So far I've posted scifi and fantasy.  Now here's one for you horror fans.  It's called "The Spirit of Drusilla," and it's one of the stories from my book, "Chillers."    Enjoy.

                                                               
Drusilla Murdock strained at her bonds as she surveyed the crowd that gathered to witness her execution.  Among them she spotted  Jonathon Keyes, renowned witch hunter, who had been responsible for her capture and trial.  A white-hot hatred welled up within her as she beheld the man.
 
The witch hunter was moving through the crowd, coming toward her.  He walked up and faced her.

 “You’re the most powerful and evil witch I’ve ever encountered, Drusilla.  You’ve brought misfortune, sickness, and even death to the villagers.  But they need fear you no longer; I’ve managed to bind your spells.
 
 “I know that you’re thinking of revenge, but I’m taking measures to prevent that.  I accept that your spirit may survive the fire, but I have found a way to trap it.  Your ashes will be spread on a bridge to be absorbed by its timbers.  I have blessed the timbers of the bridge so that you will not be able to pass through and escape, thus trapping your soul at the bridge. You will remain there until the bridge itself crumbles.  Your spirit will sleep there for a long time, Drusilla.”

She laughed at him.  “You can trap my spirit for a time, but you cannot kill it because you have not found my secret bane--though I know you have tried.”

“Yes, I’ll admit that.  But I concede that a witch’s bane is nearly impossible to learn--it could be anything from a magpie to a milkweed.  But I promise you, if I knew your bane I would surely use it to destroy your evil soul.”
She knew that the thing that was her bane--the hair of a red dog-- was not to be found in or near the village.  Her smile mocked him.  “Perhaps my bane is rat droppings.  Why don’t you try that?”

She cackled, then screamed as he turned and walked away. "Have you tried the vomit of a cockroach?  A booger from a goat's nose?"
 
As he disappeared into the crowd, Drusilla’s gaze wandered to the nearby bridge where her spirit would be trapped--for a very long time.
Sue Robbins enjoyed hiking.  Today was Saturday, her day off, and it was a  perfect spring day for a hike in the woods.  After breakfast she wrote a note to her mother, who was still asleep, and left it on the kitchen table.  She  strapped on her pack and set out.

She passed the Sorenson's house, and waved at Mrs. Sorenson, who was tending her prized flowers.  She saw Dot Trimble up ahead who was also working in her yard.  She broke into a trot when passing Dot's house.  She did not want to give Dot a chance to start a gossip session.  The woman could talk endlessly about happenings in the little town.  She smiled and waved at the woman and kept jogging until she was out of sight.

  She passed O'Rourke's Tavern and then The Good Shepherd Baptist Church sitting right next door to it.  She  remembered the controversy when the tavern was built, and chuckled inwardly as she thought about  much of the congregation  going to the tavern on Saturday night.
  
She had nearly reached the town limit when she saw a commotion in the ball field off to her left.  Two young boys were laughing and throwing rocks at something.  It was a dog tied to a stake.  She recognized them as the Wilson boys, a pair of troublemakers.  She went out onto the field, and the pair turned and ran when they saw her coming.  They laughed and shouted obscenities as they ran.

Sue untied the dog, a large red mixed breed.  Other than a slightly swollen eye, the dog looked okay.  There was no ID on his collar.  She found some oatmeal cookies in her pack and gave them to the dog.  She turned to go, and the  dog followed her.  She shooed the dog away, hoping that he would go home--if he had one.

Sue continued on her way.  But as she walked along the country road, something began to trouble her--a premonition that some terrible fate was awaiting her.  Death--perhaps something even worse than death--awaited her.  She stopped, turned around, and hurried back toward town.

“Me and my wild imagination.  I’ve worked too hard to overcome my stupid fears to let them rule me now.”
 
She turned around once more, hesitated for a moment, and resolutely resumed her hiking.  She followed route 23 for a mile and then turned off on unpaved Willow Creek Road.  Two miles later she reached Willow Creek Bridge.  As she paused on the ancient bridge, the sky grew dark and the wind picked up.  She felt a few drops of rain.  The weather looked stormy, and she decided to seek shelter.

Doc Peterson, who owned the local pharmacy, kept a hunting and fishing cabin several hundred feet beyond the bridge.  She should make it before the storm hit.

