Tell A Spooky Story!

[🪦 antisocial1 ●]

The next morning, there was a knock at the glass door.. It was <span style=\'font-size:14pt;line-height:100%\'>John Senior\'s</span> helper, the local retard, Sam. He helped John with little odds and ends in exchange for a little bit of pay and all the meat he could take home.
"John, awe yuu dare?"
-- No response --
He unlocked the door and came in, helping himself to looking around.
"I wonduh why his cwothes awe aww ovuh de fwoor.. ?"
Scratching his head and trying his best to make sense of the situation, Sam decided he was going to gather up all the sliced meat he found on the table. He wondered why it was so bloody, as the meat was for the most part drained of blood normally. Ah well, it didn\'t matter to him. If John is taking off the day, why not take some of the what looked like, left overs? He got all the meat together, placed it on the usual styrofoam tray, wrapped it in celophane and set it to the side. He then cleaned up all the bone fragments and slivers and cleaned the top of the counter and floor. He knew John would appreciate it when he came back.
It was strange that John didn\'t show up that day, or the next day, or the day after that, but one thing was for sure: Sam and his family had some great hamburgers that night.

[post=\"115424\"]<{POST_SNAPBACK}>[/post]

lmfao. Much better! I just couldn\'t help but say anything...lol. Shall we continue the story?

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John woke up in his kitchen, the first light of dawn filtering in through the curtains in the window. His body was so stiff and sore he had quite a bit of difficulty getting up. He reached a hand up and gripped onto the edge of the tile counter. Very slowly, and agonizingly, John pulled himself up. At least with the daylight, came more comfort. He looked down at his leg, hoping that he had dreamed last night\'s occurrences, but there was the blood and bone, just as he remembered it looking last night, though more swollen. He looked around him, wondering what to do with his leg. He opened a drawer and pulled out some clean dishwashing cloths, and made his way slowly to the back porch, where he knew there were some smaller pieces of plywood he could make a make-shift splint with. He thought of calling the hospital, or calling a friend for a ride, but he feared they would think it was him that had killed his wife - just out of sheer paranoia. He hobbled to the phone and picked it up.
\'At least there is a dial tone...\' he thought to himself.
He dialed his fathers phone number. There was no answer at home, which his father ran his butcher shop out of on the first floor.
"Damn!"
He slammed the phone down with frustration, not knowing what to do. He didn\'t want to go back to any of the bedrooms, knowing for sure that his wife\'s dead body would be there in his bed and that his children would be gone, as they had been last night.
John had to do something. He grabbed his car keys off the small table near the door and made his way outside to the car. He had to go somewhere. Anywhere but here.