titsmurf

Spam

The closest he had ever gotten to being killed, before he opened the letter, was when he carelessly ran across a busy street. He was six at the time, and there wasn't a car in sight. I guess you could say he was not very a very adventurous person. Perhaps that's why they sent him the letter.

Where other children dreamth of becoming firemen, or policemen, he dreamth of becoming a lawyer. He liked the idea of manipulating the truth for personal gain. That's what he wanted to do more than anything else in the world. So that's what he got himself. Now, at the age of 42, he was one of those ambulance chasers. And quite proud of it too. The money was good, and the job didn't require much creative thinking. It was all routine. Routine was what his entire life had been based on, and he dreamth it would remain that way until he retired.

And then, all that changed. It was nine 'o clock, and the weather was lovely.

Jeremy Turner, aged 42, sat down, and opened all his letters, arranging them in two neat piles. One for the private stuff, and one for the advertisements. All part of his morning routine. When he got to the last one in the private stash, he could hardly believe what he was reading.

Hi Jeremy.

You don't know me. I'm writing to you on behalf of a higher power. I know this is hard to believe, but it's true. Don't worry, though. This could turn out to be either the best decision you've ever made, or the worst one. The choice is yours.

In order to please this power, you must send this letter to two people you wish well, and you must also send a fifty dollar bill to the enclosed adress.

If you fail to follow these simple orders, bad things will surely happen to you. Do not break the chain!
- Zux.

'Well I'll be damned,' he thought. He neatly moved the letter onto the garbage stash, and then browsed through the advertisements until he was ready for work. The last time he ever saw his chain letter, was when he threw away the spaghetti's his papershredding machine made of it. But that was not the end of it.

Fast forward 3 weeks. It was ten 'o clock, and the weather was lovely.

Jeremy gets up, and slips into his morning shoes. He likes calling them morning shoes, although they're really just slippers. He shaves, rubbing intense amounts of shaving cream all over the places where hair just might appear, and then carefully peeling his face with his razor. Real men always use a knife to shave with. And so does Jeremy. "Today is going to be great", he says. He says it again right after dinner, and then once more - the last time - twenty three seconds before his car explodes.

He had just found his keys, and was about to return to his jaguar when he heard the loud bang. The first thought that fired through his brain was: "I'm dead". The second one, which came a seemingly endless 20 seconds later, was: "Wow. Thank God I forgot my keys on the kitchen table." If he had gotten into his car after he opening the door to the drivers seat, instead of going into his kitchen to find his keys, he'd have surely been dead. The remains of his car were very clear on that.

Instead of being shocked, like any normal person would be, Jeremy's thrilled at finally being able to star in a lawsuit of his own. The jaguar company is not going to get out of this one with a settlement. He's also a bit scared, but the feeling passes soon.

Fast forward another week. Jeremy is driving his replacement car down the highway to work. It's nine thirty, and the weather is lovely.

Suddently, he notices a small red audi that he thinks is following him. He drives into a parking lot, to check if it'll drive after him. And sure enough, it does. He parks. The other car also parks, in front of Jeremy's parking space - so as to block our hero's exit route.

"Yo. Jeremy. Get into my car, man. There's something I want to talk to you about."
"I'm sorry. You'll have to make an appointment- ", Jeremy begins.
"Get in, motherfucker."

The doors to a car are meanth to withstand the force of another car ramming into them at high speed, without giving in. They are pretty hard. And they feel even harder when they hit you in the face. Jeremy knows this now. Noticing, far too late - as usual - that the situation is rather serious, he gets in.

Conversation takes place. Here's how it went:

Man: "Look. You got a letter a few weeks ago, right?"
- Jeremy: "I get lots of letters."
"A letter by a man named Zux. "
- "Sorry?"
"You were supposed to send him a fifty dollar bill. You didn't. Very bad move, man."

The man's eyes told Jeremy that it, indeed, had been a very bad move. He had never wished he wasn't where he presently was more.

- "Okay. I assume that by paying you these fifty dollars, we can end this."
"Nah. Too late, man. You now have a debt to Zux."
- "B..."
"Shh. Let me explain. It will all become clear."

Fast forward to the next morning. It was four thirty in the morning, and the weather was shit. Everything was shit. Jeremy has quit his job, and is now working hard to pay off his debt to the organisation. They told him to. And after seeing the pictures of what happened to those who didn't, he couldn't comply fast enough (just looking at those polaroids made him 5% infertile. Which was still 95% more than the poor guy in the picture, if he survived it). He has just mailed his two letters, and he's going to stalk his victims for the next month, making sure they'll pay. In the trunk of his car lies a bomb, which he can use to blow up their car. If they still haven't sent in their 50 dollars after that, he'll stop their car, and force them to pay off their debt. And then they will have to take his place, just as he had to with the man in the car last night.

Somewhere else, someone else is getting very rich by doing nothing at all. He's the spider, hiding in a constantly expanding web. His name is James Elwood, but his friends and his victims call him Zux. He may own your ass someday.

Angel

Hmm...interesting story.
There is always a "spider" spinning it's webs, waiting to draw in it's victims.
Hope you post more here.

__________________


In the depth of winter, I finally learned that there was within me an invincible summer.
~Albert Camus

titsmurf

Thanks for reading the story, Angel. I'm trying to get better at writing, so as long as people keep reading them, I'll keep writing and posting them.

I hope everybody kind of understands how the whole chain letter/scaring people into paying/taking the place of the person who scared you if you don't pay up thing works. I was too busy rushing the ending to describe it good enough. I really should pace my stories better.