Ghosts Next Door

Ghosts Next Door
by Lopaka Kapanui

Sep 19, 2017

100 Ghost Stories Counting Down To Halloween 2017! #43

ORIAS



“Mother fucking piece of shit dick breath bastard!” She caught me off guard, I wasn’t prepared, she punched me in the sternum and dropped me like a ton of bricks. All I could do was lay there and cover up until I got my breath back. Good thing I was curled up tight in a fetal position because she soccer kicked me clear across the room and sent me crashing into the opposite wall with a sickening thud. She’s a good one hundred and twenty pounds but she’s beating my ass like a prizefighter, right now I have nothing left. If I don’t do something, she’ll kill me, that’s for sure.



….……..

The contract was a drug dealer named Rodney Orias, he sucked at his job and it came as no surprise that someone wanted him dead. He was a loudmouth and the powers that be felt that he attracted too much attention with a new car, big house, flashy things, flashy people, and loud parties. People who took out the contract didn’t know that Rodney was a big fan of those Colombian drug dealer movies where the dealers indulged in dark Voodoo that gave them an edge over their enemies. As a result, Rodney began to conduct clandestine ceremonies where he secretly worshiped the devil. Outside of his home, he stationed bodyguards in his garage, in the patio, and in the backyard. Inside stood only one guardian who was very unassuming and was the last person anyone would think was a formidable threat to someone who tried to kill Rodney.

 It was his thirteen-year-old daughter.

She sat in the far corner of the living room in dickey shorts and a blue polo shirt, sporting a rice bowl haircut. Rodney was on his knees in front of a huge glass table that was framed on the outside by an ornately carved white frame. There was a brass bowl in front of him with incense smoke pouring out of it, it was a pungent aroma that was very unpleasant. His hands were covered in blood and as he began to draw symbols on his shoulders and arms. It was only then that he noticed I was standing there with my gun pointing straight at him. There was no reaction from him, his gaze showed that he was taking in my presence for a second and then he said, “Charmaine.”

That petite little thirteen-year-old sitting in the corner suddenly lit up and came to life, she charged me like a freight train and I holstered my weapon in order to grab her and toss her aside but not too hard. Instead, she knocked me flat on my back. Before I had a chance to recover, she grabbed me by my lapel and yanked me back on my feet and let me have a straight punch in the sternum. “Mother fucking piece of shit dick breath bastard!” It was only then that I got a good look at her face, it was twisted and wrinkled like she was an old hag. Her pupils were bloodshot red with a white iris and a yellow cornea, her teeth were black and slimy and her breath smelled of hell itself. The voice that came from within her little frame was too deep and too harsh to be her own. She was fucking possessed and her own father used her as his personal guard dog. Yeah, this piece of shit deserved more than death, he deserved to suffer first until he begged to die.

….………

She caught me off guard, I wasn’t prepared, she punched me in the sternum and dropped me like a ton of bricks. All I could do was lay there and cover up until I got my breath back. Good thing I was curled up tight in a fetal position because she soccer kicked me clear across the room and sent me crashing into the opposite wall with a sickening thud. She’s a good one hundred and twenty pounds but she’s beating my ass like a prizefighter, right now I have nothing left. If I don’t do something now, she’ll kill me, that’s for sure. On her way over to where I now lay, she’s picked up the massive sized glass table over her head with no regard to her father’s ceremony. He’s shocked when he sees this but I can’t worry about that, she’s getting closer which tells me she’s not going to throw the table at me, she’s going to stand right in front of me and pulverize my head with it. I have no choice, I have to do it, I have to or I’m going to die. I remove my 9mm from the holster and I fire off two shots, one in the forehead and the other through the eye, just for good measure. Both bullets are going through two different parts of the brain and they will hit their mark exactly on the spot.

The weight of the table crumbles in her grasp and falls just in front of her while she hits the floor at the same time. It hurts to get up, everything is on fire and I throw up just a little blood once I’m on my feet. “I’m sorry little one,” shit it hurts just to get the words out. “I’m sorry.”

….……..

The lifeless forms of Rodney’s bodyguards litter the perimeter of his home, that’s what happens when you hire people who’ve never fired a gun before. Wannabe gangsters who think what they see in the movies and on rap videos is the real thing; sitting ducks is what they were. I felt sorry for little Charmaine Orias, seeing her sitting there crying over the body of her dead father gave me the feels for just a second, but only a second. That jack off conducted those satanic rituals three times a day in order to make sure that his daughter stayed possessed. I can see how it could cause maddening fear in anyone who went to see him or had been brought before him for skimming off the top or stealing product. Kill the source, the problem goes away; put two bullets through Rodney’s head and demon be gone.



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