Tag Archives: eerie encounters

A high-speed roller coaster twists through a dark indoor amusement park ride, illuminated by eerie black lights. On an overhead maintenance bridge, a shadowy figure watches unnoticed. Below, riders scream, oblivious to the lurking presence. Sparks from the tracks light up the darkness, adding to the unsettling atmosphere.

The Monster of Blueberry Falls, Chapter 2

Longevity and Other Stories
A life without end,
stars call from the endless night,
time slips through our hands.
Buy Yours Here:
Amazon - Books2Read

This is a draft version of a chapter from John Saye’s book, Longevity and Other Stories. If you are daring, why not subscribe to my newsletter (they come few and far between), and I’ll send you a PDF copy of the book?

“How’s the Falls?” asked Mike. He and Janet entered a queue line. The sign above them said the Blue Tornado. The air was full of the smell of caramel popcorn and cotton candy stands where the machines had been running too long.

“Don’t ask,” she said.

“That bad?”

“It’s just… the caves are fine. The falls are pumping as they should. It looks beautiful, like always.”

“Your cave features are better than Ruby Falls.”

“At least those are real.”

“Yours isn’t?”

“You’re kidding. You know the elevator is fake, right? Tell me you aren’t that dense, Mike.”

“Okay. You know, though, I always feel like the presentation at Blueberry Falls was much better than anyone else’s, especially yours.”

“Stop it.”

They turned a corner in the queue, which was lined on the left and the right with metal bars that were painted red.

“I always thought they ought to paint these blue, maybe yellow or something, but never red,” said Mike.

“I mean, it’s the Blue Tornado, right?”

“I know. There was trouble with it earlier in the week.”

“I never heard that. What happened?”

“Well, I heard it was having a hard time launching twice, and then I heard one group got stuck half upside down in the corkscrew. Can you believe that?”

“I can’t believe I hadn’t heard about it, that’s all. The Blue Thunder…”

“Tornado.”

“It’s practically built on top of Blueberry Falls.”

“Yeah.”

“Stuck in the corkscrew, though. That’s got to be tough.”

“They were there for forty-five minutes, hanging there by their shoulder straps, looking at the concrete floor. They had to turn on the lights.”

“Oh, that breaks the whole look.”

“I know.”

They found the rest of the line. Stepping behind a few folks, still a couple of bends away from the loading zone. There was a little trash here and there. Someone in line ahead of them was dropping candy wrappers. The two ahead of them were soaked, probably off of one of the water rides, but mainly they smelled like sweat and too much sunscreen.

“How’d they get them down?” said Janet.

“They got in there behind it with a car that was working, took the breaks off the first one, and nudged it in.”

“That doesn’t sound right.”

“That’s what I heard.”

“Mike, you’re full of it.”

“I know, but you still love me.”

“Mike.”

“What? You’ve got another guy you aren’t telling me about?”

He was smiling, but Janet could tell.

“Not seeing anyone right now. Not like that.”

“I keep telling you that you could do better than me, anyway. Tour guide and a burger flipper. You’re going to get out of this theme park one day.”

“What, and you’re not?” She punched him on the shoulder. “Just because your dad runs the front office doesn’t mean…”

“That I will? It does.”

“You were always better than me in school.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“I thought…”

“High school was a joke. Besides, you don’t see me in college, do you? I’m still here running the food stand, and I do most of the cooking on the busy nights, too.”

“Yeah, your Fridays and Saturdays are toast, aren’t they?”

“Pretty much.”

They stepped up again. The two sweaty folks tried to whip each other with little rags they were using to mop up their sweat.

The lights flickered,

“What was that?”

“Geez, Janet. The lights.”

“No, stupid, why?”

“Ah, that is a better question.”

It did it again.

People were sitting on the hand bars ahead of them, goofing off, and jumping down. It looked to Janet like a whole train-full gap ahead of them in life had just moved. They followed as the others brought up the slack.

“Seriously Janet. What do you want to do after wonderland here?”

“I don’t know.”

“Why didn’t you run off to college?”

“Money. It’s all money.”

“Not going to get it here.”

“You know it.”

