Nightmare Pie

By Edgerton R Nicholson

Welcome to Nightmare Pie! We offer a variety of tastes to meet your reading pleasure. Which slice would you like? Here is our menu for the day... Perhaps think twice before hiring a psychic, it may be a dangerous thing indeed... What happens when two low life punks torturing cats and dogs run into a kind elderly couple ...A funeral home running out of money cannot be a good thing ... In a future controlled by Artificial Intelligence and robots, a human from a famous family makes his last stand... A teenage date goes terribly awry with disastrous consequences... Can an apparition save a businessman from himself? A man’s delusions and worry start a slow descent into despair and oblivion...Two different parties set out to find Bigfoot with very different results... A little red sports car channels terrible visions to its new owner and what she must do... For a young couple travelling in Japan a Tokyo sushi dinner changes their lives forever...

• Language: English
• Publisher: Edgerton R Nicholson
• Release date: May 12, 2017
• ISBN: 9781773025537

Book preview

Preface

For Mom and Dad, my wife Carole, my daughter Chelsea and my son Ryan, and my grandkids Taylor, Presley and Lucky. Thanks for putting up with me and letting me do the things I have to do.

Acknowledgements

Thanks to the folks at Tellwell Publishing including Tim Lindsay, Scott Lunn, and my project managers Raeanne Pearce and Natasha Miller and designer Liviu Peicu without whose expertise and gracious help my stories would no doubt still be buried in the depths of my ancient computers. Thanks to all my friends and business colleagues who have watched me take on all kinds of life changing projects and just shook their heads knowing I would get through it all somehow and someway. Nobody tried to talk me out of anything. Thanks to world famous photographer and friend Onnig Cavoukian for his expertise in the front and back book covers. And thanks to the Man Above, he just keeps taking care of my family and me.

Prologue

Nightfall brings darkness, demons, and doubts and I am saved only by the early morning light.

Mr. Nocebo Points the Bone

Chapter 1

The advertisement first appeared in the Vancouver Sun on Thursday, August 11, in the classified personal section under the Mediums and Psychics Header:

Traditional African Psychic

You Have a Problem in Personal or Professional Life?

You require Assistance in a Difficult Situation?

Mr. Nocebo will Suggest and Resolve.

Specialist in Removing any kind of Powerful Negative Energy.

Permanently.

[e-mail]

Charlie Floyd scanned the ad, perused the other personals, the lovelorn, the money seekers, the shylocks and scammers. His bleary eyes returned to the African Psychic’s words and he carefully scrutinized each line.

"You have a Problem in Personal or Professional Life?"

Yeah, I sure do, he thought to himself.

"You require assistance in a difficult situation?"

Damn right, I do, he swore out loud.

"Mr. Nocebo will suggest and resolve."

That’s good, what I’m doing now sure as hell isn’t working, he cursed again. Charlie read aloud the remaining words with increasing tenor and pitch.

OK you sonofabitch, we’re gonna remove your powerful negative energy. Permanently. You’re done! he screamed.

He ripped the ad from the newspaper, went to his desk and opened his beaten, barely working ancient laptop and waited impatiently for it to spool up. Finally his Gmail page appeared. He quickly entered the psychic’s email address and began typing. "Hello, I need your help with a problem. Please contact me at your earliest convenience."

His index finger hovered over the keyboard. After a minute’s hesitation he tapped the send key and closed the laptop. He pushed away from his battered wooden desk and flopped onto his single bed. Staring at the peeling paint and years of water stains on the ceiling in his gloomy one room apartment Charlie wondered if he would have a reply in his inbox next morning. He hoped Mr. Nocebo would be ready, willing and able to remove the vexation that was crippling him, devouring him, pushing him further into the dark deep hole of insanity.

He grabbed his IPod and jammed in his ear buds, dialling up the Doors famous song, "Riders on the Storm". The music took him away from his dreary existence, the empty days, the hollowness. Soon he began to doze. The last thing he saw were the dark water stains on the gray ceiling, roiling like black clouds in concert with the thunder in the Doors song which repeated over and over. All night long his brain was squirming like a toad, same as the killer on the road.

