I know the first one landed...here is were I would like the GRL Victims Report to be....
Enjoy!
Printable View
I know the first one landed...here is were I would like the GRL Victims Report to be....
Enjoy!
It was a sleepless night last spring when the Grim Reaper came to me in my dreams. I seemed to hear a voice similar to Adam Corolla's come to me from afar. He said, "I have come to tell you about a great evil that is abroad in the world. His name is Lopaka, and every now and then he will send bombs in the mail to unsuspecting victims under the guise of cigar trades and passes. Many men are tricked into lighting the bombs he sends them becuase they look and feel like cigars. He even puts a wrapper leaf and a real cigar band on them. I give you this warning so that you may not see me again." I tried to follow him, but I was dreaming during a sleepless night. There wasn't much I could do. I sat down to reflect on his words.
Today, I got a large box with 5 cigars in it. The return address was from who? Lopaka. . . . . . . . . . . . . Should I open it? . . . . . . . . Should I smoke the cigars?. . . . . . . . . . Should I tempt fate?
I think I will. Tonight as a matter of fact.
Farewell my friends, If you see me in the morning, please bury me somewhere nice.
So there I was, minding my own damn business ready to sit down at my desk to start my afternoon project on Monday and up pops this random package on my desk.
In the resulting frenzy, I now realize that I ditched the box away without reading the label… the note in the box didn’t mention anything special, so I totally cluster #*$& the point of this…
The other grim reaper that visited me this week was the emergency migration of my company’s middle tier servers from NT 4.0 to Windows 2003 SP1 (don’t ask why it was still NT, not my call at all) . If anyone has ever attempted this, I’m sure you understand….
This hot potato is off in the morning..
Suddenly I awake out of a deep sleep with an urge I can no longer fight. I have to piss like a Spanish race horse! I turn and glance at the clock. 2:47 AM. Groggily I sit up and swing my legs over the side of the bed. I give a bit of a stretch trying to wake myself enough to walk. I manage to bring myself to my feet and slowly make my way to the bathroom.
The room is black like the ocean floor. I feel my way along the walls and successfully navigate my way to smooth linoleum floor of the bathroom. I pull the door shut behind me and flick the light switch. The sight of the toilet is like salvation. I lift the seat and feel that sweet release that is like no other. A quick flush and flick of the switch and I am on my journey back to the security of my pillow. Slowly I slide through the room, being careful not to stub my toe. I'm getting closer. It won't be long now. I'll be back in my dream. Cuban cigars, Cuban rum, and Cuban women!
I feel breeze sweep by. I hear the curtain flutter. Ahh, nice and cool out tonight. Wait. I didn't leave the window open. Maybe she did. No matter, feels good. I am back underway. Huh? What have I bumped into? I must have gotten turned around when I was startled by the window. I reach out to feel the obstruction. Cold. Hard. A pole? I run my hand up the object. A sickle?! Alarmed I step back, stumble over my feet and *smack* slam into the floor. I hear a whisper. "It is your time. There is nothing you can do." Then something swiftly slices the air in front of me. There is a thud on the floor in front of me and in a brief moment, all is calm.
I quickly locate the lamp and switch it on. There is a package on the floor where I had fallen. Cautiously I approach. By all judgments it is an ordinary package. Nothing seems sinister about it. I gently lift it from the floor, weighing it. Should I open it? What did he mean by "It is your time."? I have to open it. I must know what all this is about. I put the package on the night stand and retrieve a sharp knife from the kitchen. I return to the package. I take a couple of deep breaths to relax myself. Ok, now I'm ready. I slide the knife along the tape at the seals. With the lightest touch, I tear off the opening strip. I lift the flap and......
.......it all goes a bit groggy after that actually.
As I left the office last night the intermixed snow and sleeting rain had begun to fall. The pavement reflected light with a dull shine like that of a glistening, rain soaked, tombstone. As I opened the car door I felt a chill come over me. A chill I had not felt before. A weight fell upon me. It was hard to breath. I could sense his presence, but who was he?
