CacheCrazy.Com: Slaughter House

Monday, October 22, 2012

Slaughter House

Slaughter House
There was something odd in the tone of the dispatcher’s voice when he called to tell me a person needed to be picked up at Swetland St. late one summer night in 1947.

I shuddered when I heard the name of the street. I did not want to go anywhere near that area, especially at midnight. But I drove a
Yellow Cab and it was my job to pick up a call when it came. So I swallowed and headed toward the slaughter House on Swetland St.
I’d been out of town when “the incident” happened. I call it an incident, but it was murder, plain and not so simple.

A fellow by the name of Smith who drove a cab with our company was robbed and stabbed to death in his cab. A man named Mark Gold was picked up by the police the very next day and was put in jail for the crime, although he denied doing it.

Then a bunch of hotheads who drove cabs for our company gathered together, passed around a bottle of whiskey, and started talking about “getting” the fellow who had stabbed Smith. One of the men went out and borrowed a shotgun, and the mob drove to the jail. They grabbed Mark and threw him in the back of one of the cabs.

The hotheads took him to the slaughter House and they dragged Mark forcibly from the cab and started beating him. A man pulled a knife and waded into the mob with it, and Mark shouted: “Lord, you’re killing me!”
That’s when the fellow with the shotgun put a bullet in Marks' head, reloaded, and shot him twice more. When the mob was sure he was dead, they climbed back into their separate cabs and fanned out, each heading back to the city by a different route. Eventually word got out and thirty-one fellows were arrested for the crime. But they were all acquitted by a jury of their peers.

After the incident, the slaughterhouse section of Swetland St got a bad reputation. No one in the cab company much liked driving there, especially at night. Folks claimed it was haunted by the ghost of Mark Gold. I shivered as I pulled onto Swetland St and slowed down to look for my passenger.
I parked the cab and got out to have a quick smoke while I waited. All at once, the temperature around me plummeted. I froze in place, suddenly terrified, as someone moaned in terror from the other side of the road.

The sound scraped my nerves raw. I could hear the unmistakable thud of hammering fists and the darkness was filled with swirling black silhouettes pounding on something...or someone.

I fumbled for the icy-cold door handle as a man shouted agony: “Lord, you’re killing me!” I threw myself inside the cab as a gun exploded, cutting off the man’s cries. The shot was swiftly followed by two more. I squealed the tires as I spun the cab around. A tall, battered figure glowed just enough for me to see its lolling head.

The blood-stained dead features,and the knife-torn clothes blocked the road in front of me. I gasped, floored the gas pedal and swerved around it, heart hammering so hard it hurt my ribs. I was still trembling when slammed into the office a few minutes later and told the dispatcher I was quitting. Then I grabbed my things and headed for home lickety split. There was no way I was going to Swetland St ever again.
The End
written by: Kyle Powell 


Heather Cook (Lady-Magpie) said...

First one read and that has certainly made me think about cabs, not going in any again.

CrazyCris said...

I'm sure cab drivers have many parts of various cities they'd rather not have to drive in... the ghostly flourish is good! :o)

Kim@Snug Harbor said...

Good story. I liked it because it made me wonder if it was true or not.


Kyle's imagination translates both in this story and his crazy geocache hides. No one does it like Nishollow! Thanks for the contribution and congrats on being in the top ten!
Nice work!

BigAl said...

Where I use to live in NY had a pig slaughter house in the backyard. It was really eerie. That is where I ran my taxidermy shop. Creepy. Loved the story. congrats on being in the top ten.

kyle powell said...

thank you evryone.

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