The Chair's Secret

   Old, tired and worn out, that is what I am.
My legs are not straight any more and my colour is fading. I don't know how old you are but if you are close to my age and also a male, your legs are probably not beautiful either!

   Legs are strange things, don't you think so? At the start mine were very elegant, even for me not being female. But at the time I was born, men were far more elegant than today with white silk stockings decorated with ribbons; and velvet trousers and jackets. And expensive white wigs and lots of jewellery to show their wealth and status. Their shoes... very elegant with silver, sometimes even golden buckles. Of course I never wore shoes or stockings. My legs were always bare, only covered in white paint with a golden glow in the groins.
I was dressed in brocade with gold thread. Can you believe how beautiful this was? Particularly when the sun shone on it or with candlelight. The flickering flames brought the gold to live. If... only if I was on my own and not used.
Yes, people used me. I hope you are not thinking that this is the same as being abused.
   Maybe I have to explain that I am not a human being, I am a chair. These days an elegant chair as I am might not be too useful and only to show off but back then my fellow chairs were the same.

   Being a chair is quite eventful. There are so many different.... uhm .. bottoms that made use of me. Not everyone in the very old days was tiny or slim. At least not in my castle. The older they got the bigger their bottoms. I dreaded the huge matrons trying to wriggle them selves between my arms. They pretended to be slim but they were not, still they wanted to sit on me. Can you imagine how that felt? First of all you see her coming, her perfume floating miles ahead of her (perfume was used to hide the not so fresh body odour, another challenge for a chair...). You have good hopes that she decides I am too small but no. She stops in front of you, turns around and oh my.... Do I have to go into detail?

   It was not all misery. I (still) live in a grand castle and I am told there are or were, many more of me in many rooms. And all served numerous bottoms of generations of owners and guests. Fortunately once in so many years we were reupholstered and our seats refreshed with new horse hair and singles to carry another generation.
But then came the day that changed our lives......

   I already heard rumours going round about the great financial losses of my owner.
I need to say I wasn't too surprised; so much money was spent on gambling, drinking, parties and mistresses. The rows with his bookkeeper and wife got worse and worse. I never understood anything about his business but from the furious conversations in my presence, I knew that the money that was going out was a lot more then that what came in.
   His wife was often in tears; she did not get any credit any more at her suppliers and thought she already spent her life in poverty. Which I doubted, but I could not say anything of course.
But my owner did not listen and said he was going to earn all the money back, people owed him large sums. He did not mention however, that these people were also almost bankrupt due to their gambling addiction telling their wives the same story!
   I witnessed my owner from being a wealthy man with mistresses, a wife and children, becoming a desperate poor castle owner; his life at risk due to his debts.

   One evening, during one of the numerous meetings with his bookkeeper (a very loyal man who worked for the company and family much longer than he remembered), someone knocked at the door. Not a polite or gentle knock! It was more banging, driven by a huge anger....
The butler tried to stop the visitor but by the sound of his scared voice, the visitor made his way to our room. The door flung open and there he stood; the man who lend a huge amount of money to my owner and who wanted every penny back. Right now and here. And he was furious!!
Debts do strange things to people. Either they become cool blooded monsters to get their money back or they become crying desperate pathetic little men, not being able to pay back.
   Of course you want to know who the latter was.... it was the bookkeeper of all people. And it was not even his fault!
While the other two man challenged each other's anger and power, the bookkeeper crawled backwards to a corner, one hand in front of his face, the other pushed forward with wide spread fingers as to protect himself.
When he passed me, I noticed a terrible smell and saw that he wet himself in fear. I felt so very sorry for the man but also understood his fear, I too saw the two pistols in the hands of the other men and knew it was only a matter of time before we were going to hear the first shot.

 Again the door flung open and the butler catapulted himself into the room, the brave man.
It made the other two turn to the door and then, completely unexpected, one of the guns went of. It was such a chaos that I still don't know who's gun, but I still remember who got killed....
 I promised myself and everyone, never to mention a name or gender, never! But I can tell you that it was not the butler, not the bookkeeper (who fainted when he heard the shot) and not the two other men.

 The smell of blood competed with that of gunpowder and seemed extra strong in the one minute of complete silence in which everyone tried to come round with what happened. Then there was shouting and desperate whispering about what to do next. The butler was summoned to close and lock the door and he obeyed like he had done for 40 years.
 All three men now discussed what to do with the body of that very unfortunate intruder who (and this was accidentally very fortunate) would not be missed being one of the most unpleasant creatures walking on two legs in this part of the world.

   While the discussion went on, I looked at the bookkeeper and noticed his very strange pale complexion. I wanted to attract the attention of the other three men but nobody paid any attention to me and I sighed a very deep and desperate sigh, feeling old and useless.
   The men came to an agreement; my owner walked to the door in the corner of the room, more a cupboard door then a real door because it was made just above the panelling. I knew this door led to a very small room with a secret passage to deep inside the castle and only the owner of the castle knew about it's existence.
But this was a different situation and owing the other man so much money, he showed him where they could hide the body and where it most likely, wouldn't be found for a long time, if ever.

