The "Freeola Customer Forum" forum, which includes Retro Game Reviews, has been archived and is now read-only. You cannot post here or create a new thread or review on this forum.
As the knocking at the front door became louder, Tavis could see the latch coming loose. He pulled his shoes on, and crept towards the rear of the house. He passed the kitchen sink, stacked up with filthy plates, and cautiously opened the door. He peered around the corner to check that it was clear, and stepped out into the alley. As he did so he heard the front door give way. He broke into a run, keeping his head low, beneath the level of the fence. As he increased in speed he began to regret his choice not to tie his laces, his left shoe feeling loose. He considered stopping to re-tie it, but knew they’d be on him in seconds if he did so.
A few more steps was all it took for it to come free, but he had to leave it behind, he had no time to stop. As he reached the corner he found that all of his running was in vain. Chep Maglett was there waiting.
“I knew you’d run Master Stack. Just like your old man” said Chep as he lit a cigarette.
“Look, I don’t have your money. You know Dad can’t work, he’s in hospital” said Tavis.
“I’m aware that Frankie Stack had an unpleasant accident, yes. But did you know that clumsiness tends to be inherited?”
“Pardon me?” said Tavis, his heart rushing in panic.
“Well I have some good news for you young Master Stack. My employer is willing to give you a payment break. Until you get out of hospital, anyway.”
“Don’t you mean until Dad gets out of hospital?”
“I know what I meant, Tavis. Now here comes my associate, Nolan, and what’s this he’s found?”
“It’s a shoe Chep. Found it a little back that way” said Nolan who Tavis had earlier seen pounding on his door.
“I see you lost a shoe. Shouldn’t there be a foot in that?” asked Chep as the goon pulled Tavis to the ground.
Chep smiled as he reached into his jacket, pulling out a machete.
“Now remember Tavis, by boss will accept cash, cheque and credit card, limbs will be at risk if you do not keep up these repayments.”
Tavis clenched his teeth as he watched the machete come down over his ankle, and as the pain shot up his body he slipped into unconsciousness.
When Tavis woke, he found himself in an unfamiliar bed. His sense of sight and smell soon told him he was in hospital, and the incident with Chep and the machete came back to him. He threw back the sheets, and there it was in front of him. His left foot, attached as it should be. He wiggled his toes, relieved to see them responding as they should.
Snippets of conversation flooded Tavis’ head, things heard whilst under operation, none of which made sense to him.
“It’s no good Doctor, the blood is clotting too quickly, the foot will not live unless the blood flows.”
“Then get me leeches, and quick, that’ll keep the red going.”
“But Doctor, our supplies are short – the only ones we have in the building have been used in the experiments in nuclear medicine!”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass if they’re atomic, they’re the only thing that’ll save this boy’s foot.”
Whatever they’d done, he didn’t care, he had his foot, and it felt fine.
As the days passed the hunger increased. No amount of hospital food would satisfy him. All of the meat was over-cooked, the vegetables unsatisfying. When the day came to check himself out he couldn’t have been happier. He went straight to the local steakhouse to order the largest, bloodiest, slab of meat on offer, but still he was left hungry. He returned to his home, still as messy as ever, and tried to sleep it off.
His sleep was interrupted by pounding at the door. They knew he was home. Tavis rolled out of bed and peered through the window, sure enough Chep was there waiting. Tavis glanced down at his shoes and considered putting them on to slip out the back, but a twinge in his foot told him it would not be wise. He no longer felt scared, and strode confidently towards the door.
“Chep, what a pleasant surprise,” said Tavis as he pulled the door open “come on in.”
Confused, Chep stepped inside, before pulling a notebook from his pocket “it’s three hundred this week. Last weeks payment plus interest. Next week it’s double.”
“Okay, just a minute” said Tavis as he began looking through the kitchen draws, stalling for time. As he reached in the ends of his fingers began to burn. He managed to hold back a scream, not wanting to alert Chep, and threw his hands inside a brown paper bag. He kept his hands inside as he approached Chep, grimacing with the pain burning through him.
“I’ve got your money” said Tavis, “but I've always wanted to know, who do you work for?”
“Ain’t no business of yours. Pay up.” Said Chep, rubbing his fingers together.
