"The Witch On Smith Avenue"

"The Witch On Smith Avenue"

By Richard Edwards

1

 

            Within the state of Tennessee lives a small town by the name of Betsy. On the outer edge of Betsy, Tennessee lives a small street; the street of Smith Avenue.

 

            “I wish you would die!” a little named Blenda said to her older brother Jon. Blenda was three feet tall and seven years old. The little girl had long blonde hair and blue eyes much like his mother Margret. Jon was ten years old and about four feet tall. Jon has short brown hair cut in the style of a buzz cut and has brown eyes much like his father George.

            “Now Blenda, you should never ever say anything like that to anyone! You hear me?” Margret, their mother said to her young daughter. Margret, (or Maggie, as her husband George would call her), was forty three years old and five feet tall. She had several wrinkles on her face and had blonde hair with the exception of a few gray hairs.

            “But mommy he stole my Barbie Doll and hides it.” Blenda argued in complaint. Jon rolled his eyes and looked annoyed at her.

            “You are too big to be playing with those stupid little baby toys!” Jon said in a smart a*s tone to his kid sister.

            “Shut up!” The little girl yelled at her smart mouth brother. Jon with anger on his face replied.

            “No you shut up!” They both then smeared at each other. Margret was washing dishes at the time of them arguing. She slammed the plain glass plate down on the floor with frustration. She then turned to the kids and glared at them angrily.

            “You both go straight to your rooms to your room right now! You are growled the remainder of the night!” She yelled not being afraid to show her frustration towards them. They looked down at the floor knowing they were in trouble and walked upstairs to their room. She was to the point of her frustration that her nerves were shot. She knelt down to pick up the broken pieces of the glass plate. She then herd the motor of her husband's red Mustang Ford driving up the driveway towards their garage.

           

            He got out of the car and grabbed his brief case and slammed the car door. He then proceeded to walk towards the brick house in which he and his family lived. George was forty five years old and six feet and five inches tall. He had dark brown hair and dark brown eyes. He was a constable for the local Betsy County Sheriff's Department.

            “Hey babe, I'm home” he said walking in to approach his loving wife. “What is for dinner honey?” he asked. Margret sighed and stood up wither hands on her hips. She sighed again.

            “Hey honey, I'm not sure quite yet.” She said as she sighed once more. He looked at her knowing she was in a mood.

            “What is wrong honey?” George asked Margret. He leaned in to hold her. They hugged then she pushed him away.

            “I saw that crazy old woman spying out her window at us again.” she replied. George grinned and grabbed his wife once more.

            “AWWW honey, never mind her. If she is a crazy as you say she is then we don't have anything to worry about. If she is as mentally insane as you think then she probably doesn’t know what she is even doing.” he ensured her. She pushed him away again and looked up at him.

            “Just shut up George!” she expressed with frustration. “I know she was watching me George, she does it all the time.” she then added and continued to wash the dishes. George the rubbed her shoulders.

            “Now calm...” George started prior to being interrupted by Margret.

            “No! You are the constable! Go make her stop or arrest her or something!” she interrupted. George then smiled and chuckled.

            “I'll go talk to her alright.” he said. He turned around out of the house and onto the Smith Avenue. He walked down to the foot of the hill he lived on. He turned to the house of the crazy old woman. The house looked as if it should be abandonment. It was hidden behind several trees and it was dark and damp with fungus like mushrooms growing on the front porch.

 

            He walked through the front gate to the front porch of the house. He then knocked on the door.

            “Hello?” he yelled still pounding on the door. “Hello, Mrs. Patterson? It is Constable Louis!” he yelled awaiting an answer. The old rotting wooden door squeaked open. Then the storm door squeaked open revealing a short old woman.

            “Hello George.” she said with a shaky old styled voice. Mrs. Patterson was around three hundred eighty pounds and three feet and seven inches tall. She had a chubby wrinkly face. She had some strange and unusual bump on her nose. She had white hair and a very pale body. No one knew her that well. The residents in Betsy did not even know her age.

            “Oh I am so sorry, I have been cooking something up.” she said. She smiled like she was a sweat old woman trying to hold back the evil within her.

            “I would like to ask you some questions” he said to her trying to keep this strictly business.

            “Oh!?” she asked confused.

            “Yes, uh, why were you watching my wife while she drove up the Honda Civic?” he asked her. She looked up at him.

            “Because I have to.” she replied. He sighed.

