THE TRAGIC TALE OF HORACE WHITE

A Cautionary Tale

I gasped in horror as the ghoulish figure that was once my wife approached me. I don't know exactly why everything had led up to this moment. I didn't actually wish to find out. All I knew was HOW it had happened. I grabbed the gun off the dresser, closing my eyes as I took a trip down memory lane.

It was two weeks before the Holiday season, and I was waiting for my good friend to arrive. In the meantime, I was playing a game of chess with my son as I listened to the wind howl against the windows. It was an unusually dark, stormy night; one that in lore would usually be seen as a bad omen. I smiled as I looked over at the clock, sighing. Morris was late, and he was usually very picky about being on time. I didn't like the looks of this one bit.

I looked at my son, Herbert, smiling as I asked," So, how is work? I thought I heard something about my son possibly getting a promotion…." I grinned as Herbert blinked, his eyes widening as he asked," H-How did you kn-know about that?" I scowled as he moved his bishop, taking out my queen. I regretted that mistake, but nowhere near as much as I would regret the events that occurred later.

My beautiful wife, Lydia, looked up from reading her 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea novel, and chuckled as she rocked back and forth in her chair, watching our game with interest. Suddenly, we heard multiple knocks coming from the door. I grinned at this realization, surely this means that Morris has arrived.

When I opened the door, I was surprised to find not Morris, but a young man who appeared to be very nervous. In his hands, he held a box and a letter. He sighed sadly, saying," I come bringing bad news…"

I tilted my head, wondering what this young man could possibly be talking about. I quickly beckoned him in, telling him to take a seat. I sat down in front of him as he placed the box down on the coffee table, beginning to open the letter. He sighed sadly as he told me," You know, I heard Sergeant Morris was a great man…"

As he said this, I nearly spilled my wine. The way he said was made me feel rather unsettled, and I would within moments find out exactly why I was unsettled. He nervously held up the parchment that had been concealed by the envelope, beginning to read aloud the contents of the letter. Lydia and I sat and listened to him carefully.

" Dear Horace,

I am terribly sorry to tell you that I in fact will not be meeting you. In fact, I deeply regret to announce we will never see each other again, and that the man or woman sitting in front of you is delivering my will. For you see, I am, or will be within a few minutes, dead. However, do not feel sorrow for me, for my existence is a menace thanks to the artifact I had retrieved, and is also within the box. It is pure evil. Do not mess with it.

Do not even think about using it. I regretted it, as when I held it up in my right hand and spoke my wish aloud, the demonic forces possessing it had already begun my descent into madness. Listen to me very carefully. Due to not having wished with it yet, you should be able to rid this dimension of its unholy powers. I'm afraid I cannot, and will not. I plan to use my third and final wish to end my life, and by the point at which you have read this letter, I will have already done so.

Your friend,

Sergeant Gregory Morris."

I sat there, unspeaking and unblinking as I took in the full impact of the letter. A small tear fell from my face as I looked over, sniffling as I stared at Lydia. She hugged me close as she said," I-I can't… I can't believe he's gone…" I nodded, breaking the hug and looking over at the young man who had brought us this, who appeared to be trying to avoid eye contact.

He nodded, saying," I do feel sorry for you, but I believe he may have been right. I do not know what is in that box, but I recommend you do what he said and destroy it. Either that or he could be just some mad bugger, you never know…"

He got up, leaving with an awkward silence. We stayed silent like that for hours. I threw the box into the fire, his final request granted. I smiled weakly at my wide, and we went up to bed.

I would wake up the next morning, yawning. I reached over, my hands… grabbing a box. I opened my eyes, staring at the charred box. I opened it, seeing the artifact Morris had mention within.

It was an ancient shriveled paw, belonging to a primate of some sort. For whatever reason, I was compelled to see if it did what Morris had said it did in his letter. I held it up, gulping as I tried to think of something. I watched the paw closely as I said," I wish…. I wish… for two-hundred pounds!" I gasped in horror as it writhed within my hand, its fingers wrapping around mine in a handshake of formal agreement. A voice called to me in the back of my head, saying," It shall be done."

Later that day, I would find the same man who had told us of Morris's death, coming to bring bad news about our son. He told us of his death, and of the company's compensation of two-hundred pounds. As he said this, I had fallen to the ground. The only thing upon my mind being," I..I killed Herbert…" I muttered this under my breath, beginning to cry silently.

The man sighed sadly saying," If it makes you feel any better, I will stay with you for the night. After all, I don't want you two shooting yourselves." He rather bluntly stated his intention to prevent our deaths, and I felt a little happier. I invited him in, deciding to allow him to stay.

