Curse of the
By Jerry Payne
Frank had been fired from US Armored Car Service when over
$500,000 went missing. They could not pin it on him, even though his partner
disappeared after a shootout with the FBI.
Premiere Marketing in San Francisco had decided to take a
chance on Frank, hiring him as Vice President of Sales. He spent a lot of time
at his office in the City, thus neglecting his wife. He had brought his family
to California from New York, trading one big city for another. Instead of
overlooking the Hudson, he now had a view of Alcatraz in San Francisco Bay.
When his boss was destroyed in court because of a corrupt judge,
Frank was right there to offer solutions to this life-changing atrocity; but
there was nothing their attorneys could do to stop the damage to their company.
Frank had to think outside the box and, in so doing, decided to get dirty and
hurt somebody. Most of the suggestions from others were about how to minimize
the damages, but not Frank’s. He was all about revenge and taking them down
and making them pay in blood for filing the lawsuit
in the first place—the result of his last job’s experience.
“Hey Frank, you know I don’t like it when you talk that way;
take it down a couple notches,” his boss said.
The next day Frank had a sales appointment in a shady area
of the city. He was a little apprehensive to even go, but they were really
interested in the product and seemed ready to sign a contract, so it was
imperative. Frank had driven for 20 minutes and turned right on 7th
street where the company was. As he turned towards the curb to park, a truck
was backing up and backed right into his bumper, hard. He got out of his
car and walked towards the truck; two guys got out and walked toward Frank.
A box had fallen out of the truck onto his hood; the
contents were candles, and several rolled into the street. The car behind Frank
swerved to miss the candles and rammed right into Frank’s door, just missing
him. He was getting really pissed off as he looked at his car, now dinged in
both the front and side. As the two from the truck approached him, he
challenged, “What the hell where you clowns thinking?”
“Did you call us clowns,
“Yes, I did, and I want you assholes to get those candles
off my car, and give me your insurance information,” said Frank, taking his
The taller one said quietly, “I’m not gonna take your
shit,” and pulled a knife out of his coat.
Frank grabbed his jacket and wrapped it around his arm, “Come
on, you bastards! Let’s see what you got.”
The driver of the other vehicle that had hit Frank was
watching and listening, and said, “Okay, guys, let’s back up and tone it down.”
He approached them dressed in his police uniform; off duty, he was now part of
The three others, seeing that he was a cop, backed up. The
knife vanished. The cop was able to take care of the mess and get everybody on
their way. Frank was still pissed off as he put his jacket back on and got out
his briefcase for his meeting.
The customers signed the contract for their 150 employees, leaving
Frank feeling better, though still mad. He asked around for suggestions of a
place to get the drink he really needed and some lunch. He was directed to
Mary’s down by the bus terminal. Taking the advice, he headed to Mary’s for
that drink and many more.
At the bar Frank asked for his favorite cocktail and sat
there enjoying his first sips while he looked over the menu. Frank asked, “Hey,
barkeep, what is the lunch special today?”
“Bacon cheeseburger on an English muffin,” the barkeep
“That sounds good; put me in for one, and bring me another
Frank glanced over at the older gentleman sitting one bench
away from him and nodded a hello when the gentleman looked over at Frank.
“My name is Bob. Haven’t seen you in here before. You new
Frank, sipping on his drink, answered, “I had a business
appointment around the corner and came here for some lunch and quiet time.”
Frank kept thinking about those damn candles that had caused the police officer
to crash into his door.
Old Bob continued, “We don’t get many strangers in here; it
seems that people would rather go elsewhere.”
Frank, with an inquisitive look on his face, asked, “What
are you talking about, old man; is this place haunted or something?”
“Don’t laugh, you might be right.”
“What the hell are you talking about? I think you probably
have had too many of whatever you’re drinking.”
The oldster replied, “Wait a few minutes and you’ll see our
resident witch come in for her afternoon drink.”
Frank came back at him with, “A witch? I don’t believe in
them or what they say they can do.”
“When she comes in, sit down and talk to her; it won’t take
long for you to start to believe, and tell her about the candles”
“I’ve heard enough of your crap, and how did you know about
the candles? I didn’t mention them. What the hell is going on here? Just let me
finish my lunch”
Frank sat there and finished his cheeseburger, and was just
wiping his face when the old man next to him hit him on the shoulder, “She just
came in; go and talk to her. You’ll see.”
With a couple of drinks under his belt, Frank got up from
his bar stool and looked over to where the ‘witch’ was sitting, trying to see
if she looked different or weird. He walked to her table and introduced himself,
almost ready to add, “Let me tell you about what happened to me.”
This lady in her late forties sat there at the table with a
shawl over her shoulders and a pair of dark sunglasses covering her eyes. “Sit
down. What is your name?”
“My name is Frank. What do you do as a witch, if I may ask?”
He was feeling uneasy about his question.
The witch, obviously feeling very comfortable, said, “There
are so many things I do, like help people who have a problem and don’t know
what to do. I can get involved and put together a plan to help them.”
“Okay, you help people; I did not know that.”
“Well, now you know. Do you have a problem I can help you
with?” she said with a smile.
