Dirk was too quick for the fat, middle-aged cop and slyly dived out of the way to use Sven as a human shield, “H-h-hey! Don’t get me involved in your high jinx, I’m nothing but an innocent nuclear physicist, leave me alone.” With that, Isabella’s eyes and mouth opened wide and she grabbed Sven and pulled him away from the feuding men. “Pendejos!” she exclaimed toward the cop and the rebel graffiti artist.

Mortimer took back control of the group again, “Everybody quiet! Let’s get on with the tour. Come on, James, your part of the tour now.” James got up and walked closer to the group while Mortimer went on, “Now, I will begin to tell you all the story of why this particular house is haunted. In the late nineteenth century, this house was owned by the McGillicuddy family. Over the years, as the members of the family grew older someone at some point died in every room of the house. The very room you are standing in is where the young son, Michael, fell on a piece of broken glass and bled to death.” At this point the members of the group murmured and shifted about uncomfortably.

When the sound died down, Mortimer continued, “This house is different from every other haunted house in the world in more than just one way. The ghosts in this house enter the bodies of anyone who visits,” he turned to James as he said this. “Perhaps I should demonstrate with an exorcism,” Mortimer grinned and looked over the group slowly. “James, will you please step up here with me. It is you whose body is now inhabited by the young boy.” Mortimer took James by the arm and pulled him before the group. He placed his hand on James’ forehead and began chanting under his breath, softly at first, with an almost soothing humming. Soon, it grew louder, the group could not understand the language he was speaking, but it made everyone feel uneasy. “Maybe we should just leave it at that,” Sgt. Sedenko said, “I think we get the point.” “Yeah, I don’t have a clue what the hell’s coming outta that guys mouth,” said Dirk.

Mortimer continued humming and mumbling his foreign incantations, his voice rising quickly now. Suddenly, he placed his hands on a protesting James’ throat and began to squeeze with an almost maniacal look in his eye. James’ terrified face turned from purple to an almost blue color, and his eyes receded to the back of his head. His body went limp, and Mortimer let him fall lifelessly to the floor.

“Alrighty then. Lets move on to the next room,” Mortimer said nonchalantly as he led the frightened, slightly less willing group out of the room and across the corridor to a new set of large double doors. He swung the doors open and led the group inside, “This is the grand dining room. The master of the house would host many feasts here, where people from far across the country would come to dine with the McGillicuddy’s. Many sightings have been made here of ghost people dining and enjoying themselves. This room is haunted by a negative spirit however. One night while the master was out of town a dispute broke out in this very room among a maid and the butler. The maid confessed to the butler that she no longer loved him. In fury and desperation he told her that if she left him he would kill himself. Brushing the comment off, she packed her bags and was never seen again. The butler was so heartbroken that he hung himself from that very chandelier we’re standing under right now.”

An eerie silence broke out amongst the group as they took all this in. Isabella grew a look of concern and said, “Donde esta Dirk?” The tour guide paused and took a quick look around, “Oops, did we lose one? People normally wander off into various rooms on these tours. Not a problem, we’ll find him.” Just as Mortimer finished a howl came from a distant that startled everyone. “Ha, I knew werewolves were real,” Sedenko said as he put his hand on his gun. “I-I-I can’t believe it,” stuttered Sven. “Que pasa?” said Isabella. “It’s o-o-ok Isabella,” said Sven, “I’ll protect that beautiful non-English speaking body of yours.” “Retarded love, how sweet,” said Dirk as he walked back into the room.

“Where the hell did you disappear too, punk? Been leaving your mark some where in this mansion, have ya?” Sedenko said bitterly. Dirk smirked and said, “I heard some howling so I figured I’d come back to see who got eaten by the werewolf.” “If only my m-m-momma was here. She’d be able to protect us,” said Sven. “Your momma couldn’t even protect her own virginity,” said Dirk. “Well, she’s protected mine pretty well,” Sven answered. “Que pasa?” Isabella said. Dirk then muttered under his breath, shaking his head, “Loser.”