            “Why?” He asked her.

            “Because if I don't who will?” she asked him. He looked at her like she was crazy.

            “Um, the neighbor hood watches system?” he suggested an answer to her. She did not appreciate the look she received from him.

            “The neighbor hood watch system is nothing but a joke, it is laughable.” she replied to him now in a smart a*s tone. George put on a fake smile.

            “Can you just not look any more so we can have our privacy?” he asked her almost knowing she would say no.

            “No can do!” she said to him. George then lost his temper.

            “You b***h!” he yelled to her and the he puncher in the jaw breaking several teeth as he saw them fly out of her mouth. She grabbed her mouth and wiped the blood on her shirt.

            “You will pay for that, I swear to Satin himself that you will pay for that!” she yelled to him as she got up and slammed the door behind her. George shocked then walked back up the street and back into his house.

2

 

            He entered his house and walked into the kitchen. Margret looked over at him and spotted his blood red knuckles. She put her hand over her mouth and gasped. George grabbed his hand and walked over to the refrigerator.

            “Oh honey, what happened?” Margret shockingly asked her husband. She knew his knuckles were in pain. She opened the cabinet door next to the refrigerator and grabbed a plastic Zip Lock bag. She then opened the freezer door and grabbed several ice cubes and poured them into the plastic Zip Lock bag. She then ripped two sheets of Bounty brand paper towels off of the paper towel roll and rapped them around the ice filled plastic baggie. He grabbed the bag and placed it on his hand.

            “I lost my temper towards that crazy b***h and punched her in the God damn face!” he yelled to his wife. She looked over at him.

            “You really punched her?” she asked him.

            “Yeah.” he mumbled as he hung his head in shame. Margret put her hands on her hips and sighed. She then looked back at her ashamed husband.

            “Is she going to press charges?” Margret asked George. George continued to stare at the floor as he shrugged his shoulders. “Did she provoke you?” she asked him. He looked up at her and stared.

            “No, she just pissed me off!” he said angrily. He sighed again and looked back down at the floor.

            “Did she say anything to you after you hit her?” Margret asked him. He kept staring at the floor.

            “She swore to Satin himself that I would pay. She was probably just blowing hot air out of her a*s!” he said as he continued to look down at the floor and mumble.

 

            “I told you she was a crazy b***h! I should call the God damn police and report this!” said as she was obviously pissed off and frightened. George stood up from the wooden chair he was sitting on and stared at Margret.

            “And tell them what, that I punched and elderly woman in the jaw?” George said in sarcastic humor. Margret poured George a fresh hot cup of coffee in his old 'I LOVE NY' Coffee mug he bought ten years ago in a gift shop in New York City.

           

            Maggie and George sat in the kitchen in total silence for several minutes. As they set in silence an extremely loud clap of thunder vibrated and shook throughout the house. Margret put down her coffee mug that read 'I LOVE MOM' down on the counter and grabbed her rain coat. She then put the light brown rain coat on herself and she grabbed her purse.

            “Honey, I have to go to Willie’s Home Grown Grocery store. There's a really bad thunder storm coming this way!” Margret stated as she grabbed her car keys and kissed her loving husband on the cheek. “Bye honey.” Margret said kissing him again.

            “Bye baby, be careful.” George said to his wife as she walked out the door.

 

            Margret walked out into the garage and unlocked her Honda Civic car door. She got into the Honda and started the engine. She checked her lipstick and hair in the rear view mirror and then buckled her seat belt. She put the car into Reverse and backed out of the garage. She backed out of the driveway and put the car into Drive. She drove down the road and approached the old woman's house. She stopped at the stop sign and then engine died.

            “What the f**k?” Margret said as she turned the key to restart the engine. The car putted as if it was going to start and then died again. She kept trying to start the engine for several more moments and still the engine seemed to be dead. “S**t!” Margret screamed as she unbuckled her seat belt, opened the car door, and got out of the car. She bent over to pop the hood of the car to check the battery. She opened it up to take a look. Margret was not much of a tom-boy. She didn't really know what she was doing. She got out her cell phone to call George to come get her and she turned around. She dropped her phone as the elderly Mrs. Patterson spooked her. She leaned up against the car in fear. Mrs. Patterson stared at Margret in the eyes. Mrs. Patterson's eyes turned pitch black with no white in the outer edges. Margret kept staring into the eyes of the beastly evil woman. She saw something in her eyes that paralyzed her for a couple of moments. She could not get feeling in her legs to walk. The woman raised her right hand with finger nails now three inches long.

