And When the Bell Tolls…

Introduction- “Damn You All to Hell!”

“Damn you all to hell!” I said, and I’ll say it all again. “Damn you all to hell!!!” As they strung me up, I pleaded. “Don’t do this you horrible bastards! Don’t do this! I can do better! I’ll do better!” Then the black bag went over my head, and I seized up right there on the spot. My legs almost fell out from under me. I took a few deep breaths knowing they could be my last. I could not see! I hated that! I could not breathe, and I wondered what I had done to deserve such a death. Then they dosed me with adrenaline to make me squirm- the bastards!!!

”Take him up!” Ordered the bastard to my right.

“Ah! Ah!” I cried as I knew what happened next.

The crane lifted me up. Asphyxiation! I kicked my legs in the air. Then it happened. Death! My name was Baptiste! I was the Keeper of the Bells. Now, who’s going to guard them? Who?!

Part One- Clarice!

“Oh, my God!” Shouted Clarice, as she woke up breathless. “He’s here! I’m frightened!” But French did not budge. “French! He’s here!” Then Baptiste said from the fireplace of their crummy hotel room.

“Ah! A friendly?! Will you play with me, please? You’re pretty! Pretty, please! Play with me!!!” He bounced a rubber ball at Clarice, but it disappeared before it hit her right in the face, and, with a laugh, he disappeared, too. POOF!

“French!!!” shouted Clarice, and French was totally dead asleep.

Part Two- “I Know What I Saw!”

“I know what I saw!” shouted Clarice at French who looked dumbfounded and stupefied. 

“I told you before- I had sleep paralysis!” said French.

“That laugh! Did you hear it?! Oh, dear God. That laugh!” she cried. It would stick with her forever.

“I’m just as surprised as you are! Baptiste! You saw him! I believe all of the folklore, too!” French exclaimed. “He climbs down your fireplace wanting to play paddleball. The protector of something, isn’t he?”

”You don’t understand. I saw him. I saw him! He wanted to play… paddleball.”

Note- French did not do germs at all. He brought his own bedspread that he hand cleaned himself.

The bedspread was stunning- immaculate even. It reminded Clarice of her grandmother’s handmade, wool quilts she would break her back constructing. Beautiful quilts of gothic designs. Deep purples, and patches that had colors Clarice had never seen before. 

“Did you dye this yourself for your grandmother?” she asked French as she ran her hands over it- smoothing it out. Clarice was mad talented. French was not. He was an odd one, and on some days- he would go out towards the cliff side and ring the bell, which sometimes signaled sheep to run and jump off of it to their deaths. It was a simple death. Quick. Their brains never comprehended the situation. When they hit the rocks- their bodies always washed up on the shore, and French would go down, and get them, clean them, shear them, and tell them he was sorry for it was not his fault for the bell was meant for if the dogs grew too violent- they were trained to jump off the cliff, but Betsy, the sheep- jumped instead this time. It was only just her. Betsy always smiled, and as she dropped, I swear she let out a-

“WHEEEE!” on her way down. Giddy- that sheep never had an exciting moment in her life until now. Then SPLAT!

French would dye the wool purple as a gift for Clarice. Perhaps Clarice would create some mittens and socks.

Part Three- The Bell of Hell. It Rings- You Die!

Cursed in a land far away- the handmade bell made it from one hand of power to the next. You give it one solid ring- then death followed! It could be you! It could be me! Or, it could be everybody!

On a cold, rainy night that happened to be Mitch’s tenth birthday, his father threw open the front door, and as he stood in the doorway, he said,

”Mitch, come forth!” And he did. This was back when his father presented him with the bell. The bell of secrets. The bell of hell. “From now on it is up to you to keep it safe. Not a sound it can make for if it does, and the word of power- the word of evil- is uttered- death!” He handed over the cursed bell to Mitch. “Remember this, son, if the word is spoken when the bell rings- death!”

”What is this word, father?” Young Mitch asked.

”Wish. As in, I wish you a happier life than mine was.” With that said, Mitch swung the bell around and around screaming,

“Wish! Wish! Wish! I have the bell of power!” And just like that- his father fell down dead. “Oh, no! I was just playing!” And his screams of grief were heard from miles away. He did not mean to kill him. Oh, it was a terrible accident.

Part Four- SLAP!

French slapped Clarice for not cleaning the basin. 

“It must be scrubbed. I use oily skin conditioners. See the buildup?! Now, scrub!” And Clarice scrubbed hard as if her life depended on it. She was not a fan of getting hit, but she also understood that sometimes she had it coming. If the bathroom was not left clean, in these days- they would fine you! And if you could not pay up- there were other ways to pay.

Clarice was a reader stationed mostly in the spooky section at the local library where she did as she was told with her head down.

“Read to the little shits. Keep them from crying. Be animated! Be robust with energy, so much so that their parents watching will despise you as they shall be expected to keep up with your horrific, over-the-top, cracked-out energy once they get their kids home. See, we don’t want them to come back. No, we don’t. These government programs with the free hotdogs, sodas and snacks- they don’t get us anywhere. They’re just so local political figures can campaign at a safe place.” Then Mitch took a deep breath. “If only we could just off them all.” He chuckled.

“Umm, what?” asked Clarice.

”You take the skinny ones. The fat ones- I’d like to chase.” He giggled. “Just kidding. Let’s talk about, “Lorna Was A Goose!” And her big, ol’ caboose!” He chuckled again, and an idea had sparked with Clarice, and she grew a great big grin.

Part Five- Excitement All Around You!

“French?!” said Clarice as she threw open the bedroom door. He lay on the bed, and she jumped right on top of him. “Hear me out. Now, I don’t wanna hurt all the little ones, but, well, some people just are waiting for a way out, and if I can give it to them, maybe we could help them get to a more peaceful place. What do you think? Oh, just say yes… Do it with me. One by one. A shot here. A shot there… Mitch will be there.”

