Post by tjkernan on Dec 22, 2011 16:07:51 GMT -5
Ultimate WildC.A.T.S. Christmas Special 2011
"A Past Of Christmas Ghosts"
TJKernan
Manchester Black slowly crept down the hallway, careful to make as little noise as possible. Not an easy task in hallway full of old creaking boards, but Manchester had maneuvered the path so many times under the cover of darkness that if anybody could do it, he was the man for the job. He slowly slid open the door, just enough to avoid the creak, and looked inside. The flickering nightlight confirmed his hopes. There, covered beneath her favorite raggedy old red blanket, his little sister Vera slept soundly. Manchester watched her for a couple of moments, as she quietly mumbled something to herself, lost in the dreams of a ten year old, then he turned as made his quiet steps back down the hallway.
Manchester stopped before the front door to the house and looked into the living room. Mum was passed out in front of the telly, a bottle of vodka mostly emptied sitting next to her on the coffee table. Mum mumbled something to herself, and snorted, and turned over, her back turned outside.
Manchester looked around the unkept room in disgust. Here it was, December 24th, and there were no Christmas decorations in the room, except for a little paper Christmas tree Vera had made at school, and there certainly were no presents of any kind. Just drunk woman asleep on the couch, a rerun of M.A.S.H. flickering on the telly, and a coffee table strewn with old chip bags and an ashtray piled high with cigarettes.
Manchester crinkled his nose in disgust as he turned towards the front door and grabbed the knob. He turned it slowly, just to be careful. he doubted the drunk asleep on the couch would notice if he flung the door open and slammed it against the wall, but he didn't want to take the chance of waking Vera down the hall. He didn't want to awake and think Santa Claus was walking in with a bag full of gifts or worse, dad coming home.
As much a piece of work their drunken mum was, Mister Paul Black had her beat by a mile. A life-long grifter, philanderer, and never do-well, Manchester highly doubted the man would be returning home this evening. Which was hardly a bad thing. In all likelihood, he would finish out his evening down at Tully's Bar, and take some whatever piece of bloody skank was desperate enough to fulfill his Christmas wish. Better for the family though, as he could slap her around instead of drunken mum.
Manchester walked down the cracked pieces of pavement that made up the walkway down the street. Most people would be scared to walk this street this time of night. Manchester had no fear though. First off, because he had a reputation in the neighborhood . Nobody messed with him, and the pistol tucked in the side of his belt certainly didn't hurt that perception. Secondly, because he had powers. Special powers he had only recently discovered. He could mess with people's heads. He could hear some of their thoughts. He could make them see things that weren't really there.
Manchester pushed a board out of the way in the fence that stood before him, and slipped through. He walked into the old, unkept junk yard of Mr. McPherson. Before going any further he stopped and concentrated for a moment, focusing his attention upon the house. Old man McPherson was inside, drinking a cup of hot chocolate with some peppermint liquor in it. More importantly he was petting his doberman Steely. That meant the dog was not out in the yard, and that allowed Manchester a quick trip across the yard, saving him having to walk around the block to reach his destination.
Manchester made his way through the yard and walked another two blocks, until he finally stood outside his destination. The Quick and Easy Mart.
Manchester propped himself up against the dark wall of Derrick's Tire and lube and looked past the gas pumps into the well-lit convenience store. Unlike every other business, other than a couple of bars down the street, The Quick and Easy mart was still open on Christmas Eve, even as it got close to almost eleven o'clock at night. That was because the owner, a small, older Asian man named Lo Hung, did not celebrate any western holidays, and he had no family living in the city.
Manchester watched as a a couple pulled up in a clunky station wagon, the woman in the passenger side got out of the vehicle, fumbling through a handful of ones and some change. The male in the driver seat got out as well, and two got into an argument about how much cash they should spend on gas and how much on a pack of cigarettes. Manchester just looked at them in contempt. They reminded him of his parents-small, lazy, and disgusted. Manchester wasn't going to be like these people when he was an adult. Nor was Vera. They were going to break out from this grimy world and be something more. Much more, and Manchester didn't care how many of these small people he would have to crush underneath his boot heels to get there.