The howling grew louder, seemingly getting closer to the dining room. “Well now, let’s go ahead and move to the next room, shall we?” Mortimer said with a sense of uneasiness in his voice. He led the group back through the double doors into the main corridor when suddenly, a soft grumble was heard then what sounded like a muffled scream followed. Mortimer turned to the group and looked around for a minute, “Not again. Come on now, stop running off you guys.” One of the group had been missing, Isabella gasped when she looked around to notice Sven was gone.

Almost as soon as they noticed Sven was gone, a weak groan could be heard from closet down the hall. Mortimer swallowed hard and walked toward the closest slowly. Everyone’s head turned simultaneously to follow Mortimer. They all walked closely behind him, not looking forward to what was behind the door. Mortimer opened the door quickly to find Sven laying there in a pool of his own blood.

“Aye Papi!” cried Isabella, running over to Sven. Sven sat there breathing very heavily and looked around with absolute terror in his eyes. He tried to talk but it was useless because his tongue had been ripped out from his mouth. “Holy shit! That’s it, I’m outta this piece,” Dirk yelled as he ran toward the front door. “Stop right there, punk! If you don’t help me get this man some medical attention I’m gonna turn you in,” commanded Sedenko.

Shock and awe set in through all the group members, nobody knew what to do or what was really going on. Then suddenly, when all their backs were turned another growl was heard, this time it was close, real close. The sound of hearts and paws pounding resonated throughout the entire hall as the group turned around. And there it was, a snarling, drooling, evil-looking werewolf with razor sharp fangs showing their power. Everyone’s eyes widened immediately, but they were in too great of shock to move.

Dirk slipped to the back of the group, while Sedenko went for his gun. “Good doggie,” Mortimer said as he backed up away from it slowly. Blam, blam, blam! Shots rang out through the hall as Sedenko emptied his clip into the werewolf, who appeared unaffected. “Oh shit!” said Sedenko. “You gotta use a silver bullet!” Mortimer yelled to Sedenko. “Well, I don’t have any silver bullets, so we’re as good as fucked.” Overhearing the yells Dirk realized he had some of that six-pack leftover from before and busted out a Coors Light can, smirking. “I got a silver bullet,” Dirk said with a strange calmness. “Give it to me, punk! We’re all gonna die!” Sedenko yelled. “No there’s no time. I got this,” Dirk said as he walked back toward the group.

The werewolf was nearly unaffected by the bullets, advancing toward them slowly knowing full well that they could do nothing to stop her now. Then suddenly Dirk took off running full blast toward the werewolf, yelling “Tap the Rockies!” The werewolf in turn lunged at Dirk with mouth wide to chomp down on his man flesh. Dirk ducked low under the wolf slamming the can of Coors Light home deep into the werewolf’s mouth.

The werewolf gagged as it landed on top of Dirk. Dirk winced in pain then realized that it worked, the “silver bullet” worked. The werewolf stumbled toward the group and dropped limp to the floor, its tongue rolling out of its mouth lifelessly. The whole group gasped toward in wonderment, nobody could believe it. “Wow, I’m impressed,” said Mortimer to Dirk. Dirk stood up slowly and brushed himself off, “Well, you know, I do what I can.” Dirk winked then decided it was time to go, and bolted for the door disappearing into the night.

“Well, I must hand it to you Mortimer you weren’t kidding when you said this would be a thrill of a lifetime,” Sedenko said as he put his gun back in its holster. “Yes, I agree. This has been quite the night indeed,” said Isabella to everyone’s amazement. “Wait, you can speak English?” asked Sedenko. “Of course I can speak English, Pendejo!”

Sedenko walked to the dead werewolf while Isabella and Mortimer brought Sven to the front to wait for the ambulance. Then the werewolf suddenly morphed
back into its true form, Thea. Sedenko shook his head slowly looking down at Thea’s naked body, “Well, babe, you sure did make this an interesting story.”
© Copyright 2005 I.M. Bord (kharmasreal at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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