The. Final. Chapter. of Nathan Weaver‘s series of The Rolling Stone & Wicked Annabelle. As requested by Nathan, I placed a song via YouTube at the bottom of the post. I would suggest turning it on where you see the red asterisk. It compliments the story very well.
Once you finish, please feel free to leave a comment for Nathan.
He found Dr. Hook in bed, sleeping with two hookers. He dragged him out of bed without any explanation, down the hall, down the marble staircase, and into the dining room. He picked him up and sat him in a chair, and tied him down with some rope he had found on the floor in Wicked Annabelle’s room. With Dr. Hook tied down, he pushed the dining table and the rest of the chairs up against a wall. He then slid the chair across the hardwood floor to the center of the room.
He grabbed one chair and sat down in front of Dr. Hook.
“I thought you were dead, Eddie.”
“I’m getting a lot of that lately.” He placed a can of gas next to his chair.
“That’s my gas can.”
“What do you want, Eddie?”
They sat there silently, and then footfalls came down the stairs and the two hookers ran by the dining room and out the front door. One of the girls had his wallet, and the other was slipping her high-heels onto her feet as they moved.
Dr. Hook shouted at them. “Don’t you take that wallet! You don’t wanna mess with me! HEY!”
The door shut.
He looked at The Rolling Stone. “Do you mind? I need to get my wallet back.”
He punched Dr. Hook, and his head bounced back after hitting the back of the chair. He moaned and spit blood onto The Rolling Stone’s foot.
“I hate spit.”
Dr. Hook was getting mad. He paid good money for security, where was everybody? “Well, Eddie, it’s not like I had much options on where to spit.”
“Sucks being tied down, doesn’t it?”
“Yeah, a little bit. So why don’t you cut me loose and let’s talk this out like civilized gentlemen.”
The Rolling Stone grabbed him by the collar of his pajamas, and pulled him forward onto two legs of the chair. They were face to face. “Funny how that works. I’ll show you the same kindness you showed me. You left me for dead, I’ll leave you for dead. Sounds fair.” He dropped him back onto all four legs. “Actually, it sounds more than fair. It sounds generous. You killed my son, and took my wife too. Come to think of it… I’m being more than fair. Call me gracious, I guess. You gotta match, or what?”
Dr. Hook hung his head. “The drawer left of the sink in the kitchen.”
The Rolling Stone entered the kitchen, and opened the right drawer by mistake. It had towels. He went to the left drawer and opened it. He had about one second to see the danger, but the gun went off and sent a bullet through his left cheek and out the back of his head.
Dr. Hook was sitting and smiling. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever get to use that booby-trap, but he put it in anyway. His lawyer had mocked him about it, but he stood firm by it. If anyone asked him for something, all he had to do was direct them to the drawer. That little expense had finally paid off. Now he had to just wait for someone to find him, which would take several hours at the most. He was very proud of himself.
Until he heard laughter coming from the kitchen.
He tried to look over his shoulder, but all he saw on the corner of his eye was a shadowy figure coming from the kitchen. He scooted himself around in the chair to face the shadow. And he nearly swallowed his Adam’s apple as he watched The Rolling Stone step out of the kitchen. He was shaking his head in disbelief, and laughing.
“How did you–” He couldn’t even finish the question.
The Rolling Stone walked back to his chair, pulled it back around to face Dr. Hook and sat down. He rubbed his head, as if he had a migraine. “I’m gonna be feeling that one for a while.”
Dr. Hook watched in horror as he watched the entrance wound slowly heal up and close. Then he smiled. “How can you do that?”
The Rolling Stone sniffled. “I’d ask you where the Advil is, but I’d be afraid of a grenade.”
“Eddie, listen to me! Can you die?”
“On any number of things.”
Dr. Hook’s eyes were shifting all over in his head, as he grasped it all. “How can you do this? I want it, I’ll pay you. Name your price.”
The Rolling Stone rolled his eyes. “This sounds familiar.” He stood up and started pouring the gasoline over him.
“Wait! Wait! I can give you anything. Anything you want. Just name it! Eddie!”
He emptied the gas can and tossed it across the room. “I asked you for a match, nicely, and you had to be dirty. So I guess we’ll just have to do this like cavemen.”
He walked away from Dr. Hook and left the room.
“Wait, Eddie! EDDIE!” He heard the front door open. “EDDIE! EDDIE! NAME THE PRICE.” The door shut. “Eddie! Come on, good man, don’t be a snob! Tell me!”
The Rolling Stone came back into the dining room. He had two rocks, one in each hand. He smiled at Dr. Hook, and started slowly dancing towards him, making music as he did by scraping the rocks together. Dr. Hook started pushing with his feet, trying to move as far away from him as possible. The sparks began to fly from the rocks, and The Rolling Stone started to sing.
“The grocery store’s the super mart, uh huh. Little girls still break their hearts, uh huh. And men still keep on marching off to war. Electrically they keep a baseball score. And the beat goes on. The beat goes on. The drums keep pounding a rhythm to the brain. La de da de de, la de da de da.”
“In most places, bad things come in threes…In Babylon they come in sevens.”
Bio: Nathan Weaver is a senior video production specialist, filmmaker, writer, and lyricist. He primarily writes crime, mystery and science fiction, but he often dabbles into other genres if there is a good story there to be had. You can read short stories and excerpts athttp://talesfrombabylon.com. You can download his novella Rose’s Thorn on Smashwords and the anthology Everything from Amazon, in which he contributed two short stories; both of these eBooks are $0.99. You can also purchase the collaborative crime novella FATAL FLAWS in paperback on Lulu, which he organized and wrote many of the chapters himself.
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