Manchester kept watching as the man pumped the gas and the woman went inside to pay. Soon, the woman emerged with the pack of smokes, opening them and grabbing one for herself, then throwing the pack at the man, who called her a 'bitch', then the two got into their vehicle and drove off into the darkness.
Manchester closed his eyes and thought to himself for a moment, concentrating. He then opened his eyes slowly and looked at Lo Hung, who he could see at the register through the metal bars and glass of the windows. Then he began to walk towards the building.
Inside The Quick and Easy Mart, Lo Hung was counting the change in had just placed in the register. He was glad that woman was gone. Not that he didn't want her money, he always wanted people's money, but that woman had smelled bad. Very bad, like she hadn't bathed in a week, or if she did, it was in bath water of dirt and cigarette butts.
The little bell to the door jingled, and lo Hung looked across the counter. An older woman walked into the door. She was a very nice-looking woman, wearing a mauve sweater and a white dress. Her hair was grey and done up in a bun.
Lo Hung nodded and smiled as the woman walked into the store and down towards aisle that contained a variety of different seasonal items he carried. He turned and looked outside to see what gas pump her car was at, but found no car there. Also, there was no car parked in the spaces in front of the building. That is rather odd, Lo Hung thought to himself. This woman looked to be in her seventies, and yet she had walked here? Also, Lo Hung had owned the store for ten years, and knew most of the regular shoppers, and he had never seen the woman before.
"Can I he'p you ma'am?" asked Lo Hung, rather loudly.
The older woman just brushed her right hand, waving him off, as she picked up several boxed dolls from the small selection of toys. Lo Hung watched as the woman then went walked back to the front of the store and smiled as she picked up a small shopping basket and put the dolls in it. As she began to walk back down the aisle Lo Hung noticed a Lincoln pull up to the pumps. Two younger black men got out, and one began to pump gas while the other came inside. Lo Hung busied himself taking the man's money for the gas, as well as a couple backs of cigarettes, two forties of malt liquor, a handful of candy bars, and a pack of cards.
Lo Hung watched as the men finished pumping their gas and drove away. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement, and turned to see the old lady standing at the counter. Her little basket was full. Besides the two dolls, there were several bottles of soda, a large bag of chips, a couple of pre-packaged turkey sandwiches, and several bags of Christmas candy. The woman hurled the basket on top of the counter.
As Lo Hung began to ring up the items on the register, the old lady finally smoke.
"And a carton of British Silver unfiltered please."
Lo Hung chuckled to himself as he turned around and grabbed a carton of the cigarettes down. He rang them across the register and placed them in the bag.
"Anything else?" asked Lo, half expecting the old lady, at this pount, to ask for a gallon of rum.
"Just all the money in that register there sweetie..."
Lo Hung looked up, the words not quite yet registering. He looked at the old lady, who now had a pistol steadied in both her hands, with the barrel pointing right between his eyes.
"Now, listen good," said the grandma, "let's make this simple. You put all the money in that register into the bags, and I won't put a slug into your brain. You make a move for that pistol you have under the counter, you are dead. You try and trip the alarm, you are dead. Just give me my goods, and give me my money, sonny, and I will let you live through this festive holiday..."
To push her point, the old lady used her thumb to click the safety off the pistol.
Lo Hung looked at the serious demeanor of the elderly lady and decided it was best to comply. After all, he could trip the alarm the second she was off, and where was she going to go. She had no vehicle. It would not be hard for the police to catch a crazy granny walking the street with a pistol and a couple bags full of groceries.
The money stuffed into the bags, along with all the goods, the grandma placed the pistol in one hand, and grabbed the bags with the other. As she made her escape to the door, she noticed a car pulling into the far gas pumped. She quickly retreated out the door, and ran around the corner of the building. Lo Hung quickly tripped the alarm button underneath the counter and grabbed his pistol. He ran around the counter and opened the front door, yelling. The man getting out of his Chevy pointed at the corner the old woman ran around. Lo Hung ran around the corner, but saw nothing. There was no old lady in the darkness. Nobody was there.
Several minutes later, several blocks away, Manchester Black let all the illusions slip away. He opened up the carton of cigarettes and pulled out a pack. He opened the pack and slipped one into his mouth, and lit up his smoke, taking a big drag.
