It Happens At Night 12: Shovels at the ready!

Freddy was invited around the Kings place where drinks had been drawn up, and there was a good feeling in the air.  There appeared to something of a party going on and the Kings had invited guests over including a certain Mr Wuan - who Freddy had not seen in a while.  In fact Freddy had quite forgotten that Mr Wuan ever existed!  

  Wuan had brought over a couple of bottles of wine and was showing them off to everybody who cared.  'I enjoy collecting these,' he said.  He was showing the wine bottles of one after the other.  And when he was done doing that he got everyone onto the topic of whiskey.

  'Now this is a subject I am deeply interested in,' spoke up Frank.  'I love whiskey - drinking it that is!  But go on, Mr Wuan.  I am finding this topic very fascinating!  You know so much about spirits and it is just wonderful to listen to!'

  'Thank you Mr King,' Wuan replied pleasantly.  'Now let us talk about whiskey.  You have your Irish whiskeys and your Scotch and the Bourbon of course, but for me you cannot beat a good little bottle of cockney!'

  'Ah yes!' Mr King returned with a sparkle in his eye.  'We all like a bit of Pony and Trap in this family!'

  'A fine choice of drink,' said Wuan.  'Do you know what makes cockney spirits so special?  They use corks in their bottles.  It is the only corked whiskey in the world!'

  'That doesn't make sense?' said Frank.  'I thought corks spoilt spirits, made the drink taste of cardboard?'

  'A legend I am going to prove wrong today,' Wuan replied.  Wuan uncorked his bottle of cockney and poured his friends a little of it.  'Taste the goodness of that!'

  'My gosh!  That truly is a Pony and Trap!' said Frank with amazement.  'Maybe the best one I have ever had!'

  'I am glad you enjoyed it.  Now let me show you something very special!  Take a look at this beauty!  Maybe the best in my collection!'  That was when Wuan brought out a box.  Opening it showed a bottle within filled to the brim with a pretty looking purple liquid.  What was this?  It was not wine, Wuan assured them.  This drink was something far better than that!

  The Kings knew what the drink was!  Why this was here business!  When Frank saw that bottle for the first time he shot up in surprise and beside him his fat little brother Vincent almost fell out of his wheelchair!  

  'Purple G-Juice!' Frank exclaimed.  'But there is said to have only ever been three of these ever made?'

  'And I have one of them!' Wuan replied in a jolly voice.  'And I want you to have it, Mr King!  It is a gift to honour our friendship!'

  'Why this is a very fine gift,' said Frank shaking his head with amazement.  'You and I are going to be good friends, Mr Wuan.  I might be interested in putting some business your way someday?'

  'I would be delighted to do business with the Kings,' said Wuan.

  Frank took the purple bottle out of the box and placed it on one of his mantelpieces.  'I shall treasure this,' he said.

  'So what is so special about the purple G-Juice?' said Freddy.  He was honestly interested to know more about it.

  'You deserve a good hard punch in the face saying something so stupid!' said Frank angrily.  The great man did not appreciate Freddy's ignorance!

  Freddy backed down.

  'Okay.  I am sorry...I was only interested.  This business is new to me that's all,' said Freddy in a weak and wobbly voice.

  'It is said that the purple stuff gives you the best high,' Vincent explained.  'Those who drink from the purple juice are said to receive visions at night, and awake the next day reborn with genius capabilities.  I knew a homeless illiterate man who drank some of the purple stuff once.  He woke up the next day a gifted philosopher and programming mastermind.  There is a rumour going about that he helped develop the iPhone, changing the world forever.'

  'Good lord!' Freddy exclaimed.

  It was unbelievable!

  'They stopped distilling the stuff in the early two thousands when scientists finally realised its potency,' Frank took over the story.  'They figured out together that a world full of geniuses might be a dangerous place, they might end up building a bomb or something and so the purple drink was banned globally and universally.'

  'Why universally?'

  'It was a safety measure to ensure nobody tried distilling the drink on the moon.

  'The moon?' and Freddy burst into laughter on hearing this because he thought Frank was only joking.

  It turned out that Frank was not joking...

  'Don't laugh about things like that or I really will have to slap you down!' bellowed Frank.  As he threatened Freddy he started clicking his knuckles.  Frank had a bit of a bad temper about him, and Freddy was going to have to choose his words carefully when in the presence of the great man.

  As Frank and his brother Vincent started necking some more whiskey, Wuan took Freddy into a separate room.  He needed a word with him in private.

  'Have you thought anymore about the offer I made you?' said Wuan.  'Look at you!  You are right in the Kings throne room!  You have their ear and access to their resources...'

  'What do you want me to do?'

  'The kings are always holding fancy parties like this on the weekends, drinking whiskeys and wines.  When the parties are over I want you to collect and bring to me all of the empty bottles and the corks as well!  I have got a plan and I know it will work.  I am going to make a lot of money out of the Kings, but I cannot do it without your help.  I have the tools but I do not have access to the materials.  But you do, Freddy.  So what say you?  Will you  help me.  Will you be my business partner?'

  'I can't betray the kings.  They are taking care of me,' Freddy replied humbly.

  'You won't be betraying them, Freddy!  It is just a couple of empty bottles!  Bring them to me!  Think about it.  I will make it worth your while.  When you have made up your mind you know where to find me, in the shop across the road from where you delightful uncle lives.'

  'I know where to find you,' said Freddy.  'Let me see how things go.  Right now things are good for me.  I don't want to mess everything up.  But who knows?  Maybe life will change, it always does.  And if it does, then you might find me on your door with a couple of empty bottles at the ready.'

  Wuan was delighted!

  'Marvellous!' he said, and with that the little polite man left the building.

  

  After Freddy was good and drunk on whiskey he collapsed onto one of the sofas and fell asleep.

  When he woke up all the guests were gone, and there was nothing but empty glass on the tables and the smell of cigarette smoke and rye dominated the air.

  Freddy had drunken too much and he felt utterly disgusting.

  Hopefully the Kings will let me sleep on their sofa for the rest of the day!