I travel the back roads from my office to my home, passing from town to town, as I slowing crested the small hill that boarders the towns of Hampton and Rye I notice an ominous darkness ahead. The houses were dark, the streets empty. As I crept forward it seemed the night closed in around me. The darkness was heavy, and carried with it a foreboding message, a message of sorrow and despair. As I arrived at my home I noticed but one candle in the window. I was surprised still to see my house dark, knowing all along the town was black. As I made my way to my door I felt a rush, not of excitement but rather as if being chased, chased by a force unseen. I throw open the door and slammed it behind me. The rush of air extinguished the light. As I search for the matches the feeling returned, I was being watched. I fumbled with the matches, dropping a few, and finally I re-light the candle. I slowly turned around to see my wife and small child sitting silently on the sofa, before them a package. A package which marked my doom.
I had been stricken, the reaper was upon me.
My head spun, I sat silent. Later I fell into an uneasy slumber. When I awoke this morning it seemed I was in a fog, seeing through another’s eyes. I performed my morning routine as usual. Still, I felt off.
I remember getting into the car, but nothing else. I briefly awoke from this dream, but I was not in the car, rather standing in the hockey store, staring at the plain, bone-white goalie masks. I was taken back, why was I here? I stumbled from the store, dripping in sweat. I’m confused, lost, what is going on here. Darkness.
Again I awake, now I am in Home Depot, in lawn and garden. The axes, chain saws and machetes, so clean, so pure, so right.
Now I understand.
Now I know what to do.
I will be calling on one of you.
Each day for nearly the last week I've been sensing a strange feeling... Some force, or some thing, is trying to draw me to the office I rarely visit these days... Things are slow here in the winter, so not much need to go there... But - why do I feel this tremendous urge to go there?
Today was a happy sunny day - a bit on the chilly side. Things are pretty cold here right now, but you can sense spring is on the way... I'm happily driving along, but I still have the strange desire to visit the office. I think - hey, what the hell. I'll check my voicemails - see if everything is okay. Why not - I got time to kill...
So I pull up to the building I immediately notice there isn't a thing moving for blocks around the building. No cars, no people, no animals. I think - that's nothing unusual - heck, it's Saturday!!! I should have known better...
I turn the key in the lock to unlock the door. Strange, I have to struggle with the lock a bit. It's as if the lock is trying to stop me from entering. I enter the alarm code and the buttons seem to be more difficult to push than normal... Now I'm gripped with a feeling coming over me that I cannot describe. There is no turning back - I must visit the office...
I round the corner and look into the office - there is it. But what is it? It looks like an ordinary USPS Priority Mail package, innocently covered by the most recent Cigars International catalog. Clearly, the catalog was placed there to allay any fears I had...
As I get closer to the package there is a strange aura filling the room. Is it the fluorescent lights playing tricks? Well, it is a bit chilly in the room and the lights are flickering a bit while they try to warm up. I reach for the package and as I do so - I realize something... The room is never this cold!!! Maybe the thermostat.....
I wake up in a different place.... Surrounded by VERY nice cigars and single malt scotch... Is this heaven??? It can't be... I'm still here!!! NNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOO.....
Now a strong feeling is gripping me that MAYBE I need to take someone else out... :smiley15:
bbwwwwwaaaaahahahahahahahaha!!!!!!!!
I had this cold feeling come over me while I was sitting in my cube. I knew something was wrong. Standing up and looking careful out my cube opening I saw it. A large dark shape rounding the corner down the hall. Without a second thought I was off at a full run the other way. As I rounded the far corner I could hear him calling my name. I didn't look back but just kept running.
Life is short and I have a family so those poor souls that happen to be in my way as I ran where quickly pushed aside. A few throw into the way of the oncoming darkness.(I never did like Bob. He's an Asshat.) I ignored the screams and calls for help.
My plan was simple if I reached the end of the main hall. I could turn right and go down a small path until I got to Lab B door. Then from there I would cut across Lab B into Lab D then out of the building. As I came to the end of the main hallway I had to slide in order to slow down. As my feet hit the end of the hallway I used my momentum to stand me up again. Then pushing off with my left hand I started to run for the door. My hand tried to turn the door knob but it was locked. This Lab isn't ever locked. I was trapped. Behind me I heard panting. I turn slowly and......
