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Adventure of Harry Bangs

Dead of Winter
A Ghost Story

It is a cold wintry day. Sleet, ice has been falling for hours. The woods seem like a giant ice castle to me. Despite the falling limbs and trees around me, I marvel at the beauty. Though thirty something I smile an innocent child’s smile in awe of that around me, even as I face desperation fearing the tragedy this night might bring. I need to find refuge to escape the wet and the cold.

How did I get myself in this situation? I’d like to blame the oil companies, but it was my own fault I forgot to fill up before heading out on the old Carey Dirt Road. I’d forgotten how long and desolate this road where my grandparents once lived is. If I could just remember where their house had been, perhaps there might still be something there.

My hands are so cold and my feet are numb. I can’t find my way back to the road. I start wondering what death is going to be like as I wander around lost. Will my first girlfriend who died in a car crash be waiting on the other side to greet me. I think I would like to see her smile again. And there are things I would like to tell her. I’d tell her how much I miss holding her warmly in my arms. I’d tell her how much I miss always losing to her when we bet on football games. I’d tell her I no longer hate her for being the whoring bitch who broke my heart.

Suddenly I see a house. It is my grandparents house. I can hardly believe the place is still standing. Slipping and sliding I run up to it. I open the front door. I rush in. It doesn’t occur to me that someone might actually be living in the dump.

A woman is down on all fours in front of the fireplace. A man is humping her doggie style for all he is worth. I can’t help but think what a pretty smile she has as I see her large breast keep bouncing up to her chin and then back down. Seeing me, suddenly they stop and I see the horny lust in their expressions turn to fear. They don’t know me, but I recognize them from a picture.

The woman starts screaming, “Please don’t rob us. Please don’t rob us.”

The man starts screaming, “Please don’t rape me.”

“I am sorry. I run out of gas. My grandparents once lived here and I was just looking for shelter from the ice storm.”

The woman says, “Well, sit down and make yourself comfortable,” and I am amazed at how quickly their expressions return from fear to wanton desire.

I sit down on the couch and the man goes back to humping the woman. He says, “You can use my cell phone to call a wrecker if you want. It is in my pants that are still in the bathroom upstairs.”

I go upstairs and into the bathroom. I don’t see any pants in the bathroom. I jerk off. I go back downstairs. The couple is gone. I go and sit next to the fireplace. I look into the fire. I look into the hypnotic fire. Then I hear the woman screaming in the kitchen.

“Oh yeah, fuck me, fuck me, drive it home stud. That’s right. Rub my ass as you pound my pussy. Harder, harder, faster, slower, be gentle, slower, kiss me behind my ear. Massage my neck. Kiss my neck. Run your tongue down my back. Put that tongue in my pussy. Twirl it around. Oh yeah, twirl it. Munch. Munch. Munch harder. Come on. Do better than that. Stick that tongue in. Twirl it.”

I hear the man screaming. “Fuck yeah, yeah, yeah. Suck on my cock. Lick my balls. Squirt that whip cream on. Give me a taste. Yum. Get your finger out of my ass. You know I don’t like that. Tickle my balls. Munch. Come on, munch.”

Suddenly, fully clothed, the man and woman I’d seen fucking earlier come in holding firewood. The man ask, “Did you find the cell phone?”

“No, I didn’t see your pants.”

“Yeah, I sent you on a goose chase while we finished up and got dressed. Figured you would take the hint to give us some privacy.”

“Yeah. I guess. Whatever. So if you two were outside, who is it that I heard in the kitchen fucking.”

“It is the ghosts of some old man and woman, and some young woman who was killed in a car wreck. Those three are always making the most noise getting their freak on.”

“The ghost of my grandparents having sex with my first girlfriend. Like gross.”

The man says, “Like dude, if it is so gross, I don’t think that is a gun in your pocket.”

So I pull my gun out and show them it really is a gun. Apologetically I explain to the woman, “Your husband hired me to kill the two of you. Strange coincidence you happen to choose my grandparent’s old house to be your love shack. Your husband wasn‘t sure of the address but said it was the only house near Big Creek.”

The End

Copyright 2007

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