  As Freddy was about to drop back into sleep Frank King himself turned up and asked if Freddy could follow him.  He gave Freddy a full glass of whiskey saying, 'Hair of the dog and all that.  I need you to have your wits about you, Freddy!  We are going to have a very serious talk today you and I.'

  Sounded ominous!

  What was going to happen now?

  Freddy gulped the whiskey down to calm his nerves.  He was frightened something nasty was going to happen.  Something nasty was always happening in his life!  Maybe Frank's psychotic little brother had killed someone?  "Anything could be going on!  The world is just so mad these days!" thought Freddy.

  Frank led Freddy down into one of the rooms hidden in the lower portions of the tower-block.  

  'There is something in this room I want you to see,' said Frank.  'The door is unlocked.  I want you to open it and go in first.'

  'I am afraid Frank!'

  'Good.  Fear keeps a man sharp!'

  'It doesn't keep this man sharp.  Fear just makes me all wobbly and useless!'

  'Listen to me, Freddy.  I know everything about you.  I did not get to where I am today by being an idiot!  I have done my research and I know that you are not an accountant!  You are a grave digger!  Now normally I would hand a creep like you over to the police.  But strangely enough at this very moment I have need of a man with your certain talents!' said Frank.

  'I don't understand you?'

  'Open the door and you will,' said Frank.

  And so Freddy did it.

  He opened the door and went in.

  Inside the room there was a full dead body splayed out over a table!

  (NOTE:  "WHY was Freddy not shocked or even mildly surprised to see a dead body?????  Because he is (or was) a grave digger!")

  After a look or two Freddy started to recognise the corpse...

  It was the young man he had seen the other day - it was Jack!  So the Kings had the man killed him after all!

  Realising that he was in bed with murderers Freddy's conscious left him with no other choice other than to simply collapse into a huddle on the floor!  It took another good sized gulp of whiskey to revive him and get him back up in his feet again!

  'We had to kill him,' said Frank in a casual way.  'We are at war!  The King empire is a war machine.  One loose cog in that machine and the whole thing comes tumbling down.  Jack was that loose cog.  People die on the streets of Fenwick every day it is just the sad way of things in this unhappy town.  The gangs slaughter their enemies.  We have to show strength or they will slaughter us instead.  This idiot dead on the table here let loose our secrets in the middle of a party!  I cannot allow this to go unchecked!  Any of our enemies could have been listening in at the time.  The Irish and the Brazilians have their agents positioned everywhere!  Jack knew too much about our operation.  If the man could have found a way to manage his tongue more correctly he would be standing right now.  But he could not do that, so he had to pay.  It was the only way.  That is how the wars go in Fenwick, Freddy.  So I say this is a nasty town.  We have to fight every day to stay alive.'

  'All right.  So you killed him.  Fine.  But what do you want me to do about it?  Why show me this?  I don't understand your angle?'

  'You dig up bodies, right?  Well now I want you to bury them!  You take care of me, Freddy and I will take care of you,' said Frank.  'Now this is the plan and it is all setup ready to go all you have to do is say yes and keep your head down and stay quiet. Got it?  Good!  Now listen to this.  I am going to set you up with your own funeral service business!  That's right!  You are going to be a professional undertaker.  It has all been taken care of.  I bought a new property the other day.  You are going to setup shop there.  Get yourself a new clean suit.  A clean one not that dirty thing you are wearing now!  There is a flat at the top of the office where you will work.  That is where you are going to live from now on.  Here is a new phone take it.  When it rings you answer it right away no messing about.  Keep the phone on you at all times!  It will be me letting you know I am sending some business your way.  When everything is set and you are ready to take action I want you to find a nice place to bury our boy Jack here.  You need to buckle up, Freddy.  There is a war going on and you are going to be up to your neck in business, if you understand my meaning?  So what do you say?  Are you ready to work with me?'

  Freddy was terrified!  He was stuck in a nasty mess.  The Kings were violent bloody men and he didn't know how he ever ended up being mixed in with them.  Part of Freddy screamed NO inside of his head.  This is wrong.  This is bad.  This is evil!

  But Freddy was weak and he liked the idea of running his own business and making some money for a change.

  So he shook Franks hand.  'I will do it,' he said.

  'You will need help,' said Frank.

  'Of course,' Freddy replied.

  Frank introduced Freddy to his help.

  It was none other than his crafty and wily Uncle Lucien!

  Now how did that devil end up getting involved with the Kings?

  Something deeply disturbing was going on and Freddy felt like he was standing on the tip of a massive iceberg known as bergy strange!

  'You need to explain yourself!' said Freddy angrily to his uncle.

  Frank stepped up between them and told Freddy to calm down.  'I hired Lucien because you already have a business relationship with this man,' said Frank.  'I know you two worked together in the grave digging business and I thought he was the best partner to help you in the work ahead.  You need to work with someone who you know and who you can trust!'

  'I don't know if I trust this man,' said Freddy coldly.

  'Don't be foolish!  He is your uncle,' said Frank.

  'That's what worries me...'

  Freddy was ready to start a good long argument with his uncle, but unfortunately he would not be given the chance.

  Something dramatic happened out of nowhere!

  Vincent came wheeling in from out of nowhere - he looked hot and bothered and had a dark look in his eyes.

  This is what he said:

  'The Brazilians launched an attack this morning!  They burned the Scotch pub down!  McGregor has been killed!'

  When Frank heard this dreadful news you could tell that he was mad and sad, but he did not say anything right away.  He just stood there, clenching his fists.  

  'Something has to be done about this,' said Vincent.  'We can't let them go about killing our boys!  McGregor was a war hero!  He was blood - A King!  Justice demands that we avenge him right here and right now.  I have got a gun.  I will take it with me.  I will ride out and slaughter them all!  I will find Corta Almoço and I will slay him with my own hands.  I will maw him like a dog!  I will run him over with my wheelchair!  Just let me have at him!  Tarnations!  We cannot stand for this - I mean I can't stand literally I am dead from the waste down but you know what I mean?'