Frank was getting interested, but not there yet, “No, I
don’t think so.” He wasn’t ready to tell her about the candles and accident. He
decided instead to address the big problem at work. “Too bad my boss isn’t here;
he is the one who needs your help, but I think he is more interested in
The witch, looking into his eyes, said, “Revenge is my
specialty; tell me about your boss.”
Frank beckoned the waitress over to the table and ordered a
double. “Well, just recently he had a lawsuit filed against his company. The
filers should never have had a chance to win, but the judge sided with them. Now
it looks like he might lose his company; he really is pissed off, and wants to
“Well, Frank, I might just have the solution for you. Are
Frank with a few drinks in him, agreed, “Yes, yes, I am
interested; we need to get those bastards, and make them pay. What do you
The witch, now looking very serious, said, “For this
scenario I recommend the Curse of the Candles; this should give you all that
Frank just about dropped his drink. “What the hell did you
“Yes, Frank, I said candles; just do as I say, and you will
no longer have any problem.”
Frank sat there with a blank stare on his face. Then he and
the witch spent the next hour going over the details, which entailed putting
black candles in the company offices (only after putting the grave dirt she
gave him from the cemetery around the wick) and then lighting the candles at
the stroke of midnight with a wooden match. There was also a white candle which
would go in the boss’s office to keep bad spirits away from him. By putting the
black candles throughout the offices, they would be able to spit at and curse (sending
bad energy to) those who they sought revenge upon.
Frank drove home with the candles and all the instructions
he’d received, excited to get this process started and to see the damage it would
do to those who tried to hurt his company. The next morning, he sat down with
his boss and explained all that he had learned and that this was the
opportunity to get the revenge that they had talked about. It did not take long
to convince his boss, who was for anything that would make him feel better.
With the approval he was seeking, Frank proceeded to put the black candles
around the offices and put the white candle in the boss’s office, just as he
was instructed. Now all he had to do was wait...
A few days had gone by, and Frank was at his favorite
watering hole, liquoring up before heading home. However, this afternoon he was
approached by one of the waitresses who was now off work. They sat there at the
bar exchanging laughter and getting chummy. It was time for Frank to make his
move, since he only had so much time until he had to be with his family. He had
told her about the candles in his office and invited her to go there to see
what he kept talking about.
The office was empty of all staff, and Frank was showing
off his new toy that would destroy people. They ventured into his office and to
his couch where they made themselves comfortable. It did not take long until
there was clothing on the floor. As Frank was getting his pleasure, he watched
the black candle on the desk, and could not take his eyes from it. He kept
rocking back and forth as if in a trance.
The young waitress was enjoying the rocking as she lay
under this big man. She could not see his face, and it seemed like such a long
time of rocking back and forth; now done with the pleasure, she wondered when
he was going to get his. Back and forth he went, saying nothing; she was
getting concerned because this had never happened before.
Wanting to see his face, she asked, “Frank, are you done,
or do you want more; talk to me?”
There was no answer, and this was getting too weird for her.
“Frank, please get off me. I need to get up. You are not answering me, so
please get off.”
Still no answer! She started to push him off, pushing
harder as she started to get scared. “I mean it! Get the hell off of me, you
bastard!” She started to cry—pushing to no avail—tears running down her cheeks.
Frank, still looking at the black candle and rocking back
and forth, slipped back to see the scared little girl. As Frank moved down, she
could see his face, eyes now swollen—blood red and fiery. Pure horror overtook
She screamed for him to get off, to no avail; he still had
his hands and arms on the couch. Frank, entranced, stared into her eyes and,
without changing expression, moved his hands to her throat, and rocked back and
Screaming and crying, with all her strength she grabbed his
hands and arms, trying to release the grip around her neck. The grip grew
stronger as he continued to rock faster and her screaming got louder.
Frank acted like he did not hear her, just staring into her
eyes and mumbling under his breath, as he choked her and moved faster. Totally
out of control, choking her as she fought to the last second, Frank slammed
into her, relieving himself at her last breath.
The lifeless woman underneath him, Frank rolled to the
right to get off her. With his pants down to his knees, he struggled to pull
them back up. Pulling on his belt, his hand slipped and hit the black candle,
knocking it onto the couch, where it rolled under his pants as he sat there.
With hot flaming wax on the floor the flames rose, burning the
pants Frank struggled to get off. Trapped in pants totally engulfed, he looked
to the ceiling and let out a gut-wrenching scream. Flames fed off the flesh of
both legs, consuming all below his waist. He spasmed in pain and grabbed at the
edge of the couch with his left hand as he slowly melted to the floor, only to pull
the waitress’s body on top of his, her knee crashing into his skull. They
disappeared into a fiery grave as the black candle continued to burn brightly.
Jerry Payne, firstname.lastname@example.org, who wrote
BP #90’s tale, “Curse of the
Candles,” has written two novels, owned his own corporations, and experienced
his own demons. A mixture of past experiences and witty storytelling gives the
reader a wanted read. In “Curse…” a corporate executive introduces an
out-of-the-box solution, obtained via a witch he met at a bar, against a
competitor. The black magic he expected to destroy the enemy has backfired.
Family and friends will be affected, but not as he intended.