Slither On Gutter Snake Soul Snatchin Demon - Short Story - by Edgar Rider

 

Slither On Gutter Snake Soul Snatchin Demon

Short Story 

by Edgar Rider

My roommate Carrie Kipling had a knack for sitting in a room for 45 minutes or longer ranting and raving about her friends and boyfriends.

She had one boyfriend in particular that caused turmoil in her life, His name was Calvin,

He came over in different outfits sometimes a suit and other times jeans tshirt and ballcap

He used her for money and rides and came over quite often

He had other women on the side. He would come over and apologize and do it all over again.

I told her the next time he comes over he will give you gifts and cry to you.

Sure enough the next time he tried to shower her with gifts and affection.

I told her he would cry to her and beg forgiveness. Within days he was on his hands and knees saying he was devoted only to her.

This type strategy seemed to be textbook in the Player Rule book #79.

Sledgehammer Promos

It got to a breaking point where Carrie Kipling would grab a sledgehammer from the front room and say, “ the next time Calvin comes over I’m going to use this. So go on. Slither on Gutter snake Soul Snatchin Demon.You aint nothin but a player. User. Abuser. Womanizer. I will bash your head in. Hit you where it hurts. That two inch thing you got! Slither on!”

She started talking about her other friends with the sledgehammer. “The next time Helen comes over I got something for her. She had a penchant for talking about her innermost circle of friends in the most backhanded way. She was willing to double cross them as they had done to her.

Keep your enemies closer and your cohorts even closer.

Finally she saw Calvin for what he was. One morning she chased him out of the house in a leopard skin nighty. That fit in all the wrong places. I wish I could have pushed an Unsee button to unsee it.

Who would taste the wrong end of the sledgehammer?

It would not be Calvin for that guttersnake had slithered out of her life. That one demon had snatched her breath for the last time. There were other soul suckers. It was odd that the snakes and demons in her life were part of her closest inner circle.

She swung the sledgehammer around landing a few finches from my feet.. “Helen thinks she so much better working for an art gallery. Bitch don’t know. I will crack her in the head. And say ‘by bitch deuces.”

She gave these what I would call sledgehammer promos that would make professional wrestlers blush.

Her ring was her living room.

“The next time they come over!” She would rub the metal head of the sledgehammer. “They going to get theirs!”

As she twirled the sledgehammer around and around towards my chest within inches she continued, “The next time. The next time!”

I stared at the metal part of the sledgehammer. It came within centimetres of my face. She continued, grimaced and then put the sledgehammer back on the wall.

It was then that I realized this sometimes sweet unassuming lady had a darkside within her.

When would it surface again and who would be the recipient of her wrath?

I was neither a demon or a snake I had helped her numerous times expecting nothing in return.

But would tomorrow be the day that she would see me as one?

Edgar Rider has appeared in Fevers of the Mind, Criterion International Journal, Existere, Jake Anti-literary Magazine and Scarlet Leaf Review.

He has published three books GO Bare Maximum, Transcending in The Fictional Burnout, and 5990.