“Are you joking?” French responded. She hesitated, and she declined to continue to converse with him for two whole minutes. She stared at him without even blinking. Then he said,

“Okay. Yeah, I’ll do it.”

Part Six- An Impulse Beyond Her Control!

As Clarice loaded her Glock, she said as she looked in the mirror,

 “My, oh my! I do wonder what would happen if I poked the barrel right into Mitch’s back, and said, ‘My, oh my! What are you gonna do now?!”

Part Seven- The Bell Had Been Lost, and Mitch Yearned for It.

Sad, Mitch, the guy most turned to at the library, urged caution as the Christmas special was going to be huge. The bells were always the centerpiece of the celebration. The Bellionaires always performed beautifully. Where could it be?! He thought. It’s mine! For he, and only he could manipulate the wicked spell that was cast upon it. He held the secrets. He prayed first. Then he got down to business for if the right word was spoken as the bell rang a solid ring- death to someone in the audience!

Part Eight- “Wish.”

The song- “The Bristol Christ,” by Brenda Wootten played almost piercingly over the screechy speakers at the library Christmas celebration. Accompanied by The Bellionaires- the song gave the congregation peace, and they all joined in with great singing.

The word of power was, “Wish,” and as it was sung the first time- Sweet Sasha, who always gave up her seat to the elderly while she would stand in the back, heard the most beautiful sounding bell hit a note of perfection, then she fell down hitting her head on a pew on her way down to the cheap, thin carpet. A puddle of blood formed around her head, and no one noticed her dead till after the service. 

The second time, “Wish,” was sung, Mitch felt a flutter in his chest, then a man who was about to enter the baptismal waters fell into the tank headfirst just before he was blessed. Dead! When he asked God if he could enter into Heaven, God said,

”No entry.”

Someone rang that bell! It’s here somewhere! I know it! Thought Mitch for it had been rung at just the right time.

Wish!!!

But with forty women on stage playing the bells, which bell could it be?

Part Nine- The Service and the Surprise!

Stationed behind the library's large bushes,

 “I gotta pee. Sorry!” whispered Clarice.

“No! We’re near the end of the service. We take them from this side.” French said. “Then we sweep them towards the fence, and showtime! BANG! Good times, love!”

”Oh, thanks for being here with me, baby! You know how I get bored.”

”Baby, don’t call me baby.”

The service had ended, and the automatic doors flew wide open then- SHOT!

”Dammit, bro,” Clarice punched French’s left clavicle, “what happened to the plan?!”

”My hand cramped up. My bad.”

Part Ten- Mitch Again.

Mitch stared at the ugly wallpaper in his office that had never appealed to anyone, but the original decorator who loved pink and gold. A library with pink and gold?! Kinda gay, huh? He thought. He began to peel at it hard. Ripping sheet after sheet down. The owner would be pissed, but he could not take it anymore. It caused him anxiety, and to feel like the walls were closing in on him. As he ripped down the paper- SHOT!

He thought he heard something, and he raced to the auditorium. Everyone was leaving in quite a hurry. The stage was now empty.

“The bell!” he said. He ran up onto the stage, and started ringing them one by one.

Part Eleven- French, and Clarice Run Mad Crazy!

SHOT! SHOT!… SHOT! 

There was another, and another, and Clarice was surprisingly thrilled with it all, then she heard bells ringing from the auditorium. As patrons vanished, some fool still rang the bells. Clarice shot one patron in the leg, another in the back, and one bullet went into the groin of a man who was confined to a wheelchair. Then she saw Mitch! The bells sounded so perfect as Mitch frantically shook each one saying,

“Wish,” out loud. “Wish! Wish! Wish! Wish! Wish!” he shouted as he rang bell after bell, but nothing worked. All of the bells looked the same, yet Mitch knew it was there. He just knew it. He had to kill the two gunmen- French and Clarice, and when he saw Clarice smiling at him with her gun, he said, “Oh, shit.” And she shot him dead before he could figure out which was the cursed bell, and then she became unglued. She kicked at his corpse,

”Hey! My, oh my! What are you gonna do now?! Huh?! Overtime to the MAX! No incentives! Nothing?! Read this shitty book to these little shits! That’s all I do! And, yes! They worship me and my perfect voice. Lorna Was A Goose! Remember that one?! Huh?! I wrote it myself, and you know what? It was pretty damn good.” Now, Clarice began to get emotional. “Take what you got- you- you- you…”

“Yo, he’s dead, yo.” said French, and she kicked Mitch again.

Part Twelve- Cleared Out!

With the library cleared out, Clarice went up on the stage.  

“Babe, what are you doing?!” asked French. 

“I’m thinking about singing.” Then she picked up a bell, and a microphone where she sang part of, “The Bristol Christ,” a song she had learned a long time ago, and when she played those bells- she did awesome, but then she sang the word, “Wish,” and to French’s surprise, she dropped dead on the table as she had rang a solid ring with the cursed bell. Yes, there was blood spurting as she had rammed her damn forehead right on top of the bell in her collapse. Then as she fell to the floor- she caused the bell to make one more solid ring as French said,

“God, I wish this…” Then- French died, too.

Part Thirteen- Paddleball.

Baptiste cried from the beyond as he had so hoped they would be the new Keepers of the Bells. I guess it was onto the next possibilities. Perhaps they would like paddleball?! Paddleball was fun! Who did not like a fierce paddleball game?!

Part Fourteen- The Bells for Christ!

Soon, the bells were to be guarded by a new candidate till the end of time when angels would play them before the Lord, Himself, as He snuffed out the damned souls into the lake of fire, thus ending their everlasting existence!