Ten Twisted Tales From The Maelstrom

By Winslow Swan

From out of the tortured maelstrom that created "The Convincer", "Click", and "Evil Within" comes ten more twisted tales of horror and suspense. Do you have a problem? Join the Red Hat Society, a group of widows who have a chilling secret. Have you actually looked at the homeless? Perhaps there is so much more to see. Need a special job completed? Your satisfaction is always guaranteed. Ten short stories from the stormy imagination of Winslow Swan. Sleep well.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Winslow Swan
• Release date: Jun 27, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463914670

Winslow Swan

Born and raised in Atlanta, Ga, I grew up surrounded by mystery and suspense, in book form. I also grew up listening not only to the great old radio horror shows but also heard the original run of the CBS Radio Mystery Theater. I contribute them for my imagination of horror and suspense. My favorite authors at the time were of course Stephen King, Dean Koontz, and Edgar Allen Poe. I now live in the North Georgia mountains where I am currently producing (with my best friend Crimson McKenzie) writing, directing, and appearing in a full cast audio series of horror, mystery, and suspense (with a few laughs along the way) titled "Doorway To Nightmare" on YouTube. (Check the channel out. 43 episodes with many more to come) Writing can, at times, become arduous and trying to find the quiet time to actually get my thoughts and stories down can sometimes be quite straining. However, I continue to do what I can to trouble the dreams of the reader.I find myself to be one of the few who have fulfilled all of their dreams. I have worked in both radio and television, as an actor and a writer, and have also appeared on stage. I have made two films (which shall both never see the light of day) and am now concentrating on a writing as a career.

Book preview

Ten Twisted Tales From The Maelstrom

By

Winslow Swan

Published by Winslow Swan

Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2020 by Winslow Swan

Other Works by this Author

The Convincer

Click (a tale of revenge)

Toppling Over The Edge

The Suicide Killers: The First Jake Rhodes Mystery

More Stories To Read To The Thing Under The Bed

Feather Brained

Creepy Short Stories To Read To The Creature In The Closet

The Hitchcock Killer: The Second Jake Rhodes Mystery

Do Not Read This Book

No One Is Afraid Of Monsters Anymore (and other stories to read to the Thing under the bed) Audio book Edition

Evil Within

Horror Stories To Read To The Beast In The Basement

The Haunted House Killer: The Third Jake Rhodes Mystery

Smashwords Edition License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author

All characters, places, and firms depicted are fictitious. Any similarity to persons, places, or firms is purely coincidental.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

SATISFACTION GUARANTEED

THE GHOST WHO CRIED WOLF

A POSSIBLE PAST FUTURE

PUPPY

IN THROUGH THE OUT DOOR

A SIMPLE QUESTION

THE MEEK SHALL INHERIT

SUICIDAL TENDENCIES

THE RED HAT SOCIETY

IT FINALLY HAPPENED

A WORD FROM THE AUTHOR

Mael-strom: noun 1. A powerful whirlpool in the sea or a river. 2. A situation or state of confused movement or violent turmoil.

Welcome, dear reader, to the inside of my mind, a constant maelstrom of confusion and, as the definition suggests, violent turmoil. It is a place that I live in on a day to day basis along with the many characters who have been created in my novels and short stories. It is also a place where other voices are screaming to be let out amongst the readers of the world to spread their own terror and horror.

I have written several collections of short stories that have all evolved from my own tortured mind. I believe that the short story is more of an art form that gives the reader a chance to experience something remarkable in a small length of time. Within a few moments, there is a beginning, a middle, and an end.

With all of this being said, I invite you, if you dare, to enter into that cataclysmic area that swirls around somewhere inside of my furtive mind. I must warn you that it can be a very dark place, sometimes making you laugh for no reason, and other times giving you that unfortunate unease.

I do hope that you enjoy these, as they should be read sporadically. Take a small step into the darker side of my mind carefully. Read one story a week, putting the book away for awhile until one day your own mind begins to crave another dip into the pool of borderline insanity.

I would like to take this opportunity to dedicate this particular collection to someone who not only helps me immensely but has also become a very close and dear friend. Her own insights into my maelstrom has given me pause to know that it can be a friend of its own. She has been someone who actually believes in what I do and I can never thank her enough for her strong will and the many suggestions that have made me better as a writer and a person.

Thank you, Crimson McKenzie.

Now, set your course down the river that leads to nowhere. Batten down the hatches and prepare to delve into the maelstrom and be aware that there may be a few forks in the river.

Sleep well.

****

Satisfaction Guaranteed

Andrew Morehouse was your all around average guy who tried his best to be nice to everyone. He always thought that good things would come to him if he was simply helpful. He always wore a bright and ambient smile, a cheerful disposition, and a ready helping hand.

Andy was six feet with a very slim physique, six months shy of his 40th birthday, and always wore his hair in a ponytail. The long mane of thick black hair was, as many had put it, his best feature.

Andy was usually walked on by everyone.

People take advantage of you, his best friend, Tom, told him one day.

Yes, Andy replied, but only once.

While he was not a pauper by any means, he would often find odd jobs to do for people to supplement what income he did make. This usually entailed clearing gutters, chopping wood, or painting which he was never an expert in.