She turned the corner. They were in the home stretch now, and she and Mike could see the loading platform. A bunch of people got off. They pushed at shoulder harnesses made of steel and rubber that cone down over your neck, shoulders, and chest, and clambered out, headed for the exit towards the gift shop.

“You always exit at the gift shop,” said Mike.

“Always.”

“I think it’s the only way any of these things make a dime, do they?”

“Heck, I never figured out how anybody can afford to build a coaster like this.”

“You ought to design coasters.”

“You know I’ve thought about that.”

They got to the end where the line roped back.

 “Next train, Janet,” said the operator.

“Thanks, Jeff,” she said.

“Jeff?”

“So I ride it during every lunch break, okay?”

“Right.”

Jeff waved, then winked to Janet after securing folks into seats and starting the coaster rolling. It tumbled around a corner, got lined up, and pointed towards a bog circular hole that took it into the building properly. Here they were undercover, just as the queue was, but this coaster was all indoors. After a brief countdown and lots of screaming, the coaster screamed into the building at incredible speed and, once inside and into its first loop.

Once the noise died down, she looked at Mike. “Animals.”

“What?”

“I want to help animals. I was thinking about transferring to the zoo side and getting in with the vets.”

“You want that?”

“I don’t know. You think your sad friend could help us get in over there?”

“I don’t know. I’ll think about it.”

The next train pulled in, and a separate group of people disembarked.

“I guess they are doing two trains today.”

“I want you to ask him for me. For me.”

She kissed him on the cheek, lightly enough, then took his hand and dragged him to the first car, and shoved him in.

She jumped in next to him, pulled the seatbelt tight, and then pulled the shoulder harness down about hers.

Jeff came by a moment later. “Hi Janet,” he said and checked their restraints. “Mike.”

“Dude,” said Mike.

“Be over for some sliders and fries later.”

Jeff went back to his station and started going through his countdown.

“I think he likes you,” she said.

“Get out.”

They rolled around the corner and in front of the launch zone. It was a circular cut into the building where the dark coaster was. The surrounding circle appeared in concentric orange, blue and yellow paint and a digital sign across the top said three… two… one… then the coaster launched on a magnetic track that took them from zero to forty-five miles an hour in four seconds.

They screamed as it dragged the train, rocketing, into the building and then right into a loop.

Everything was lit with black lights, glowing greens, pale blues, and unearthly oranges streaked all around them. Up a hill, and over it, Janet found a little airtime. They took a corner and into the second loop.

The second loop took them low, then up to the tallest hill in the place. They crested the hill and faced what everyone called the beast, but wasn’t really, it was just what the fluorescent paint looked like. Janet talked about it with friends all the time.

By her side, mine was talking, but she couldn’t hear him. All she could hear was the rock music being piped into the speakers by her ears. Then the wind started up.

Flashing lights crackled. Lightning images flashed on the walls. Wind machines picked up, to make this part in the dark feel faster than it was. Then they were rolling through a series of bunny hops that led into the corkscrew.

“Here it comes,” said Mike, but she didn’t hear him. She was looking too hard at a metal bridge. She only knew where it was because she’d seen this coaster with the lights on several times. Something was on the bridge. A shadow, a person, a something.

They went through the corkscrew, and while you’re going through the corkscrew, there’s no time for thinking. They rolled and rolled and rolled and then they were back out, blinded by the daylight.

The shoulder bars released, Janet popped their seat belt, and they pushed their way out. Jeff was there. He extended a hand and helped Janet and Mike.

“Pleasant ride?”

“The best,” said Mike.

“Janet?”

“Yeah,” she said.

“You okay?” said Jeff.

“You know it.”

She turned to Mike. “Burger?”

“No way!”

“Jeff?”

“Hey, still working!”

“Hey!”

“I’m teasing you, Shut up, Captain Tacos?”

She gave mike a high-five.

“Captain Tacos, yeah.”

“See y’all later,”

They waved and went down the ramp out of the ride, passing right by the burger station. It was a mini diner in chrome, with mostly indoor seating and some benches in front.

They headed up the hill to Captain Tacos. It was little more than a walk-up window, with some seating nearby in the sun, but it had the world-famous fried fish tacos, and Janet could eat there every day of her life and never tire of it.