            “Gaze into my palm!” Mrs. Patterson commanded to Margret. Margret looked into the palm of the demon's hand and saw a fiery damnation. She continued to gaze into the hand of this bitter old maid. A fiery dragon head came from the hand and opened the fiery mouth.

            “NO! NO! NNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Margret screamed as she dropped her car keys and disappeared into the palm of the old woman's hand. The old woman then walked into her house as if nothing has happened.

 

            Several hours have gone by and no sign of Margret to return home. 'Maybe she got hung up at the grocery store' he tried to convince himself as he tried to call her several times to no response. With no groceries in the cabinet or refrigerator but Ball Park branded hot dog weenies. He grabbed them out of the refrigerator and cut the pouch open. He placed all six weenies in the frying pan and proceeded to gill the hot dogs.

           

            When the hot dogs are finished frying he placed them into hot dog buns and placed three plates on the kitchen table.

 

            Blenda and John walked down the stairs into the kitchen and sat down at the table. They looked around and noticed their mother was not present.

            “Where's momma?” Blenda asked George. George placed his hot dog back on his paper plate and looked over at Blenda.

            “She probably just got caught in the rain at the grocery store.” George insured them also trying to convince him as well. The remainder of the dinner was in total silence. When the kids were finished eating they walked up stairs to put on their pajamas.

            “I'll be up to tuck you in a second.” George told the kids as he began to worry. He stood up from the table and walked upstairs and went into the kid’s bed room.

 

            He turned to the kid’s shark night light and walked over to their bed sides. He knelt down on the floor. George reached out and hugged them both at the same time. He kissed them both on the cheek.

 

            “Good night guys.” George said to the kids. He walked over to the door and placed his hand on the light switch.

            “Good night daddy” John and Blenda said in unison to their father. George smiled and turned the light switch off and walked back down stairs.

 

            He walked into the living room and sat down into his Lazy Boy Recliner and drifted off to sleep.

3

 

            The Toshiba flat screen turned on its own waking up George (who drifted off to sleep the night prior waiting for his wife to come home.) George opened his blurry eyes that were momentarily blinded by the sunshine bleeding through blinds. As he got his vision back he wondered if his wife came home from the grocery store after the storm had lifted. George arose from his Lazy Boy reclining chair and stretched out his back, legs and arms. He walked over to the stairwell and stood at the foot of the steps for one moment. He paused to see if he could hear any activity going on the upper floor. He heard complete and total silence. He proceeded to walk up the stairs to the second floor of the house. When he reached the top floor he started to walk down the hallway to their bedroom. George felt as if he had an enormous lump lodged in his throat. It was as if he knew something was wrong. He almost knew something has happened to her. He dreaded approaching the bed room. He was mentally praying to God that he was wrong.

            He reached his head around the doorway and glued his eyes upon the bed. The bed was made and empty. George closed his eyes and now officially knew there was something was wrong. His back slid down the wall of their bed room exposing his bare buttocks. He placed his hands over his face and started to think of what to do next.

            'How am I going to tell the kids? Should I call the boys down at the station?' he pondered to himself.

            “Mommy, Daddy?” Blenda said in a questioning tone running into her parent’s bed room with Mr. Wiggles, her stuffed bear toy. “Daddy what is for breakfast?” Blenda asked her father. Jon walked into the room rubbing his blurry eyes to regain his vision.

            “Where is Momma?” Jon asked his father in concern and with confusion. George uncovered his face and looked at the children.

            “I don't know right now.” George told the kids. “She never came home from the store last night.” George continued to think of what he should do and what he should tell the kids to keep them from getting frightened. George let out a big sigh as Blenda started to weep.

            “Let me fix us breakfast and we will figure this whole thing out okay?” George asked to re ensure his kids. “What do you guys want to eat?” George asked them to change the subject. Blenda wiped the tears from her eyes and face and looked up at George.

            “Biscuits and gravy with scrambled eggs and sausage.” Blenda told her father in a whining and complaining tone in her voice. John nodded his head in agreement while faking a half smile and pretending everything was alright. George also somehow managed to fake a half smile and also nodded his head in agreement.