Chapter 2

Charlie Floyd was a 35 year old lost soul, thin and gaunt. Once a confident handsome businessman he could have stepped off the cover of GQ. Now he was a shadow of his former self. He’d lost everything in the great recession and financial meltdown. A successful developer, builder and contractor, he had the world by the tail after the millennium with multiple projects underway. He’d built his small construction business into a successful fully integrated development company. CF Holdings had just installed the services in the ground for a high end residential project, a 200 lot subdivision overlooking the Strait of Juan de Fuca.

It is said timing is everything and almost to the day of releasing the lots onto the market the global economy began imploding. In August of 2008 he was living the good life, doting on his wife, just having bought her a new white Porsche Boxster. He’d earned his lifestyle, working 18 hour days, 7 days a week. Charlie was a loyal husband and a respectable member of his suburban community employing upwards of 50 persons. He’d paid for new flood lights at the local athletic field as well as new uniforms for his neighborhood little league team. He was the envy of many but nothing lasts forever.

Five weeks later Lehman Brothers, a global financial services firm declared bankruptcy setting off a domino effect of monetary chaos throughout the world. Charlie’s company, CF Holdings Inc. was not immune to this disaster and became one of thousands of victims in a global economic calamity. His company had ten million dollars invested in the Pacific Horizon project with land and servicing costs financed to the hilt by a local bank. Two months after the Lehman Bros. collapse, the bank called his loan. Charlie had no way of paying back the bank without completing the project by the sale of the lots. He had no way to pay his employees, sub-contractors, and suppliers with his evaporating line of credit. The real estate market fell into a free fall across North America and bankruptcies skyrocketed.

While Charlie’s company went under, he was protected under limited liability laws, save for one unexplainable act. He had personally guaranteed a long term lease on a large warehouse to store his contracting machinery, equipment and building materials. The warehouse landlord had sued Charlie personally. In the end he lost everything. His home, cars, savings, everything went away. Worst of all he lost his wife. He sadly realized there was no loyalty in his marriage, no real love there. As soon as the money and lifestyle were gone, she too was gone. Along with her shiny white new Porsche Boxster.

But the warehouse landlord was not finished with Charlie. Turns out Charlie and the landlord had a history. They went to college together, played football together and dated girls together. Charlie’s wife as a matter of fact was originally the landlord’s girlfriend. When Charlie stole his girl away from him, the landlord swore he would get even and they never spoke again. Charlie’s realtor agent had done all the negotiating and paperwork on the warehouse lease. When Charlie signed the documents he unfortunately did not know his former friend was the new principal in the holding company leasing the warehouse. Even though the landlord won the lawsuit on the warehouse lease, he was not finished. He suspected Charlie had hidden assets and continued chasing him, harassing him with emails, phone calls and process servers forcing Charlie to appear in court again.

The stress of all this caused Charlie to spiral into a deep depression, He lost fifty pounds. He went for days without shaving or bathing. His parents were long dead and he was an only child, there were no brothers or sisters to help out. One of his former employees gave him a room in his basement but had to ask him to leave after a couple of weeks as Charlie’s negativity, anger and outbursts were too much for him and his family. He was forced to do the unimaginable.

Charlie, a former millionaire on paper applied for social assistance and now received less than $700.00 a month to pay for his lodging and upkeep. His home was now a single room in a boarding house in East Vancouver. Charlie had tried numerous jobs since his life went upside down. Problem was Charlie was always self-employed, always his own boss. He’d worked for a few contractors but inevitably after a few days he was telling the foreman or crew what a shitty job they were doing. And then he was fired. Most days he spent either walking up and down East Hastings or scrolling the internet in a trance-like state. He’d looked up ways and means to commit suicide. He’d looked up ways and means to kill someone. He looked up his nemesis, the warehouse owner on Google and Facebook. Somehow he had survived the recession and was thriving, growing richer at the expense of Charlie Floyd.

