The guys aren't mine, I just borrowed them for a spell.

 

The Dark and Stormy Story

By Peggy Bedingfield

 

 

It was a dark and stormy night.  The room was dark, lit now and then with a flash of lightning. Chet lay stretched out on the couch, arm thrown across his eyes to block the sight of light flashing. On the floor beside him was a half eaten PB & J sandwich and a book he had been reading about dead pets coming back to life.  Suddenly, the hair on his arms stood straight up and a tingling sensation flowed through him. With a yelp he jumped up from the couch and stumbled toward the truck bay where comforting light spilled from bright florescent bulbs.

 

In his haste he stumbled across the step ladder that Mike had been using to change the burnt out bulbs in the station. He made a wild grab for the ladder and was hit in the head by a small cardboard box that had the old light bulbs still in it. Chet swore under his breath about the stupidity of people leaving equipment in the path of those trying to exit a room quickly.

 

He could hear the Captain’s voice floating from his office and the occasional crinkling suggested that his superior was reading the newspaper, or else he was trying to type up a report.

 

Chet stopped his mad flight and turned around to peer behind him. Something moved in the shadows! It looked like a cat, or some other animal! He felt the hairs on his neck rising. There was something in the room! He knew the others were in the dorms playing cards; he could hear Johnny’s laughter and Roy’s disgruntled reply.

 

The shadow moved again. This time it came straight at him and flapped long leathery wings. Chet let out a scream of pure terror and ran for the dorms. He did not stop to answer any questions the others threw at him. He darted in to the latrine and jumped in to the shower stall where he slammed the door and locked it.

 

Captain Stanley entered the room with a puzzled look on his face.

 

“What the heck is going on?” he asked.

 

“We don’t know, Cap,” Mike answered for his shift mates.

 

“Chet just came flying through and locked himself in the shower stall,” Johnny said.

 

“You twits!” Hank said and left the room. “This place is a zoo and I’m the keeper!”

 

From the latrine they could hear Chet talking to himself, “I’ll never read another Stephen King book again when it’s stormy weather!”

 

“Hey, Chet! What’s wrong?” Marco called to his friend. “You act like you saw a ghost or something!”

The others snickered.

 

“Oh man, if you only knew!” Chet said as he left the latrine area. He glanced at the book he was reading then hurriedly tossed it into the trashcan.  “NEVER read a horror story on a night like this!”

 

In the kitchen area a dark shape glided from the shadows and passed through the door and into the cloudy skies. A low rumble of thunder covered the eerie sound of its wail as it fled the now empty room.  Left behind was an object that looked like a black leather belt. Stamped in red on the buckle was the figure of a cat.