Tavis pulled his hands from the bag and placed his fingers around Chep’s thick arm. The thug screamed in pain as the toothed plates of Tavis’ fingers dug into his flesh and began sucking. Hirudin flowed from within Tavis and out through his fingers, into the wounds on Chep’s arm to keep the blood flowing. He’d finally found something to appeal to his hunger.
“So, who do you work for?” repeated Tavis as Chep fell to his knees.
“Please, man, stop! It's Hugo, the big boss today, but I don’t know where to find him!”
“Then you’re of no further use to me” said Tavis as he released his grip on Chep’s arm, “but I’m still hungry.”
Chep’s face filled with fear as Tavis closed in on him, his screams increasing in volume until his throat was pierced by Tavis’ new teeth. Minutes later the flow had dried up, and Chep’s body was a withered mess of bone and skin.
All of that feeding had made Tavis tired, so he headed back to bed, knowing that he’d need to feed again soon enough, and there where plenty of people out there that deserved nothing more.
A few more steps was all it took for it to come free, but he had to leave it behind, he had no time to stop. As he reached the corner he found that all of his running was in vain. Chep Maglett was there waiting.
“I knew you’d run Master Stack. Just like your old man” said Chep as he lit a cigarette.
“Look, I don’t have your money. You know Dad can’t work, he’s in hospital” said Tavis.
“I’m aware that Frankie Stack had an unpleasant accident, yes. But did you know that clumsiness tends to be inherited?”
“Pardon me?” said Tavis, his heart rushing in panic.
“Well I have some good news for you young Master Stack. My employer is willing to give you a payment break. Until you get out of hospital, anyway.”
“Don’t you mean until Dad gets out of hospital?”
“I know what I meant, Tavis. Now here comes my associate, Nolan, and what’s this he’s found?”
“It’s a shoe Chep. Found it a little back that way” said Nolan who Tavis had earlier seen pounding on his door.
“I see you lost a shoe. Shouldn’t there be a foot in that?” asked Chep as the goon pulled Tavis to the ground.
Chep smiled as he reached into his jacket, pulling out a machete.
“Now remember Tavis, by boss will accept cash, cheque and credit card, limbs will be at risk if you do not keep up these repayments.”
Tavis clenched his teeth as he watched the machete come down over his ankle, and as the pain shot up his body he slipped into unconsciousness.
When Tavis woke, he found himself in an unfamiliar bed. His sense of sight and smell soon told him he was in hospital, and the incident with Chep and the machete came back to him. He threw back the sheets, and there it was in front of him. His left foot, attached as it should be. He wiggled his toes, relieved to see them responding as they should.
Snippets of conversation flooded Tavis’ head, things heard whilst under operation, none of which made sense to him.
“It’s no good Doctor, the blood is clotting too quickly, the foot will not live unless the blood flows.”
“Then get me leeches, and quick, that’ll keep the red going.”
“But Doctor, our supplies are short – the only ones we have in the building have been used in the experiments in nuclear medicine!”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass if they’re atomic, they’re the only thing that’ll save this boy’s foot.”
Whatever they’d done, he didn’t care, he had his foot, and it felt fine.
As the days passed the hunger increased. No amount of hospital food would satisfy him. All of the meat was over-cooked, the vegetables unsatisfying. When the day came to check himself out he couldn’t have been happier. He went straight to the local steakhouse to order the largest, bloodiest, slab of meat on offer, but still he was left hungry. He returned to his home, still as messy as ever, and tried to sleep it off.
His sleep was interrupted by pounding at the door. They knew he was home. Tavis rolled out of bed and peered through the window, sure enough Chep was there waiting. Tavis glanced down at his shoes and considered putting them on to slip out the back, but a twinge in his foot told him it would not be wise. He no longer felt scared, and strode confidently towards the door.
“Chep, what a pleasant surprise,” said Tavis as he pulled the door open “come on in.”
Confused, Chep stepped inside, before pulling a notebook from his pocket “it’s three hundred this week. Last weeks payment plus interest. Next week it’s double.”
“Okay, just a minute” said Tavis as he began looking through the kitchen draws, stalling for time. As he reached in the ends of his fingers began to burn. He managed to hold back a scream, not wanting to alert Chep, and threw his hands inside a brown paper bag. He kept his hands inside as he approached Chep, grimacing with the pain burning through him.
