Death Spoon

By Bob Oedy

In a thrilling and captivating tale, "Death Spoon" transports readers to an America held captive by two powerful cults. Our protagonist, an ordinary man, finds himself thrust into the center of their dangerous conflict when he unwittingly comes into possession of a mysterious artifact. As the cults' desire for this relic intensifies, the lives of the man, his wife, and their child hang in the balance.

"Death Spoon" is a mesmerizing blend of suspense, mystery, and emotion, as it skillfully weaves an intricate plot that keeps readers on the edge of their seats. The story's unique atmosphere, where "everything is just a little . . . off," captivates the reader and leaves them yearning for more. Seamlessly blending fast-paced action with heartwarming moments, this gripping work of fiction is sure to delight fans of the genre.

Don't miss out on this exhilarating and unforgettable read – dive into the enthralling world of "Death Spoon" and join our hero as he navigates the dangerous path between two powerful forces in order to protect those he loves.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jul 13, 2023
• ISBN: 9798350900439

Book preview

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Praise for Death Spoon

In Bob Oedy’s debut novel, he has created a dynamic piece of prose. The plot is simple, although complicated by the machinations of the characters as they try to deceive and outmaneuver each other. Oedy sketches an amusing series of characters who leap off the page with vivid and incisive dialogue. The author is very effective at changing perspective and producing convincing internal voices for the assortment of characters, but the reader has to pay attention to follow the action and the dialogue.

— Michael Essington, author of Heaven Nor Hell

In a thrilling and captivating tale, Death Spoon transports readers to an America held captive by two powerful cults. Death Spoon is a mesmerizing blend of suspense, mystery, and emotion, as it skillfully weaves an intricate plot that keeps readers on the edge of their seats. The story’s unique atmosphere, where everything is just a little . . . off," captivates the reader and leaves them yearning for more. Seamlessly blending fast-paced action with heartwarming moments, this gripping work of fiction is sure to delight fans of the genre.

Don’t miss out on this exhilarating and unforgettable read – dive into the enthralling world of Death Spoon and join our hero as he navigates the dangerous path between two powerful forces in order to protect those he loves."

— Book Baby

© 2023 Robert Randolph Oedy

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, contact the publisher at [e-mail]

Published by Death Spoon LLC

Winnetka, CA 91306 USA

www.deathspoon.com

Print ISBN: 979-8-35090-042-2

eBook ISBN: 979-8-35090-043-9

Printed in the United States of America on SFI Certified paper.

First Edition

Disclaimer

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual cults, religions, businesses, streets, events or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. This book is designed to entertain. Joining a cult involves risk. The publisher and author are not responsible for any damage caused or alleged to be caused either directly or indirectly by the information contained herein. If you decide you cannot agree with this statement, please return the book to the publisher for a full refund.

Table of Contents

Acknowledgements

1—Never Trust a Junkie

2—An Invitation to Join

3—Love Bombed

4—Shunned

5—Devil’s Root

6—Initiated by Fire

7—Phone Call from a Friend

8—Blood in Blood out

9—Lying in Wait

10—The Crimson Chord

11—Left to Die

12—Darkness Awaits

13—Burnt Offering

14—State of Possession

15—The Tribulation

16—Transcendence

17—The Passageway

18—The Arrival

19—Abandonment

20—The Gauntlet

21—Nuclear Family

22—No Place to Hide

23—Child’s Play

24—Fatal Decision

25—Beyond the Iron Gate

26—A Recipe for Disaster

27—Marked for Death

28—Like Kind Exchange

29—Primeval Waters

About the Author

To my wife Leslie Marina Oedy, for believing in me.

Acknowledgements

Thank you to my wife Leslie for enthusiastically reading early drafts. For my kids Wendsday, Zero, Dylan, Nick, Max and grandkids Storm and Snow, who inspire me to do my best. To fellow author Michael Essington for his keen eye. To Peter Fein, Tony Romo, Cyndi and David Klane and my friends at Book Baby. To Sean Conniff at Atomic Café for logo designs. To my family, supporters, readers and followers I wish to convey my deepest appreciation. God Bless.

1

Never Trust a Junkie

Now came Meredith’s turn to complete the death pact. With Craig out of the way and the spoon in police custody, that would have to wait. Could a spoon cause that much torment? The police and coroner had their questions, but in the end, Craig Weston was an overweight drug addict with a history of suicidal thoughts. Never mind his penchant for the occult, his obsession with serial killers, and his live-in girlfriend who dabbles in the occult: tarot cards, rolling bones, and palm reading. All the activity and commotion of the night before were now just a bad dream.