   The next hour the men were busy moving the body, pushing it through the little door and believe me, this wasn't an easy thing to do! The deceased was not very petite!
Finally they disappeared into the small room and it did not take long before all the sounds of huffing and puffing, faded away.
   By the time they returned I worked out myself that the bookkeeper was not 'amongst us' any more and most likely died because of a heart attack. Or just pure fear. Whatever the cause was, he was dead too.
You might think that this was a real shock to my owner but I underestimated his empathy. He watched the poor dead man for a while, then sighed in relief and fell backwards on top of me. And this is when my legs cracked but he did not notice it. He leaned forwards, thinking of what he was going to do next.
   At least I have to give him credit for wanting a descent funeral for the poor man who left a wife, children and grandchildren.
Before they carried him out of the room, my owner lifted me and put me in front of the little door he carefully sealed, mentioning me of not being of any use to anyone any more.
   I watched them walking away, carrying the bookkeeper who's dangling head and arms moved in the rhythm of the footsteps of the others; the butler holding his feet.

   Within a few months time, the family left the castle. Many of their belongings were sold to pay off the debts but some uninteresting items were left to keep me company.
   The last I heard was the lock of the door; I was on my own and remained this for ages until a few years back when a group of young people entered the long abandoned castle, calling themselves 'urban explorers'.

   They managed to open the door and entered the room, surprised to find the odd things but disappointed that it was not hiding any secrets.
And why moving an old chair with crooked legs when it was not in the way of the door to another room? They passed me on their tour through the rest of the castle, leaving me with that terrible secret I never learned to live with.

Photo: @marshallubx (Instagram)

   A secret like a monstrous lump, growing and growing in my memory and body. When it is going to burst? I don't know. Maybe you will find me one day, asking yourself why I look if I exploded.
   But even then you will not know it was that secret that finally came out. You will not stand still to listen to the name of the dead person, whispered by the horse hair sticking out of the large hole in my seat.....

Word of thanks: the photo of @marshallubx (Instagram)) inspired me to write this story and I was given permission to use the photo as an illustration for which I am very grateful. Thank you Marshall!

Links: please visit the beautiful Instagram account of @marshallubx

Note: the story is pure fiction! A figment of my imagination!

Helen

The Shackles (short story)

    He could not take his eyes of her, she was beautiful! The way she laughed, the way she moved and even the way she held her pint. A relative simple thing holding a pint but she almost made it an art. Her long fingers with the purple nails that shone in the light, a ring on every finger, touched the glass as if it was pure crystal; it caused a stir in his belly.

   He loved jewellery and touched his own golden chain with the large and very solid shackles around his neck; something he often did. He paid a hideous amount of money for it. The deep yellow coloured beautifully by his black earrings in the delicate golden settings and the complicated tattoo in his neck.

    No, he was definitely not Mr. Average! He was not dull or dreary. The girls in the Gym loved him and although he had never been in love with one of them, he made love to quite a few. Usually one night stands but who cared; his whole life was still in front of him and the workouts to improve his already impressive shape, were more important than walking around with a high heeled and half naked sexy girl on his muscular arm.

    To be honest, as soon as a girl showed signs of claiming him, he backed off immediately. He was not well educated but the girls that fancied him were worse. It was fine as long as they flattered him but as soon as they started talking about wedding dresses or even worse, children, his underdeveloped brains registered 'DANGER'. Indeed in capitals, red capitals. All alarm bells went off and he started the only defence he knew: ignoring. Quite often if not always, the girl moved on to another fellow bodybuilder.

   But this girl in the Pub was different. He knew she was far more intelligent, he could tell by the look in her eyes. The way she looked at him. He noticed immediately that he caught her attention and the stir in his belly became stronger when she smiled at him without interrupting the conversation with the girl next to her who was less beautiful but like her friend muscular and with stunning legs.

He was not interested in the other girl, he was interested in 'purple nails' as he called her until he found out what her real name was. And he was desperate to find that out as soon as possible!

   He finished his drink, rolled his muscles while he watched the two girls.

'Purple nails' whispered something in the ear of her friend who now turned round to take a look at him. This must be his very lucky night; two amazing girls, two Amazons who were clearly interested in him. He smiled back and lowered his eye lids halfway. He was well aware of the effect he had with his long dark eye lashes and mysterious green eyes and again he was successful: the girls winked and raised their glasses. He knew not to look too greedy and he tilted his head a little, smiled and looked around if he wanted to say: “You probably mean someone else instead of me?” The girls laughed and winked again.

    He left his stool and walked slowly to impress them with his godly body; the golden chain sparkled by every move.

The girls kept smiling but did not giggle; another proof so he thought, that they were different than the Gym Groupies. They introduced themselves as Suzie and Janet, two ordinary names for two extraordinary girls, this crossed his mind before he mentioned his own name: Alejandro (which was of course not his real name but it sounded so more exotic than Alex).

