Mr. Bowers

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Ashley Louise
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Mr. Bowers

Post by Ashley Louise » 09 Sep 2019, 13:07

Mr. Bowers slowly lowered himself into his worn old armchair, the seat indented to fit his shape, for so long had he occupied it. His knees creaked like ancient tree trunks as he descended. As he settled himself down, he spread his arms against the armrests luxuriously, much like a king would on a grand throne. Every movement he made appeared to occur in slow motion, his body no longer able to deal with life at what most people would describe as normal speed.

He slowly removed his brown slippers and lifted his legs to rest on the footstool before him. Getting up to turn on the television was an arduous task for Mr. Bowers, and he tired easily. He exhaled deeply, and closed his eyes briefly, savoring the calming few moments when his aged muscles began to relax.

His face was deeply wrinkled; marking the many years he had inhabited this Earth. His skin was yellowed with age, much like the pages of a worn book, and was scattered haphazardly with liver spots. His pale eyes radiated kindness; they reflected all the good deeds he had done over the years. Yet there was a curious glint to it, easy to miss and very subtle, a glint that suggested something hidden beneath the kind veneer.

Mr. Bowers reached for the remote control on the side table, groaning as he did so like a withered oak, and began to mindlessly flick through the channels. Finding nothing on that interested him he selected a news channel.

"...missing for three days now, and was last seen on a surveillance camera in the Maplewood area, making his way home from work. It is believed..."

Mr. Bowers reached for his fresh cup of tea and licked his lips eagerly as he raised the beverage to his lips. He gulped the hot drink greedily before setting it back down on the table half-empty.

The small bungalow that he occupied would be described by most people as "comfortable". Whilst it was not the home of a person with a copious amount of money it contained the necessities to a content home. It had that musty smell that comes with the build up of dust and age; Mr. Bowers' arthritis prevented him from cleaning the bungalow thoroughly and efficiently. In fact, a layer of dust could be witnessed draped across the various knickknacks on the living room mantelpiece, covering them like a translucent cloak. Despite the dusty surroundings, it was a home quite obviously occupied by a loving octogenarian, and the warm glow of the lighting conveyed a feeling of comfort and security.

However, the musty smell of the house was almost overpowered by another smell. A smell difficult to locate. A smell difficult to comprehend. It smelt unpleasant, but more than that, it smelt... evil. The stench, for that is what it can only be described as, completely juxtaposed the warmth of the house and left you feeling confused and full of dread.

Mr. Bowers seemed completely oblivious to the smell. Either that, or he was used to it. He continued to sit in his armchair half watching the news.

"...this is the fourth disappearance in the same number of weeks. It is unclear whether these disappearances have any connection to one another, but..."

Mr. Bowers grunted.

He picked a toothpick up from the side table, and began to negotiate out a piece of meat from between his two decaying front teeth. After its successful removal, he slid his tongue over his teeth with smug satisfied grin on his face. That curious glint to his eyes rose to the surface for a brief second. That kind veneer seemed to recede further and further away the more you observed him.

Seemingly fed up with watching television, he turned it off with his remote. He eased himself up from his chair, as slowly as he had descended, and shuffled his way toward his small kitchen. A muffled sound could be heard from towards the back of the bungalow. Mr. Bowers shouted an insult toward the source of the noise.
He walked toward the oven and turned it on. Setting a baking tray on the counter next to it, he turned his attention to the fridge. Opening it, he searched for what he could consume. His eyes greedily scanned the cold shelves. Finding something that seemed to take his fancy, he removed what looked like a piece of meat resting on a large plate. A small layer of blood covered the bottom of the plate, the meat obviously very fresh.
As he delicately picked up his dinner, he placed it on the baking tray and admired the beauty of the meat. The limb looked tender. It looked juicy.

Mr. Bowers licked his lips excitedly and his eyes gleamed once again. His forehead began to moisten with perspiration. Before he put his meal into the oven to cook, he remembered to take care of one final preparation. He removed the sock from the foot.
"We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be." - Kurt Vonnegut

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Ben Moore
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Post by Ben Moore » 09 Sep 2019, 13:18

Nice! In a short space of time you make the transition from harmless old man to pure evil 😁 I liked that some mystery was still maintained as well!
'All bad poetry springs from genuine feeling' - Oscar Wilde
'Am reading more Oscar Wilde. What a tiresome, affected sod' - Noël Coward

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Ashley Louise
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Post by Ashley Louise » 10 Sep 2019, 08:45

Ben Moore wrote:
09 Sep 2019, 13:18
Nice! In a short space of time you make the transition from harmless old man to pure evil 😁 I liked that some mystery was still maintained as well!
Thank you so much for taking the time to read my little story & giving me your input! I'm really glad you enjoyed it! Maybe I will get brave enough to post other short stories 😂
"We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be." - Kurt Vonnegut

LyorBoone
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Post by LyorBoone » 16 Sep 2019, 15:20

The innocent beginning makes the turn far more sinister. After all, the most evil people are those that hide their misdeeds behind a an act to show innocence.
“History doesn’t repeat itself, but it does rhyme” - Mark Twain. Dare we say the same thing about every story that gets told in the world?

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Ashley Louise
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Post by Ashley Louise » Yesterday, 12:38

LyorBoone wrote:
16 Sep 2019, 15:20
The innocent beginning makes the turn far more sinister. After all, the most evil people are those that hide their misdeeds behind a an act to show innocence.
This is very true! Thank you so much for reading!
"We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be." - Kurt Vonnegut

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