Heroin has this way of calming even the most chaotic situation. It’s like watching a scene from a play and yet you’re right there. Just one fix, that’s how it always starts.

Meredith wanted to cover the tracks. She always wore long sleeves, no matter how hot the weather was. Too much makeup too, as Craig’s friends would say. Now, at forty-six, she still sported the same dark eyebrows and pale makeup she wore back in her clubbing days. The bags under her eyes told of hard times, mascara highlighting an unnatural gap between eyelashes.

The police had treated her less like a victim and more like an accomplice. When she overheard the youngest cop describe her as the widow, she shuddered with excitement. Everything was oddly falling into place, everything but the spoon . . .

Sitting at the table in front of a sliding glass door, Meredith took another drag of her cigarette and a sip of Scotch. Not as satisfying as heroin, but for the time being, it would do. Meredith watched the detectives. She couldn’t wait for them to leave; she knew where Craig hid his stash: in a peanut butter jar on a high shelf. He thought she was afraid of the spiders and would never look there. Then, when Craig left to be with his mother in the hospital, Meredith spent the entire evening desperately searching through every inch of the house. Later, she went through the garage, and finally the shed. It served him right, for leaving Meredith at home alone. Craig was clever, but he was also lazy. He spent way too much time in the shed for someone who never cleaned the yard. When they got the place, Craig had to buy the best weed-trimmer and lawnmower. Both of which were now left out in the yard overgrown with weeds.

Somehow, Craig and Meredith managed to buy a suburban home just six months prior. The house stood two stories high on a quiet cul-de-sac. Compared to other houses in the neighborhood, it seemed the same, until you tried to work in the yard. That’s when the property revealed its true size.

Craig and Meredith tried to buy other homes. There was the duplex with a leaky roof. They put a down payment on it, but when the inspection report came back, it showed major flaws. Craig’s brother Ted tried to sell the two on the deal. He wondered why they would deny a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity; the bargain-of-the-century. Meredith had her suspicions from the start. With ten years’ experience in real estate, and a contractor’s license, he should have known not to try and unload that dump in Chatsworth, California.

What really sold the couple on the place was its location adjacent to the old Spahn Movie Ranch. The two loved the idea of owning a house built where Charlie Manson once resided. Location-location-location, Craig would joke.

Ted had planted a seed in Craig’s head around a year earlier, during one of the couple’s many breakups. See, owning a home is important to women. Men don’t give a crap, but for women, it’s everything, Ted would say. I mean, look around; what do you own? Craig looked around his old, dusty, black bedroom, eyeing his gaming console, flat screen TV, guitar, and a dozen or so milk crates filled to the brim with collectibles. Not just any collectibles, but comic books, figurines, books on serial-killers, and a Japanese flag his grandfather had taken from a dead soldier in World War II. Somehow, none of these counted for Ted. When the couple broke up this time, Craig was forced to move back home with his mother.

Like Ted could talk, Craig thought. His brother Ted, a confirmed bachelor, lived alone with his cat and tropical fish. Ted had few close friends. In fact, the only one who came to mind was Gary Campbell. Even that one seemed contrived in a way. Though Ted managed to purchase a townhouse, his reputation was not of some ladies’ man. He would go on and on about some woman named Karen who viewed his profile online. Each time she acknowledged his photos, Ted convinced himself he was getting closer to dating her. The way Ted portrayed her, Karen appeared to be out of his league anyway. Still, there was a lot to admire about Ted. He made wise choices in life and the real estate market signified that.

Ted knew Craig had saved a small fortune while living with Meredith. He didn’t know how much exactly, but it was a lot. Craig received regular payments from a trust fund for taking care of his mom. Meredith had a corporate job as an IT specialist. She paid all the bills. Craig’s part of the bargain was to overlook Meredith’s drinking, play video games, and put up with her abuse. She was a nasty drunk. Once she knocked a couple of his front teeth out. Craig tried to blame it on local hoodlums. He concocted a story about being confronted by gang members while walking to the liquor store. The other guys attacked him for no reason. Craig weighed over 300 pounds. He was big enough to take care of himself in any situation, so that story never made much sense.