“I’ve got your money” said Tavis, “but I've always wanted to know, who do you work for?”
“Ain’t no business of yours. Pay up.” Said Chep, rubbing his fingers together.
Tavis pulled his hands from the bag and placed his fingers around Chep’s thick arm. The thug screamed in pain as the toothed plates of Tavis’ fingers dug into his flesh and began sucking. Hirudin flowed from within Tavis and out through his fingers, into the wounds on Chep’s arm to keep the blood flowing. He’d finally found something to appeal to his hunger.
“So, who do you work for?” repeated Tavis as Chep fell to his knees.
“Please, man, stop! It's Hugo, the big boss today, but I don’t know where to find him!”
“Then you’re of no further use to me” said Tavis as he released his grip on Chep’s arm, “but I’m still hungry.”
Chep’s face filled with fear as Tavis closed in on him, his screams increasing in volume until his throat was pierced by Tavis’ new teeth. Minutes later the flow had dried up, and Chep’s body was a withered mess of bone and skin.
All of that feeding had made Tavis tired, so he headed back to bed, knowing that he’d need to feed again soon enough, and there where plenty of people out there that deserved nothing more.
That was great, kind of reminded me of a mix between Spider Man and the Hungry Caterpillar. Good work.
To be honest, the suave and diversity to the piece makes it stand out from the rest of the stories in the competition... more so than this story.
Forest Fan wrote:
> Wakka wrote:
> Brilliant. If this doesn't win then I shall eat a large leech.
>
> If Ashman's doesn't win then I will eat... my hat. That's what I told
> him on MSN.
I've not read Ash's yet. But I expect it to be very very very good.
> Wakka wrote:
> Brilliant. If this doesn't win then I shall eat a large leech.
>
> If Ashman's doesn't win then I will eat... my hat. That's what I told
> him on MSN.
I've not read Ash's yet. But I expect it to be very very very good.
I don't know. To me this seemed too expected.
Perhaps I'm used to something more original from Meka.
Perhaps I'm used to something more original from Meka.
Wakka wrote:
> Brilliant. If this doesn't win then I shall eat a large leech.
If Ashman's doesn't win then I will eat... my hat. That's what I told him on MSN.
> Brilliant. If this doesn't win then I shall eat a large leech.
If Ashman's doesn't win then I will eat... my hat. That's what I told him on MSN.
Excellent. Nice twist on using a medicinal leech :)
Brilliant. If this doesn't win then I shall eat a large leech.
It is/was a mistake.
I had an extra character in there who I later edited out. This piece of conversation was meant for him.
Thanks for reading, anyway.
I had an extra character in there who I later edited out. This piece of conversation was meant for him.
Thanks for reading, anyway.
Much good, I liked:
Until you get out of hospital, anyway.”
“Don’t you mean until Dad gets out of hospital?”
“I know what I meant, Tavis
Especially.
Although it did trail off a bit at the end, peeling from the excellence.
And: “but where’s Chep today?” - is that a mistake, or do I just not understand.
Until you get out of hospital, anyway.”
“Don’t you mean until Dad gets out of hospital?”
“I know what I meant, Tavis
Especially.
Although it did trail off a bit at the end, peeling from the excellence.
And: “but where’s Chep today?” - is that a mistake, or do I just not understand.
As the knocking at the front door became louder, Tavis could see the latch coming loose. He pulled his shoes on, and crept towards the rear of the house. He passed the kitchen sink, stacked up with filthy plates, and cautiously opened the door. He peered around the corner to check that it was clear, and stepped out into the alley. As he did so he heard the front door give way. He broke into a run, keeping his head low, beneath the level of the fence. As he increased in speed he began to regret his choice not to tie his laces, his left shoe feeling loose. He considered stopping to re-tie it, but knew they’d be on him in seconds if he did so.
A few more steps was all it took for it to come free, but he had to leave it behind, he had no time to stop. As he reached the corner he found that all of his running was in vain. Chep Maglett was there waiting.
“I knew you’d run Master Stack. Just like your old man” said Chep as he lit a cigarette.
“Look, I don’t have your money. You know Dad can’t work, he’s in hospital” said Tavis.
“I’m aware that Frankie Stack had an unpleasant accident, yes. But did you know that clumsiness tends to be inherited?”
