This is part of a set of trial stories. If I don't get reviews, I don't finish the story.
Full House
The Hand
I was working the late shift at a local bar one night. It was a fairly slow day, which wasn't unusual. However, something happened that changed everything.
She was about 18 years old, blond hair, and carrying a back pack.
"What can I get you miss..." I greeted.
"D.J.," she replied. "A Coke, please." She seemed tense. I guessed she was a runnaway, which wasn't uncommon around here.
I noticed she was staring at the robotic hand in the glass jar. It was one of our more popular attractions.
"Like it?" I asked her. "There's a pretty interesting story about it. Folks say a guy's girlfriend killed him, chopped up his body. All that was found was his bloody hand...And there it is."
The hand began to tap on the glass, pointing at D.J. The girl stared at it uneasily.
"That's my friend, Doug working behind the bar," I told the girl. "Seems to like you."
"...I don't want that thing pointing at me...please," she said.
"Sure," I replied. I was never one to take a joke too far, especially on a kid. "Doug, cut it out."
The hand stopped pointing. The girl glanced at it afew times, then turned her attention to her drink.
Some time passed, and D.J. finally left her stool, and started playing pool with some boys about her age. She seemed fine, but I still sensed she had something on her mind.
The guys started laughing.
"What?" asked D.J., laughing a little. "What's so funny?"
"Someone's pointing at you," replied a brown-haired boy.
The girl looked over at the hand, which had started pointing to her again.
"Hey," she called to me, her voice growing angry. "I told you I don't want that thing pointing at me."
"Sorry," I called back. "Doug, knock it off."
The hand continued tapping, refusing to stop.
"Doug!" I called. "I said stop it."
Just then, Doug came inside. "Stop what?" he asked me. "I just got here. They needed me to unload a truck out back."
I grew confused. No one but Doug knew how to work that machine.
"Just cut it out, okay," D.J. pleaded, growing upset.
"I'm sorry," I replied. "I don't know what's wrong with this thing."
"Shut it off!" the girl screamed, her face turning red. D.J. picked up a glass, and threw it at the hand, shattering the case, and knocking the hand on the ground.
The finger kept pointing at her.
The boys she was with held her until help arrived. Turns out she was wanted for the murder of her boyfriend. Just like the legend said, all that they found...was a bloody hand.