We played chess; he was obviously trying to cheer us up. I highly doubted some stranger from a law firm who within two days brought news of the deaths of my loved ones could even rouse a small spark of happiness within me. I was proved wrong, however. He made us smiles as he charmed his way to our hearts, making us feel a lot better and convinced that Morris and Herbert had passed on to a better place.

However, he was only charming his way into our hearts so he could tear them out. When I awoke later that night, I heard strange noises coming from the guest room. I had also noted that Lydia was no longer in bed with me. I coughed a little, walking slowly down the hallway, seeing a beam of light shine through the guest room's keyhole. I peered inside, and would be absolutely outraged by what I would see.

There the little prick was, smooching up on my Lydia. I watched, a sense of rage flowing throughout my entire body as he kissed up to her, talking about how much fun they would have together if she'd divorce me. I growled, gritting my teeth as I ran towards the bedroom, leaping over the bed. I would make them pay.

I grabbed the monkey's paw off the dresser, letting my anger control me as I lifted it up into the air, a sense of power flowing through me. I yelled rather dramatically," I wish for the man who wishes to have Lydia to DIE."

I heard a loud crash from the other room, as well as ear-piercing screams. I gasped, dropping the paw in horror as I realized what I had done. I swore, I could hear the same voice from earlier laughing. I ran to the guest room, attempting to open the door, only to find out it was locked.

I cried out, attempting to bash down the door with my own brute strength. I eventually knocked it down, hearing a disturbing splash as it landed in something wet. I looked down, gasping in horror as the red liquid spread across the floor. I looked up, and I regretted ever buying that chandelier for the guest room.

It had fallen on top of Lydia and the man, killing them both rather painfully; piercing their bodies in areas that I didn't even know existed. I cried, whimpering as I fell to my knees, the blood soaking my pants as I cried out for Lydia, even though I knew she would never answer me. I curled up on the floor, sobbing excessively, the blood staining my clothing and hair.

The police would arrive five days later, knocking on the door, saying," Police, open up! I SAID Police open up!" I heard him knock the door over, sniffling as I remained curled up on the floor, the dried blood coating my body. I was still crying, whimpering as they came in. The nearest officer's eyes widened as he looked around, saying," W-What the hell happened in here?" He shook me, trying to get me up.

All I could do is cry, still regretting killing everyone. I watched as he pried me from the blood dried floor, saying," Are you okay?" I couldn't even respond as I looked past him, my eyes widening in horror as I saw a monkey-like figure in its reflection, holding up three fingers, as if mocking me. I couldn't tell whether it was counting the number of people I killed, or the wish I was on as the police carried me out the doorway.

I would return to the home two weeks later, weakened by my lack of sleep. Every time I went to bed, it talked to me. The voice talked to me. It was suggesting wishes to use, it was cracking jokes about Herbert and Lydia, and it even invited me to a mental dinner date. I cried a little, remember all of the good times I had with my family. However, things would get worse later. I went upstairs, avoiding the still-bloodied guest room, and went into my bedroom, laying down on my bed as I let depression continue to do its work on me. I glanced over at the dresser, seeing the Monkey's Paw sitting there, as if mocking me.

I growled in rage, the madness that I had retained from the killings setting in. I grabbed it, attempting to crush it between my hands, until my own madness forced me to make one final wish. I held it up, a horrifying dark aura coming off it and growing as I shouted," Paw of the Monkey! Grant me my final wish! Bring Lydia back to life!"

I could the blood in my veins turn to ice, the shadows of the room coming together to form the imp-like monkey that I had seen in the mirror's reflection. It grinned, saying in the same voice that had haunted my mind," Your wish has been granted. Enjoy your stay in Hell."

I gasped in horror, but grinned as I waited for my wife to return. That, of course, lead to the current events in which I was grabbing the gun off the dresser.

I held it up, yelling at the ghoulish monstrosity," S-Stay back! Go back to your gave!" It responded with a low growl, newly flowing blood seeping from the holes the chandelier had put in it. It approached me slowly. I then looked at the Monkey's Paw, whimpering as I saw that it had closed its hand in a fist. I would get no more wishes out of that.

I let out a cry as I shot the monster several times with the revolver, crying out as I hoped to kill it. I hit it very luckily in the forehead, watching as it fell. I sighed happily. But then trembled as I held the gun up, knowing what Sergeant Morris would think of me for misusing the paw. I needed to apologize to him, face to face, and he was dead. I held up the gun to my jaw, trembling as I pulled the trigger, my last thought being," When we meet, I hope you forgive me, friend."