  'I know what you mean,' said Frank who was trying to stay calm in the situation.  'And you are right, little brother.  We must avenge McGregor, and we will.  This war used to be about business.  Now it is personal.  Let us go to the office and make plans.'

  'Yes.  I will phone the Italians.  We need all the muscle we can get,' said Vincent.

  'Do it.  Our enemies burn down our pub and so we will burn down their homes.  They will not win this,' said Frank menacingly.  

  Then Frank turned to Freddy.

  He had instructions for the weak and wobbly man.

  'While I am fighting the war I need you to start on the funeral business,' he told him.  'I need you to bury this dead man Jack.  Do it now before he starts to smell.  Be happy, Freddy!  This war is going to be bad for a lot of people, but not for you!  This war is going to make you rich!'

  

(Remember!  All spelling errors and grammatical mistakes are intentional - the author 😆)

Previous part here

There is a prequel to this story.  Check the link below if you would like to read it:

Jim's Subway part 1

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THE LEGEND OF RUDWIN REVIEW

It Happens At Night 11: Road Of Fury

Freddy was in the middle of a nightmare and worst of all he was very much awake and still very much alive...

  I don't won't to die not yet!  I don't want to give uncle Lucien the opportunity to bury me and dig me back up again!  I can hear him gloating now the dusty old spider that he is!

  'I would appreciate it so much if you took the time to tell me exactly where we are going,' said Freddy to the man sitting beside him.  Freddy was beyond terrified at that time as he and his mad companion went speeding down the road.  The only good thing to come from the experience was Freddy's rapid loss of weight through all the sweating he was doing at the time.

  'I am not saying anything about that!  You will see what you need to see very soon!' Vincent replied in a voice that can be described as ominous.  'We are on the mission, Freddy,' the half dead man continued.  'People see me and Frank in the streets and they want to get us.  They think we are easy targets: my brother -  respectable business and family man - and then you have me a man fully dead from the waist down and our enemies look at us and think like this, "let us get those fools!"  Well today we are going to show them the truth of it.  The Kings are NOT a family to be messed about with!'

  'Why would people want to mess about with you and your brother?' said Freddy.

  'Because we are rich!  What a stupid damn thing to ask!  There are loads of reasons why poor people would want to mess with us.  Our business is legit, our wealth is stored in vaults of refined and beloved G-Juice.  The brewery is booming and easy to find.  If a gang wants to target the place all they have to do is break in and steal the goods.  Our enemies have contacts operating underground who they can use to fence their gains.  We have been attacked before...  Back then we let the police deal with it.  Nothing happened.  So now I am dealing with it.  No one steals from us Kings!'

  'Why did they attack McGregor?' 

  'Collateral.  They want to prove they can hurt our family on a personal level.'

  'Damn!'

  'We are going to stop at the Brewery first.  We need to make sure everything is in order before we head into enemy territory.  When in battle, Freddy, an army must always protect its rear!'

  'But...   We are not an army...'

  'O yes we are, Freddy boy,' Vincent replied with an evil grin.  'And you are going to see how much of an army we are really soon my lad!  We are going on an and adventure and you are going to LOVE it!'

  DAMN!

  So there was the brewery.  Looking good!  Time to move on...

  Next stop: the Irish Bar.

  Mr Macleod is going to love this!

  'Knock out one of those bottles Freddy!'

  Vincent was giving the orders and it was Freddy's job just to obey.  Freddy's hands shook as they started fumbling about with the bottles.  The thought of one of them exploding made Freddy want to disappear into a cloud!  It was a horrible business!  And the more he fumbled the more Vincent cursed at him!

  Come on Freddy boy get moving with those damn bottles!

  Vincent was not a patient man, absolutely not, and he wanted the job done quick and clean.  He wanted to deliver a massive blow to the enemy.  He told Freddy he wanted to bring a storm, adding menacingly, 'I am going to finish them all off once and for all!'

  Freddy popped a bottle into Vincents left hand and sliding it over to his right Vincent sliced the thing on light with the cigarette hanging out of his mouth and casually tossed the flaming thing in the direction of the bar across the road from them.

  Fetch us another bottle Freddy.  The job is not quite finished yet...

  Too terrified to do anything else he slipped Mr Vincent King another bottle.

  This second bottle crashed through the front window of the bar and got the whole place ablaze!  Men started to run out of the building.  You could see the shadows of them in or against the flames.  

  That was when Vincent did something so incredibly outrageous that Freddy simply could not believe it.  

  Vincent drew a gun out of the dashboard and aimed it at the running men and started shooting at them!

  Freddy saw at least one of them dropped down on the ground!

  'I don't know if we should really be doing this,' said Freddy in a weak and wobbly voice but the poor man was stammering and shaking for damn good reason!  He was now possibly an accomplice to murder!

  But the nightmare was not over yet.

  Mr Vincent King still had plenty more he wanted to do.

  'Buckle up son!' he said to Freddy.  'The ride is far from done!'

  Next stop:

  The Coffee Shop.

  'This is Brazilian territory,' Vincent explained.  'Toss another bottle over Freddy.  You are about to witness the shortest war in human history.  In the future this day will be forever remembered in Fenwick history as the one hour war.  The war where Mr King gave his enemies a nasty sting!  A war where our family beat them all in one day!  Ah!  Look at that Freddy...  that shop is burning nicely.  Now let us drive.  Next stop:  The Corner Shop!  Time to light her up!'

  'Can I say something you might not like to hear, Mr Vincent?  Should we really be doing this?  I mean, well, aren't the Brazilians going to be super angry that we are burning their properties down?' said Freddy in his usual wet and defeated voice.

  Vincent replied with a smirk.

  Toss us another bottle Freddy boy...

  Before long the Corner Shop was fully and freely ablaze with a terrible and violent series of flames - glass was cracking and wood popping.  The smoke was dark and started to spread until the whole street was choking in it.

  The war is over.  There is no coming back not for them...