Show me a wall, pick the color that you think would be suitable, and I will slap it on, satisfaction guaranteed, he would tell people.

He would also tell these same people to simply pay him what they thought the job was worth.

You could have made at least a grand on that, Tom would say after Andy would describe one of the jobs. The guy really only paid you fifty bucks?

That’s what he thought it was worth, Andy said dejectedly. Of course, if he calls me again, I won’t work for him.

Tom thought that it was a pretty good strategy but hated seeing his friend overworked for a pittance.

Things really changed when Kyle Wheaton called on Andy one day.

My wife is vacationing in Paris and I want to have her bedroom repainted, Kyle said to Andy. She wants something that will match her hair and I told her that I would take care of it.

What color is her hair? Andy asked.

A brilliant copper red, Kyle answered with pride.

Kyle Wheaton was in his seventies who had married his wife, Melissa, when she was just turning 30. Around the town the talk had been that she had simply been a trophy wife, a beautiful woman to hang onto the arm of a very rich industrialist.

He would adorn her in the most lavish of dresses and jewels. He sent her on vacations at least once a month and her expensive tastes were always satiated by the billionaire.

Well sir, Andy had told him, you will have to buy the paint and I will do the job for you.

Oh no, Kyle had said, I leave all such matters up to the ones that I employ. You do the job and I will pay you handsomely.

Andy had heard that before but made no comment.

Kyle invited Andy to the estate the following day and Andy had seen the rather large bedroom. It would take Andy at least two days to do the job and Kyle had seemed pleased about that.

Remember sir, Andy had said as he started to move paintings off the walls and covering furniture, your satisfaction is the most important thing. If you don’t like it, I will redo it for you.

Looking back, Andy had wished that he had never uttered those words.

My wife will not be back for at least two weeks so you have plenty of time, Kyle told him.

Andy finished the pre-work and headed for the hardware store. Looking through the collection of paints, he decided that a soft pinkish rose would go well with Melissa’s hair coloring.

Paying for the paints and the brushes out of his own pocket, he made arrangements to put the first coat on the next morning.

He had just finished the last wall when Kyle came in.

Well, what do you think? Andy asked expectantly.

Kyle looked around at the room. He nodded a few times and took in the new color. He tried to imagine his wife prancing around in her see through nightgown, her hair flowing majestically down her back as she teased him.

He smiled and handed Andy five hundred dollars.

I’m going to take a few pictures and send them to Melissa, Kyle said, taking out his phone. I’m sure that she will be most pleased. Thank you, Andrew, for your quick service.

I still have to do a second coat but that shouldn’t take too long, Andy said. I will have everything done by this afternoon.

Splendid, Kyle said, and I will take the pictures then. If I need something else done around here, I will know who to call.

The two men shook hands.

Andy finished the painting and began to replace the paintings and pictures, moving the bed back into its place and folding the tarps that he had laid down on the floor and furniture. He packed everything into his pickup truck that he only used for jobs and with a satisfied grin, he headed home.

Another job well done, he thought to himself.

You probably could have gotten more, Tom told him that evening.

Maybe, Andy agreed, but at least I made an impression.

Andy went to bed early and was in that somnambulant stage of sleep where reality meets with the dream. He was standing in the bedroom of the estate, watching Melissa dance around the newly painted room, a happy expression on her face. She was wearing yoga pants and a lace bra which accentuated her slim figure.

The phone rang rousting him out of his dream.

Hello? Andy answered yawning.

She hated it, Kyle said in a flat tone.

I’m sorry to hear that, Andy told him, rubbing the sleep from his eye.

You did say ‘satisfaction guaranteed’? Kyle asked.

Andy rolled his eyes wishing that whoever had come up with that phrase had been drawn and quartered and then hung by the neck and possibly shot.

When can you come back and fix it? Kyle asked.

Mr. Wheaton, Andy began, I do have another job to do tomorrow so…

Satisfaction guaranteed, Kyle Wheaton reminded him. I want you here to fix this mess in the morning. Stop by the hardware store and pick up the paint on your way here.

Maybe you should do that, Andy began now fully awake, or perhaps meet me there in the morning.

I have an important meeting in the morning so I will leave it all up to you, Kyle told him, his voice clipped in authority, Just remember, a brilliant copper red!

The phone went dead and Andy stared at it. He felt his fingers tighten around the receiver as if choking the life out of it.

He thought of calling Tom to vent his growing anger but saw the bedside clock.

He would shoot me if I called him at two in the morning, he said aloud.

Rolling over, he tried desperately to get a few more hours of sleep.

Hey, Andy, Sam Lewis, the owner of the hardware store greeted him the next morning. Buying more paint? You must be doing some great work if you already have another job.

Same job, Andy told him, his voice downtrodden, different color. Do you have anything that might match a brilliant copper red?

Sam rubbed his chin and pointed to a sample.

Try that one, he said, it’s the only thing that I can think of that would come close without seeing it.

Thanks Sam, Andy said and began to pull cans off the shelf.

Another day of prep work and Andy was already tired. Luckily, Kyle’s meeting had apparently lasted all day. He was able to get the work done in record time. He decided that leaving around noon was the best thing to do. He would begin putting up the new color the next morning.

Andy was lying on the sofa trying to get a nap in that