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J. Allen Wilson

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Exercise In Fear
By J. Allen Wilson
Last edited: Saturday, July 28, 2007
This short story was "not rated" by the Author.
       
Recent stories by J. Allen Wilson
· The Thanksgiving That Was and The Silver Star
· “Ceremony of the Gift”
· Twice Loved and Twice Left
· A Boy and His Journey
· The Death Of Josiah Johnson/ 2nd installment
· The Death Of Josiah Johnson
           >> View all 37
High above the street in the confines and safety of the Hancock building his mind wandered with ease across a city that had no soul; a city that was ripe for the picking. He hated himself for this feeling that pillaged his heart, but he could not control the urges when they came

Exercise In Fear


The darkness gathered once more and clouded Devon’s mind. It had been nearly a year since he had felt this way and now it had returned once again. He stared blankly out the window of his office at the fog as it rolled in like a gray blanket of death from the bay. High above the street in the confines and safety of the Hancock building his mind wandered with ease across a city that had no soul; a city that was ripe for the picking. He hated himself for this feeling that pillaged his heart, but he could not control the urges when they came.


Just then the phone rang jarring Devon briefly into the world of the living. He could see from the flashing light on the phone that it was his receptionist Leah calling to give him his morning schedule of infernal meetings with clients that he did not even like; come to think of it, Devon really didn’t like anyone much at all. He was a persistent loner who preferred his own company to that of others. He remembered as a child his mom dragging him from one specialist to another only to find out that there was nothing mentally wrong with a boy who had no friends and who would rather spend time with his collection than playing ball with a bunch of neighborhood morons.


The phone quit ringing and the knock at his office door brought his attention back to the matters at hand. Devon buzzed the door so that Leah could come in. The door swung wide to the right giving entrance to Leah and a sweeping view of the lobby. In the lobby sat Harold Crenshaw his 9am. Harold is a cold overweight balding man who appeared to be about fifty if one were to venture to guess, who despite his designer suits and one hundred dollar an ounce cologne, he still smelled of perversion and sickness. To the contrary there was Leah who was warm and pleasant to look at. Her infectious smile at times even brought a tiny bit of pleasure to Devon. She always looked smart in her simple outfits and reminded Devon of a teacher he once had who actually seemed to understand him. Today Leah wore a plaid skirt about knee length and simple cotton blouse.


“Excuse me Sir” Leah said, “Mr. Crenshaw is here with the contracts that he said you needed to sign before he could conclude the deal of that home you want to buy”.


Devon curled his lip slightly as if to smile and asked Leah to show Crenshaw in. He watched as she nodded politely and turned to retrieve his necessary end to his means. Devon for a year now has sought to purchase the “Pacifica” a large ancient hotel in Bodega Bay once owned by Mariano Guadalupe Vallejo according to folklore. It was here on this 23 room estate he was said to have murdered and buried 17 prostitutes from San Francisco. It was not until he was apprehended and imprisoned during the “Bear Flag Revolt of 1846 that the truth of this madman became apparent. All told from the graves that were found, the number of murdered women exceeded 36. Some say there were more and that they just weren’t found, some say the place is haunted by these very women from so long ago.  This is the very reason that Devon began his quest last year to purchase the place, for that was when the darkness began to cloud his mind and the dreams began to call him by name…It was then that the urges began….


(end of part one)


J. Allen Wilson © 7/07


 


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Reviewed on August 8, 2007
Good description. Devon is an interesting, somewhat negative protagonist. I'll have to look for the rest of this one. I would just say pay closer attention to tense. Sometimes you're describing in present tense, and the rest of the time you're describing in past tense.

Kate

Reviewed by m j hollingshead
Reviewed on July 30, 2007
more

Reviewed by D Johnson
Reviewed on July 29, 2007
As a kid I remember living in Vallejo and at times going to Bodega Bay...so let's go with part deux.

Dan

Reviewed by Ed Matlack
Reviewed on July 28, 2007
Hey, what happened to little Jimmy & Carolina Knoll...? That story had me enthralled & now you are starting a new one...LOL, Ed