            George stood up from the floor and walked into the hallway to the stairwell. He walked down the stairs and into the kitchen to begin to prepare the breakfast. He turned the oven on per-heat and walked over to the freezer and grabbed a pack of frozen biscuits.

            RING! RING! RING! The phone rang. George put down the biscuits and walked into the living room and grabbed the telephone. He picked up the phone and pushed the button that read 'TALK' and answered the phone.

            “Hello? What is it?” George asked in a frustrating tone.

            “Hello George!” the jittery old woman voice of Mrs. Patterson spoke on the other end of the line. George's face turned blood red with anger and frustration.

            “You? I don't have time to deal with you right now; I have to fix the kids breakfast.” George screamed at the old woman. The witch chuckled.

            “Are you finding life without your beloved wife harder than you thought it would be?” Mrs. Patterson asked George as if dangling a clue in front of his face. George tuned paper white and started to shiver.

            “Wait a minute.” George paused for a moment to collect his thoughts. “Do you have anything to do with the disappearance of Margret do you?” George asked her with anger. The little old woman chuckled once more and replied.

            “I don't know. Maybe I do, maybe I don't. What do you think?” The little old woman said teasing George. George clinched his fists and turned blood red once more.

            “I swear to God if you harm a hair on her head...” George said prior to being interrupted by the witch.

            “Oh you silly humans. How much time must I repeat myself to idiotic mortals, God's not here tonight.” She said as an extremely loud clap of thunder shook the foundation of the house. George shook in fear then turned blood red again.

            “B***h, you better tell me where she is, or I will kill your God damn a*s! Do you hear me you b***h!?”  The monster laughed again.

            “My dear boy, I'm eternal, I am your worst nightmare come true!” She said with the voice of the devil himself. “Now this is your first warning! I advise you to not force me to warn you again.” The old witch said as she hung up the phone.

 

4

 

            George threw the phone down on the love seat and ran through the kitchen and up the stairs. The ran down the hallway and into his and Margret's bed room. He walked into the jointed bathroom within the bed room and opened the closet revealing a locked gray gun locker. He reached into his blue jean pockets and pulled out a key chain with several hanging upon it. He grabbed the key in which to open the gun locker. The pushed the key into the two key slots and unlocked the gun locker. He reached into the locker and grabbed out a twelve Gage shot gun along with forty shells that went along with it.

            Ding Dong! The door bell rung as Sheriff Roberts pushed the door bell button. Blenda walked to answer the door. Saying that Sheriff Roberts was a veteran in the police force would be an understatement. He was sixty nine years old and five feet tall. He had white and silver hair and his faced was covered with wrinkles.

            “Hey there Blenda, is your daddy home?” Sheriff Roberts asked the young girl. Blenda nodded her head and motioned towards the stairwell.

            “Thanks sweet heart!” Sheriff Roberts said to the young girl as he stepped into the home of George. George started down the stairs when he placed his eyes on the sheriff and sighed with relief. “What are you doing with that gun George?” Sheriff asked with concern for his fellow police officer. George dropped the shot gun and leaned it up against the wall with the barrel pointing towards the ceiling.

            “Oh Sheriff Roberts, boy am I glad to see you!” George said once again with a sigh of relief. George's skin tone was now as white as a blank piece of paper. Sheriff Roberts continued to stare at George for several more moments with concern.

            “What is wrong with you George? It looks as if you have seen a ghost.” Sheriff Roberts asked George with concern. He walked over to the step George was now sitting on and placed his hand on George's shoulder. “Now just calm down and tell me what happened son!” Sheriff Roberts talked to the young officer in a comforting tone of voice. George rubbed his face with his hands for a moment and placed them on his legs.

            “Okay.” George started. “You know the crazy lady down the street?” George asked the sheriff awaiting an answer.

            “Ms. Patterson? Of course!” Sheriff Roberts stated still with concern and confusion. “What about her?” He added. George looked up at the old man.

            “I have suspicions that she may have kidnapped my wife.” George said to the sheriff. Sheriff Roberts stared at George with disbelief.

            “Ms. Patterson? Are you sure?” Roberts asked George. George sighed and looked back up at him. “Maybe you just had a bad dream.” Roberts tried to ensure George.

            “Jesus Christ! I am f*****g telling you, that b***h down the street kidnapped my God damn wife!” George yelled to the sheriff. George put his hands back over his face and started to sob. Sheriff Roberts then sat beside him on the third step of the stairwell and put his arm around him.