They climbed the hill and came around where Smitty was sitting there cleaning something. He had a long red beard, and an eye patch, a black bandanna on his head.

Janet came up with Mike.

“Mike, what are you doing up here?” said Smitty.

“I gotta eat something else once in a while,”

“Okay, oh, it’s you, Janet. Need both eyes for a woman like you.”

He lifted his eye patch. Both his eyes were fine, crystal blue.

“I want…”

“Fish tacos?”

“You know it.”

“I got your fish tacos.”

“Order up,” said someone from the back, setting them on the counter.

“Here you go.”

She made a move to pay, but Smitty waved them off. “I got this one.”

“Thanks, Smitty.”

She picked hers up. Mike got his.

He lifted a finger, “just remember, world-famous.”

“Always.”

“See you later.” He waved them off.

They took their plates to a nearby bench that was shaped like a giant octopus. They took their seats in giant fiberglass tentacles.

“I hate this bench.”

“Shut up. I like it.”

“Animals, eh? That’s what you want?”

In the distance, an elephant trumpeted.

“I think so. I love taking care of them. Do you have any pets?”

“I got a dog, you?”

“What kind?”

“Sort of brown and black.”

“No, I mean breed.”

“Oh what? I think he’s a dachshund, maybe a mutt.”

“That’s what I mean.”

“You have pets?”

“Three tabby cats, two gray and one red, a corn snake, and a big Rottweiler. “

“Geez, a snake?”

“It’s the dog that’ll bite you. The corn snake is nothing. Easy care.”

“And you think you can keep up with an elephant? You know the first task, right? I knew Ryan before, he quit.”

“Went to college.”

“Whatever. It’s poop patrol.”

“I know.”

“Can you deal with that?”

“Are you afraid it won’t wash off?”

She laughed at him before he could say anything else.

“Yes.”

She laughed at him again, then started working on her tacos. They were fresh, never greasy, crisp yet tender. Every bite was good.

“I’m sorry,” he said as they were finishing up and throwing their trash away. “College isn’t stupid. Neither is following what you want to do. Just because I can’t…”

“Don’t worry about it, and if you want to, you can, no matter what your dad says about it or the burger place.”

“Not me, I…”

“Nothing. If you want it, you can do it.”

“Janet, did you see anything weird on the roller coaster?”

“No?”

“Never mind.”

A towering clock tower looms over a foggy Victorian cityscape. At the top, a massive eagle owl perches within the clock’s inner workings, its piercing eyes glowing in the dim light. Below, a rat detective in a waistcoat and a monocled frog stand in awe, bracing for what’s to come.

Shadow Street Chapter 3

Longevity and Other Stories
A life without end,
stars call from the endless night,
time slips through our hands.
Buy Yours Here:
Amazon - Books2Read

This is a draft version of a chapter from John Saye’s book, Longevity and Other Stories. If you are daring, why not subscribe to my newsletter (they come few and far between), and I’ll send you a PDF copy of the book?

Mr. Curtis munched on the bun. It was a roll flavored with sugar and cinnamon, and a very scant amount of icing kissed the top. It melted in his mouth, which was useful, as he usually liked his sticky buns filled with flies. That poor frog. He choked on me.

I turned around from where I was examining the drain and Mr. Curtis fell to his knees. “Mrs. Smith, get me a rag or something,” I said.

She ran off, her hands on her head, and I scrambled to my friend’s side. The man was on a roll. He hacked and coughed, but he couldn’t get up.

His monocle fell to the ground, but he held his top hat on.

I lifted him, and grasping him tightly around his bulbous body, I wrenched with my fist. He belched and from his throat popped something. I can’t say it was a roll. I can’t say it was an octopus either, but I could tell it was roughly golden brown, covered in what was icing or slime, take your pick, and it was spinning through the air away from us. I could tell tendrils were coming off of it, but it was moving so fast I couldn’t tell if there were three, six, or forty-seven. They were a blur until they hit the wall, and then they slowly flipped and slipped their way down to the floor.

“All right old chap?” I said, patting my friend on the back.

“Yes, yes,” said the frog, and he straightened up his jacket, shined his monocle, which was attached to his lapel with a thin chain, and placed it back in his eye.

