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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Horror
- Subject: Horror / Scary
- Published: 10/29/2019
Kevin and Hazel.
I just had to have a go, so here goes.
My grandpa Kevin lived at the top of the town in a home that he was caregiver of. No one knew what had happened to the family.
He was a clerk at the time and studying to be a lawyer. That was 60 years ago.
Someone needed to take care of the enormous property that had been abandoned by the wealthiest family in town.
The Hazel-Dows, it was proudly advertised on a large bronze plaque leading up the long winding driveway, lined in maple trees, to the house. It was more a mini mansion than a house. Grandpa Kevin simply called it the homestead.
When he first moved in the place was a train wreck. Furniture thrown everywhere. but what was worse there was the blood. He said it smelled for months and he could not get rid of it.
Anyway God knows what happened and no one else seems to know. Police investigations, private detectives, and still not one family member has resurfaced in the whole 60 years he has lived in the place.
The case still remains open. Many a story has been made up, family members killing each other, aliens, monsters.
But no one had an answer.
Grandpa had a little bit of a sixth sense, so on his first night in the place, when he dreamt someone was screaming, "stay away from the purse," he took it literally.
He had found an ugly old purse made of denim, long before denim was popular by the way. Sitting on the kitchen bench, beckoning him to open it. At the time he was too busy and thought he would come back to it later. But what made him not open it was the fact that he saw that purse 3 times that day in different spots around the home. There was no one else around to have moved it. Just him and him alone.
I was a curious lad, just 13 when I first heard the story of the purse and thought what a lot of hogwash. I searched everywhere for the key to the safe where the purse lay out of harms way.
At 16 I stumbled across a bunch of old keys and thought I would have a bit of a fiddle with them.
Sure enough, one of the keys went into the lock and there it was. I held it in my hand, just a little scared. Actually I was petrified, ready to open it, and then grandpa walked in, snatched the offending purse from my hand and dragged me down to the lake 2 miles south of the old Hazel-Dow homestead.
We walked across the bridge, then Grandpa threw the purse with all the strength as his old arm had, into the river, never to be seen again.
9 years went by and we never talked much about that day. I had never seen Grandpa so angry but I knew he thought he was protecting me.
He lay in bed tired and weary. His time was coming to an end.
Grandpa , “tell me more about the denim purse” I insisted.
“it’s back here lad, I’ve thrown it away 100 times or more and it finds its way back. I find it all over the house. Just beckoning me. It loved your Grandma, you know. Wore her down. Every time she turned around it was waiting for her, just beckoning that lovely old lady and waiting to devour her.”
I roll my eyes.
“I’m telling you this because my time is up and you have to take over. So here’s the plan.”
Grandpa Kevin always had a plan.
“Firstly, I want you to get one of those fan dangled things” Grandpa Kevin called everything fan dangled that he didn’t have a name for.
He was talking about a CCTV which was right up my alley. I loved technology.
“I’m going in” he yelled, “I’m going in you bastard.”
I can’t help but giggle a bit, but who am I to say.
Grandpa Kevin has a wild, vivid imagination.
So that was that, Grandpa Kevin slowly opened the purse and that was the end of Grandpa.
CCTV I watched from my office, showed one big blurr, a lot of screaming.
At the house, a lot of blood, no Grandpa Kevin, and just another mystery.
Of course I was not foolish enough to move in. All this was back in 85.
Since then the town has lost another 9 people. Mostly homeless that knew. Hazel-Dow homestead lay empty and used as a place to lay weary heads at night.
In 96, in the dead of night, I crept in and poured fuel all over the house, lit a match and went home. Of course it was all blamed on street kids, as I had predicted.
The day after I rummaged through the ruins.
The denim purse sat proudly untouched by the fire amongst the ruins.
I went home and fell asleep, exhausted from thinking about it. When I woke there sat the denim purse, beckoning me. Just waiting to devour me.
I write this from my 4 padded walls, the denim purse sits beside me wherever I move to, SITTING IN WAIT.
“Can you see it?" I ask a nurse.
“No” she says. “It's all in your imagination.”
“just the imagination“
I hear Grandpa Kevin screaming at night, “Stay away from the purse!”
The End
Grandpa Kevin’s purse(Gail Moore)
Kevin and Hazel.
I just had to have a go, so here goes.
My grandpa Kevin lived at the top of the town in a home that he was caregiver of. No one knew what had happened to the family.
He was a clerk at the time and studying to be a lawyer. That was 60 years ago.