His enemy’s name was Maurice White.

Chapter 3

Charlie awoke the next morning after another fitful sleep. Police, ambulance, fire truck sirens all night and now at 4 A.M. the din of garbage trucks banging and clanging in the alley outside his room. The only reason he got out of bed was to check his email. He had to see if Mr. Nocebo, the African psychic had responded to his request for assistance.

He sat up and put his bare feet on the cold vinyl floor. He waited a moment for his eyes to focus in the dim light and blood to flow to his brain. He shuffled over to his laptop, popped it open and sat waiting as it sputtered to life. He was both surprised and thankful the rooming house had wifi. Judging by the other residents in the building he was probably the only one using a computer.

He clicked his inbox and there it was. A reply from Mr. Nocebo.

Good Day my Friend! I have received your inquiry and am ready to assist you. You have stated you have a problem and I am here to help you. In order to resolve your situation it is necessary that we meet in person. Please come by my humble place of business at 1864 E. Hastings Street. I will be here until 5 PM today. Today will be the start of your new problem free life! Kindest Regards, Mr. Nocebo.

Yes! Charlie yelled, pumping his fist in the air. Contact had been made with the African Psychic. He would shave, shower and head over to Mr. Nocebo’s place today. A strange feeling came over him and he actually felt the slightest ray of distant hope. Somebody was willing to help him. Help him get rid of this festering problem like the hemorrhoid that wouldn’t go away and kept coming back again and again. The hemorrhoid named Maurice White.

Chapter 4

Charlie opened up I Tunes on the computer, dialled in Led Zeppelin’s "Stairway to Heaven" and cranked up the volume. He was stoked and always listened to music on the odd occasion when he showered. He stripped off his pyjamas noting they were in desperate need of a wash and turned on the shower. The poor excuse for a shower head dribbled on him and while he usually cursed the useless thing, today he sang along with Plante and Page. He could feel the adrenaline pumping through his body and his heart beat faster. He was excited! For the first time in months, he had something to look forward to, something to actually do.

He picked out the cleanest shirt and jeans in his tiny closet, again thinking he had to get to the laundromat pretty damn soon. He slicked down his hair and took a final look in the mirror beside his door. There was life in his face today, and clean shaven he looked ten years younger. Charlie sprang out the door like a kid full of piss and vinegar and headed downtown to see Mr. Nocebo.

Chapter 5

It took 45 minutes for Charlie to reach the edge of Chinatown where Mr. Nocebo’s place of business was. A single door and small 6 x 6 ‘African Psychic’ sign directed him upstairs. Situated between a Chinese restaurant and dry goods store he skipped up the worn wooden steps to the third floor breathing in a combination of fried rice and moth balls. At the top of the stairs a dingy narrow hallway led him to a second door with another small sign ‘Welcome Friends’. He paused, knocked and gingerly opened the door.

Charlie didn’t know what to expect, but what he saw did surprise him. He thought he would enter an office with all sorts of African statues, trinkets, colourful art and sculptures, but instead the room was bare except for a small desk, laptop and a straight backed wooden chair. A black man sat behind the desk and behind him on the wall was a small framed picture of another black man. The man looked up at Charlie with a wide grin.

Welcome, welcome my friend, you might be Mr. Charlie? he blurted as he stood up and offered his hand. He was rather short, shorter than Charlie, stooped over, with a shock of snow white hair and a wrinkled prune face. He wore thick heavy rimmed black glasses and appeared to be a very senior citizen.

Right, that’s right, Charlie, Charlie Floyd, stammered Charlie.

Good, good young man, I was expecting you today, and you have come to me for help, said the black man with a huge smile and sing song lilt. I am Mr. Nocebo, now sit down and tell me your problem.

