Foundations: A Short Story Collection

By Dale Parnell

Showcasing a range of thrillers, horror and contemporary fantasy, Foundations brings together eleven previously published short stories, along with a brand new exclusive tale.

Delve into the minds of serial killers, confront vengeful ghosts, and face the very best and worst that humanity can offer.

Foundations is the third collection of short stories by Dale Parnell.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dale Parnell
• Release date: Apr 23, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215042380

Dale Parnell

Dale Parnell was born and raised in Norwich and now lives in Staffordshire with his wife and their imaginery dog, Moriarty. Dale has been writing, in various forms, for most of his adult life and finds short stories the most enjoyable. His first collection, "The Green Cathedral" includes some of his oldest works along with more recent pieces.Following on from his acceptance in two charity poetry anthologies, Dale published his first collection of poetry, "If I Were Not Me" in February 2019. He has been reading his poems at a few local open mic events and festivals and enjoys being a part of the local poetry community.Dale released his second collection of short stories, "Bramble and Other Stories" in 2019, this time exploring science-fiction and horror as well as contemporary fantasy.

Book preview

Foundations

Copyright © Dale Parnell 2022.

Smashwords edition.

All characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, is a coincidence.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any way without prior permission of the author.

Balloon was first published by Burdizzo Books in Corona-nation St

The Friends You Make on Holiday was first published by Caab Publishing in Born in a Black Cab

K is for Karaoke was first published by D&T Publishing in ABC’s of Terror Volume 3

The Trading Hut was first published by Enthusiastic Press in Unheard Of

A Life Deserved was first published by Monnath Books in Tabula Rasa

Dear Valued Customer was first published by Monnath Books in Through Death’s Door

Sink Hole was first published by Red Cape Publishing in Elements of Horror: Earth

One Last Breath was first published by Red Cape Publishing in Elements of Horror: Air

The Forbidden Banquet was first published by Red Cape Publishing in A–Z of Horror: C is for Cannibals

A Dark Heart Wishes was first published by Red Cape Publishing in A–Z of Horror: G is for Genies

The Linchpin was originally published in the e-book collection brief showers

For my wife, Thelma

With love, forever

Contents

Balloon

The Friends You Make on Holiday

K is for Karaoke

The Trading Hut

A Life Deserved

Dear Valued Customer

Sink Hole

One Last Breath

The Forbidden Banquet

A Dark Heart Wishes

A Flash of Red

The Linchpin

Balloon

There’s a balloon in the garden.

What?

There’s a bright yellow balloon, repeated Ellie, stuck in our tree.

So? replied Curtis, barely looking up from the television.

I think there’s a note tied to it, Ellie said, ducking and weaving at the window, trying to get a better view of the tree at the end of their garden.

What kind of note? asked Curtis.

How the hell am I supposed to know, replied Ellie testily, I can’t read it from here, can I.

Curtis paused the television and got up with a grumble to join Ellie at the French doors overlooking their modest back garden. The sky had a cold, flint-blue look that suggested it could rain at any moment. Curtis shivered, but admitted that yes, there was a yellow balloon stuck in the tree at the bottom of the garden.

It’s probably some kind of marketing campaign, he said, before turning back to the sofa and television.

You what? asked Ellie, still trying to get a better look at the balloon and the note attached to it with white string.

Oh, you know. It’ll be a coupon for three quid off a pizza or something, replied Curtis, clicking play on the television remote.

Ellie turned away from the window to look at Curtis.

Don’t be stupid! All the take-away places have been closed for weeks now.

Well maybe it was done before they closed, I don’t know do I?

So why did you say it? asked Ellie, her arms folded against her chest.

I don’t know Ellie, it’s something to say isn’t it! replied Curtis angrily. You pissing started it!

Alright, alright! said Ellie. She took a final look at the balloon, and then padded across the room to slump down onto the sofa next to Curtis. They watched the television in silence for a few minutes, the canned laughter playing over yet another repeated sit-com doing nothing to dispel the tension in the room.

I just thought it was interesting, that’s all, you know; who would send a message out on a balloon?

Oh for f… began Curtis, snatching the remote and pausing the television again. Fine! You find the thing so bloody fascinating; I’ll go and get it shall I?

I didn’t say that, did I? replied Ellie defensively.

No, no. Muggins here will just get all kitted out so he can go fetch a poxy balloon out of our tree! Curtis stood up and left the living room, stomping through the kitchen to the conservatory.

Curtis, don’t be stupid! Ellie shouted after him. Curtis?

Ellie heard him pull his suit on, the all-too familiar sound of the zip going up the front, and then the conservatory door being unlocked.

Curtis! Ellie shouted, leaping up from the sofa and running to the French doors just in time to see Curtis stepping through the makeshift airlock and exit into the garden. Her heart hammered in her chest and she watched Curtis amble down the length of the garden, the bulky yellow plastic of the hazmat suit glistening in the low winter sunshine. Curtis reached the tree, a reasonably tall Beech, and after scrabbling around for a while and struggling with the visor on the suits hood, he managed to snag the note that dangled from the balloon string. He turned back to the house, waving the note above his head, and Ellie watched as the balloon lifted up and away from the branches, catching the wind and disappearing from view. Curtis was making his way back to the house, and Ellie hurried through the house to the conservatory. She stood watching Curtis through the large window, her face set like stone. Curtis stepped back into the airlock and began the laborious process of scrubbing his suit down. There was a bucket of water and a bottle of bleach that they kept in the airlock, along with a variety of brushes. Eventually, once he was done, Curtis stepped into the conservatory and climbed out of the suit, hanging it up to drip dry. The strong smell of bleach smacked into Ellie’s nostrils, causing her eyes to water a little, and so she retreated into the kitchen. Curtis followed her and closed the door behind him.