Someone needed to take care of the enormous property that had been abandoned by the wealthiest family in town.
The Hazel-Dows, it was proudly advertised on a large bronze plaque leading up the long winding driveway, lined in maple trees, to the house. It was more a mini mansion than a house. Grandpa Kevin simply called it the homestead.
When he first moved in the place was a train wreck. Furniture thrown everywhere. but what was worse there was the blood. He said it smelled for months and he could not get rid of it.
Anyway God knows what happened and no one else seems to know. Police investigations, private detectives, and still not one family member has resurfaced in the whole 60 years he has lived in the place.
The case still remains open. Many a story has been made up, family members killing each other, aliens, monsters.
But no one had an answer.
Grandpa had a little bit of a sixth sense, so on his first night in the place, when he dreamt someone was screaming, "stay away from the purse," he took it literally.
He had found an ugly old purse made of denim, long before denim was popular by the way. Sitting on the kitchen bench, beckoning him to open it. At the time he was too busy and thought he would come back to it later. But what made him not open it was the fact that he saw that purse 3 times that day in different spots around the home. There was no one else around to have moved it. Just him and him alone.
I was a curious lad, just 13 when I first heard the story of the purse and thought what a lot of hogwash. I searched everywhere for the key to the safe where the purse lay out of harms way.
At 16 I stumbled across a bunch of old keys and thought I would have a bit of a fiddle with them.
Sure enough, one of the keys went into the lock and there it was. I held it in my hand, just a little scared. Actually I was petrified, ready to open it, and then grandpa walked in, snatched the offending purse from my hand and dragged me down to the lake 2 miles south of the old Hazel-Dow homestead.
We walked across the bridge, then Grandpa threw the purse with all the strength as his old arm had, into the river, never to be seen again.
9 years went by and we never talked much about that day. I had never seen Grandpa so angry but I knew he thought he was protecting me.
He lay in bed tired and weary. His time was coming to an end.
Grandpa , “tell me more about the denim purse” I insisted.
“it’s back here lad, I’ve thrown it away 100 times or more and it finds its way back. I find it all over the house. Just beckoning me. It loved your Grandma, you know. Wore her down. Every time she turned around it was waiting for her, just beckoning that lovely old lady and waiting to devour her.”
I roll my eyes.
“I’m telling you this because my time is up and you have to take over. So here’s the plan.”
Grandpa Kevin always had a plan.
“Firstly, I want you to get one of those fan dangled things” Grandpa Kevin called everything fan dangled that he didn’t have a name for.
He was talking about a CCTV which was right up my alley. I loved technology.
“I’m going in” he yelled, “I’m going in you bastard.”
I can’t help but giggle a bit, but who am I to say.
Grandpa Kevin has a wild, vivid imagination.
So that was that, Grandpa Kevin slowly opened the purse and that was the end of Grandpa.
CCTV I watched from my office, showed one big blurr, a lot of screaming.
At the house, a lot of blood, no Grandpa Kevin, and just another mystery.
Of course I was not foolish enough to move in. All this was back in 85.
Since then the town has lost another 9 people. Mostly homeless that knew. Hazel-Dow homestead lay empty and used as a place to lay weary heads at night.
In 96, in the dead of night, I crept in and poured fuel all over the house, lit a match and went home. Of course it was all blamed on street kids, as I had predicted.
The day after I rummaged through the ruins.
The denim purse sat proudly untouched by the fire amongst the ruins.
I went home and fell asleep, exhausted from thinking about it. When I woke there sat the denim purse, beckoning me. Just waiting to devour me.
I write this from my 4 padded walls, the denim purse sits beside me wherever I move to, SITTING IN WAIT.
“Can you see it?" I ask a nurse.
“No” she says. “It's all in your imagination.”
“just the imagination“
I hear Grandpa Kevin screaming at night, “Stay away from the purse!”
The End
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Kevin Hughes
10/14/2021Hey Gail,
That was just as much fun to read today as it was when you wrote it. Now that Liilian is on board...well, I think we should have another Author's Challenge! Anyone can join us as we write a short story (or flash fiction) on a mundane overlooked item I shall name in a minute.
First tho, here is my challenge to: Lillian, Hazel, Jason, Gail, Martha and Gordon : A story in any genre...BUT...the main item in the story is...wait for it...wait...LIPSTICK. Yep. Lipstick. Plain old lipstick. You have one day after you read this to come up with a story. I shall work on mine right now.
Ready? Begin!
