Happy New Year, everyone!
Surprised to see me? I bet you are!
I’ve been wanting to start my blog up again and what better time then the new year? I’ve been warning a few people for quite some time now that I was going to start writing on my blog again. Now here I am!
There’s going to be a few changes to the blog. Nothing major. I’m just going to focus more on why I started this labor of love six years ago. Writing. Stories. Imagination. Fun.
As you might have noticed I’ve changed the title of the blog. It’s now “Stories to Tell”. That’s exactly what I want to do. Tell stories. The twist is this….well maybe not so much a twist as….well, ok, maybe it is a twist. For me, anyway.
The stories you will read here might actually be based on truth. Not all of them. Some of them. The others will be complete figments of my very vivid imagination. I will post one once a week, (day of the week still to be determined). What makes this idea a bit twisty is this…..
YOU, the reader, get to guess if the story I post is based on truth or fiction. In the comment section, you write whether you think the story has truth in it or is it a made up story. The following week I will post another story and tell you if the story the week before was truth or my imagination.
The true stories will not all be about me and my experiences. They could also be about people I know and their true experiences! I didn’t want to make it too easy for some of my readers who have followed me throughout my six or so years blogging. I gave out a lot of personal information through the years. This evens things out a bit for newer readers. Or…I’m just devious that way.
So, this is also a call out in a way. If anyone has a true story they want to share with me, so I can write a story based on your experience, get in contact with me through my contact page.
With all that said, let’s get to the first story! Is it true? Or not? You tell me!
She had only been on the job for a couple of weeks. She enjoyed it even if she had to work the night shift. Now that was something to get used to. Usually, the shift was from 5 pm until closing, which was usually around three or four in the morning. She had never had a job where she worked nights. If it hadn’t been for her co-workers she wasn’t sure she would have made it past the first week. They were a great bunch of ladies and gents. Always having a fun time even if they were on the clock.
The job dealt with the gambling community. Not the high rollers like in Vegas but the retired group that had nothing better to do with their time than spend a few hours putting coins in the slot machines. Usually, they were a quiet group, the coin droppers. Sometimes you might get the odd one but all in all unassuming.
Weekends or holidays were the big days. That’s when the working public came in to spend their paycheck or part of it. They’d get busloads of people from the big city farther south. She didn’t mind though, the busy weekends brought in bigger tips and new people to watch.
Her job was exchanging money for coins or paying out winnings. It was interesting. Every once in a while she might even see a big winner at her window. Sometimes she dreamed of winning big somewhere and what she would do with the money. Big dreams.
One weekend she was exchanging paper money for rolls of quarters to one of the regulars when she felt a strange prickling on the back of her neck. Like a cold draft of air brushed over her. She shivered a bit and looked around and found a stranger staring at her. He was behind a couple of excited older ladies, lined up at her window. She only glanced briefly at him and turned to ask the ladies what they needed.
That glance was enough to see he had stone cold eyes. They stared at her without blinking.
As the old ladies walked away the man took their place at her window, still staring coldly at her, and tossed a twenty down on the counter. He didn’t say a word. Just stared. After a brief hesitation where she waited for him to state what he wanted, she decided to ask him hoping that would make him go away quicker. He was giving her bad vibes.
“Would you like quarters?”
He only nodded his head in the affirmative. She slid a roll of quarters his way and picked up the twenty to put in her drawer. After picking up the quarters he turned and walked away all without saying a word or taking his eyes off her. She doesn’t think he even blinked. It was a busy night, so she just shrugged the encounter away thinking he was a bit odd but harmless.
She saw the man with the cold eyes once again that night as he stood in her window to collect his winnings. Once again he didn’t say a word, just stared at her. She counted out his money and pushed it across the counter to him. Picking it up he pulled a twenty out and threw it down on the counter in front of her. For a minute she was confused. Did he want more quarters? Smaller bills? What? Abruptly he turned and walked away. That’s when she deduced that the twenty he threw at her was a tip.
After that first night, he came every weekend and they went through the same routine. He stood at her window, staring with cold eyes, getting his quarters, then cashing out at the end of his night. A few times a co-worker would tell him that they could help him and he would shake his head no and stay where he was, even if he had to wait. He always tipped her twenty, no matter if he won big or not.
Once she asked her co-workers if they knew who he was. They informed her that he was the new owner of a small bar she was familiar with. She used to know the man who owned the bar before the strange man. Most of the people she worked with just said he was a bit on the weird side.
This routine went on until she left her job and moved on to something else. A few months later she had heard from a friend that the strange man, with the stone cold eyes, had committed three murders before he took his own life. He killed his ex-girlfriend and two men he disliked. She gasped when she was told that the man also had a ‘hit’ list of some sort.
She shivered and wondered what would have happened if she stayed at that job. Would she have become a name on his hit list?
That night as she lay in bed and tried to sleep, all she could see was a set of stone cold eyes.
So, is this story based on truth? Have you ever met a killer face to face? How would you feel if you found out you did?