  'Now I am turning around but our business is not yet done.  I called one of our people just then and we need to head out and pick them up, so hold on Freddy!  We are on the last leg of our journey - the last leg of the road!  But not my leg - that darn thing hasn't been able to move not from the day I was born.'

  At the end of the road there was a young chap, maybe in his early twenties, waiting for them.  

  'This is our mate, Jack,' said Freddy.  'Open the door for him!'

  Jack slipped into the back seat.

  'I got your call.  What's up Mr King?' said Jack.

  Vincent hurled his upper bulk around and then pointed his gun at Jack.

  Looking down at that barrel made Jack panic - his hand started reaching out to open the door.

  That was when Vincent cocked the gun:
  'Open that door and I will pull the trigger,' said Vincent.  'Now settle down!'

  'How can I settle when you have that damn thing pointing right at me!' said Jack.  'Put the gun away and we can talk!'

  'I give the orders, Jack, and the gun stays raised do you hear me?'

  'Yes...  Mr King, sir...'

  'Good.  It is nice to finally hear you speaking with some respect to me.  You have a been a little cocky of late, Jack, and I am not happy about it.  Neither is the bossman.  Don't forget something, we scooped you out of the bottom of a dirty barrel.  You were nothing before we found you.  Your life was spiralling.  You were facing homelessness.  Mother with a heart of gold took pity on you, and so my brother and I gave you a job and all we wanted in return was appreciation.  So it upsets my brother and I when we hear stories about you wasting our money on nightclubs and flexing your connection to the Kings with your friends.  You are supposed to working for us as an undercover operative, you stupid twat!  You are meant to be our ears and eyes on the street.  You were supposed to tell people you work in a shop!  You don't tell random and possibly dangerous people in a nightclub that you are a spy working for the biggest family in town.  What is wrong with you?  Do you have a dishcloth between your ears?  You idiot!  I should set the lads on you, but big brother Frank wants you gone quick and quiet.  Hence the gun!'

  'Please don't kill me Mr King!  I am young!  I am stupid.  I messed up...'

  'Shut up Jack!  You have had your chance with us.  You were supposed to our informant, keep your ears and eyes open.  And what happens?  The Irish launch a sneak attack on our territory, hurt one of our people my own uncle!  If you had been doing your job properly you would have tipped us off about the attack.  We told you to watch the Irish!  But no!  You were too busy getting drunk and spilling your guts about how you are going to be the next James Bond!  Bloody idiot!  I am going to have to shoot you Jack!'

  'Mr King!  I am an idiot I admit it!  I get it!  I get the rules.  I messed up.  You gave me a job todo and I got excited and I lost control of my tongue!  Just give me another chance, please!  You can't kill me, Vincent mate!  You can't just kill a man out in public like this!  You won't get away with it not even in Fenwick.  Break my legs!  Anything, just don't kill me!'

  'You have to die boy...'

  'Just give me another chance.  I promise I won't mess up next time...  I want to prove myself to you.  I want to work for the Kings!'

  'That won't be happening again.  You are fired from the job and fired from life...'

  'Okay Mr King!  Sack me.  But let me keep my life.  I will run away...  I will go back to England.  I will not talk about this I swear.  Just let me go I beg of you!'

  'Right.  Fine.  I have heard you out.  Now run!'

  Jack got out of the car and bolted away like a madman drunk on G-Juice!

  At the time Freddy wished he could do the same thing...

  'So ends another hard day at work hey Freddy boy?' said Vincent.

  To Freddy's insane relief Mr Vincent King put the gun away.

  'The best way to commit a crime is to do it publicly and right in peoples faces,' Vincent explained.  'Those fools who sneak about they always get caught by the cops in the end.  But those guys who have the guts to act like madmen in the streets with all eyes open on them they always get away with it!  There are two reasons for this.  One:  People can't believe what they are seeing so they chose to believe they just imagined it.  Two:  The cops are too afraid to tackle us madmen!  You see, Freddy, it is like this:  A criminal who sneaks about is a coward.  The cops love a good coward.  On the other hand a criminal who fights in the streets with his naked fists covered in blood then well the cops will look at one another and they will be like this - "I ain't getting involved with that!"  Those are rules of the world Freddy boy!  Now the work is done and the day is over let's go for a nice cozy drive around town!  Buckle up boy!'

  And then Vincent fired the engines into action and took them both down the road at 60 mph.

  When Freddy finally managed to escape the dreaded car he had to go for a slow gentle walk just to make sure that his legs were still working.  

  As he was walking down the street he bumped into a horrible but sadly familiar face.

  It was his creepy creeping uncle Lucien!

  'This is just like you isn't it uncle?  Sneaking about in the shadows.  You are more of a ghost than a man!'  said Freddy.  'If you told me that you were dead I would fully believe that you were!'

  'You need to come back to me Freddy,' said Lucien.  'You do not need a job!  There is plenty of money out there in the fields - below the ground.  There is wealth buried in the dark places of the earth...  You and I can dig it all up and live a good comfortable life!  Join me, Freddy.  We were a good team!  O if you only knew what I knew!  I know a stiff who has been buried with a two thousand pound bracelet!  Think about it, Freddy.  We can split the profits fifty fifty!'

  'This is the last time I am going to tell you that I am not interested!'  Freddy returned angrily.  'Now do not speak to me again.  I don't know why I bother with you uncle!  You are a bloody weirdo!'

  Uncle Lucien took the insult with a shrug and a sneer.

  'You are a silly fool,' Lucien replied.  'A fool who is born a fool will die a fool!  I can smell your demise arriving on the air.  I see things from my little shed window at nighttime - the old ghost is watching and she wants revenge on those her murdered her...'

  'Uncle!  Is that supposed to be a threat?  I haven't murdered anybody!' said Freddy.  'There is no ghost seeking me out for revenge.  You are going to have to find better ways of scaring me if that is your plan!'

  'The ghost is watching all of us,' the wonky old man replied in a sly wisp of a voice.  'She is going to find and destroy her killers and all of those who are friends with them...  Goodnight, nephew.  Sleep well.'