Chapter 6

Charlie didn’t know where to start. He didn’t know how much information he should give to this strange old man sitting before him. Why the hell did he even come here? Did he actually think that a supposed African voodoo magic man could get his nemesis off his back? It just proved how crazy Charlie had become, how self-delusional he was. He leaned forward on the uncomfortable hard wooden chair, wringing his hands, looking down at the floor. He was so embarrassed he couldn’t look Mr. Nocebo in the eye. Finally Mr. Nocebo broke the silence.

My friend I see that you are struggling right now. You must lift your burden by speaking to me. Speak your voice. I cannot solve your problem if I do not know what it is, said Mr. Nocebo, still smiling. Finally Charlie sat upright and looked Mr. Nocebo in the eye.

Ok, there’s a guy that has ruined me, put me into bankruptcy. I’ve lost everything I ever worked for, even my wife left me. I’m depressed. I’ve even thought of killing myself, Charlie spewed out his story in one long breath without stopping.

Yes, yes, good, good, my friend, you are letting the evil out of your mind, it is coming outside where I can see it and feel it. Continue my good man.

It all started three years ago with the recession. I had it good, a great business, but I went bankrupt just like a thousand other companies. I was sued by one company that I had a lease with and it turns out I was personally liable. The owner of this company and I used to be friends. He’s the one who drove the final nail into my coffin. He’s still torturing me, it’s like I’m a spider and he’s pulling my legs off one by one.

Ah hah, said Mr. Nocebo. So you need help with this individual, this man who has wronged you.

Yes, that’s right Charlie replied. He’s the one that I dream of at night. He’s the one I would like you to take care of. Charlie paused for a moment. But…I don’t have much money, I’m on welfare right now, I can barely buy food, he said. I should have asked you first how much you charge.

Mr. Charlie, that is of no concern to you right now. I assure you my fee will not be a problem. Today we must continue our discussion of this individual and what may be done to remove him from your life. Do you not agree? Mr. Nocebo’s eyes grew wider as he emphasized this last question.

OK then, Charlie meekly replied. What do you need to know?" Charlie paused and looked straight at Mr. Nocebo. He still didn’t know what his fee would be.

Chapter 7

Where is this man located, in Vancouver? Mr. Nocebo queried.

Yes, close by here, actually in White Rock, with a bunch of other rich people Charlie sarcastically replied.

And you say you were once friends with him?

That’s right. We went to high school and university together. We played on the same teams together, football and soccer. We double dated together. Actually my wife, or my former wife was his girlfriend at first, and then she started liking me better. Eventually she and Maurice broke up, I started dating her and that was it. We got married a year after I graduated from UBC. I never spoke with Maurice again, although I know he was pissed and someone told me that Maurice said he would get even with me if it was the last thing he ever did.

OK Mr. Charlie I am starting to see the picture here, speaking of which, can you provide me a photograph of Mr. Maurice White?

Well I think I might have an old picture of him when we were friends but that would be at least ten years ago.

You bring me the photo as soon as possible, or a more current photograph would be better. Can you do that?

I don’t own a car. My vehicles went away in the bankruptcy thanks to Maurice.

That is not a problem. I can lend you my car. It is not a fancy car, an old Toyota station wagon, but it goes from A to B, Mr. Nocebo chuckled. Do you have a camera?

Yes, I have an Olympus digital camera from way back. I can’t afford a smart phone.

Excellent. Now my good man, I will show you where my car is and tomorrow you come back here with a new photo of Mr. Maurice White. We will discuss exactly what we can do to remove him from your life. You must give deep thought as to how you wish this to be done and to what extent you wish it to be done. This is most important. It is very serious. Once my work begins it cannot be undone. Do you understand this? Mr. Nocebo said very seriously. He wasn’t laughing now his sing song lilt had been replaced with a somewhat forbidding voice and almost malevolent face.

Yes, yes I understand said Charlie rather meekly.

Wonderful, my good man replied Mr. Nocebo as he rose from his chair and happily shook Charlie’s hand again. Let us retrieve the batmobile and have you on your way he snickered as they exited his small office.

Charlie noted that Mr. Nocebo’s handshake was much firmer than when he came in. And he