Death Penalty for a Ghost in China
Copyright© 2020 by Kim Cancer
Chapter 8
八
I’d been taking the pills, stronger doses, every night. Had been avoiding dreams. But not avoiding ghosts, since I was seeing the torso again, the severed lower half of the deliveryman’s body, in his same bright orange pants. That damn torso, running around my fucking apartment.
I’d been hanging the pieces of paper with 安静 written on them around the apartment, but that was no longer keeping away the walking legs. The ghost had no respect. It accompanied the drilling sounds much of the time.
The torso had been running around my kitchen a lot, too. That’s usually where I’d spot it.
One evening, I was chopping vegetables, carrots, and accidentally sliced open the tip of a finger.
Bleeding profusely, I was running to the bathroom to grab my first-aid kit when I found that the torso was standing in the bathroom door’s threshold, blocking my entrance.
My hand a bloody mess, I screamed and cursed at the ghost, reached out to swat it away from the door.
Droplets of my blood splattered onto it, and the blood hit the torso like water landing in a skillet full of steaming hot oil, causing a ferocious pop and burst, singeing the ghost’s skin, and the torso tore off running from the doorway.
To read the complete story you need to be logged in:
Log In or
Register for a Free account
(Why register?)
* Allows you 3 stories to read in 24 hours.