Ivor Blythe, Age 18

Slipknot

The piercing shriek of the phone cut through the cold morning. Slipknot awoke from a dreamless slumber rolled out of bed. He slept on the first floor of his apartment and the phone was on the second. He wasn't worried though, he could climb anything. He mounted the stairs and began his ascent to the phone.

"Mr Slipknot, I have a lucrative business offer that deserves your attention". The voice on the other end of the phone was crisp and simile like.

"I'm listening" spoke Slipknot, his fingers curling with anticipation.

"Good. There is a man, James Barwick, who has wronged me in ways you can't imagine."

"You want me to kill him?" inquired Slipknot.

"Not yet. First I want you go to town on this dude. Like, seriously ruin his day." Said the voice on the other end of the phone. "I understand you have certain skills. Skills that mere mortal men may only dream of."

"I'm the man who can climb anything" said Slipknot.

The man paused. Slipknot could hear him breathing heavily into the receiver. "So, the rumours are true" he said at last. "Ruin this guy for me and I'll you like, £1,000,000."

"Pleasure doing business with you, mysterious voice" said Slipknot.

"WAIT" cried the voice. Slipknot waited. "I need you to really mess this guy up. Seriously, he's got to wish he was never born." Slipknot smiled thinly and hung up. He reached into the cupboard and grabbed his grappling hook, abseiled down the stairs and was out the door in three minutes.

James Barwick was already having a terrible day. He'd spilt cornflakes all over his shirt and had to blast it with his wife's hairdryer. Then he'd nearly driven the car into some kid as he drove at breakneck speeds towards the multi-storey parking lot.

His car was a factory new Ford Focus and he was exceedingly proud of it. He parked it on the fourth floor and walked over to the machine to buy a ticket. He made a mental note to buy his wife a gift on the way home, it was their 10 year anniversary today and he wanted to buy something that showed her how much she mattered to him.

The ticket fluttered out of his hand and onto the floor of the carpark. There was a man perched atop his car, clad in climbing gear and holding a brick. James watched as the man brought the brick down with all his might onto the windscreen of his brand new car.

"HEY!" he shouted dashing towards the car. "Who the hell are you and what are you doing to my car."

"Tis I, Slipknot!" cried the man.

"Dude, how did you get up here, we're like 4 stories up"

"That climb was child's play for one such as I, THE MAN WHO CAN CLIMB ANYTHING." Crowed the man. When this failed to draw a reaction from James besides more angry shouting, Slipknot hefted the brick and caved in another window.

"Dude, stop hitting my car." Moaned James.

"No" said Slipknot, he hurled the brick through the backseat windows and watched it sail through the window on the other side. Then he gave James a cocky salute and scuttled off. James pursued him out of the building and watched with dismay as Slipknot crawled up the side of a nearby building.

"What a day this has been" he mused.

James spent a full fifteen minutes apologizing to his boss. He omitted the part about the crazy climbing guy. That was too weird and not particularly believable. Eventually he was let off the hook and he made his way dejectedly to his desk. James was a stockbroker by trade and a damn good one, at least he thought so. He'd been in the business of broking stocks for several years now and was waiting to receive that magic phone call from the higher ups, the sign that he was in line for promotion.

"Hello, James" came a voice to his left. He turned to see Slipknot perched on top of his desk in a suit and tie.

"YOU AGAIN!?" cried James. "What are you doing here?" People were looking around and staring at the two men.

"I'm your new co-worker, James. Your boss wants you to show me the ropes." Cried Slipknot

"I really don't have time for this, I'm trying to get promoted right now and I don't need you climbing all over my stuff." Spat James. Slipknot wordlessly jumped off James' desk and left his office. His climbing boots had made deep dents in the surface of the wooden desk.

"You haven't heard the last of me, James" he said before swiftly exiting the room.

James sighed and placed his head in his hands, hoping he'd seen the last of Slipknot. He set about sanding the grooves left by the spiked climbing boots. He needed some good news. Then the phone rang. James gasped audibly, this was it.

"…hello" he said nervously into the receiver.

"Hello Mr Barwick, THE BOSS would like to talk to you in his office." The phone went dead.

This was it, his big ticket up. Not just any boss, THE BOSS. Rumour had it that THE BOSS had once got into a bar fight in central Soho. In order to win, he'd bought the bar and ordered his assailants to leave. He was the ultimate business man.

James took the lift up to the 50th floor. He'd never even been above the 24th floor before. The 50th floor was a private penthouse made exclusively of mahogany wood. He knocked on the mahogany door. "Enter" came the voice of THE BOSS.

James entered the room and gazed about in awe. He'd never seen so much mahogany before. "Sir, I've read all of you books and I'd like to say what an honour it is to…"

"You're fired" said THE BOSS. He was seated in a mahogany swivel chair with his back to James. Mahogany smoke rose from his cigar.

"But sir, I've done nothing wrong, please" begged James.

The chair swivelled around dramatically to reveal Slipknot. "Perhaps you didn't hear, James. I'm THE BOSS now."

"But you've only been working here for an hour, how are you already THE BOSS?" gasped James. Slipknot gave a hearty laugh.

"You forgot James, I am Slipknot. I climbed right to the top of the corporate ladder." he exclaimed with joyous glee. "Now pack your things and get out of my building".

James drove home dejectedly. It was midnight, he'd spent all day in the bar, drowning his sorrows. How was he going to live without stocks to broke? How was he going to explain all this to his wife?

His wife, shit. He'd forgotten to get her an anniversary present. She was not going to be pleased. But his wife wasn't in the sitting room, nor was she in the kitchen. James searched the lower floor of his house fully before proceeding to the second. He heard strange noises coming from the bedroom.

Flinging the door open, he was confronted with a sight that haunted him for the rest of his life.

"Hello James, I climbed into bed with your wife. I can climb anything don't you know?" said Slipknot nonchalantly.

"SLIPKNOT?!" screamed James "Stop having sex with my wife!" Slipknot shrugged and the punched James' wife in the face. "Why the hell would you do that?!" cried James.

"She had a mouth" replied Slipknot.

"THIS IS THE LAST FUCKING STRAW, SLIPKNOT!" bawled James. He picked up the knife on the bedside cabinet and plunged it into Slipknot's chest. Then he collapsed to the floor weeping softly.

The next evening, James was curled up in a prison bed. The trial was in three days, he'd already confessed to the police officer and was planning to plead guilty. He couldn't believe how quickly his life had gone sideways. Now he was looking at life in prison without a chance of parole. He'd lost his car, his job and most importantly his wife. She'd gone up north to stay with her parents, she deserved better than him.

James gave a resigned sigh. It was all over for him and frankly he was exhausted. All he wanted now was to sleep.

"Hello James" said Slipknot.

James leaped out of his bed and clubbed his head on the ceiling of his tiny cell. "How the actual fuck did you get here?" he groaned.

"I climbed my way out of hell, James" said Slipknot. "I'm the man who can climb anything".

"Hell is real?" gasped James.

"You'll find out soon enough, mate" replied Slipknot. He wrapped his climbing rope around James' neck and strangled the life from him.

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