We approached it, and looked at the flesh-colored thing, now slightly tinged with green. It squelched on the stone floor and wriggled at us.

“Oh my,” said Mr. Curtis. “What have we here?”

He leaned in and looked it over.

“What strange magic is this?” I said, taking a step back.

“I don’t know, Mr. James, but whatever it is, we have got to sort this out.”

“Indubitably.”

“Hand me that poker.”

I looked around and against the wall was a disused fireplace, with a poker beside it. It was so dark I hadn’t even seen it. I took it. The handle was covered in a fine layer of soot. I wiped it off absently, then gave it to Mr. Curtis, who reached out with it, hooking the little creature on the end of the rod.

Its tentacles closed quickly around the end and explored the poker. Mr. Curtis lifted it.

“Can you get a light?”

“Oh, yes.”

Mrs. Smith returned at that moment and gave me the wet cloth.

“Is he…”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine madam, thank you,” said Mr. Curtis. “Can I… do you have a light?” he was carefully watching the tentacles get closer and closer to his gray-green hand.

“Oh yes,” she said, quickly returning with a lantern.

We boggled at it. It recoiled from the light and crawled as far away from us as it could. Mr. Curtis kept it held in the air.

“Here, you take it for a moment,” he said.

I reached out and grasped the handle.

“Thank you,” he said, first wiping his face while the thing slithered down to grab at me.

I held the lantern up with my other hand and it recoiled again. “Come now, Mr. Curtis. Any ideas?”

“I’m working on it. Let me check something. Just a moment.”

He removed his top hat and looked inside. “Very Interesting.”

“What is that?” said Mrs. Smith.

“That’s an excellent question.”

He fished around in his hat and brought out a few other rolls he’d been saving for later.

“Just rolls. Okay.”

“Looking for a snack there?”

“No, I was wondering if it was the dark.”

He suddenly leaped on my arm, slid down it, yanked the lantern from me, and shuttered it.

“I say. You could have asked…” then I forgot everything as the tendril worked its way toward me. Mrs. Smith screamed as the light went out, then kicked Mr. Curtis for doing it.

There was light from outside, so we were not in complete darkness, but that hardly mattered. I switched hands and then flipped the poker over, holding the pointed end now as the creature explored the handle.

“Watch this,” said the frog.

“Oh no.”

“Here.’ He lit a match and held it under the creature, and frankly a little too close to my elbow, and the roll-creature fell back to the floor and scurried for the drain.

“Quick!”

I did not know what Mr. Curtis wanted me to do,  but he bounded over me, pulling his hat from his head and leap-frogging toward the drain. One of his otherwise shoe-less spats came off his foot, and he slammed his hat down on the drain, just as the creature, for lack of a better term, disappeared down it.

The other rolls Mr. Curtis had been hiding in his hat lay strewn across the floor.

“Why not these?”

“I guess they can’t all be… Mrs. Smith?”

I turned to see her slumped against the door. She was unconscious. I suppose she’d have fallen to the floor entirely if she had been one step further from the door.

“Dr. James,” see if you can revive her, could you?”

“Now you call me Doctor, eh?”

“Please, sir.” Mr. Curtis was down on the floor. He reattached his loose spat and fixed his hat while I got out my smelling salts.

I held them briefly under her nose, holding her head, and waited. After a sniff or two, she awoke with a start.

“I’ll take you both apart. Don’t cross me, you pirate fiend!” she said.

“Mrs. Smith?”

“Sorry. What did I just…”

“Don’t worry about it. Can you get up?”

“I think so.”

I helped her up and took her by the hand back to her bakery. Mr. Curtis followed us a moment later.

The place was bustling a bit.

“Oh dear, the lunch crowd is coming in, and we aren’t ready!” She fixed her apron.

“Are you…” she said.

“Yes,” I said.

“We’ll take it from here.”

“We’re on the case.”

Mr. Curtis and I took a booth near a side window, and he gingerly placed a bun from his hat on the table. He stared at it, leaning deeply in to get a close look. He nudged it with a fork.

“Mr. Curtis.”

“I want to go through her stock.”

“Poking them all.”

“Maybe later. Say au revoir for us. I’ll go get us a cab. “

He stood up and pushed several rolls into his hat.

“Where are we going?”