After a big puff he smiled to himself, and spoke quietly to nobody in particular, "Merry Christmas Vera..."
"A Past Of Christmas Ghosts"
TJKernan
Manchester Black slowly crept down the hallway, careful to make as little noise as possible. Not an easy task in hallway full of old creaking boards, but Manchester had maneuvered the path so many times under the cover of darkness that if anybody could do it, he was the man for the job. He slowly slid open the door, just enough to avoid the creak, and looked inside. The flickering nightlight confirmed his hopes. There, covered beneath her favorite raggedy old red blanket, his little sister Vera slept soundly. Manchester watched her for a couple of moments, as she quietly mumbled something to herself, lost in the dreams of a ten year old, then he turned as made his quiet steps back down the hallway.
Manchester stopped before the front door to the house and looked into the living room. Mum was passed out in front of the telly, a bottle of vodka mostly emptied sitting next to her on the coffee table. Mum mumbled something to herself, and snorted, and turned over, her back turned outside.
Manchester looked around the unkept room in disgust. Here it was, December 24th, and there were no Christmas decorations in the room, except for a little paper Christmas tree Vera had made at school, and there certainly were no presents of any kind. Just drunk woman asleep on the couch, a rerun of M.A.S.H. flickering on the telly, and a coffee table strewn with old chip bags and an ashtray piled high with cigarettes.
Manchester crinkled his nose in disgust as he turned towards the front door and grabbed the knob. He turned it slowly, just to be careful. he doubted the drunk asleep on the couch would notice if he flung the door open and slammed it against the wall, but he didn't want to take the chance of waking Vera down the hall. He didn't want to awake and think Santa Claus was walking in with a bag full of gifts or worse, dad coming home.
As much a piece of work their drunken mum was, Mister Paul Black had her beat by a mile. A life-long grifter, philanderer, and never do-well, Manchester highly doubted the man would be returning home this evening. Which was hardly a bad thing. In all likelihood, he would finish out his evening down at Tully's Bar, and take some whatever piece of bloody skank was desperate enough to fulfill his Christmas wish. Better for the family though, as he could slap her around instead of drunken mum.
Manchester walked down the cracked pieces of pavement that made up the walkway down the street. Most people would be scared to walk this street this time of night. Manchester had no fear though. First off, because he had a reputation in the neighborhood . Nobody messed with him, and the pistol tucked in the side of his belt certainly didn't hurt that perception. Secondly, because he had powers. Special powers he had only recently discovered. He could mess with people's heads. He could hear some of their thoughts. He could make them see things that weren't really there.
Manchester pushed a board out of the way in the fence that stood before him, and slipped through. He walked into the old, unkept junk yard of Mr. McPherson. Before going any further he stopped and concentrated for a moment, focusing his attention upon the house. Old man McPherson was inside, drinking a cup of hot chocolate with some peppermint liquor in it. More importantly he was petting his doberman Steely. That meant the dog was not out in the yard, and that allowed Manchester a quick trip across the yard, saving him having to walk around the block to reach his destination.
Manchester made his way through the yard and walked another two blocks, until he finally stood outside his destination. The Quick and Easy Mart.
Manchester propped himself up against the dark wall of Derrick's Tire and lube and looked past the gas pumps into the well-lit convenience store. Unlike every other business, other than a couple of bars down the street, The Quick and Easy mart was still open on Christmas Eve, even as it got close to almost eleven o'clock at night. That was because the owner, a small, older Asian man named Lo Hung, did not celebrate any western holidays, and he had no family living in the city.
Manchester watched as a a couple pulled up in a clunky station wagon, the woman in the passenger side got out of the vehicle, fumbling through a handful of ones and some change. The male in the driver seat got out as well, and two got into an argument about how much cash they should spend on gas and how much on a pack of cigarettes. Manchester just looked at them in contempt. They reminded him of his parents-small, lazy, and disgusted. Manchester wasn't going to be like these people when he was an adult. Nor was Vera. They were going to break out from this grimy world and be something more. Much more, and Manchester didn't care how many of these small people he would have to crush underneath his boot heels to get there.
Manchester kept watching as the man pumped the gas and the woman went inside to pay. Soon, the woman emerged with the pack of smokes, opening them and grabbing one for herself, then throwing the pack at the man, who called her a 'bitch', then the two got into their vehicle and drove off into the darkness.