            “It will be okay.” Sheriff Roberts tried to re-insure his fine young deputy. “Do you have any proof?” Roberts asked George. George took his hand away from his face and pointed towards the house phone setting on the side table next to the recliner in the living room.

            “She called me just before you came in.” George claimed to the sheriff.

            “What did she say?” Sheriff Roberts asked George with concern and shock.

            “She basically told me I would never see my wife again and if I did not keep my distance she will make me pay again.” George informed the sheriff.

            “Okay, I will go down there and check it out. You just stay here and relax; I'll be back in five to ten minutes.” Sheriff Roberts told George. Sheriff Roberts stood up from the steps and walked over to the front door. He opened the front door and looked back at George. He knocked his head and walked out onto the porch. He reached into his shirt pocket and grabbed out a pack of Marlborough cigarettes. He grabbed one out of the pack and placed it into his mouth. He reached into his jeans pocket, pulled out a cigarette lighter, and lit the cigarette. He walked off of George's front porch and proceeded to walk down the road to the beast’s house.

            He reached the bottom of the hill and stared at the old woman's house for several moments. The clouds began to cover up the once blue sky now making it a dark gray sky. A slight breeze began to blow harder the closer he got to the house. He reached the front porch and knocked on the front door of the witch.

            “Hello? Ms. Patterson?” George asked awaiting a response. The little old woman opened the old wooden door as it squeaked.

            “Oh hello Sheriff Roberts!” Ms. Patterson said in her not so typical sweet old lady voice. Roberts rolled his eyes knowing that she was full of s**t and sighed. Ms. Patterson glared at him with an unappreciated look upon her wrinkly sagging face.

            “Listen I have a warrant to search you house, so if you can just step aside so I can begin to search.” Sheriff Roberts said to her. She glared at his with disgust.

            “Be my guest!” Ms. Patterson told him in an angry way. She moved aside allowing him to enter her home. He headed straight for the basement door. He grabbed the door knob and forced the door open.

            “What is that Smell?” He started as an ax the buried into the spine of the old man. Sheriff Roberts dropped to his knees and fail down the stairs dead. The old witch pulled the ax from the back of the old man.

            “I'll get you for calling the God damn police.” Ms. Paterson whispered to herself. She grabbed her home telephone and placed it up against her ear. She then called Georges and paused waiting for an answer.

            “Hello? Sheriff? Did you teach that b***h a lesson?” George asked thinking that Sheriff Roberts was on the other side of the line. The old witch chuckled in an evil tone. “You!” George said with spite.

            “Yes George it is me!’The old b***h' I believe is what you called me.” Ms. Patterson said back to him with spite.

            “Look what do you want from me?” George asked her nervously. He stood up from the stair case and walked around in circles.

            “I already have what I want George! By the way there are a couple of people here who I think would like to speak with you!” The old witch said as she pushed the speaker phone button.

            “Daddy? Daddy help us!” Blenda and Jon screamed before the witch turned off the speaker phone.

            “Blenda? Jon? You b***h if you harm one hair on their head...” George said prior to being interrupted by the beast.

            “Too Late!” The witch yelled as the two screaming children panicked voices filled up the back ground.

            “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! You God damn mother f*****g b***h!!!” George screams with pain and dread. The witch placed a pair of bloody scissors on the kitchen table.

            “Now you listen and you listen well you b*****d. This is you final warning!” The witch said. The line went dead and George fell to his knees.

            “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!” he yelled out again as he fell to the floor and began to sob.

       

5

 

            George stood up from the floor and grabbed his cell phone. He opened it up and called the number of Marty Smith, an old friend of his who spent years on the force with him. Marty was now an FBI agent. He was forty years old and a fairly muscular man. He had long blonde hair and was a former NAVY Boxing Champion of the World. He had a blonde beard and was about six feet and four inches tall.

            “Hello?” Marty said as he answered the phone. Marty happened to be in town that day visiting his mother who was in the local Betsy General Nursing Home for the Retired Elders. He heard sobbing on the other end of the line. “Hello? Who the hell is this?” He asked thinking it was a prank call.

            “It...It is me, George.” the wimpy tone of George said through the phone. Marty's face drew pale as he know by the tone in George's voice something was wrong.

            “What is wrong George?” Marty asked in concern. George wiped the tears from his eyes.

            “Do you remember that b***h old woman who lives down the street from me?” George asked him.