(Remember!  All spelling errors and grammatical mistakes are intentional - the author 😆)

Previous part here

There is a prequel to this story.  Check the link below if you would like to read it:

Jim's Subway part 1

===========================================================

Also take a look at:

My Games
Play Give 'em Hell
Play Elfin Quest
Witches Brew a short text based adventure game!
Also take a look at:
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THE LEGEND OF RUDWIN REVIEW

It Happens At Night 10: Drinking With The Kings

Freddy was not the most charitable or generous of souls in life.  He had burned other peoples credit, got into trouble with the police, and was the enemy of loan sharks.  He had spent the last five years picking the goods from dead bones, wishing the nights away with a shovel in hand while up to his knees in mud.

  And now he was addicted to a fine little green drink called G-Juice...

  A pretty fair argument could be made that the man was a degenerate and not somebody who was really good to know.

  But one day something happened and Freddy decided to do a good deed helping a cheery older lady to cross the road.  

  'Bless you son you are so kind!' she said.

  Freddy felt good about himself.  Here he was finally stepping up and being a man!  O yes!  He felt very good indeed until he was introduced to the ladies son:

  Frank King.

  Before he knew it Freddy was being bundled into the back of a car and driven down a mysterious road...

  'You did good today, Freddy,' said Frank.  'Helping out my Mum!  I am going to pay you back.'

  'O it was nothing I assure you Mr King!'

  'Nonsense boy!  I am going to take care of you from now on.  And I have got a job for you to do.  You are an accountant, yes?'

  'Uhh...Umm.  Yes...' Freddy replied in a mushy soggy silly glush of a voice.

  'That is good.  I need a new accountant for my business.  Up for the job?  I pay well?'

  GULP!

  'O yes.  Of course, Mr King.  I will be your accountant.'

  'That is good to hear, Freddy.  I knew you were an excellent sort the moment I met you.  Now let me show you where I live and then we can get down to business!'

  There is absolutely no denying it that Frank King's private setup was a very interesting fish to describe...

  The man owned an entire block of flats.

  'My brother and I live on the third and second level.  My mother lives on the ground because she struggles with the stairs,' he explained.

  So by virtue of owning all of those flats Frank lived in what can really be described as a massive mansion!

  A mansion on the cheap!  

  Country mansions are often rundown but even when they are in excellent condition they are so expensive to run - but own a blocking of flats with inexpensive maintenance?  Now that was a sweet and pretty impressive move on Franks part.

  Mr King had the whole massive building setup nice and smooth!

  Everything was joined together, it was a picture.

  The stairways bled into the hallways and the hallways lead into the rooms and bedrooms had been turned into offices and dinning areas.  It was all rather splendid.  Mr King had done an excellent job of building an extremely large and plush home for himself.

  'Now this is my brother,' said Frank, and a man in a wheelchair rolled onto the scene.

  So this was Vincent King, and the two brothers could not have been more different.  In fact the contrast between the two men could be described as spectacular.  Almost an achievement!  Truly the imagination of nature had no limits!

  So there was Frank, strapping fellow and smartly dressed, and Vincent over there by his side all bloated, unwashed, wearing a string vest and boxer shorts apparently.  

  Frank was positive, always talking about the future as something to look forward to.  On the flip of the coin Vincent was depressed and hardly said anything that was really worth listening to.

  The first thing Vincent said as he rolled up to Freddy was this:

  'Yes.  I am Vincent.  Vincent King.  And yes, before you ask, yes I am dead from the waist down and have been that way since birth!'

  'Well actually I wasn't going to say anything like that,' Freddy replied nervously.

  'But you were thinking about it weren't you?' said the depressed and fat man.  'And here is something else that will be good for you to know - just because I am stuck in this chair does not mean you can poke fun at me.  Poke fun at me and see what happens.  Go on!  Do it!'

  Freddy was terrified.  He literally did not know what to do!

  Vincent told Freddy to call him fat.

  'Do it!  Call me fat!  I dare you!'

  Backed into a corner Freddy did it.

  'You are fat!'

  Vincent pressed a button and sprang out of his chair and started wrestling Freddy to the ground.

  Frank watching and listening to the scene started to chuckle.  'Bless you brother you never change do you with your tricks!' he said.  He helped his great fat wobbling brother back into his chair, leaving a mortified Freddy lying on the ground totally unsure what to do next.

  'Is it safe for me to stand up?' said Freddy.

  Frank gave him a hand up.  'Now let us arrange some drinks,' said Frank as if nothing strange had just happened.  'We need to toast this fine day!'

  Frank popped open an old bottle of whiskey and started to pour away.

  Freddy and Frank shared a glass each while Vincent insisted on drinking from the bottle.  It was just his way.

  'You are very good with computers aren't you, Vincent?' said Frank sipping his drink.

  'Well seeing as it is the only thing I can do I bloody well should be good with computers,' Vincent replied mordantly.  'That is my life these days.  Sat on the damn computer day after day.'

  'You have the cable setup yet?'

  'Fully installed.'

  Frank told Freddy that the brewery they owned was setup with cameras and they could watch everything from the computer in the office.  'As part of the new deal the Italians have promised to protect the brewery and the warehouse, but I like to keep my own eye on my business.  I cannot take the risk of my enemies trying to harm my property.  There is a war going on out there, Freddy, and I will not let my enemies take me by surprise!'

  Just at that very second the phone rang...

  Frank picked the phone up and put it back down again.  

  He looked a little shaky...

  'It's uncle McGregor!' he said.  'He's been attacked...'

  'This calls for blood!' Vincent cried.  

  'Do we know who did it?' said Freddy.

  'I don't care.  I will get em all,' Vincent replied fiercely.  'Alright Freddy boy!' continued the fat man.  'It's time to buckle up for a mad ride!  You want to prove yourself to the Kings, right?  Yes?  Good, then follow me to the car.  I will drive.  See that case over there.  Pick it up.  Be careful.  It's full of inflammable bottles.  We are going to start a fire tonight my boy!'