The bridge and the cabin shared a piece of local history.  After the bridge was completed, the leftover timbers were used to build the cabin.  These were the only remaining structures from the old settlement of Willow Creek.
Sue reached the cabin just as the rain started.  She entered the unlocked door to wait out the storm.

The weather grew worse.  Hail pounded on the roof, and the cabin shook as the wind began to roar.  She looked out the window--just in time to see the twister.  The writhing funnel crossed the area where the bridge was located and roared off into the piney woods. Terrified, she watched until the twister was out of sight.

When the weather slackened, she left the cabin and went to check on the bridge. Her fears were confirmed.  The old bridge was completely destroyed.  She noted that Willow Creek was rising and already above its normal level.  Lightning flashed nearby, followed by a loud clap of thunder.  Sue hurried back to the cabin.
The spirit of Drusilla Murdock sensed the approach of the violent storm.  She felt its fury as the old bridge exploded.  The destruction of the bridge set her free; the witch hunter’s bonds were finally broken.  But she was not yet completely free, for she was still a spirit without a body.  She knew what she must do to gain complete freedom--she must seek and possess a body to host her spirit.
Sue returned to the cabin and sat down to organize her thoughts.  With the bridge destroyed, she was stranded.  The creek was narrow, but deep, and she couldn’t swim.   There was no phone in the cabin, and she didn’t pack her own    cell phone.  Her mother worked the four-to-midnight shift at the plant and probably wouldn’t miss her until tomorrow morning.  She had no choice but to spend the night in the cabin.

She searched the cabin, which consisted of one small room and a bathroom.  The room held a small refrigerator, a hot plate, two folding chairs, a card table, and a couch.

Her search produced a kerosene lamp, a box of kitchen matches, a plastic can with kerosene, a hunting knife, and a spy novel.  She found a Diet Pepsi and two granola bars in her pack--at least she wouldn’t go hungry.  She wasn’t into spy novels, but it was something to read.

The storm moved past, but occasional showers and gusts of wind continued.  She tried the light switch.  Nothing.  She was glad Doc Peterson had left the kerosene lamp on hand for emergencies.  She could tolerate just about anything but darkness.  She’d feared the darkness as a child, imagining fearsome demons lurking in the shadows and waiting to pounce on her.  She had never quite outgrown her fears.
 
Darkness fell, and she lit the lamp.  She made herself comfortable on the couch and opened the spy novel.  She would read the novel until she fell asleep.

Midnight came.  Her eyes were weary from reading by the flickering light, but she was not sleepy.  She decided to rest her eyes before finishing the novel.  She leaned back  and let her eyes roam around the room.

The flickering light of the lamp created shadows on the walls that darted around like restless ghosts.  A wind driven tree limb scraped the cabin wall.  Her thoughts drifted to spooky stories about Willow Creek Bridge.  It was said that on some nights an apparition appeared there.

“No time to be thinking of such things, darn it.  So far I’ve managed to keep my stupid imagination in check.  I’d better get back to my reading to keep my mind occupied.” 
The spirit of Drusilla left the bridge and followed the creek until she reached a spot where a small settlement had once existed.  Finding the settlement no longer there, she returned to the bridge.  She then followed the road until she came upon a shack, where she sensed a lone dweller within. She sensed that the dweller was a female. 
The dweller would provide a body to host Drusilla’s spirit.  But when Drusilla attempted to go through the walls she found that she was unable to pass through.
 
These walls, she remembered, were from the same timbers as the bridge, and when the witch hunter blessed those timbers it also affected this cabin. She must entice the dweller to  open the door to her,  thus granting Drusilla the power to spellbind and possess the woman.  With no voice of her own, Drusilla evoked a voice heard only in the dweller’s mind:  “Help me.  Please help me.”
Sue resumed her reading, and after a time she began to feel sleepy.  She nodded, then jerked awake as the book fell from her hands.  As she reached down to pick up the book, she heard a voice.  Startled, she sat up--but then decided the voice was only in her mind.  Her silly imagination at work again.  She leaned back and closed her eyes. 

  Her eyes snapped open as she heard the voice again, this time louder.  A call for help?

  She arose, clutching the hunting knife in her hand as she walked to the door.  Her scalp tingled and chills ran through her body.