            “Of course, Ms. Patterson! Is that crazy b***h still living?” he asked his friend.

            “Yes, she is still living and crazier than ever!” George said.

            “What has that old b***h done now?” he asked as he knew she was crazy enough to do something drastic.

            “She has kidnapped my wife and my kids. For all I know they could be dead by now!” George says with fear.

            “Do you need me to call in the force?” He asked George. George smiled knowing he would finally get help.

            “Yes and bring back up! She murdered Sheriff Roberts too!” George screamed to his friend.

            “Not Roberts!” He said. “Are you sure?”  He added.

            “One hundred percent sure!” George ensured him. Marty placed his hands over his face and then pulled them away.

            “Give me five minutes.” Marty told George.

            “Ten four!” George replied smiling.

 

            Marty pulled into George's driveway. George looked out the curtain and saw his friend. Marty motioned for George to come and get into his car. George grabbed his assault rifle and storms out the door. He walked over to Marty's red convertible and stepped in.

            “Where are the rest of the guys?” George asked Marty. Marty Grinned and put the car in reverse.

            “They are in the truck at the bottom of the hill waiting for us.” Marty replied. They backed out of the driveway and drove down to the bottom of the hill to park alongside the big brown army truck with the rest of the FBI agents within it. Marty and George stepped out of the stepped out of the convertible with weapons in hand. The remaining FBI Agents stormed out of the big brown truck surrounding the house. George and Marty ran up onto the porch leaning up against the rotting wall beside the door.

            “Ms. Patterson! Come out with your hands up! We have your house surrounded!” Marty yelled. No answer. Marty motioned the FBI gentlemen with the battery ram. They busted the door down and the FBI agents filled up the house. The lights were off and there was no sign of Ms. Patterson on the first floor. They started to walk up her stairwell. They heard something snap. The star case fell through the basement. George lifted his head and saw the old woman with glowing red eyes surrounding a black pot placing the legs of his loved ones into the pot containing boiling water. George stood up and ran towards the old woman tackling her. Her arm reached up and her index finger rammed through his right eye.

            “AGGGGHHHH” George screamed. He took his fist and rammed it through the chest of the old woman ripping out her heart and clenching it in his hand. The old woman was dead.

            “Take that you b***h!!! This is for my daughter. This is for my son! And this one is for my wife!” George continued to punch the old woman shattering the face of the witch.

            “George! George! George! She's dead!” Marty yelled screaming at the blood covered George.

            “DING DONG THE B***H IS DEAD!!!” George said happily and smiling.

Copyright 2013 by Richard Edwards

Courtesy of TRUE TERROR PUBLICATIONS

A division of TTP Entertainment

Author's Note

This is my first contribution to this site! I hope you enjoy it!

Reviews

[Dayran]

A baker who gets invited to a tea party is unlikely to feel a rush for the pastries there. He is after all the master of the bread. Thereafter he's going to be wondering why he came ... and may soon find out that it was to end his career as a baker.

A long twisting turn of events ... that is far closer to our daily life than many realize. Nice one. Merry Christmas.

[Richard Edwards]

Thanks Dayran!

[Riding the Rainbow]

Nice! Really nice story.
Well done.

[Angel]

But you never told us who...or what...the old lady actually is. And you didn't tell us what happened to the kids, or how George finally managed to defeat her.
There should be more to this story...

[Leslie Philibert]

My problem is that I have too little time to read prose, but I scanned this and founf this to be well
written, the last line has a connection of the Munchkins, The W of Oz and Maggie, so I liked that..

[Richard Edwards]

Thank you Leslie!

[Jon of York]

I loved the read. Kept you glued to the screen to the end.

[Richard Edwards]

Thanks Jon!

[Bob Sherunkle]

Richard,damn fine write.Kept me glued to the page .Any more?

[Richard Edwards]

Thanks Bob! I'll have some more up soon!

[Bob Sherunkle]

Good man!!

[Lyn Anderson]

Not a fan of the happy ending I see. Nevertheless, keeps one reading till the end. If you want some minor corrections - Satan not Satin, and a couple of points when awkwardly goes from past tense to things like "are finished" - and one minor thing, in the line where it says she is crazy and wouldn't be any threat, it needs to be made into one sentence instead of two repetitive ones. Fabulous story, but with this high quality of writing, you really want it to read perfectly. :)

[Richard Edwards]

Thank you so much for reading KL!