  Freddy didn't even get to drink his whiskey before he was being whisked violently down the road in a car being driven by a crazy person who couldn't walk!

  But O my gosh could he ever talk...

  'I have been waiting for this moment, Freddy boy!  Just the slightest excuse to start the flame!' he said.

  Freddy was very afraid.  He was sitting in a car next to a relative stranger carrying flammables on his lap.

  'So these bottles?  They can explode, right?'

  'They sure can baby!'

  'Should we really be driving so fast then?'

  'I think we should.'

  'I think we should slow down.'

  'Slow is for the dead, Freddy!  I want to live fast with the wind in my hair!  Now open the window there I cannot reach it!  Good lad!  Now buckle up boy!  Things are going to get crazy?'

  'They are already crazy!'

  'Forgive me!  I didn't do well at English.  What I meant to say is - things are going to get CRAZIER!  REAL REAL CRAZIER...  or CRAZIERER if you prefer!'

  From the age he could remember fear had always been Freddy's constant companion.  Freddy knew well what it was to be afraid of something: someone, something, a frightening situation - fear existed in everything.  Whatever.  But that day he felt something he thought could not ever hope in his worst nightmares to ever exist.  He experienced true unfiltered fear of a kind no fancy words could explain - it was the kind of fear that had no description not in painting, not in writing or in film...  All that one could deem to do when in the face of such horrible fear is merely gulp and if one has enough strength at hand scream: O CRUMBS!

(Remember!  All spelling errors and grammatical mistakes are intentional - the author 😆)

Previous part here

There is a prequel to this story.  Check the link below if you would like to read it:

Jim's Subway part 1

===========================================================

Also take a look at:

My Games
Play Give 'em Hell
Play Elfin Quest
Witches Brew a short text based adventure game!
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THE LEGEND OF RUDWIN REVIEW

It Happens At Night 9: The Spy With a Weak Eye...

Freddy was walking back to his home which was a toilet when a great shadow stepped out from a corner somewhere and pulled him by his shoulders right over to one side.

  The figure was very tall, spindly, spider-like and pale of skin.  In the darkness it looked like a giant spider was slopping randomly around.  

  Freddy's first thoughts were these:

  'The Grim Reaper has finally caught up with me.  It's over now!  I am going to die!'

  A nearby street light shed same light on Freddy's abductor and it turned out to be his old Uncle Lucien.  So no, it was not the Grim Reaper, grim Mr Death, but easily the next best thing then.

  'You will regret turning against me Freddy,' said the shadowy, cobweb-addled man.

  'I didn't turn against you,' Freddy replied.  'I have just moved on with my life.  I have a new business now and new friends.  It's just how things go.  We change, we make new friends.'

  'It's always been you and I, Freddy.  I am the hand and you are the glove.  We are one.  A cat cannot be a cat without its claws, and Lucien cannot be himself without his dear nephew - armed with a shovel!  We need each other.'

  'No we don't!  I keep telling you I have new friends now and they are a good bunch of lads!'

  'They will betray you.  Everyone you have ever known even your own wife has stabbed you in the back.  You should know that there is only one person you can rely on in life and that is the man you are looking at right now.'

  'O come on Uncle!  You daft twat!  There is NO love loss between us.  Let's be honest with one another here.  We have never got on with one another, not really.  We are not even mates.  You bully and push me around.  You used me because you can't dig up graves.  Well I have had enough and I am cancelling our business arrangement.  It's over, Lucien.  Accept it and move on with your life...  or at least what's left of it.'

  'You are going to regret dealing with me in this way.'

  'What is there to regret, Uncle?  O I am going to really miss getting my hands dirty at the back of some crypt every night, yeah, great laugh.  So much fun!  Sod off, you creep.  I am not doing it no more.  Dig your own graves.'

  'Fine.  Have it your way.  But let me give you a gentle warning, young nephew of mine: there are strange powers at work in the world.  I have seen evil spirits at work outside of my very window.  Dark powers have been awoken.  This town is cursed.  It's broken.  I am old and past caring what happens to me, but thee, young, Freddy, are still young and you should be afraid.'

  'Leave me alone you weird bloody idiot,' Freddy returned aggressively and he pushed the old creep back into the darkness of an unlit alley and ran away back home to the vacant toilet where he lived his life.

* * *

'Look at that strange lonely fellow sat over there.  He hasn't said a word since he arrived, hasn't ordered a drink either,' said McGregor.

  'I don't think I have seem him before either,' Freddy replied.

  'He hasn't moved.  What a really weird guy...'

  'He is creeping me out.  Do you actually think he is alive?' said Freddy.

  'I don't know.  Do you want to go over and check?'

  'NO.  Not yet.  Let's just wait and see if he does anything.  I mean he can't just sit there forever he is going to have to move at some time?  I mean every man has to use a cloakroom, right?  Look at me I live in one!'

  'But what if he is actually dead?'

  'I don't think he is dead.  He still has colour in his cheeks.'

  'Look at him with his suit and his glasses, and he is holding a briefcase...  What is he up to?'

  'He could be a student.  Maybe he is doing research.'

  'Research?  Here in Fenwick?  He chose the worst town for that kind of thing.  I am worried he might be a spy working for one of the gangs...'

  'O no!  I don't think so.  If he was a spy he wouldn't just sit there looking so weird and stupid.  He would try to be your friend, smuggle himself into the business, look for a job.  He would try to get to know you and find out about what you do.  He wouldn't just sit there like that looking so strange.'

  'He is like a man cooked on G-Juice!'

  'Exactly.  Maybe that's it!  Maybe he is just drunk?  It could be something innocent like that.  Just because he looks like a strange creep doesn't mean to say he is evil or anything.  He could just be a drunken dog looking for some sympathy and an ear or two to share.'

  'I hope you are right Freddy,' McGregor responded.

  Just then the stranger terrified both men by suddenly standing up and walking over to them.

  He introduced himself as Wuan, and snapped open his briefcase.

