{"id":1996,"date":"2019-11-14T19:00:32","date_gmt":"2019-11-14T19:00:32","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/jonathanharker.co.uk\/theghostlyworld\/?p=1996"},"modified":"2022-10-26T14:18:57","modified_gmt":"2022-10-26T14:18:57","slug":"tt-horror-stories","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/jonathanharker.co.uk\/theghostlyworld\/tt-horror-stories\/","title":{"rendered":"The Trunk"},"content":{"rendered":"

by Joe Stanley<\/span><\/p>\n

H<\/span>ello. Is this the reporter that wrote the piece on Jack \u201cWheels\u201d Martin? Good. Shut up and listen, cause I don\u2019t have much time left to tell the real story.<\/span><\/p>\n

You got that he shot himself right. And you got that he wrote the word \u201ctrunk\u201d on a piece of paper just before he did it. You then ask what trunk? What was in it? Who has it? What happened to it? Give it up, there is no trunk of evidence or anything like that. That\u2019s not what it means at all.<\/span><\/p>\n

It starts like this. Remember the reporter who went missing and they only found his arm? He was a good reporter, I\u2019ll give him that. He started looking into an unsolved murder. Where the cops found no clues, this guy dug one up. He started asking certain questions of certain people, questions that made me nervous, the kind someone might ask me.<\/span><\/p>\n

So Butch says, \u201cWe gotta teach this guy a lesson, make an example out of him. That message has gotta be don\u2019t stick your nose in other people\u2019s business, it\u2019s not healthy for your nose, or your life, in general.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

We paid a pretty hooker to lure the guy to a hotel room, her saying she has information on the murder, but will only talk about it in a place she knows is safe. He falls for it. We gave the broad enough money to leave town, so don\u2019t look into it.<\/span><\/p>\n

We were waiting in the room, beat the hell out of him. Then, Knuckles gets a little too enthusiastic. He hits the guy so hard, he drop\u2019s like he\u2019s shot. We kick him, but he doesn\u2019t move or even make any noise. We didn\u2019t really mean to kill him, but we weren\u2019t broke up about it, you know?<\/span><\/p>\n

But now, I think he wasn\u2019t dead, but maybe paralyzed or something. He might have been awake and aware the whole time. He could have been screaming in his mind for his body to move\u2026 but it wouldn\u2019t.<\/span><\/p>\n

We rolled him up in a blanket and tossed him in the trunk of the car. Wheels drove over to the \u201cButcher Shop\u201d and Butch did his thing. He\u2019s a real sicko, you\u2019d have to be to use a chainsaw like that. At least it\u2019s quick.<\/span><\/p>\n

I wonder if that guy was still alive when Butch cut his arms and legs off. Was he still there when the head came off? Still trapped in a body that just wouldn\u2019t move… Could he still have been alive until the end? The chainsaw works so fast\u2026<\/span><\/p>\n

It was Butch\u2019s idea to let the arm be found, so the message would still get out. It backfired spectacularly. I already thought Butch was a psycho, but now he was looking like a dumbass, too. You see, the cops looked into the reporter\u2019s death. They came across the reporter\u2019s notes… And then the cops were looking at me and the crew. There\u2019s nothing they like to stare at more than dirty cops.<\/span><\/p>\n

They had nothing really, an idea, sure, but no evidence on any of it. All we had to do was stick together and keep our traps closed. I could feel the pressure, still, and then Knuckles goes missing. We thought he might have turned state, or was thinking about it, so we went looking for him. He wasn\u2019t hard to find.<\/span><\/p>\n

He was at his home, sitting in the living room, stone cold dead. As an ex-fighter, he was not a good-looking man, but the look on his face was a hideous distorted mask. It was fear. There were no bullet holes, stab wounds, or garrote marks. We figured a stroke or something, so we got the hell out of there. I wasn\u2019t too shook up, that was just one less liability.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then Wheels went missing. He had half a dozen places across the city and had visited almost every one. Folks said he came in and tore out as quickly, something scared him. We heard this at each place, but the fifth time was the charm. He went in but never came out. We found him, hole in his head, the word \u2018trunk\u2019, just like the cops would later. There was no trunk, we looked for it.<\/span><\/p>\n