“Who’s there?”  Her voice was shrill, a near squeak.

“Help me.  Please.  I need your help.”

It was a woman’s voice.  A gut feeling came over Sue that she must not open the door.  This was not a woman, but a demon posing as a woman, waiting in the shadows to pounce on Sue the instant she opened the door.
 
“There I go again.  My stupid imagination.  The woman may have been injured by the twister. It would be cruel to turn her away.”  She released the bolt and opened the door.

As she stood facing the darkness, she was suddenly overcome with intense fear.  Something terribly evil was there--and this time she knew that it was not her imagination.  She tried to slam the door, but her body would not obey her.  She was horrified as a cold, numb feeling crept through her body.
 
Against her will, she felt her body moving.   Zombie-like she moved toward the couch.  She sat down and stared at the open door, only a few feet away.  She strained every muscle, trying to make a dash for the door.  But her body felt as though it weighed a ton.  She could barely flex her fingers.  Her hand still held the hunting knife, but how could she fight something she could not see?

Sue grew aware that something was happening to her.  Something horrible was entering and taking possession of her body--she felt that her very soul was in danger.  Horrified, she fought against the foul, unclean thing that was invading her body, knowing that her struggle was futile.

As the foul thing invaded her body, its thoughts began to seep into her mind.  She grew aware that the thing possessing her was an evil spirit--the spirit of an evil witch named Drusilla.

She also became aware that she was not the first body to be possessed by Drusilla; there were many before her.  When the possession was complete, Sue would no longer exist.  Her identity, her very psych would cease to be.  Even her body would gradually take on the features of Drusilla.
 
She sat there staring at the darkness through the opened door.  She was now totally paralyzed, unable even to blink her eyes.  Her entire body now felt the freezing cold that had invaded her, even to her fingertips.
She thought she caught a movement at the door.  She could not be sure because her eyes were blurry, and it seemed she was looking into a thick fog. But yes, something was there and it was entering the still open door--an animal?
 
It approached her and she could see enough to make out that it was a dog.  Yes! It was the dog she had seen in the park!  It had followed her after all.  The dog faced her, bared its teeth, and a low growl came from its throat.

  Sue sensed Drusilla’s panic at the sight of the dog;   the witch immediately withdrew.
 
 “Listen to me,” the voice of Drusilla was urgent.  “I cannot allow this dreadful animal near me.  The beast is a bane to me--a threat to my immortal life.  Restrain the beast and I will make a bargain with you.”

Sue felt the numbness leave her body; she could move again.  Her first impulse was to run for the door, but she knew that the witch could regain control of her in an instant.  She went to the dog, knelt down, and held it.
It came to Sue that only a short while ago she was terrified of unseen things waiting in the shadows.  Now that she was actually facing such a horror, she was amazed at the calm that had come over her.

“What is your deal, Drusilla?”

“The only way to counter the bane of a red dog is to spill its blood.  Use the knife in your hand to slay the beast, and in return I will not only release you from my spell and spare your life, but I have the power to grant anything you desire.  You have only to tell me your wish.”

“But you are invisible.  How can the dog harm you when it can’t even see you?   Why don’t you just go away?

“I am not invisible to the dog, and its bane holds me, forbidding me to flee.  Slay it and I will reward you.”

  Sue looked into the trusting eyes of the dog.  “No deal.  I will not harm this dog.  Besides, do you really expect me to believe that you would keep your word?”

“I swear it by the Dark Powers.  I can find another  body to possess.  I vow that you will be granted anything  you wish.  Is this simple creature worth losing all that?”

“I will not harm this dog.”

“You are a fool.  You are only making it difficult for me, but I can force you to do my will.  I will see that you kill the creature, and then I will punish you.

Sue, still holding the dog, tried to release it.  But it was too late--she felt the cold numbness once again as Drusilla regained control of her body.
   
Against her will, Sue moved the hunting knife toward the dog’s throat.  With every ounce of strength in her body, she resisted.  She managed to keep the knife away from the dog’s throat, and for a few moments, she seemed to be holding her own.  But she began to tire, and every muscle, nerve and fiber of her body seemed to desert her all at once.  She collapsed, her body draped over the dog.