Leaning against the wall bent over trying to catch his breath was John the mail guy. In his other hand was a package and clip board. "Damn it Chris why do we have to do this ever damn day when you get something in the mail!" More panting. "Can't you just sign for it like everyone else! No I have to chase you all over the building." John stands up and comes closer. "Sign here and take the damn thing." I quickly sign the clip board and John hands me my package and turns to leave.
As John walks away I call after him, "Thanks John. See you tomorrow." He quickly raises his hand giving me the one finger salute. I walk away with my prize.
7am, lying in bed when there is a great banging on the door, turn over and let the wife get it as a great despair has been growing in me over the last couple of days, sapping my will to action. Suddenly it occurs to me that all is not right, the bird song in the background has stopped and the dogs, instead of their normal barking at the door, appear to be wimpering quietly.
A long moment later my wife returns to bed, her face ashen, and in a frightened voice whispers "he came for you".
Nervously descending the stairs I find the dogs huddled in a corner of the living room, staring apprehensively at a nondescript box sitting on the desk of the study area. At that moment I detect an unearthly laugh fom the street and the words "who will be next" echo in my ears.
I am still sat in front of the box, trying to gather the courage to open it and see what lies within.
God I just love that English accent of yours... :smiley20:Quote:
Originally Posted by stjohnroe
I noticed you did not wash your hands........:smiley36: :smiley36: :smiley36:Quote:
Originally Posted by grand cru no 2
As I arrived home from work this evening, I was met at the door by a shadowy figure in a black hood and my wife's nightgown. I immediately assumed what most men would, but as I was about to lay the smackdown, I noticed it wasn't my wife's nightgown at all...she doesn't even own a nightgown. It was my mother-in-law's nightgown...odd, but much less infuriating. Before I had a chance to inquire as to what the hell he was doing there, a low, growling voice (which sounded a bit like Norm McDonald) said "You're mailbox comes with me." "Oh yeah?!" I replied, "bring it you little bitch!" I was slightly taken aback as I realized I had tapped into some previously unknown reserve of testicular fortitude large enough to allow me to stare Death in the face and call him a little bitch. Unfazed, I held my ground. He replied "Insolent mortal! Are you unaware of the power I posess?" Now, I've played enough poker to know a bluff when I see one. I could see in his eyes...well, at least where his eyes were supposed to be...that he was sure I would back down and hand over my mailbox. But I paid $12.95 for this mailbox at the Home Depot, so I wasn't going down without a fight. Plus, if there's one thing everybody knows, Death can't stand a good Monty Python-esqe taunting. I fired back with "I fart in you're general direction! Your mother was a hamster, and your father smelt of elderberries!" Defeated, Death laid the box of cigars at my feet, slumped his bony shoulders, and shuffled away leaving my mailbox intact.
What a tool...
After a long day in town, I came home this evening with a lot on my mind, and I needed to do something to unwind and process all of the information in my head.
My wife and I went into Billings this morning to put an offer on our dream house. We looked at it this past weekend and again yesterday to be sure, but we both "just knew" that it was the house. So we went to talk to our agent and BOOM...an offer was made yesterday and just like that, our dream house was gone.
After a quick lunch spent crying on my Reuben, it was off to the Dr. to confirm what we were already pretty sure about....BOOM, Hefty baby Number 2 is due right around the first week of December.
We pulled into the driveway and I knew I couldn't go in the house to finish packing; I had to get some fresh air. The huge letdown followed shortly thereafter by the sheer joy was almost too much for my heart. I called out to the wife I was going to take a walk to the mailbox...it was a beautiful cool spring evening, the sun was setting, and the air was fresh and crisp. Besides, a quick 2 mile walk was just what the Doctor ordered.
I took off up the road and after 5 minutes realized that I needed a jacket. No worries, I told myself, you'll warm up if you speed up. I quickened the pace and just like that, I did begin to feel warmer.....wait a minute, my body wasn't heating up, it was the air around me. As I rounded the wooded corner and saw my mailbox in sight, my face was hit with a furnace blast of hot putrid air. Was there a dead animal in the meadow? What was going on here? The hair on the back of my neck stood at attention, urging me to turn for home.
I fought the impulse down, shook my head to clear it of that crazy feeling and got to my mailbox.