Well that was stupid! shouted Ellie.

You’re welcome, growled Curtis, slamming the note down on the kitchen table before going to the fridge and removing a bottle of beer. He clicked the lid off and sank half of the bottle in one gulp.

It’s a bit early for that, isn’t it? said Ellie sternly.

Fuck off, Ellie, replied Curtis, raising the bottle to his lips. The look of shock on Ellie’s face only lasted a moment, but as it changed to genuine hurt, Curtis started to feel bad.

I’m sorry Ellie, he said sheepishly, putting the bottle down on the kitchen counter and moving over to hug her. I haven’t been outside for a while, it kind of freaked me out.

Ellie put her arms around him and gave him a squeeze.

I don’t know what possessed you to do it, bloody idiot! she replied softly.

Me either, Curtis replied with a shrug. Four months of quarantine, I guess I just went a bit stir-crazy!

Ellie reached up and stroked his cheek. He hadn’t shaved for a few days now, and the stubble was coming through thick. She wanted to say something, but bit her lip. Now wasn’t the time.

Curtis kissed her hand, and then moved to pick up his bottle of beer. Are you going to read it then? he asked.

I suppose I better had after all that, replied Ellie. She picked the note up tentatively. The virus couldn’t survive on paper, but she still didn’t like handling things that had been outside. It was more like thick card, folded over twice, with a hole in the top where the string must have been threaded through, and it had torn where Curtis had pulled it loose. Ellie unfolded the card, bending it back on itself to open it fully. She stared at it a moment, and then turned the card over, checking the back, then turning it back again.

So, come on then, is it a pizza coupon or what? asked Curtis, who was stood at the open fridge, retrieving a second bottle of beer.

No, it’s… I don’t know, replied Ellie, her voice shaking slightly. She held the note out for Curtis, and he took it from her -

He doesn’t love you.

Curtis stared at the note for a moment, and then checked the reverse of the card himself. There was nothing else, just those four words, typed in the very middle of the page.

Well, that’s weird, said Curtis eventually, laying the note back down on the kitchen table.

Weird? Is that it? asked Ellie, snatching the card up and studying it again. It’s creepy is what it is!

It’s just someone’s idea of a prank, replied Curtis, taking his beer back through to the living room and the television, Ellie trailing along behind him.

It’s not a prank, Curtis, it’s sick! said Ellie.

Okay, so it’s sick. People are sick, I’ve said this before.

Yeah, but why do something like this now, with everything that’s going on? Ellie asked.

Because that’s how they get their kicks, Curtis replied, setting his feet up on the coffee table. They get off on it.

What, putting balloons in people’s trees with notes tied to them?

I don’t think they put it there, it was just, you know, the wind and that, Curtis said, his attention half on Ellie and half on the television. Now why don’t you just put it in the bin and come here, he said, patting the empty seat on the sofa.

But shouldn’t we call someone? Ellie asked.

Call someone? Who are we supposed to call?

I don’t know, the police or someone?

Curtis burst out laughing, spilling beer down the front of his t-shirt. I think the police have enough to do at the moment, what with the looting and the curfews, don’t you?

Yeah, but this is wrong, said Ellie, looking hurt again.

Curtis stood up from the sofa, and taking the note out of her hands, he wrapped her up in a bear hug. I know it is, honey. But the best thing to do is just ignore it.

With that, Curtis ripped the note in half and dropped the pieces into the small wicker bin that sat beside the sofa. Now, come on, he said, returning to the sofa.

Ellie cast a look back to the French doors, but she couldn’t see the end of the garden or the Beech tree from where she was stood. She briefly considered going over to check, but decided against it, and instead fell down onto the sofa, tucking her feet up underneath her legs, and settled down to watch a programme she was fairly certain they had watched less than a week ago.

It was a few days before Ellie thought of the note again. She and Curtis had settled back into their routine, not that it consisted of a whole lot. Curtis would get up early to check his work emails, of which he said there were fewer and fewer every day. He’d work on a few designs until about lunch time, and then generally he’d stop for the day. They had both promised that they wouldn’t drink too much whilst the lockdown was in effect, but Curtis had slipped after the first couple of weeks and would usually start early afternoon, sometimes having a beer with his lunch, and then carry on for the majority of the day. Ellie could usually hold out until dinner time, but she still found she was getting through a whole bottle of wine every other day. Their weekly food delivery bill was rocketing, and they had already argued several times about cutting back. Ellie wanted to try and be careful, in case the lockdown was extended yet again and the design work dried up, but Curtis kept saying that they were fine. Ellie was worried that they had both gotten too used to having their combined incomes to live on, but since the lockdown began Ellie’s café had been closed. Every time she tried to raise the subject with Curtis, he would either avoid talking about it, or snap at her that he could support them. Ellie knew that he was worried, that it was the stress of the situation that made him irritable, but she just wished he would talk to her about it.

Ellie had gone to bed early to read, leaving Curtis downstairs watching television. He went up just after twelve to find Ellie sat up in bed, staring at the far wall.

You okay? he asked as he undressed.

I was thinking about who that note was for, she replied.

What note?

Ellie turned in disbelief. The note tied to the balloon! Honestly, your memory is crap!

Oh that, replied Curtis, pulling his t-shirt up over his head. It wasn’t for anyone, it was just a, you know, stupid joke.