Folks. I’ve been away for a bit but am returning (briefly) with a vengeance with a new (short) short story inspired by my recent experience:
His hobnail boots stode down the corridor with an air of menace; broad shoulders and curved horns barely contained by the walls and low ceiling. Through the small window in the door before him glowed a flickering candle, the light dancing across the red glow of his eyes.
He was the freezing touch of death, he was the bitter blade. He was GRIMM. And he stepped through the door…
His eyes slowly grew accustomed to the candlelight and the stench of… ylang-ylang?!
“Oh hello, you must be …er, sorry the handwriting isn’t great… Graeme?”
A woman in some kind of close fitting garb was smiling at him. This must be a trap. Grimm barred his teeth in his skull like jaw and moved to draw a blade from the scabbard on his back. This sorcery would end now.
“ARGH”. The pain ran from his injured shoulder and down his spine.
“Do be careful Graeme, we all have to accept our limitations. Healing is about a peaceful mind as much as a strong body.”
“Please hang your things on that hook and take a mat next to Patricia. Best pop your boots off too. And we normally say tracky bottoms or shorts, rather than a loin cloth, but we know it’s your first session.”
Grimm was stunned. Maybe there was some strange elixir in the candles… well he could crush any of these fools with his bare hands if needs be.
“Right everyone, please make Graeme feel welcome. We know being new can be scary”.
He looked at her with piercing red orbs.
“I know, dear, but it will get better. Just keep that positivity.”
He edged towards a blue foam mat next to the one who had been called ‘Patricia’. She gave him a friendly smile, followed by a slightly quizzical glance at the twisting ram horns sweeping back from his brow.
“Back pain, Graeme? Oh it’s a right nuisance isn’t it? I’ve got spasms in my thoracic vertabra, so I know where your coming from”.
Grimm continued to explore the experience, he would spring the trap and then, then these people would understand pain. No one would be complaining of a rotator cuff injury once he had split their skulls asunder.
So he would watch and wait and
…work on his core and do something called ‘downward dog’.
After an eternity, the woman at the front blew out the candle and turned on some awful bright bulb. This was it. A distraction. The killing would start. Instinctively he reached for his sword but no…it was still hanging on the wall!! Curses!!
“There you go, Graeme, looks like that shoulder is loosening up a treat already. A few more sessions and you’ll be right as rain.”
She was right. The sorcery was working. Maybe he would return next Thursday at 6.30 Grimm thought. And maybe he would also…buy a candle.