NPQ Week of Challenge Day 3 - «Could I use your phone?»

I love write stories. Not in english, 'cause my english is quite ridiculous, but doing this manicure I have had a vision. Or something like this. It would be a little bit disturbed and a little bit gore (maybe), but it's Halloween, baby!
If you think I could give you some bonechills, please be my guest.
If this genre of novels (it's a big, big word!!) disturbs you, feel free to ignore me, today.
And if my english shall give you a very big headache.. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. And I hope my future shall not be the same of our main character...

Ok, this is the story.
You are a pretty blond girl stuck in the middle of nowhere. If you want pretend to be a brunette, please be my guest.
Your car is out of gas. You are tired, hungry, sored, pissed off with your boyfriend - he's cheating you with your best friend Jemima - and your stilettos are not the right choice to walk around searching for a telephone. Because there isn't any cell phone coverage, of course. But, c'mon, baby. Look at the bright side of life. It could be worse. How? Hmpft. It could be raining...
Did you heard those not-so-distant thunders too?

I know.
It's raining cats and dogs.
There's a light. Over at the Frankenstein place, of course. If there's a light, there also shall be an house, right? And if you could reach that house (you can sure about the distance yet, but if you turn left over these bushes you think you'll reach it easily. Or you hope so), you could ask to use their phone. And call daddy. Or mommy. Or Beth. Even that bitch of your happly married with two gorgeous babies and an handsome husband sister would be a pleaseant face to see under this pouring rain! But, before that, you have to reach the house. You cannot run, because your f*ckin' heels, but step by step and little by little you'll reach it. You are making this kind of thoughts when you realize that you can't see that light anymore.
Where is it? Where is gone? Did I turn wrong?
But it's all clouds fault.
The light is still there, whispering warm promises at your heart, and you hasten your sore feet.

The house is an old, empty manor standing out in the middle of this strange wood. It's like Addams Family's house, and when you ring the bell you are pretty sure that would be Lurch, behind the door. But there's any Lurch for you. The man who appears in front of you is a clumsy, fatty, shy person. Wears broken lunettes, and a sweater very old, and very filthy.
He has red spoils over his brown velvet trousers, but you didn't notice them.
I bet it's tomato sauce or ketchup or something like this, say yourself, while he stares at you.
"I'm out of gas", you broke the ice first, "could I use your phone to call home?".
"Who is, Norman?", screams a voice, like long nails running on dusty chalkboard.
"Someone who gone wrong!", he screams back. "We haven't phone", he says. "Mummy doesn't allow it."
You stare at him. "Really?"
"Really." He cleans his nose with the sleeve of his sweater, then he says:" Go. Away. Right Now. It's for your only sake!", and he slams the door in front of you.

I can't believe it!, you think, under the rain. The light is on, so you can sneak around the house and look inside through the windows. They HAVE a phone. An old style black telephone, with a shiny handset waiting over silver fork. The telephone is not so distant from the window. And the window is open. You could lift it up and sneak inside the room, make your call, give a daddy (or mommy or Beth) an appointment at your car, and go back throught the window.
Yes, I can, you think. And you wait few minuts to study home's life. There's nobody. It's supper time, and they are eating in the kitchen. I must hurry, say yourself and lift up the window. Your feet spoiled the old, dusty carpets, but you don't care of it. You lift the shiny handset from the fork... but there's no line. No line at all.
Oh, shit!, you think, when you realise that you are not alone.
There's someone else in this room.
Right behind you.
Something hits you on your head.
When you wake yourself up, there's an horrible sight in front of you.
You are in a bloody abatoir. There's tons of blood over walls and dismembere bodies hooked by rusty grapples. Your hands and feet are... your hands and your left foot are tied with rusty chains.
You turn around your head to see where you are and why you cannot feel your right foot, and you are face to face with the clumsy, fatty, shy guy wears broken lunettes, and a sweater very old, and very filthy.
"I've told you we have no phone line", says. Smiling. With a bloody meat cleaver in his right hand.
"Oh, God", you whisper.
"I have already told you that it was for your own sake..."
"I'... I'm sorry..."
"... and you have spoiled mommy's carpets. There's mud. E.Ve.Ry.Whe.Re."
"I... I can pay. For the laundry, you know."
The guy smiles.
"I can give you my credit card. I..."
"You have been a very naughty girl..."
The meat cleaver shines evil under a moonlight ray.
"Please... let me go..."
The man smiles. Again.
"Shhh. But you'll become good. With a pair of laurel leaves and chopped potatoes in the sauce."
Look at bright side of life, my dear.
Out there it's still raining.

Shaka matt white as white base
China Glaze Phat Santa as bloody red
China Glaze One More Merlot as wine red
China Glaze Evening Seduction as vampy red

It's just a distressed manicure, folks.
Any resemblance to real events and/or real persons, living or dead is purely coincidental.
Happy Halloween

Acque pacate e dolci risate finché non ci rincontreremo

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