Drusilla’s voice was gloating.  “Where is your resistance now, you simple fool?”

Sue felt her unresisting fingers tightening around the hilt of the knife.  Her arm raised, poised to plunge the knife into the dog pinned beneath her body.

But her body was in an awkward position, preventing her arm from reaching the dog.  She felt her body being shifted by Drusilla to gain a better position.  But at the moment her body shifted, she heard the dog snarl and felt it squirm from under her limp form.
  
“No! Nooo...”  Drusilla’s shrieks filled Sue’s mind for a horrible moment--and then silence.  Drusilla was no more.

After a while Sue’s strength began to return.  Painfully, she struggled to her feet.  It was almost daylight now.  Soon her mother would discover her absence, and help would be on the way.

The dog wagged his tail as Sue stroked his head.  “You‘ve got a home now, Red.  We’ve been thinking of getting a dog, and you’ll do just fine.”

Sue and Red settled down to wait for the rescuers.








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The Good Samaritan Sgt.

Ft. Hood, Texas, the 1960's.  My wife and I could barely make it from paycheck to paycheck during the 60's.  Military pay was at one of its lowest points during that period.  So when I heard that one of the service clubs on post was looking for a part-time employee, I applied.  They hired only active military as part-time assistants to the service club hostesses.
Service clubs were a great place for GI's then.  When GI's were broke and had no place to go, there was the service club.  There were game rooms with pool tables, ping pong, etc.  Music rooms.  Free coffee and doughnuts on Sunday mornings.  GI's could check out everything from cards and checkers to guitars and saxes, and go to practice rooms and practice playing to their heart's content.  Dances were held about once a month, and were very popular.

I was accepted.  I had to work weekends and holidays and didn't get home til after 10:00 PM on most days.  The pay was minimum wage, but it helped us a bunch.

During Christmas season, we had a free gift-wrapping service for GI's.  This was popular and there was always long lines.  One day a sergeant approached the hostess and offered to volunteer his services. He showed her that he was good at gift wrapping and she gladly accepted.  He was given a table in one of the back rooms, and when the lines got too long, soldiers were sent back to the sergeant.

The hostess marveled at how generous the sergeant was to volunteer to help out.  But a few days later, a GI had a gift wrapped and handed the hostess fifty cents.  She refused, of course, and told him it was free.  The soldier remarked that he had previously had a gift wrapped by the sergeant in back and was charged fifty cents.

The hostess immediately sent the sergeant on his way.  But that just goes to show you that the army will always have its "Sgt Bilkos."

For those who don't know, "Sgt Bilko" was a TV sitcom starring Phil Silvers.  Bilko was a conniving-but-lovable Sgt always coming up with schemes.  His nemesis was a Colonel. who was always frustrated.

From Terrific Tales of Sci-fi and Space Opera

He crawled into the window, crouched, and pushed off with his legs.  He landed on top of the rubble, but his feet slipped and he tumbled down the side of the pile.  His wounded shoulder struck a jagged chunk of concrete.  He felt pain as the tender wound ripped open.
He heard footsteps as he struggled to his feet, and saw that the robots were almost upon him.  He drew his pulser; at least he would go down fighting.

“Stop!  Do not harm him,” one of the robots shouted.  “He is human.  He is bleeding.”

“Yes,” said another, “robotic law demands that we help him.”

Jay recalled that a twentieth century scientist proposed the robotic law even before the first robot was designed.  The law would be permanently programmed into all robot’s circuits.  The gist of the law was that robots must serve, obey, and help humans in every way possible.

As the robots came to his aid, one of them went haywire.  It fell to the ground, kicking and flailing its arms.  Smoke curled up from the robot, and after a few moments it was still.

“Beta-Four-Two caused your shoulder injury,” a robot told him.  “Its circuitry could not stand the shock of learning that you are human.”

The robots led him to a building where other robots were gathered.  Some were dismantled while other robots performed maintenance on them, some were repairing weapons, and others were simply idle, doing nothing.
One of the robots was a medical tech, and Jay was amazed when it produced a container from within its body and sprayed his shoulder wound.  The spray felt soothing, and within moments it solidified into a thin bandage.

“The bandage contains pain killers and antibiotics,” the tech told him.  “As the wound heals, the bandage will fall away.”