“Pardon me?” said Tavis, his heart rushing in panic.
“Well I have some good news for you young Master Stack. My employer is willing to give you a payment break. Until you get out of hospital, anyway.”
“Don’t you mean until Dad gets out of hospital?”
“I know what I meant, Tavis. Now here comes my associate, Nolan, and what’s this he’s found?”
“It’s a shoe Chep. Found it a little back that way” said Nolan who Tavis had earlier seen pounding on his door.
“I see you lost a shoe. Shouldn’t there be a foot in that?” asked Chep as the goon pulled Tavis to the ground.
Chep smiled as he reached into his jacket, pulling out a machete.
“Now remember Tavis, by boss will accept cash, cheque and credit card, limbs will be at risk if you do not keep up these repayments.”
Tavis clenched his teeth as he watched the machete come down over his ankle, and as the pain shot up his body he slipped into unconsciousness.
When Tavis woke, he found himself in an unfamiliar bed. His sense of sight and smell soon told him he was in hospital, and the incident with Chep and the machete came back to him. He threw back the sheets, and there it was in front of him. His left foot, attached as it should be. He wiggled his toes, relieved to see them responding as they should.
Snippets of conversation flooded Tavis’ head, things heard whilst under operation, none of which made sense to him.
“It’s no good Doctor, the blood is clotting too quickly, the foot will not live unless the blood flows.”
“Then get me leeches, and quick, that’ll keep the red going.”
“But Doctor, our supplies are short – the only ones we have in the building have been used in the experiments in nuclear medicine!”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass if they’re atomic, they’re the only thing that’ll save this boy’s foot.”
Whatever they’d done, he didn’t care, he had his foot, and it felt fine.
As the days passed the hunger increased. No amount of hospital food would satisfy him. All of the meat was over-cooked, the vegetables unsatisfying. When the day came to check himself out he couldn’t have been happier. He went straight to the local steakhouse to order the largest, bloodiest, slab of meat on offer, but still he was left hungry. He returned to his home, still as messy as ever, and tried to sleep it off.
His sleep was interrupted by pounding at the door. They knew he was home. Tavis rolled out of bed and peered through the window, sure enough Chep was there waiting. Tavis glanced down at his shoes and considered putting them on to slip out the back, but a twinge in his foot told him it would not be wise. He no longer felt scared, and strode confidently towards the door.
“Chep, what a pleasant surprise,” said Tavis as he pulled the door open “come on in.”
Confused, Chep stepped inside, before pulling a notebook from his pocket “it’s three hundred this week. Last weeks payment plus interest. Next week it’s double.”
“Okay, just a minute” said Tavis as he began looking through the kitchen draws, stalling for time. As he reached in the ends of his fingers began to burn. He managed to hold back a scream, not wanting to alert Chep, and threw his hands inside a brown paper bag. He kept his hands inside as he approached Chep, grimacing with the pain burning through him.
“I’ve got your money” said Tavis, “but I've always wanted to know, who do you work for?”
“Ain’t no business of yours. Pay up.” Said Chep, rubbing his fingers together.
Tavis pulled his hands from the bag and placed his fingers around Chep’s thick arm. The thug screamed in pain as the toothed plates of Tavis’ fingers dug into his flesh and began sucking. Hirudin flowed from within Tavis and out through his fingers, into the wounds on Chep’s arm to keep the blood flowing. He’d finally found something to appeal to his hunger.
“So, who do you work for?” repeated Tavis as Chep fell to his knees.
“Please, man, stop! It's Hugo, the big boss today, but I don’t know where to find him!”
“Then you’re of no further use to me” said Tavis as he released his grip on Chep’s arm, “but I’m still hungry.”
Chep’s face filled with fear as Tavis closed in on him, his screams increasing in volume until his throat was pierced by Tavis’ new teeth. Minutes later the flow had dried up, and Chep’s body was a withered mess of bone and skin.
All of that feeding had made Tavis tired, so he headed back to bed, knowing that he’d need to feed again soon enough, and there where plenty of people out there that deserved nothing more.
A few more steps was all it took for it to come free, but he had to leave it behind, he had no time to stop. As he reached the corner he found that all of his running was in vain. Chep Maglett was there waiting.
“I knew you’d run Master Stack. Just like your old man” said Chep as he lit a cigarette.