Now it was just me and Butch. I told you I thought he was a looney, and when he started babbling nonsense and blubbering like a damn little girl, I was sure of it. I got him to his place, and fixed him a strong drink. I didn\u2019t listen to what he said, though I know what he meant now. I let him have his drink, then I pulled out my .44 snub-nose. I plugged him three or four times in the belly.<\/span><\/p>\n

I didn\u2019t know that by killing him I only shortened my own time. Maybe only by a day, but it\u2019s a day I can only wish I still had. It seemed like I had it made… No liabilities and I wasn\u2019t going to say a thing. But I was doomed.<\/span><\/p>\n

It took me time to notice it, really, to notice that I kept noticing it. It was a sound, a kind of meaty plop, like slapping a steak on a countertop. I looked around when I realized something was going on but I didn\u2019t see anything. It bothers me now to know that it was there.<\/span><\/p>\n

I just tried to go on with things, because I didn\u2019t know what was happening. But there would be nothing I could have done, anyway. I just went inside, had a couple of drinks, and went to bed. Right as I was falling asleep, I heard it again, a plopping sound just outside my window. I\u2019ve never been so scared in my life. I asked myself what could be so bad that my .44 won\u2019t work? But I didn\u2019t even look. I was afraid of what I\u2019d see.<\/span><\/p>\n

Like Wheels had done, I meant to run, hop in the roadster and get out of there. I got dressed and grabbed the bag I have for these occasions and stepped out into the hall. Then I heard it again, plop, plop, but on the hardwood floor. It was inside. I just stood there, this noise getting louder and closer. And by God, I saw it. It came squirming and wriggling across the floor.<\/span><\/p>\n

I had a gun in my hand, and I didn\u2019t even shoot it. I knew it was no use. So I came back in the bedroom, locked the door, and I decided I\u2019d tell you the story while I still had time. I get a kick out of the idea that no one\u2019s going to believe you.<\/span><\/p>\n

I can feel it messing with my heart, it\u2019s skipping beats. I\u2019m starting to lose my breath. It\u2019s fear. I\u2019m scared, more and more, the closer it gets. It\u2019s outside the door. In a minute or so, it\u2019ll be in here. There\u2019s nowhere to run or hide. It will wriggle and squirm and plop across the floor and I\u2019ll die.<\/span><\/p>\n

Oh my God, the door just opened, a locked door just opened. I see it! I see it\u2026 Maybe Wheel\u2019s meant it was in the trunk of his car, or maybe he was describing it. He shouldn\u2019t have written \u2018trunk\u2019. He should have written \u2018torso.\u2019<\/span><\/p>\n

Note: His horrific screams marked the end of our communication. They were the most pathetic sound I\u2019ve ever heard. When they ceased, I was certain that he was dead. I didn\u2019t buy his story, though. I thought he was crazy, that his crimes were too much, even for him.<\/span><\/p>\n

Then, in the silence, in the deathly stillness, I heard it. It was a wet, meaty sound. Plop, plop, plop…<\/span><\/p>\n

-end-<\/span><\/p>\n

back to previous episode<\/a><\/p>\n

forward to next episode<\/a><\/p>\n

back to list of stories<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

by Joe Stanley Hello. Is this the reporter that wrote the piece on Jack \u201cWheels\u201d Martin? Good. Shut up and listen, cause I don\u2019t have much time left to tell the real story. You got that he shot himself right. And you got that he wrote the word \u201ctrunk\u201d on a piece of paper just […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[113],"tags":[8,208],"class_list":["post-1996","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-joe-stanley","tag-joe-stanley","tag-the-trunk"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/jonathanharker.co.uk\/theghostlyworld\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1996","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/jonathanharker.co.uk\/theghostlyworld\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/jonathanharker.co.uk\/theghostlyworld\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jonathanharker.co.uk\/theghostlyworld\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jonathanharker.co.uk\/theghostlyworld\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1996"}],"version-history":[{"count":7,"href":"https:\/\/jonathanharker.co.uk\/theghostlyworld\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1996\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2952,"href":"https:\/\/jonathanharker.co.uk\/theghostlyworld\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1996\/revisions\/2952"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/jonathanharker.co.uk\/theghostlyworld\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1996"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jonathanharker.co.uk\/theghostlyworld\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1996"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/jonathanharker.co.uk\/theghostlyworld\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1996"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}