A robot classified as a domestic prepared a stew of meat and plants.  He did not want to ask what the ingredients were, but the stew was savory--and his first real food in two thousand years.  He was beginning to feel better.

“I have been away from Earth for a long time,” Jay told the robots.  “I want to ask you some questions.”
A robot with DZ8 on its breastplate stepped forward.  I am Delta Zulu Eight, leader of this group.  I will answer your questions,” it said in its metallic voice.  “Humans find it easy to simply call me Dizzy.”

“First, I’d like to know what happened to all the people on Earth, Dizzy.  Where are they?”

“Twelve hundred years ago,” Dizzy began, “people learned that a giant comet was on course for Earth.  Attempts to stop it only succeeded in breaking it up into smaller, but still lethal chunks.  There was no time to stop the remaining chunks, so most people fled to Diana.”

Diana!  That meant the planet that he and Calvin intended to explore was indeed habitable.  He continued to question Dizzy.

The robot continued.  “The colonization of Diana had already started a century before the comet was discovered.  Hibernation--used in your time-- was no longer needed to travel to Diana.  A space-time warp field, or wormhole, between Sol and Alpha Centauri was discovered, and by shooting through the wormhole, the journey could be made in months.  Most people went to Diana, but a few went to Mars, where a dozen terradomes had been constructed over an underground Martian lake.  I was one of the robots used in the construction of the terradomes.”

“Did anyone remain behind?”  Jay asked.

“Many remained.  There were some who could not escape in time, some remained by choice, and some simply refused to believe that Earth would be hit.  I do not know if any of them survived.  The destruction was great, but I do not believe that it was as great as predicted.  A few animals survived.”

“Has anyone from Mars or Diana ever returned to see what happened?”

“None.  The wormhole between Earth and Diana has probably disappeared.  Wormholes are fairly common in space, but are short-lived.  The one to Diana was shrinking at a rapid rate.  Those who fled to Diana are there to stay.”

“What of the Mars colony?”

“We have heard nothing from them.”

“What of the robots and androids?”

“None were taken.  The ships were packed with Humans. Many of us perished when the comet chunks hit, but there are still pockets of robots and androids scattered around the world.”

“Why the animosity between you and the androids?”

“Androids think of themselves as closer to humans, and seek to subjugate us.  In reality, they are different from us in appearance only.”

“An order from me should keep them in check.  Tell me how to contact them, and I’ll deal with them.”

“Yes, when they see you are human, they will have no choice but to obey your orders. I will direct you to their site.”

It occurred to Jay that the robots did not immediately recognize him as human, but only after they saw him bleed. 

“Suppose they don’t believe I’m human, or think I’m some sort of robot trick.  Must I cut myself to prove I’m human?”

“That won’t be necessary,” Dizzy replied.  “They have no breath.  You can prove you are human by blowing on something, such as a flame or a blade of grass.  Also, they have no reproductive parts.  You could convince them by displaying those parts.”

Jay chuckled.  “I’ll use the breath method.  I have one more question.  I was attacked by a giant creature as I waded at the seashore.  I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Many strange creatures were brought to Earth from Diana.  The creatures were kept in captivity, but were released, along with other animals, just before the humans left Earth.  Many were killed by the comet fragments, but some survived.  The alien creatures, as well as the native creatures, are increasing rapidly in number.”

Speaking of the creature reminded Jay of the beating his body had taken in his struggle with the monster.  He was suddenly very tired.  The domestic robot somehow found material to make a pallet.  He heard thunder outside, and then the drumming of rain.  It was the last sound he heard before drifting off to sleep.

The next morning, Dizzy and two other robots accompanied Jay to a point near the android site.

“We will not go farther unless you order it.  Our presence will trigger a battle, and you could be injured or killed.”

Jay agreed and went on alone.  After walking about ten minutes, he spotted a group coming to meet him, weapons drawn.  He raised his hands.

As the group approached, he suddenly heard a deafening bellow behind him.  he turned to see a huge creature charging him.  Its body was like a huge bear, but its head  resembled that of a large lizard.  His hand went for his pulser as he backed away from the creature, but his foot became entangled in a vine and he fell backward.  He tried to clear the pulser from the holster, but knew that he would not draw it in time.