Kurt Frazier Sr.
Copyright 2016 Kurt Frazier Sr.
Shakespir Edition, License Notes
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All the best stories are but one story in reality – the story of escape. It is the only thing which interests us all and at all times, how to escape.
- A. C. Benson
And now the story begins…
Scars are an amazing thing; they leave marks of character upon the wearer. They bring stares of strangers as they wonder, what happened? Scars are really markers of past struggles in a person’s life. Some regard scars as ugly while others see beauty in them.
Samuel Fishbern was the proud owner of a number of these conversation starters. Some were small and nearly unnoticeable and only those close to him knew about those and their stories. Then there was the midsize one that stretched from his left elbow and stopped three inches from his wrist. That was nothing more than a defensive wound that told the story of the time that a crazy clown named Bongo had attacked him behind the circus tent.
The scar that drew the most attention was the red, jagged one that stretched from his left ear to his right one. The scar itself was nearly a quarter of an inch thick and it had always retained the fresh red color that had shown while it was healing. This was a self-inflicted wound that Samuel had done while he was showing off at a party. He knew that the knife had to be sharp and the course exact; one slip in the wrong direction and he would have cut a major artery. There was enough blood spewing from the minor veins to create the effect that he wanted.
They said that it was because he had been taking a variety of drugs that he had attempted to take his own life. That was not the case at all; at the time he had been enjoying life to its fullest and this was just a mere party trick. The authorities did not see the situation as he saw it, so they locked him in a mental ward under direct supervision. That had been ten years ago and now the doctors were convinced that Samuel Fishbern was capable of leading a normal life in society.
The house that he peered into had been quiet for some time and Samuel knew that the residents must have been sleeping soundly. His thoughts confirmed as he climbed through the open window and into the front room.
There was an ear splitting screeching as his left foot came down upon the back of the family cat. This should have been enough to bring to life the residents of the house. He stopped and held his breath, one, two, and three… fifteen seconds and there was not a sign that the security of the house at 1238 Oxbow Lane had been breached.
He had observed the object of his quest on the finger of the woman of the house. The ring was a rare find indeed; she had told him about it at a dinner party that he had met her at and through certain sinister means; he had found where her home was. Now they would know that all of their riches were no match for his intelligence.
Samuel had tricked the security system into thinking that everything in the house was just as it had been before he broke into the silence of the night and invaded the dwelling place of the rich and uppity.
The alabaster box sat on the mantel in the exact place that his victim said it would be. Inside the box was the object of his desire, a copper ring made of wire salvaged from some electrical wiring. That would not seem to be a great prize and it was not, not on its own. The prize was the large diamond that mounted on the base. That was what would be his salvation from the depths of poverty plaguing his miserable life.
Yes, gone were the days of fun and parties and now he had at times intended to revisit the act that gave him his eloquent tissue necklace; things changed when he saw the ring and saw that it may be better to be rich than dead. The act done, now all that remained was to make his escape through the pathway that he had chosen.
The rear entrance of the house was where Samuel was going to make his escape. Downward he crept, slowly moving forward through the dark. Somehow he had missed the fact that there was no light covering his escape route and now he was having to deal with one of his fears; the dark, he hated the dark, he despised the dark. Though he often used the dark to cover his actions, he still did not like it.
There was only one thing that overshadowed his fear of the dark and that was his fear of spiders. What was that sound that Samuel heard from behind him? It sounded like heavy breathing and something clicking on the tile in the room above him. He was petrified that someone had discovered his actions and was now in pursuit of him.
The dark surrounded him and penetrated his very soul. Samuel could not move; his very body gripped by fear and seized by intense darkness. Samuel could not summon any air from within the depths of his lungs and “so this is where I am going to die,” he thought.
Just a few feet from the place where he was standing was a door and Samuel Fishbern urged his feet forward. From somewhere within his body his feet found the strength to obey his brains command. The hand found the strength to turn the door knob and Samuel leaped forward into the awaiting portal. It wasn’t as dark in the room as it had been in the corridor due to the fact that a few of the wall boards at the top of the room were missing allowing the light of the full moon to shine into this place.
Weary but relieved Samuel sat down on the floor and listened for his pursuers. A wind blew swiftly through the room and the seasoned, wooden door blew shut. The door finished its course with the sound of it latching closed. It was immovable, with a strength given by something that Samuel did not understand.
He collapsed to the floor and examined the treasure that he held in his hand. The diamond exhibited its beauty in the moonlight, unblemished as it was and now it belonged to him and nothing would stop him from being one of the loaded people that he despised.
A slight pinch on his left forearm brought Samuel’s eyes from his newly found wealth to the area of his body that was calling for his attention. The cause of the pain was unknown, the assailant unseen due to the dimly lit room. Then there was another pinch, and another and yet another. The pain was becoming greater with each passing bite and as the moon moved into a different location casting more light into the room Samuel saw what was happening to his body.
The assailants on his body were quite small but they had arrived as a massive military force. The poison from their glands had found its way into Samuels’s bloodstream and was, at the moment, riding the blood flow to his heart and then northward to his brain.
Moments before the juice made its conquering stand in his head, two blue eyes discovered that he was to be killed by his worst fear; spiders.
Thank you for reading my book. If you enjoyed it, won’t you please take a moment to leave me a review at your favorite retailer?
Kurt Frazier Sr.
About the author
I am a father of five grown children, and a grandfather of three grandchildren; two boys and one girl. I love to write short fiction as well as some non-fiction. One day I would like to write a story collection while hovering above the Earth in a hot air balloon.
Other books that I have written
The Whistler Street Chronicles
The Son of Thun
Four Nine Zero Nine Eight
Waiting in Chicago
An interview with the author
Do you remember the first story you ever wrote?
The first story that I can remember writing was one that was called “Johnny Jelly Bean” and it was a story that was about a jelly bean that lived in Coopers Candy Store.
It was a story written for a creative writing class in the 7th grade. In this story Johnny learns about the differences between himself and the other types of candies that live in the candy store, and his father’s words of not thinking himself better than the others because of who and what he is rings true for all ages today.
This story is in my first book; “Four Nine Zero Nine Eight.”
Connect with me
Email: Please send any comment that you have about the story. I would love to hear what you thought.
For many people escaping the world that they live in is not on the fore-front of their mind. However, Samuel Fishbern had escaped many things, and the dilemma that he will soon find himself in will take all the cunning and skill that he can muster to escape from. Sam had succsessfully escaped a killer clown named B'Zongo without great harm coming to his body. In his childhood he had escaped a brutal home life. He had even managed to escape his own foolish pride without killing himself. On this particular occasion he will face opposition that could very well lead to his demise. Will the struggles that this petty thief encounters be worth the reward that he is expecting to recieve, or will he discover that as it had been in his past, so will the outcome be in the future? Loss of dignity, pride and financial gain are often the result of even the most well planned heist.