David's Hallowe'en Tales o' Terror, Vol. 2

[davywavy]

Today's spine-chiller: I was a Teenage Tory Werewolf!" Suggested by robinbloke. Not recommended for the faint of heart, and the author accepts no liability if you are literally scared to death reading this tale.



The fear began at breakfast.
"Michael?" Said Mother. "Would you like more bacon?" That was the great thing about mum. She made the best breakfasts.
Michael helped himself. He was hungry after the events of the night before. As he reached, Mums eyes widened.
"Michael?" She asked. "What on earth happened to your arm?"
Michael looked down. The bandage he'd put on when he'd got home had started to soak through with a little blood. "Oh. That's just...nothing, mum." He pulled his sleeve down.
"It is not nothing! You're bleeding!"
"It's nothing, mum!"
"Michael, now you tell me what happened!"
Mum was implacable when she was angry, and Michael knew it.
"Well, when we were walking home from the disco last night..."
"Walking? I told you to get the bus! Don't tell me you spent all your money on Coca-Cola again!
"We kinda took a shortcut..."
Mum stiffened. She feared she knew where. "Where!" She demanded.
"Up by the old polling station..."
Mum looked at him, a mixture of anger and concern. "We told you about that, didn't we, your dad and me? There's all kind of crazy talk about the old polling station. Nobody in their right mind goes up there after dark! What happened then?"
"It was crazy, mum! I was walking home with Jimmy, my best pal, when this guy jumped out at me, babbling nonsense...Jimmy ran, but I wasn't fast enough - and then he bit me!"
In her mind, mum was trying to work remember. Had it been a full moon last night? She couldn't remember.
She prayed not.

One month later
"Well, doc, what do you reckon?"
The doctor stood back from the body and covered it with a cloth. What lay beneath it was not pleasant viewing and he didn't want to upset the officer any more than he had to. "It's...unusual", he said.
"Lay it on me, doc."
"The deceased has been subjected to a sustained, merciless and ultimately fatal assault of half-baked economic policies, political posturing, tactical voting and point-scoring in the absence of content."
"What on earth could have done that? It sounds...inhuman!"
I don't know. I just don't know. If I didn't know better..." The doctor stopped and let the words hang.
"If you didn't know better what?"
"If I didn't know better, I'd say that the only thing that could have done this was a Liberal Democrat."
"That's nuts, doc! Everyone knows LibDems are just a crazy legend, aren't they?"
"You'd like to believe so, but sometimes, in the medical community, you hear stories. Awful stories. Stories you wouldn't believe! Sometimes, you hear other doctors, whispering fearfully over their daily scotch. Tales of rent boys in hotel bathrooms, tales of a ruthless dog-eat-dog mentality where the weak are devoured without mercy. Tales of..." The doctor paused, his voice falling as if fearful of what to say next.
"Tales of...?"
"Tales of Menzies Campbell" His voice fell to a hiss.
"That old legend? Surely he never existed! Anyway, even if he did, he's dead, isn't he? Killed?"
"Indeed, but they say he was not struck down by the hand of mortal man - instead, he simply jumped before he was pushed."
The two men looked at one another for a long moment.
"Can't be, doc. Everyone knows LibDems are mythical. I mean, they've never even made a serious dent in the opinion polls. This killing must have been something else. A crazed killer escaped from a sanitorium, perhaps, or a hopped-up beatnik. Everyone knows that Liberal Democrats Never Really Existed." He stressed the words, trying to make himself believe.
"You must be right", said the doc. "You must be." As the policeman turned to leave, the doctor watched him. "I pray you're right", he said to the retreating back.

As the months passed, the death toll rose and a fearful hush fell over the town. One body would be found, smeared with something unspeakable, in a motel bathroom and the next twisted corpse discovered with his eardrums shattered and brain ruptured by the awful, wailing howl of 'Proportional Representation!' which rang out every time the full moon was in the sky.

"It's Michael", said Mum. "It's got to be Michael. Only the other day I found him wearing a tie made of synthetic fibres, and he's stitched leather patches onto the elbows of his jacket. They're the signs, dad. The signs!"
"But what can we do? Surely we're powerless in the face of such ruthless grasping for the moral high ground?"
"It's full moon tonight. We must end this reign of terror, somehow." As mum spoke, the sun sank, unnaturally rapidly, towards the horizon. "It's happening!", she cried.
"But how? It's only two-thirty in the afternoon?"
The door swung open, and Michael walked in. He wore a Marks & Spencer off-the-peg suit with elbow patches, and a tie of a neutral, television friendly colour. "Didn't you know?" he asked. "It's a manifesto pledge to end the travesty of Summer and Winter time!"
"But you can't make day night and night day?"
Michael leaned forward and hissed "We can do anything we like when we're in power! Anything! We can Make black, white. We can
"Those things aren't possible!"
"We can promise anything we like", leered Michael. "We can make black ,white. We can raise more tax by ignoring the Laffer curve. We can create a republic."
Mum and dad recoiled in horror. "Michael! Stop! Please! This is madness!"
"Full participation in Europe! Single tranferable vote! Abolish the Lords! Penny in the pound for schools!"
Dad fell the the ground, blood already coming from his ears. Mum screamed. "Michael! you're killing him!"
"Ambitious for every child! Strong local communities!"
The shrill warbling voice was cut short as the door flew open and Jimmy leapt through. In his hand he held a glittering knife which he sank to the hilt between Michael's shoulderblades.

****

The doctor zipped up the bag. "It's true. He was. A LibDem. Who could have known such horror could truly exist? How did you know it was him, son?"
Jimmy sat, tired. "I looked on his blog and realised that he was just copying and pasting the most popular options of the other two parties the day after opinion polls had shown them to be popular. He had no original ideas of his own at all. That's when I knew it was him, and what I had to do."
"But...how did you know what would kill him?"
"I read the stories of Menzies Cambell, Paddy Ashdown and Charles Kennedy and I knew the only way you can ever truly destroy a Liberal Democrat. He had to be stabbed in the back by his best friend."


****

Michael sat up panting and bathed in sweat. Outside, the full moon shone down on him, but he felt no unnatural urges, no desires to make empty promises for short-term electoral advantage. "It was...a dream? Just a bad dream?" He almost started laughing.
His bedroom door opened. "Michael?" It was mum. "Are you okay?"
"Oh, mum! I had the craziest dream! I was a LibDem! I had terrible, inhuman desires!"
"Michael, don't be silly. Everyone knows that LibDems are just a crazy legend! They don't exist!"
"Gee, mum, I know. It was just so...real."
"Well, it's over now. Get some sleep."
"I will, thanks. Goodnight, mum."
"Goodnight, Michael."
As mum turned out of the room she was careful to hide with her body the copy of the Guardian she was carrying. Michael would know the truth soon enough
For Michael, the true terror was only just beginning.

Comments

[davywavy.livejournal.com]

Why, thank you. I don't suppose you'd remember where I was linked from, do you? I'm flattered, and your f-list is so inordinately huge I could't see it.

[loosechanj.livejournal.com]

Why yes I would: http://reddragdiva.livejournal.com/446737.html

[reddragdiva]

Some of my closest friends are LibDems, sadly.