“To see the owl.”

“The one in the…”

“Yes, now go.”

I went off and explained that we had a lead and would return shortly, then went outside to see Mr. Curtis patting the dog and hopping into the carriage.

“Yes, that’s right,” said Curtis to the dog. “Oh good, here he comes.”

I crossed the busy sidewalk and opened the carriage door. “Hello Charles, are you well?” I said to the dog.

“Very good sir,” He barked at me.

I stepped in and sat across from the bullfrog, looking backward. Almost immediately, the cab sped off, and I had to hold on. I’d forgotten how Charles was, and sometimes I think the old dog just enjoys running through the larger puddles.

We hit a bump, and I went flying from one side to the other and ended up on the floor. I got up, dusted myself off, stooping a bit, and sat back down. I don’t know how Mr. Curtis stayed calmly where he was, but I suspect it had something to do with his little sticky feet.

I brushed my waistcoat and jacket down, in time for Charles to yell from outside the carriage, “Tallyho!” and we took another sharp corner, too fast for my liking. I was upside down, looking at Mr. Curtis, looking into his hat at the rolls. He took one out and licked it inquisitively.

“Please don’t eat another one, not here,” I said.

“No, dear boy. I’m not quite that stupid.”

I waited for it.

“Though many times I am moderately stupid.”

I rested my chin on my fist.

“Sometimes doing something wonderfully dumb can yield such interesting results.”

“Just don’t eat…”

“I know, I know. Choking isn’t my favorite way to find a clue either.”

“Tallyho!”

I grabbed onto my seat, and a strap that hung above the window for this, and nothing happened. I was just about to relax when…

“Sorry, here we go,” came from Charles ahead of us.

We slashed through a magnificent puddle that caused sheets of water on both sides of the car to spray up, and the corresponding bumps in the road left me scrambling for the strap on the other side of my bench seat.

“Good grief.”

I clung to the chair. Mr. Curtis just put his hat back on.

Soon we came to a stop.

“Thank goodness.”

I turned the handle and let myself out.

Mr. Curtis bounded out.

“Dr. James, give Charlie there a coin or two.”

“Very well.” I fished in my pockets and dropped the coins into Charles’s hip pouch.

“Thank you kindly,” said the dog, and he winked at me.

The streets were quiet.

“Curtis, no one comes here.”

“I know.”

“We’re liable to get carried off.”

“He’ll see us.”

“He should eat us.”

“In a normal world, I’d say you were right.”

Before us was the city’s clock tower. It looked over everything, rang the hour faintly in the distance, and everyone knew you don’t go too close to the clock tower because the owl would surely snatch you up.

I looked up and saw it closer than I ever wanted to, through the crack of the clock’s face. It was a large triangular missing piece of stained glass.

“I never noticed that the eight was missing,” I said.

“How do you think he gets in and out then?” said Curtis.

We made our way up the stairs, into what worked as a lobby on the clock tower’s main floor.

“We are not supposed to be…”

“Come on rat. Get with it.”

I was nose-to-nose with Mr. Curtis. He rarely did this to me.

“I… uh…”

“Now come on, this way.”

He hopped ahead of me. The lobby was made of marble and gold, but the doors we came through were broken and there were leaves, dust, debris, and old newspapers everywhere. I followed him through. It certainly didn’t look like anyone used this entrance. I’d still keep my guard up, though. I wished I’d had my gun.

He pressed the elevator button with his green finger. It lit up, and while we were waiting, he took his hat off again, took out a roll, put the hat back on, and played with the roll like it was a ball, rolling it around his fingers.

The door opened, and we stepped in.

“Let’s see, what floor…”

“The top,” said the frog. “Don’t fiddle about.”

The elevator whisked us away after I pressed the button. I could feel the pit of my stomach drop and was grateful I couldn’t see outside. I closed my eyes and listened to the ding after floors went by until the doors opened and I could see everything.

The windows went all the way around this floor, and I could see the whole town, including our little nook down on Shadow Street.

I heard something clamp and rustle above me, and a single feather fell at my feet, clearly as long as I was tall.

I slowly looked up into the inner workings of the clock to see an enormous eagle owl standing above us.

I could not move.

Mr. Curtis was practically beaming.