Then I heard it. A growling, tearing sound came from the underbrush beside the road, and I knew my time had come. I turned to run, dropping a stack of bills, the newspaper, and an innocent looking package I hadn't even noticed until I fell to the ground under the weight of the hounds of Hell. I felt the burning fangs tear into the meat of my calf, my left hand was ripped from my arm and I lay bleeding in the gravel, when I understood...death comes via Priority Mail.
Death...It's a funny beast. You just never know when or how it's gonna hit you.
I've seen many forms of it. It does not shock me any more.I thought I was immune...Was I ever wrong.
I was calmly sitting in my den reading the paper and having my morning cup. Things were going my way. The sun was comming in on my face...It felt good to be alive.
Suddenly my dog Jake runs from the room as a chill rushes in...Damn I can see my breath as my chest suddenly becomes heavy and my blood turns to ice.
The sun turns black as I try to get up...I just can't move. What is wrong...What is wrong???
As I struggle to move I realize there is a creatrure dressed in black standing over me...His eyes flash ruby red...His skin is the color of the clouds that seem to be enveloping my body. I hear him chuckle as he approches my chair.
With a strange unearthly motion he throws a box in my lap and says, "You're next".....:smiley40: I thought it would never happen to me.
I emplore all who read this...Be ready. You never know...
Sleep, it's a concept that seems so simple, close your eyes, breath nice and easy and then you just drift off. For the last few weeks this concept had been next to impossible to accomplish. I would lay down never be able to get comfortable. My head would fill with these terrible thoughts. I would have nightmares and wake up with cold sweats. Yes for me the simple idea of sleep had grown incredibly complicated. This is why it would have come as no suprise had last night been exactly the same.
Something very strnage happened when I went to bed though, a wierd sort of calm came over me. My mind cleared, the blankets felt o nice and soft and warm. I closed my eyes and wonderful visions appeared. I had the most pleasant dreams in which I sat outside with a nice breeze blowing across my face smoking my favorite cigar holding my wife close to me. The last dream was strange though, I saw my lovely lady get out of bed, walk to the mailbox and recieve a nice sized package. She walked to the bedroom with a smile on her face and tried to wake me up.
"Nate I have a suprise for you ." she said, but I did not respond. That nights sleep was the best and last I would ever have for you see my dear friends death visits us all and this morning before I woke, he visited me.
Maybe just maybe he'll visit you next.
There I was, traveling by train to the ancient town of Valhalla in eastern Europe. I was alone for this trip. My purpose was single minded. I wanted a shot of the small town as we were passing through. My objective was to step onto the back of the train and snap a once in a lifetime picture of the old town with many fantastic and mysterious stories surrounding its existence.
So finally, after many hours of non stop traveling, we began the long descent to Valhalla over steep tracks along the edge of a mountain side sitting 16,500 ft up above the clouds. As we cut through the dense, dreary cloud layer, there it was…beautiful, spooky, ancient and so overpowering that I almost couldn’t pull my eyes away.
As I made my way back to my room on board the train, I realized what I needed to do was exactly what many before me had tried, and failed at. I suddenly fell to my knees weeping at the despair of the situation. After I recovered, I arose and with every ounce of determination, I finally reached my room.
Closing the door behind me, I went for my camera bag and quickly opened it, and pulled out my camera. This was it. I began loading film, checking my flash and took a test shot…really a self portrait if you will. It might be my last.
I began to feel the train slowing down, knowing it would not stop completely, but rather coast through the decrepit old place. Knowing that it was time, I started my journey towards the back of the train. Soon, I had reached the last train carriage. I made my way over to the rear door and slowly…almost trepidly, timidly opened it.
Slowly…creaking ever so slightly, the door swung outward. Outside was a small ledge on which to stand. Stepping out onto the ledge, the train bounced violently, and I hade to grasp the cold iron railing as the camera almost flew from my hands. There it was.
Valhalla. Land of myth. Strange things happened in places like this. For one thing, all the people had disappeared years before. No one knew why. I certainly wasn’t going to stick around to find answers either.
I began lifting the camera to my face. As I looked through the camera and began to focus on the town, I noticed a shape off into the distance. It was more like a presence really. Dark, forboding and massive. All of a sudden it started towards me! I knew it saw me. I tried to take my picture…I had to take this picture! As I began clicking the button, I felt this overwhelming sense of despair enveloping me. Quickly…almost in the blink of an eye, I forced myself back to reality.
