Vinyl Words

Full Body Chills


Much like the of john's life. The cause and manner of his grandfather's death had been a matter of much. Secrecy in speculation rumours had sprouted and cast their seeds like weeds until all whispers of truth were washed away. In a flood of conjecture the executors of his estate had lied in liquidating assets settling debts and perhaps most importantly buying privacy many of those involved were suspected of taking bribes. Neighbors of the local coroner watched from their bay windows with pursed lips as construction began on his home extension. When the sheriff's daughter rode off on her first day of private school it was accompanied by many raised eyebrows in sidelong glances. Nevertheless secrets remained. As the old man's fortune was picked clean to the bone and left to bleach in the sun. When the dust settled all that remained was a massive unoccupied estate on the woodland edge of cops hill passer bys took note over months as it's forlorn for sale signs slowly faded. When john thought of his grandfather feelings of anger and resentment burned in his brain he had no relationship with him. Nor did he have the opportunity to share in his opulent lifestyle for a man of means. Had done shockingly little to support his family. The extent of their resemblance. Was that john much. Like his grandfather had a desire for wealth and an aversion to people. so far he'd succeeded only in the latter. John lived alone in a small dark apartment. Existing in limbo on the verge of addiction. Life had been unkind to him as he had been to others. He was not unaware of his grandfather's death nor was he sorry to hear of his passing. He had called lawyers left and finally got in touch with a woman who was able to verify that he was not about sherry of any assets. The dial tone had echoed in his head as his attention fell. Once more to the final notices piling top his counter it was a new segment on the unsold estate. That set the rusted gears of john's mind in motion as the newscaster delivered. Their lines and the camera panned across the grounds. He envisioned himself looking down from one of those great windows. Be ideal intoxicated. Him energized him making his head spin the next morning. He packed his bags. The hissing of the gas stove was punctuated by the front door. Shutting behind him on the counter a pile of bills slowly burnt. It was not hard to find the house nor was it hard to break inside to john's surprise. The house was functional and still sparsely furnished. It was apparent that items of significant value had been removed but what remained could still be exchanged for more money than he had ever had at one time days of exploration yielded many items of promise. The house itself was massive with long dark hallways and stale air that tasted like old leather. It was at the end of one such hallway that john came upon the record room. The room was small lit. Only by the sun. Filtering in through the curtain window facing the woods peeling wallpaper was yellow from years of cigar. Smoke with white rectangle suspended like ghosts on the walls were picture. Frames once hung littered across the hardwood floor were vinyl records coated in a layer of thick dust. That puffed with each footfall catching johns. I was an old record player sitting in the corner. It was made from a rich dark wood with ornate carvings and garnished with me abreast horn flowered up and out from its base and a hand crank set ready at on. Its turntable laid. A record of such dark read that it was merely black the red ridges and grooves of the vinyl gate john the impression of blood-caked hair. He knew that the record player must be worth something as an antique but the price it would fetch would depend on whether it could still play so carefully. He moved the needle to the edge of the record and gave the crank. A few turns released a disembodied treat that made him lynch as the turntable twisted to life before falling into static. There was a pause then from the static. Came a woman's frantic whisker. His stomach sang in his breath caught in his throat as the desperate his of a voice crackled through the roof finger finger in the a finger in the attic. The whispering repeatedly increasing urgency before coming to you sudden every hair on his arm raised. John tossed the record aside and replaced it with another. He tested the turntable with a few cranks in a big band. Burst forth with rich body. Tomes letting out a nervous sigh of relief. John silence the record and continued his search elsewhere. Eventually that search would bring him to the attic. The attic could be accessed by a pull down staircase lodged in the ceiling. As john's head crested the floor of the pitch dark cavernous room. He felt vulnerable at the whim of the unknown panning. A flashlight across the void comforted him. The light on bare walls and baron floor. It was after sundown and john had every intention of calling in a night as he descended the staircase with disappointment. Then as if someone had struck the ceiling with a hammer bang shocked him into falling down the remaining steps panicked and furious. John picked himself up off. The floor and slowly ascended once more in eerie stillness fell as he pulled himself up and over into the room again his flashlight panned across the attic. He was sure was alone. But in the beam of his headlight he saw it a small sparkle of light in the dark cautiously. He moved forward and they're on the floor. Lee a massive diamond ring with his light. Aim down upon it. The gem splashed light across the room like shattered glass in the elation of the discovery. It took him a moment more to register that the ring was worn on a hill severed finger even as chills trickled down his body. John stood transfixed frozen in thought. How has it gotten here. How long had it sat there. Who did it belong to before his nerves. Get the better of him. He reached down and carefully picked up the finger using the sleeve of his shirt. Even through the fabric. The finger felt soft disgusted. He slipped the ring from the finger and into his pocket after a weary pause he decided to leave the finger where he found it dropping it to the ground hurrying back down to the floor below. John returned to the record room and immediately started searching the floor for the red

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