A little while ago I wrote a short story for the L. Ron
Hubbard "Writers of the
Future Contest". I did not win, and I know why, my story is
really more horror than Science Fiction or Fantasy. But I decided that I
will post each chapter here on my blog. There are 37 very short chapters,
for a total of 15,000 words, about a fifth of a modern novel. Here
is the start.
Chapter 17:
“What is your shoe size?” The clown
was on his last question about the dimensions of Wilton and now nearly ready to
make a guess as to the weight of the man.
“13.” Wilton had already given the
standard assortment of answers to whatever it was he was talking to, whatever
had made itself look like a color deficient clown for this little meeting. “Though I am unsure as to what brand of shoe
you are imagining, because in the past I prefer a slightly looser fit in my
Nikes.”
'How in the hell is he doing that?'
Maxwell stood more of less in awe of Wilton being able to joke at the Clown,
Wilton having picked up on the game aspect; the need to play along. Maxwell
knew Wilton had been in bad places before, but this seemed to be hitting him
outside any possible comfort zone. Maxwell
moved his fingers across the bat he was holding, the little grooves in the side
giving him no comfort, but what the hell else did they have? Maxwell stood there and watched as Wilton
stepped onto the pressure plate.
The clown made a few scribbling
gestures in the air, mumbled some calculations: “Carry the four,” “Accounting
for the wind resistance,” “Your mother came from a particular climate, have to
account for that too,” and then let loose his prediction: “Too heavy!”
The Clown then jerked fast a lever
next to the pressure plate, at which moment the plate dropped out from beneath
Wilton. His eyes, much like Maxwell’s,
went wide as he tried to grasp outward to stop his fall. He fell into darkness, a darkness that was
quickly covered by a pressure plate which now could more accurately be
described as a trap door.
Maxwell turned fast to the Clown
and drew back the bat. The Clown, for its
part, smiled and asked: “So, would you like to play now?”
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