Just as I made my way back into the train and closed shut the door of the carriage, all light became dark. I knew I was safe though. I had escaped the evil of Valhalla. The world would now see what no other was able to accomplish. I took the only known pitures of Valhalla and lived. I was safe.
Just then, the train began to slow down again. What was happening? I got up and turned around to make my way back to my room, but heard a distinct click and creaking sound. The door was opening again……
©2006 HeadHoncho
Headhoncho, that's an intersting story. However, this thread is for those that are participating in a PIF called Grim Reapers List. :smiley2:
Quote:
Originally Posted by Lopaka
Sorry...hehehe. I just wasn't sure. I actually wrote that lil piece in about 10 minutes. I suffer from over imagination. :smiley4:
The idea for this story first inched its way into my mind after I posted an original picture I took of a small town while traveling through Europe. This part is true, however the town and the scariness were made up. It was a little erie on the back of that train however.:smiley5:
Should I repost it in it's own topic or just delete it altogether?
Thanks.
HH
lmao!! I dunno Rob - it's kinda wild when a thread takes on a life of its own like that. heh.
So there I was the end of my Spring semester of my sophomore year of college winding down. I had one final to go and it had been a GLOOMY week. Well on that Tuesday, Judgement Day for my GPA, I took my Bio-Medical Ethics final. I had nailed it, at least i thought. I felt confident and as I walked from the final th sun started shining, birds started chirping and it seemed all was perfect. Then i rounded a corner and saw the blood splatter everywhere. I thought was there a serial killing whilst i was taking my last final. I come to find out that one of my fraternity brother(also a cigar lover) had taken it upon himself to open my box. I feel bad for the kid, well and the mailman but thats what happens when proper precautions arent taken. I had to rebuild part of the house and go to a funeral but in the end, we all learned a valuable lesson that is backed by Federal Law.......
Tampering with others mail is a Federal Offense!
Thanks for letting me be apart of this PIF....WATCH OUT the Reapers coming! :smiley38:
I love this thread! Rob, have we cycled through the list yet?
Not yet, there are 8 people left on the list. Since the next attack is coming from Canada it takes a little longer then normal. :smiley4:Quote:
Originally Posted by grand cru no 2
Although, the next victum should get hit soon.
Having a peaceful sleep with my goomar, I'm awakened abruptly. A voice calls out, "Head down to your waste management office." In a daze, I ignore it and fall back asleep. The voice calls out again, "Ohhhhh, heeey jag-off, you wanna sleep with the fishes oh what?"
Getting out of bed, I decide to head to the office in my black Cadillac Escalade. My goomar rolls over and says, "Where are you going?" I proclaim, "Fo-get-about-it, go back to sleep."
The office is pitch dark with the moon glowing on a box reading, "OPEN ME." Is someone planning at hit on me or what? Then I remember, "Oh yeah, must be that reaper bastard." Opening the box, I'm pleasantly surprised and decide to smoke one of these beauties on the way home.
The next day Paulie tells me we've hijacked a shipment of quality cigars. Perfect timing as I put the plan in motion to strike the next victim.
Christmas. A beautiful, exciting time of year. Funny how the season’s feelings of peace and expectation can lull one into a false sense of security; a sense that all is well.
Truth be told, there’d been a faint signal, a small warning from the inner voice – the one we drown out with wishful thinking and superficial noise of day-to-day existence. This morning, the voice was louder, demanding my attention, causing me to dig even deeper into the work in front of me, losing myself there and losing track of time.
And time, that counterfeit dimension, suddenly whipcracked itself into my consciousness and laid its snake fingers of foreboding on my shoulder. Suddenly I could barely draw a breath. Lifting my hands from my keyboard, they were visibly shaking. My skin felt tight and frozen, yet sweat had begun to run down my back.
Down the hall, I heard the main door open and close. In another of those cruel tricks of time, many, many moments took slow boats to China before anything further stirred. The voice just outside my door sounded so much like my colleague that I thought he had arrived a full hour before his usual appearance. Relieved that something familiar had finally drawn my awareness back from a yawning abyss of dawning terror, I jumped up and took the few short steps to the hall. Anything left in me within a normal temperature range plummeted through the frozen domain of fear and into the spheres of the calm, quiet awareness of a fate inescapable as I looked into the non-face of the specter before me and heard the words: “Something from the Grim Reaper.”
