The Importance of Family History

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The Kindle version of this story is available free on Amazon.

The main character, Wanda Wollow, dreams of have adventures and traveling when she is older.  She thinks her parents and grandparents are boring and have never done anything interesting in their lives.

One day, Wanda comes across a journal in her attic and begins to read it.  She is austonded by all the things her family did in the past.  She quickly learns her parents and grandparents had amazing adventures in their youth and learns the importance of knowing her family history.

The Cannibalistic Ghost

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My name is Jason Prescott and my story starts on an ordinary day, doing ordinary things. Isn’t that how these stories always start?

My wife Lacy and I decided to spend our Saturday afternoon checking out local antique stores.  Lacy found a beautiful table.  It was large, made of sold oak, and exquisite looking.  The price tag said the table was marked down to ten dollars; however, it was easily worth a hundred times that amount.

That probably should have been a clue that something was wrong.  In our excitement, we didn’t even think about that and bought the table on the spot.

We put the table in our dinning room and went to bed.  I kept hearing strange noises throughout the night.  It sounded like wind sweeping through tree leaves.  I checked all the windows to make sure they were closed and then I went back to bed.

In the morning, I went into the dinning room and found our new table was covered in a red sticky substance.  I asked my wife about it and she was just as flabbergasted as I was.

We cleaned the table and took the dirty rags to the laundry room.  When we returned our table was once again covered in red sticky stuff and a man was standing next to it.

This was no ordinary man.  I could see right through him, so I figured he had to be a ghost.  His eyes were evil and when he opened his mouth, blood came pouring out of it.

We both screamed and rushed out of the house.

I went to the antique store and asked the owner about the table.  At first she tried to ignore me and kept saying she didn’t accept returns.  Finally, I got in her face and yelled, “What are you not telling me!”

She looked down in shame and said the table belonged to Frank Stein.  Frank was a serial killer that used to cook his victims and serve them to his unsuspecting friends on that table.  He was executed just a few weeks ago.

I was sickened by the very thought of what Frank had done.  I started trembling with fear.  My wife was home alone with the ghost of a cannibal.

I jumped in my car and flew home.  I was speeding out of control and ran every stop sign along the way.  I had to get back as soon as possible.

Part of me was thinking, “This is crazy.  There is no such thing as ghosts.  What could a ghost do anyway?”  I also know what I saw in my dinning room.  I know Frank Stein is in my house and just as evil now as he was when he was alive.

I entered the house and called out to my wife several times, but she didn’t answer.  I approached the dinning room door, I was filled with so much fear my body reacted by vomiting on the floor.  My head was spinning and I felt like I was about to faint.

I slowly raised my hand and opened the door.  There was my wife dead on the table and Frank Stein was standing over her with a fork and a knife.  Frank looked at me with an evil grin. His eyes blazed red and blood was dripping from his mouth.

I screamed and started running toward the front door.  It felt like my legs were made of rubber.  I could feel Frank’s breath on the back of my neck and it smelled rotten.  Somehow, I made it out the door and collapsed in the yard.

Frank stood at the window and started laughing.

I went to the garage and grabbed several cans of gasoline.  I poured the gas all around the house and set it on fire.  It may seem drastic, but I wanted to destroy Frank and everything he touched in the house.

The fire department and the police arrived on the scene.  I was questioned extensively, of course no one believed my story.

I was convicted of murdering my wife and sentenced to spend the remainder of my life in the Shelly Psychiatric Center for the Criminally Insane.

My only comfort is knowing I severed Frank Stein’s tie to this world and he can never harm another person.

My Extra-Terrestrial Friend (A Short Story)

My name is Dr. Haley Armstrong and I have an extra-terrestrial friend.

It all started in 2147, while I was working at the Mars Research Laboratory (Site A).  The lab was old and rarely used, so I was alone that day.  A massive storm was raging on the planet, so all I could see was clouds of red dust swirling around the facility.  That’s why I never noticed the small spacecraft approaching the launch bay.

The first time I actually got a glimpse of Triad was on the security camera.  I am not ashamed to say, I almost fainted.  Triad walked down the corridor and bypassed the security code on each door, as if it was child’s play.  He was tall and slender.  His skin had a distinctive greenish tint, but the funniest thing about him was his attire.  He was dressed like a 20th century hippy.

Triad reached the door outside my room and looked into the camera.  He asked if he could come inside the room to talk to me.  It’s not like he needed my permission.  There was nothing I could do to stop him.

My body was trembling with fear and I wanted to hide.  However, I also longed to meet this strange individual at my door.  After a few tense moments, Triad smiled and said, “I understand.  I will wait out here until you are ready to talk to me.”

He seemed so polite and didn’t look threatening at all.  I opened the door, even though my brain was screaming for me to stop.

Triad introduced himself.  He was an anthropology student and specialized in galactic studies.  He was working on a research project and was given strict instructions to never make contact with any Earthlings, because we are irrational and have violent tendencies.

For some reason, Triad sensed I was different.  He was taking a great risk by coming to meet me.  If he was captured by unscrupulous scientist, he would probably be killed and dissected for the purpose of scientific research.

If his existence became public knowledge, it would lead to wide spread panic and destruction.  However, Triad believed in my peaceful nature and in my ability to keep our friendship a secret.

I just stared at him.  I was completely at a loss for words.  My mind was spinning, as if a tornado was jumbling up each thought and I couldn’t even manage to say my own name.

Triad paused for a second and laughed.  He said, “I know my appearance is rather shocking.”

After what seemed like an eternity, I was finally able to introduce myself.  There was a gleam of happiness in Triad’s eyes.  He extended his hand saying, “I believe your people grasp each other’s hand as a sign of friendship.  Is that correct?”

I was finally starting to relax, so I reached out and took his hand.  His skin was warm and silky smooth.

We talked for hours.  He told me all about his planet and his people.  They are a peaceful bunch.  There hasn’t been a war in just over 5 millennium.  Their life span is on average 250 years.

Triad was 82, but still was not old enough to teach at the educational centers.  He recently completed his mandatory studies and would spend the next 15 to 20 years conducting field research.

I asked Triad about intergalactic space travel.  He tried to explain it to me, but it was way beyond my comprehension.

I told Triad about my family and my future aspirations.  We talked about life on Earth and what it was like to work at the Mars research laboratory.  It was a great privilege; only the best scientist are allowed to work on Mars.  We spend one year on Mars and then return to Earth for at least two years.

Triad decided to try some of the food I had with me, but it literally made him vomit.  He was so embarrassed and apologized profusely.  Now, it was my turn to laugh.

The storm was starting to clear and Triad said he must leave.  He didn’t want anyone in the other laboratories  to see him or his spacecraft.

I stammered a few words that didn’t make much sense, even to me.  I desperately wanted to continue talking to Triad.  He looked at me with understanding and said he would also like to communicate with me in the future.

Triad handed me a black device, about the size of my thumb.  The front of the device had three red lights and each side had a button.  The back of the device was covered in tiny writing that looked like some kind of crazy mathematical equation.

Triad asked me, “Do you know Morse code?”

I looked at him with astonishment.  I told him, “It’s an antiquated form of communication.  Nobody uses it.”

Triad learned Morse code as part of his studies.  He created a cheatsheet for me, so I could learn it too.  Then he taught me how to use the device.  I could use it to send Triad messages in Morse code and he would respond back in kind.

If someone accidentally found the device, it would look like random light impulses that can be used for relaxation or meditation.  I would be the only person able to understand the messages created by the flashing lights.

As Triad turned to leave, I screamed “Wait!”  I rushed over to him and grabbed him in an embrace.  Tears were pouring down my face.  Between each sobbing breath, I managed to tell Triad how grateful I was for his trust and how much I looked forward to communicating with him in the future.

Triad was surprised by my display of emotions.  He responded by saying, “Now I know, I have a true Earth friend.  I hope one day, I will be able to see you in person once again.”

Triad left and I haven’t seen him since that day.  However, we send messages to each other frequently.  Triad is my extra-terrestrial pen-pal and a true (all be it strange) friend.

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