Manchester closed his eyes and thought to himself for a moment, concentrating. He then opened his eyes slowly and looked at Lo Hung, who he could see at the register through the metal bars and glass of the windows. Then he began to walk towards the building.
Inside The Quick and Easy Mart, Lo Hung was counting the change in had just placed in the register. He was glad that woman was gone. Not that he didn't want her money, he always wanted people's money, but that woman had smelled bad. Very bad, like she hadn't bathed in a week, or if she did, it was in bath water of dirt and cigarette butts.
The little bell to the door jingled, and lo Hung looked across the counter. An older woman walked into the door. She was a very nice-looking woman, wearing a mauve sweater and a white dress. Her hair was grey and done up in a bun.
Lo Hung nodded and smiled as the woman walked into the store and down towards aisle that contained a variety of different seasonal items he carried. He turned and looked outside to see what gas pump her car was at, but found no car there. Also, there was no car parked in the spaces in front of the building. That is rather odd, Lo Hung thought to himself. This woman looked to be in her seventies, and yet she had walked here? Also, Lo Hung had owned the store for ten years, and knew most of the regular shoppers, and he had never seen the woman before.
"Can I he'p you ma'am?" asked Lo Hung, rather loudly.
The older woman just brushed her right hand, waving him off, as she picked up several boxed dolls from the small selection of toys. Lo Hung watched as the woman then went walked back to the front of the store and smiled as she picked up a small shopping basket and put the dolls in it. As she began to walk back down the aisle Lo Hung noticed a Lincoln pull up to the pumps. Two younger black men got out, and one began to pump gas while the other came inside. Lo Hung busied himself taking the man's money for the gas, as well as a couple backs of cigarettes, two forties of malt liquor, a handful of candy bars, and a pack of cards.
Lo Hung watched as the men finished pumping their gas and drove away. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement, and turned to see the old lady standing at the counter. Her little basket was full. Besides the two dolls, there were several bottles of soda, a large bag of chips, a couple of pre-packaged turkey sandwiches, and several bags of Christmas candy. The woman hurled the basket on top of the counter.
As Lo Hung began to ring up the items on the register, the old lady finally smoke.
"And a carton of British Silver unfiltered please."
Lo Hung chuckled to himself as he turned around and grabbed a carton of the cigarettes down. He rang them across the register and placed them in the bag.
"Anything else?" asked Lo, half expecting the old lady, at this pount, to ask for a gallon of rum.
"Just all the money in that register there sweetie..."
Lo Hung looked up, the words not quite yet registering. He looked at the old lady, who now had a pistol steadied in both her hands, with the barrel pointing right between his eyes.
"Now, listen good," said the grandma, "let's make this simple. You put all the money in that register into the bags, and I won't put a slug into your brain. You make a move for that pistol you have under the counter, you are dead. You try and trip the alarm, you are dead. Just give me my goods, and give me my money, sonny, and I will let you live through this festive holiday..."
To push her point, the old lady used her thumb to click the safety off the pistol.
Lo Hung looked at the serious demeanor of the elderly lady and decided it was best to comply. After all, he could trip the alarm the second she was off, and where was she going to go. She had no vehicle. It would not be hard for the police to catch a crazy granny walking the street with a pistol and a couple bags full of groceries.
The money stuffed into the bags, along with all the goods, the grandma placed the pistol in one hand, and grabbed the bags with the other. As she made her escape to the door, she noticed a car pulling into the far gas pumped. She quickly retreated out the door, and ran around the corner of the building. Lo Hung quickly tripped the alarm button underneath the counter and grabbed his pistol. He ran around the counter and opened the front door, yelling. The man getting out of his Chevy pointed at the corner the old woman ran around. Lo Hung ran around the corner, but saw nothing. There was no old lady in the darkness. Nobody was there.
Several minutes later, several blocks away, Manchester Black let all the illusions slip away. He opened up the carton of cigarettes and pulled out a pack. He opened the pack and slipped one into his mouth, and lit up his smoke, taking a big drag.
After a big puff he smiled to himself, and spoke quietly to nobody in particular, "Merry Christmas Vera..."