   The girls, who admired his body while he stood in between them hoping there would soon be a stool available so he could show them his mighty thighs in the best position, offered him a pint but he refused and offered them a drink instead. “What ever you want, I pay” and took his wallet from his pocket. A wallet with a chain, particularly after last night's deal where he earned a lot of money! He was not stupid so left a part of it at home but he was going to use a great amount of it tonight to treat his 'Amazons'.

    The girls said they did not want expensive drinks as he looked like someone who worked hard for his money. An honest person they did not want to rip off.

But he said that money was not a problem and joked that he could always sell his 20 carat chain. Suzie with the purple nails, bend over to touch the chain and made sure she also softly scratched his skin, knowing the effect it was going to have on him. “Is it really gold?” she asked admiringly. “Aren't you afraid someone is going to steal it from you?”

   He laughed, moved his arms and said: “Have you seen my muscles? No one will dare to steal it!” Both girls stared with large admiring eyes at his muscles and asked if they could feel how strong they were.

He almost blushed when 2 pair of elegant hands folded around his arms and softly squeezed. Suzie squeezed a little longer than Janet as if she was reluctant to let him go. He watched her eyes and noticed she bit on her lower lip which was, he thought, extremely sexy. The stir in his belly changed into another feeling of which he hoped it was no visible for her. But both girls were polite and kept looking at his eyes. Janet mentioned his long eye lashes and the green colour of his eyes: “Like a grassy field in the morning dew, aren't they Suzie?”  

   And Suzie agreed, telling him she never saw green eyes like his before and that, oh how cheeky she was, the colour must change into a deep green like a wild ocean when he was emotional.

It was at this point that he fell for Suzie, his heart started to race and his blood pressure did things to his body that were not appropriate in a Pub.

   And suddenly he wanted to leave the Pub, wanting to go somewhere where he could make love to her, even if it was with Janet too. He could handle it as along as Suzie was part of it. But of course you did not tell a lady this within the first 10 minutes after the introduction, so he behaved but was not sure for how long.

   The two girls knew exactly what was going on with Alejandro. They played this game before and always successful. It was not a coincidence they met him in the Pub, they knew from a friend Alejandro would have called a Gym Groupie, that he was going to be here. The friend that knew about last night's deal because Alejandro did have more muscles than brains and because he loved himself more than anything else... well... apart from his golden chain and other jewellery of course he bragged about.

    He was such an easy victim and like so many men before him, overwhelmed by the charm of Suzie and the prospect of an evening full of fun and beyond with two girls! He was a young stallion with racing hormones and they knew how to handle him.

   It was not very likely that he was going to remember much tomorrow, the pills in combination with the alcohol were going to do their work. As soon as the mist in his head would clear up, he was going to have a lot of questions; not only about Suzie and Janet who he was not going to recognize again - if there was a chance of meeting again anyway, wigs, false lashes, coloured lenses were mighty weapons - but also about some if his precious belongings.

    But how little did all of three knew how the evening was going to end. Never before had the pills such an effect on someone. Instead of making him sleepy before his wild night started, it made him psychotic and he fought for his life. He was out of control, cried, yelled and frantically waved his arms to chase away the demons that occupied his not so developed brains.....


   The jogger that lost his way in the woods because his mind was elsewhere, discovered an old rusty car he had never seen before. He looked around but did not even see a path. How could he have been so stupid?

The sun disappeared behind the clouds and did not guide him where to go.

The temperature dropped quickly and standing still, he felt the cold. He took the fleece from his rucksack and put it on. It felt much warmer but there was still a cold feeling he could not explain and which caused unpleasant shivers and goosebumps. He looked at his mobile to find the GPS and to run home from there.

Photo: @beautifully_derelict_ni (Instagram)

   He walked a few metres back and forth before he had a good signal and doing this, his elbow bounced against the old car. Ouch! His free hand rubbed his painful elbow while he looked through a window that was covered in green moss. At first he did not know what he saw but very slowly his brains digested what was in the back of the car. What looked like a heap of cloths, turned out to be a body. Or what was left of it. Black holes instead of eyes and a mouth. Teeth grinning at him. The skull was visible in between the decaying dry chin that looked like leather.

   The jogger sighed in relief, as a pathologist he had seen worse and he knew his first impression was going to be helpful for the police he was going to call right now with the coordinates of this place. It was within his district and he knew he was going to do the post mortem, very curious to know if indeed the only thing that still remained as it was, caused the death by strangulation: the golden chain with the massive and solid shackles.

Word of thanks:the photo of @beautifully_derelict_ni (Instagram) inspired me to write this story and I was given permission to use the photo as an illustration for which I am very grateful. Thank you Jules! X

Link: please visit the beautiful Instagram account of @beautifully_derelict_ni

Note: the story is pure fiction! A figment of my imagination!

Helen