Smiles, Kevin
Help Us Understand What's Happening
JD
10/26/2021FYI to you all... I just finished adding up the scores and posting the final numbers on the blog. All the stories were great and I am glad I did not have to choose a winner. Readers made the determination based on a number of factors, listed in the blog post, and Hazel and Jason came out as reader's favs. I have already pinned Hazel's story (It's in the queue for main page), and I will give you all 1,000 points each so you can choose which of your own stories you would like to pin. (Note that now that your stories have all been featured, and you've all commented on one another's stories, rated them, etc.... pinning the same stories may not get as much attention from readers as we would all like. May be better to choose a story that has not yet been read/commented on much.) WELL DONE all of you! Loved all your stories! Thank you for participating! :-)
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Jason James Parker
10/21/2021Accepted! My humble entry is in. It's called (very imaginatively) The Hunter. : )
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Kevin Hughes
10/21/2021Aloha JD,
Put me down for the hunting challenge. I have never hunted. I did fish once. I caught one tiny blue fish and let it go. So I have no idea when I’m gonna be able to come up with. But it is a challenge. And they are fun. So count me in. Smiles Kevin
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Lillian Kazmierczak
10/13/2021Oh Gail, I must really be twisted, Imlaughed my way through the whole thing! The evil denim purse...the curse of the purse. I'm sorry I missed the challenge, Imhope somewhere on here is a collection of these! It was a great story! Blood, mystery and an early fashion accessory.
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
JD
10/14/2021Lillian, I don't know if you're interested or not, but please read the challenge posted by Kevin in this comment thread, and my response. He's challenging you, Gail, and several others to a write-off.... :-)
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Gail Moore
10/13/2021Thanks so much for your awesome comment.
Yes there is, one by Kevin Hughes and one by Hazel Dow
I thought I'd add them to the mix just for fun.
Please write one, I will be your number one fan :-)
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Bernardo Mendes
10/13/2021Excellent story, I really loved it! I feel kinda bad for the main character though.
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Gail Moore
10/13/2021Yes Bernardo, I guess the main character really drew the short straw.
Thanks so much for reading :-)
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Gail Moore
03/04/2020Thank you so much Teresa, I really appreciate you taking the time to read and make such a lovely comment.
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Jason James Parker
12/02/2019It takes a deft hand to make a denim purse creepy and you've nailed it, Gail.
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Gail Moore
12/02/2019Thanks very much Jason. This was a challenge to see how creepy we could make a purse. Have a go I would love it if you did. I have another up my sleeve. I just have to get my bum into gear and put it into words.
Thank you :-)
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Melody Kuku
11/05/2019I don't know about the challenge you took up but this is a really interesting spooky story. It's not so spooky-spooky (mild spooky is good for my heart) so I enjoyed it. I'm hitting the 5 stars button.
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Aziz
11/02/2019The challenge is so exciting and we, as readers, benefit from your amazing works.
Excellent story Gail and your selection for the writer of the month is well deserved.
All what you write is interesting and exciting
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Shamik Dhar
11/01/2019Congratulations Gail on being selected as the story star author of the month!
Regards,
Shamik Dhar
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Kevin Hughes
10/29/2019Bravo! Denim no less. That made my Kathy laugh out loud for the simple reason I must be the only child of the sixties who has never own or worn Jeans! And adding me and Hazel into the mix- pure genius. I love the touch at the end...sitting in a padded room where no one but her can see the purse. Yep.
Let's see what Hazel comes up with, and what she thinks of us amateurs toying with her genre!
Smiles, Kevin
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Gail Moore
10/29/2019Thank you JD, yes it was a bit of fun. It’s that spooky time of year.
NZ didn’t know what Halloween was until about 15 years ago. It’s really taken off a treat.
Have a great day. I will go and read The Halloween bag. :-)
Help Us Understand What's Happening
JD
10/29/2019This was a fun challenge you both took up. I think you were both inspired by Hazel and her people-swallowing top hat, from 'Merlin'. After all, if a hat can swallow someone, then of course a purse can as well! And this idea reminds me a little, not a lot, of Elaine Faber's 'The Halloween Bag'. If you haven't read that one yet, you'll have to do so. It's a totally different kind of creepy though! I hope that Hazel follows suit with her own purse story, because I'd love to see how she tops you all off in this battle of purses! LOL.
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Kevin Hughes
10/29/2019Gail,
Ha.Ha. Ha. LOL I am going to dream about being able to sleep without thinking.
Smiles, Kevin
COMMENTS (11)