“Look, I don’t have your money. You know Dad can’t work, he’s in hospital” said Tavis.
“I’m aware that Frankie Stack had an unpleasant accident, yes. But did you know that clumsiness tends to be inherited?”
“Pardon me?” said Tavis, his heart rushing in panic.
“Well I have some good news for you young Master Stack. My employer is willing to give you a payment break. Until you get out of hospital, anyway.”
“Don’t you mean until Dad gets out of hospital?”
“I know what I meant, Tavis. Now here comes my associate, Nolan, and what’s this he’s found?”
“It’s a shoe Chep. Found it a little back that way” said Nolan who Tavis had earlier seen pounding on his door.
“I see you lost a shoe. Shouldn’t there be a foot in that?” asked Chep as the goon pulled Tavis to the ground.
Chep smiled as he reached into his jacket, pulling out a machete.
“Now remember Tavis, by boss will accept cash, cheque and credit card, limbs will be at risk if you do not keep up these repayments.”
Tavis clenched his teeth as he watched the machete come down over his ankle, and as the pain shot up his body he slipped into unconsciousness.
When Tavis woke, he found himself in an unfamiliar bed. His sense of sight and smell soon told him he was in hospital, and the incident with Chep and the machete came back to him. He threw back the sheets, and there it was in front of him. His left foot, attached as it should be. He wiggled his toes, relieved to see them responding as they should.
Snippets of conversation flooded Tavis’ head, things heard whilst under operation, none of which made sense to him.
“It’s no good Doctor, the blood is clotting too quickly, the foot will not live unless the blood flows.”
“Then get me leeches, and quick, that’ll keep the red going.”
“But Doctor, our supplies are short – the only ones we have in the building have been used in the experiments in nuclear medicine!”
“I don’t give a rat’s ass if they’re atomic, they’re the only thing that’ll save this boy’s foot.”
Whatever they’d done, he didn’t care, he had his foot, and it felt fine.
As the days passed the hunger increased. No amount of hospital food would satisfy him. All of the meat was over-cooked, the vegetables unsatisfying. When the day came to check himself out he couldn’t have been happier. He went straight to the local steakhouse to order the largest, bloodiest, slab of meat on offer, but still he was left hungry. He returned to his home, still as messy as ever, and tried to sleep it off.
His sleep was interrupted by pounding at the door. They knew he was home. Tavis rolled out of bed and peered through the window, sure enough Chep was there waiting. Tavis glanced down at his shoes and considered putting them on to slip out the back, but a twinge in his foot told him it would not be wise. He no longer felt scared, and strode confidently towards the door.
“Chep, what a pleasant surprise,” said Tavis as he pulled the door open “come on in.”
Confused, Chep stepped inside, before pulling a notebook from his pocket “it’s three hundred this week. Last weeks payment plus interest. Next week it’s double.”
“Okay, just a minute” said Tavis as he began looking through the kitchen draws, stalling for time. As he reached in the ends of his fingers began to burn. He managed to hold back a scream, not wanting to alert Chep, and threw his hands inside a brown paper bag. He kept his hands inside as he approached Chep, grimacing with the pain burning through him.
“I’ve got your money” said Tavis, “but I've always wanted to know, who do you work for?”
“Ain’t no business of yours. Pay up.” Said Chep, rubbing his fingers together.
Tavis pulled his hands from the bag and placed his fingers around Chep’s thick arm. The thug screamed in pain as the toothed plates of Tavis’ fingers dug into his flesh and began sucking. Hirudin flowed from within Tavis and out through his fingers, into the wounds on Chep’s arm to keep the blood flowing. He’d finally found something to appeal to his hunger.
“So, who do you work for?” repeated Tavis as Chep fell to his knees.
“Please, man, stop! It's Hugo, the big boss today, but I don’t know where to find him!”
“Then you’re of no further use to me” said Tavis as he released his grip on Chep’s arm, “but I’m still hungry.”
Chep’s face filled with fear as Tavis closed in on him, his screams increasing in volume until his throat was pierced by Tavis’ new teeth. Minutes later the flow had dried up, and Chep’s body was a withered mess of bone and skin.
All of that feeding had made Tavis tired, so he headed back to bed, knowing that he’d need to feed again soon enough, and there where plenty of people out there that deserved nothing more.