Either way, Ted’s urging Craig to buy a home with Meredith burned into his mind. Anything about getting Meredith back would have had the same effect. She would take Craig with her on business trips. He became accustomed to the room service and the posh hotel rooms. He would stay in the room and play video games, while she would attend conferences, trainings, and endless meetings. She’d even give Craig spending money to go to thrift stores and record shops. Anything to get Craig out of the room while she raided the minibar. Craig knew what was up, but he didn’t mind going out on the town and buying a few toys. It’s her dime, he would say.

It started raining earlier, just as the cops arrived. Each drop hitting the roof was like a thousand little reminders of how empty the house now seemed. Meredith put yet another cigarette in her mouth, lighting it with the butt of the previous one. Brutus, Craig’s pit bull was barking in the other room. He didn’t like strangers in the house. They rarely had visitors. One would think a dog would eventually calm down, but Brutus kept scratching and barking and sniffing under the door, groaning and pleading for someone’s attention. Then the high pitch whining. Meredith revered the sound. It was no use trying to calm him down either. The only person who was capable of that was Craig. Well, I suppose we’ll get out of your hair, miss, the detective said. That dog sounds like he’s fixing to have a fit. Meredith shook her head in agreement. Sorry for your loss, the other officer said.

Meredith followed them to the door. The rain fell much harder now. Brutus could sense the strangers heading down the walkway to the squad car, as he pushed the curtains with his head and barked even louder than before. He had them in his sights; one last warning to never return. Now he was back to the door as Meredith made her way down the hallway and opened it. Come on, boy. We’re going out to the shed, said Meredith.

She grabbed her cell phone and pushed the sliding glass door to the right. It opened with ease. Then she fought the wood-framed sliding screen door as its rollers snagged and caught. Whenever there was moisture in the air, the wood warped and made it difficult to open. Craig was supposed to take care of that but somehow never got around to it. It opened just enough for one person to slide through. Brutus followed but stopped suddenly under the edge of the roof and began to bark.

Now, Meredith was standing in the pouring rain, trying to coax Brutus to follow. Come on, Brutus, she said, making it sound like a game. We’re going to the shed. Brutus stood fast, barking repeatedly. Come on! Don’t be stubborn, she said. But Brutus wouldn’t budge.

It was early April, so it wasn’t like the first rain of the season. Brutus had been out in the rain at night before. He loved the rain. If they had a pool, Brutus would be in it regularly. The cold didn’t matter either. Brutus would always go out in the yard. You never had to coax Brutus to go outside. There was always something to sniff and pee on out there.

Meredith turned around and looked at the shed. It was lit by the glare from the porch light. The rain was pounding on it now. It was one of those two-toned, painted, plywood sheds, with the little windows made to look like a dollhouse. Inside, the windows wore white laced curtains. Just cute enough for the last owners to not tear it down. The previous residents were a divorced couple. They poured money into the place in a failed attempt to cover up the pain in their marriage.

Brutus kept barking, as if trying to warn Meredith. If someone was in the backyard, Brutus would have attacked. He was one hell of a deterrent: stocky, made of pure muscle, mean, and horny. Craig considered entering Brutus in a local dog fight, but that would have taken some effort. The closest Craig got was attending a dog fight in Pacoima, where he bet big and lost. Craig just wanted to see Brutus kill something. Was that too much to ask? A dog that powerful, behind an unlocked gate—it was bound to happen someday.

Soaking wet and losing patience, Meredith ran to the shelter of the unlocked shed. Brutus continued to bark incessantly, but he stayed put, under the eve of the house. She pulled the handle swinging the door ajar to the let light in. Oh, crap! What is all this stuff? She said to herself. It was near empty the last time she pilfered Craig’s stash. No wonder he left the lawn mower out. There was barely enough room to stand. Desperate to get out of the rain, and even more determined to find Craig’s stash, she began tossing items out of the way. It was difficult, but she knew where the peanut butter jar was. On the top shelf in the back. If she could only make her way through the boxes about chest high. Meredith stopped to put her password in her cell phone so she could use the phone as a flashlight. 786543 then her fingerprint and the phone lit up.

A dead man’s belongings . . . Just a day before, all this clutter would have made sense. Not to mention, all have re-sale value. There were figurines, black candles, punk records, a ventriloquist doll with those freaky eyes, the Hitler Youth knife, true crime horror books, and clown makeup. Craig was into some weird possessions.

The clown makeup was the scariest. Why did he insist on wearing it that one day? Meredith came home to find Craig jonesing for a fix, clown suit and all, refusing to get out of character. He talked about wanting to torture her. It was just the character! Craig would later explain. She knew that