  This is what he had to say:

  'I am Wuan Yea and I own the little gas station across the road from here and I would like to offer you fine gentlemen a free gift.'

  'That's very nice of you so long as it is not a gun or something crazy like that,' McGregor replied cautiously.

  Wuan brought up a good-sized glass bottle brimming with a dark green liquid...

  Freddy was confused but McGregor knew what was in that bottle and the old man gasped with amazement.

  'That is a bottle of original G-Juice?'

  'Yes.  A 1991 bottle to be precise.'

  'No way!  I have never seen a bottle like this before.  I didn't think it was real!' said McGregor with a stammer.  The old wily war veteran had literally been knocked off of his feet at the sight of the green juice!

  The old Scot asked Wuan where he managed to get the bottle from, and Mr Yea replied:

  'It is taken from my private collection, Mr McGregor.  I have been collecting since two thousand and seven.  My collection is quite robust and well supplied.  Here, Mr McGregor take the bottle.  If you cannot bring yourself to open and drink it then put it on one of your shelves for show!'

  'So you have more bottles of this Green Juice?'

  'Yes.  And they are very well hidden and serve as part of my secret collection...'

  'You should be careful, Mr Yea,' McGregor replied carefully hiding the bottle behind his bar.  'These are mean streets and there are men out there who would be willing to fight your for a bottle of the Green G-Juice.'

  'O I am counting on it, Mr McGregor.  Goodnight.'

  And with that the strange little man left the building.

  'Follow him Freddy,' said McGregor the next day.

  The Scot had been thinking about the little man who ran the gas station ALL NIGHT and had been unable to sleep because of it.

  A bottle of original green?

  How was it possible?

  The little man had to be up to some kind of mischief!

  'He must have a lab and is cooking the stuff,' McGregor went on.  'There are no more bottles of green left.  They all got broken when the castle was raided back in the day.  No.  I don't accept this nonsense.  I want you to watch Mr Wuan, Freddy.  That is your new job from now on.'

  'O please don't make me do this Mr McGregor!' Freddy whined in a wet feeble voice.  'Anything but this.  I don't want to spy on that creepy little guy.  I will do any other job.  I will empty the bins I will clean the toilets...'

  'Freddy you are going to spy on Wuan!'

  DAMN!

That evening Freddy paid the gas station a little visit...

  'Nice shop you run here, Wuan, what do you sell?' Freddy started.  His plan was to keep cool and calm, and try not to say anything stupid.  'The shelves are looking pretty empty?  Stocking up?'

  'It is not what I sell on the shelves people are interested in,' Wuan replied, coolly.  'It is what I keep below in the dark hidden away that people really want.'

  'Are you talking about G-Juice?'

  'Of course.  Why else would you be here trying to make conversation with me Mr Colden?  It's all about the G-Juice, right?'

  'That was a very impressive bottle you gifted my friend yesterday,' said Freddy.  'A bottle of the green has not been seen not in many years.'

  'Indeed.  Not since 1991,' Wuan returned calmly.  'It is not the only bottle that I have.  You look thirsty Freddy, can I offer you a nice little drink?'

  'Wouldn't that be inappropriate?'

  'My dear Mr Colden.  It is the year 2025.  What isn't inappropriate?  Wait here, kindly, and I will fetch you a good drink.'

  ‘O very well, if you insist.’

  Freddy still had his mission on his mind, and he thought that maybe a little compliance might win his ear a closer peer into Wuan’s mind and schemes…

  Freddy also fancied a drink - a drink of anything just something to ease is hefty depression.

  And it was not before long that Wuan returned propping up a large bottle of the proper green G-Juice on the counter.  Eventually the bottle was uncorked and soon a glass was being filled up.

  ‘The bottle was sealed with French wax,’ Wuan explained as he poured the green flow.  ‘Now this is a very important vintage of G-Juice.  There is a romance connected to the story of its creation.  In the early nineties there was said to be a madman living in a train who had the recipe for the juice in his hands, and he did a deal with Europe for the production of three hundred bottles of the 91 green.  He shared the recipe with three men with who owned distilleries in France, Belgium and Switzerland.  By 2001 those three men had died, and the recipe for the green was lost.  But the three hundred bottles remain out there, hidden in the alps.  Here try some.  Your lips will be the first to taste this fluid beyond the likes of kings and queens.  Enjoy!’

  There is an old saying that is well known even in 2025, “It will knock your socks off!”  

  Well…  That is how Freddy felt after gushing that first glass of green G-Juice down his gullet.

  The first thing Freddy realised, after ingesting the drink, is how bloody miserable and terrible and truly  unhappy he felt before BECAUSE after that first drink Freddy had his first ever experience of feeling TRUE happiness.  Bliss even!  (And this was at the age of forty).

  He had never felt happy like this before.  Never before.  Not before that first drink.

  He needed to have another one…

  This feeling of happiness… WOW!  It was worth…  Well it was worth anything!

  Worth dying for?  O hell yes!

  ‘I will pour you another drink, Mr Colden, but first you must listen to my story.’

  DAMN!

  Worth dying for?  Okay.  I will listen to your stupid story.  Go on!

  ‘From the age of 8 I knew that I was depressed,’ said Wuan.  ‘My grandparents told me, “You cannot be depressed at such a young age!”  But I was depressed.  I was more than that.  I was broken.  Even a young person can be broken.  The only difference between a young broken man and an old broken man is that there is still time left for recovery, to rebuild.’

  ‘Wuan.  I like you.  I would like to be your friend.  But I really think you should be telling all of this stuff to your doctor!”

  ‘I’ve tried Doctors.  But I find quiet shadows in quiet corners serve far better as ears,’ Wuan returned, calmly and then the little man started chanting eerily:

  Shadows never speak back.

  Shadows never speak rubbish.

  Shadows are what they are.

  Shadows are better.