“Well,” says I to myself, “Mr. Megalomania referring to himself in the third person is no fuckin’ surprise, seein’ as how he has been around for quiet some time spelling doom and finality for every single last mortal soul since Day One.” It gave me an idea. Faster than he could say You’re Next, I ripped open the box shoved it toward him and said, “take your pick, skelatore, you deserve a nice break.” Somewhat disconcerted by my reaction to his, well, menacing presence somehow seems inadequate but will have to do, he, being by now a habituated if not honorary BOTL, gladly grabbed a huge diadema, saying as he stalked away, “this’ll take the Reaper a long, long time.”
I was in the backyard this afternoon cutting some wood. Just put a new blade on the chainsaw and sharpened the ax. Was about halfway through the wood and was stacking it on the rack when the dogs in both of the neighbors yards started barking and growling uncontrollably. Seemed as if they were barking at someone in my yard, but it was not me. They weren't even looking in my direction, they were looking at where the wood was stacked.
I ignored the dogs, figured it was a chipmunk or something. Went inside the house to grab myself a glass of water. That was when I heard the chainsaw start up. I looked out of the window and saw nothing. The chainsaw was now running but still on the floor. I went outside and hit the kill switch. That was when I realized I left my water inside. I went back into the house and got my water.... I heard it again..... chainsaw was running again. I looked out of the window and that was when I saw him. His back was to me and he had my chainsaw in his hands. Ripped clothing and his one legged lookeed as if it had been put on backwards. He was carving something into my picnic table. I grabbed the ax which I left at the door. That was when he heard me. He spun around looked at me and dropped the chainsaw. Then he ran and dissapeared where the wood was stacked. The wood rumbled and shuttered as if it had sucked him in.
I slowly made my way over to the table and noticed something was carved into it..... LOOK FOR THE BOX.... over my shoulder I could hear the wood moving, now I was scared. I still had the ax in my hands. I quickly turned and saw a small white box perched on top of the wood... making my way over to it I could see "The Grim Reaper" written on it. I ripped open the box.... this crazy Son-of-a-bitch has given me a great selection of smokes.
Who could be next ??
As I was biking home the other day, I noticed an old beat up red, white and blue box truck making all the turns I was a few hundred feet behind. I thought nothing of it, the post office normally makes its routes on a similar path I ride. When I got back I paid no more mind of it, went about my usual routine and went to bed.
The next day on my way out to work I noticed the same beat up red, white and blue box truck waiting 100 feet down the street with the engine running. When I hopped on my bike and left, it did the same but in the opposite direction. I thought this could not be a coincidence, they don't start delivering this early. So, I arrived at work and called the post office. They told me one of the old retired guys couldn't let go of the glory days and actually bought himself an old mail truck to drive around his former route. They said I should pay no mind and continue on my business, apparently he does this a lot and they've gotten quite a few calls. Again, I pay no more mind and go about my day.
But, this time on my way home on the bike, the old loon pulls up next to me at a stop sign not far from my place. He asks in an old crotchety voice, "You wanna race son?" Knowing he's just crazy and missing his glory days I agree. I crank it up to 421 watts on the bike and start to fly, but he's keeping pace, after all, I'm on a bicycle and he's in a motor vehicle.
As I make the last couple of turns to get back to the apartment, I notice a funky smell in the air, like a bad burning and chemical smell. I think, it's NYC, this happens, after all, NJ is just across the river. But, as I make the final turn I see it, the south east corner of the building is completely blown up, just gone!!!!!!! As I pull up to see if anybody is hurt, the crazy postman comes ripping back into my reality with an awful cackle. I know he's crazy and probably can't help it, but come on, there could be hurt people in there, I tell him to shut up and go on his way.
The next thing I know he jumps out of the truck throws a cape on and grabs a sickle out of the back!!!!!! He really had gone postal and I couldn't believe it!!!!! I hop back on the bike crank it up to 421 watts and get about half way down the street when I crash over what could only be a fragment of what blew up my apartment, a bunch of tasty smokes from the REAPER!!!!!!!!!!!!!! :smiley15: :smiley15: :smiley15: