mirror of https://github.com/nealey/Horrors2
148 lines
3.1 KiB
TeX
148 lines
3.1 KiB
TeX
\chapauth{Livestock}
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\chapter[Destiny Calls]{Destiny Calls: A Luke Bavarius Mystery}
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Luke Bavarius was on edge. For months he'd been receiving
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terrifying phone calls from a mad man. The telephone would ring,
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Bavarius would pick up, and that horrible voice would speak.
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``You're dead, Luke Bavarius. {\em Deeaaaadddd{\ldots}}''
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``Who is this?'' Luke would respond. ``I'll get you! I'm a cop, you
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idiot!''
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``It doesn't matter, Luke. The law cannot stop me.''
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Luke wondered what the calls meant. They happened every night at
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midnight. Luke knew that midnight held special significance to
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satanic cults and the criminal element. In his work as a gritty New
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York City detective he had made many enemies. He could scarcely
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keep track of all the men he put behind bars, let alone which ones
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still harbored a grudge.
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Luke could barely sleep. In his dreams he was chased by shadows.
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Glimpses of dark alleyways and shattered mirrors haunted his
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slumber. Luke was near his breaking point. What did it all
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mean?
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{\em Ring!} The telephone rang. It was midnight again. Heavy beads
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of sweat started oozing from Luke's forehead like anchors dropping
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from ships at port.
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``Who is it?'' Luke answered angrily.
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``Now, now, Luke. Don't be so angry. It's just your old
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friend.''
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``You're no friend.''
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``And you're dead, Luke Bavarius. {\em Deeaaaadddd{\ldots}}''
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Luke slammed the phone down. His heart was racing like Big Brown in
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the Kentucky Derby: fast and determined. Luke took a swig from his
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flask. He knew he had to do something. How long could this go on?
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Not much longer, Luke thought.
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It was time to involve his friends at the station. Luke called in a
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favor from Jim Centauri, an expert at tracing phone calls. Jim
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hooked his equipment up to Luke's phones, and the two waited until
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midnight. Nothing happened.
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``Damnit!'' Luke yelled. ``He calls every night. {\em Every
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night!}
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''It's probably just a prankster, Luke. Don't let it get you down.
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Anyway, maybe he got tired of calling you.``
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Jim packed up his equipment and headed home. Luke thanked him, but
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felt disappointed he had no answers. Then it happened. The thing
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Luke was least prepared for.
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{\em Ring!}
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''Not again!`` Luke yelled, staring at the ringing telephone. He
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debated answering, or letting it sing its horrible, shrill song.
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Finally, Luke could wait no more. He reached his left hand out and
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clutched the phone, squeezing so tight it would die if it were
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alive.
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''Nice try, Luke. But you'll have to figure out who I am on your
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own.``
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''Who are you?`` Luke demanded, his voice surging with anger.
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''Don't you know, Luke. Don't you know who I am?``
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''It's only a matter of time before I find out.``
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''Sooner than that, Luke. Don't you recognize my voice?``
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Suddenly a horrible realization came over Luke. ''No. No! No!!!`` he
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cried out. He looked to his right, and he was holding a second
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telephone.
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''All this time, Luke. It was you. It was me. It was
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{\em us}!"
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Luke heard a click. He looked to his left. The telephone in his
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left hand was gone. Now it was a cocked Beretta pointed at his
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skull. Suddenly he gulped. {\em Click.}
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