  Wuan continued his tale:

  ‘My depression reached such a desperate state that at the tender age of twelve I knew that there was no reality out there except sadness.  Sadness was the only truth.  And by the time I turned fourteen I adopted the robes of a professional alcoholic.  I drank whiskey from the bottle.  It was good to begin with.  I loved it!  I was finally in love with something.  I fell in love with hard whiskey.  But then the dark times came.  Alcohol has a way of dong that - it tricks you.  Makes you think everything is good at the start.  It is your friend one minute and your enemy the next.  In five years since I began my love affair with whiskey I was waking up with cold sweats and night terrors.  Then I had delirium tremens.  I saw demons.  I saw a shadow lord one night, counting all of my twelve empty whiskey bottles on my desk with its red eyes and its glowing claws!  I was in despair.  But then one day my life turned around.  It changed for the better.  My life changed because of love.  Love for G-Juice.  O yes, Mr Colden.  I found it.  They green stuff.  It changed everything for me.  It changed how I looked at the world.  Now I could get drunk without the consequences.  No more nasty hangovers!  No night terrors...  And I drank and I drank until I suddenly deiced I was going to sell the stuff so that other people like me, who are miserable, can finally be happy.  That’s my tale, Mr Colden.  Now I will pour.’

  And Freddy drank.

  O the sweet ecstasy! 

  The feeling of G-Juice in the belly was beyond anything Freddy had ever experienced before. 

  Now that Freddy was fully and hopelessly drunk on the green Mr Yea had this to say:

  ‘I will continue to pour, Mr Colden, more and more, so long as you refuse to snore, and adore my words more and more.  Will you listen to me?’

  ‘Yes I will MR…Wuan…yoo… whatever,’ said the drunken slobe.

  ‘I will pour you as much juice as you like, Mr Colden.  So long as you work for me.  I have a job for you.’

  ‘A job?  O yay!  I can't wait!’

  ‘I want you to spy on the King family.  You can do this?  You are in with them, yes?  Tell me all that you now.  Can you do this for me, Mr Colden?’

  ‘Now listen!’ and that little tiny vanishing bit of sobriety in Freddy’s soul snapped back, ‘I can’t betray the Kings!  They have done so much for me!  I am working for them now.  I share their business and all.’

  ‘And that is why I want you to work for me as a spy.’

  ‘I can’t do it Wuan!’

  ‘But you want the delicious taste of G-Juice again on your tongue don’t you, Freddy?  Now you have a taste for it you need it, right?  And I have it, O I have so much of it.  And it is all yours Freddy.  Just share the whispers of the Kings hall with me!’

  ‘I will spy on them!’

  ‘Good man.  Now sheer up!  Here is another glass.  Drink.  Now go home.’

  Freddy tried to go home.

  But he couldn’t.

  He fell over somewhere in some street, and woke up somewhere else, possibly hours later, and he was in complete darkness.

  Good lord?  Am I finally dead?  Am I lost and stuck in purgatory?

  No it would turn out to be worse than that.

  There would be light, finally, but that was only when the trunk was open.

  Freddy was stuck in the boot of a car and several rough men started to pull him out.

  It looked like he had been captured!

  Freddy was pulled up and dragged out like a dirty old trunk full of junk.  Then he was thrown down on the floor.  Slowly finding himself again Freddy stood up and finally and with vast unhappiness met his grim captor:  

  O yes it was non other than Corta Boa Almoço.

  ‘Found you sleeping on the street again,’ said Corta, ‘on my street.  You dog!  You gonna bark, dog, like you did the other day in the Scotch Bar?  Do it.  Bark!  No.  You are going to yelp.  Yelp like a loser.  A loser who has lost their legs.  I dig a hole for you dog,’ he went on.  ‘I put you in it.  You die.  What you say now, you little English pig?’

  ‘Don’t kill me Corta I beg you!’ said Freddy in a sad, stupid, wet slippery rubbish excuse of a voice.  ‘I didn’t mean to speak smack to you back at the Bar.  I was just drunk.  I am dumb and foolish, you know that.  You can have my wife.  Take her.  She’s yours.  Just ket me live.  Please don’t kill me like this I beg you!’

  Corta slapped Freddy around the face for a few times and then he said this:

  ‘If ever wanted you dead I would kill you.'

  'So you are really going to let me live?'

  Corta punched Freddy in the face.  'You do not speak unless I tell you.  Comprende?  Good.  Now listen!  You friends with Italians, yes?  If you spy on them then and I let you live.  You spy on them and you find me in my crib and you yelp, dog.  You yelp.  And I do not need your permission to take your wife, dog.  She is already mine.  I take everything from you, dog.  I own you.  Now bow!’  He gave Freddy one final punch to the face and another punch to the gut for good measure.

  Corta dropped Freddy in the hole, and left him there.

  A few hours later, when he realised again that he was actually able to walk, Freddy return to the Scotch Bar.  

  ‘How’s your day been Freddy?’ said McGregor while drying down a glass.  

  ‘Just another day being an accountant,’ Freddy replied in a soggy and defeated way.

  ‘Do you hold these accountancy meetings of yours in a field?’ said McGregor checking out Freddy’s dirty suit.  ‘You are covered in mud son!  You are always covered in mud!'

  ‘It’s been a hard day that's all,’ Freddy replied weakly.

  ‘There are hard days boy and then there are real HARD days.  And the day you have had looks to have been beyond hard,’ said McGregor and then he continued:

  ‘Here, son, as a treat, enjoy this glass of water.  Don’t worry about opening that purse of yours!  This cup of water is on the house.  I know.  I am so generous.  Now get down into that basement and get some sleep in that toilet down there.  The spiders could do with the company.’

  Freddy took a sip of his cold water drink and went downstairs to sleep in a dark cobwebbed drenched room.

(Remember!  All spelling errors and grammatical mistakes are intentional - the author 😆)

Previous part here

There is a prequel to this story.  Check the link below if you would like to read it:

Jim's Subway part 1

===========================================================

Also take a look at:

My Games
Play Give 'em Hell
Play Elfin Quest
Witches Brew a short text based adventure game!
Also take a look at:
My YouTube Channel
My Books

THE LEGEND OF RUDWIN REVIEW