Death of an old friend

About the author and series.

This book is part of a series, written by IP Spall, consisting of 22 short stories in total. To find out more about this book series or any of IP Spall’s other publications, head to https://linktr.ee/ipspallbooks

Many of these short stories are free, and if you enjoy reading this book, you can even buy a total collection of all the short stories for a low price! Follow the link above to find out more.

This story can be found on Amazon at: https://amzn.to/2VZftDJ
Painfully Unpleasant stories can be found on Medium at: https://medium.com/@ipspallbooks

An uncomfortable foreword

It has been said that a series of short stories must emanate unexpectedness and a sense of chilling surprise. Such a collection of stories would require a character framework that is present throughout the whole book; from tale to tale, offering the reader a chance to relate to the individual characters — their pain, their horror, their paranoia. Such a collation would also contain an underlying subplot, so all of the stories connect and relate to one another, in a weblike manner, allowing each entry to follow on from the last with some continuity, while still retaining individuality.

I gave this some thought and decided to do the complete opposite. For me, each story should be read as an individual tale of terror, and certainly not as a collective.

Each of my short stories should evoke thought, emotion, and hopefully, leaves the reader wondering what the hell happens next. Let’s face it; not everyone looks for a happy ending in the stories they read. With this in mind, let your imaginations run wild, and enjoy the unpredictability; often an uncomfortable ride.

Death of an old friend

From inside the wooden barn, a series of loud and unsettling noises rang out across the courtyard, slowly and uncomfortably attracting the attention of everyone present. The sounds touched a nerve with both staff and customers alike, drawing everyone out into the open, worried by the sounds that they were hearing. As a crowd of people slowly began to amass just to the side of the barn, questions were asked, with seemingly few answers forthcoming; what the hell had happened?

With a sudden grating of wood, the uncompromising doors of the barn were slowly pushed open; all eyes turned to look. Inside, on the ground floor, there were six stalls, while on the second floor, upstairs, hundreds of straw and hay bales sat motionless in the concealed darkness, to be slowly consumed throughout the winter months. Although the door opened, nothing happened. It was a couple of minutes before a ghastly coughing sound was omitted from the depths of the barn, attracting everyone’s attention. Just as one of the stable hands emerged from the crowd to investigate, a young, grey Gelding, was haltingly led out of the barn by the farm manager, Sue.

It became apparent that the sick animal was ill, gravely so. Carefully, it took a few floored steps forward; thin and unsteady, it lurched forward in a sort of stumbling motion, slowly hobbling, step by step, towards the centre of the courtyard. The horse was terribly ill, in an appalling state of health. As it struggled to exit the barn, it soon became clear that the capacity of walking was in itself, a real difficulty. The coughing fits were continuous, and without pause, restricting the sick creature adequate time to breathe; and, it seemed to be declining by the minute. Once the creature was out in the open, it was a matter of minutes before the noise it omitted began to change, morphing into a frenzied shrieking; a grating sort of sound, as it strained itself taking every breath. The animal’s torso twisted and contorted, rising and falling uncomfortably, as it used every ounce of its strength just to continue breathing. With its head bowed down, almost touching the floor, a long thick line of saliva now joined the creature to the ground, in a thick silver line of a cloudy, viscous liquid. The horse aggressively sucked in huge gulps of air between the coughing bouts; the small, horrified crowd of people watched on in horror, as its torso arched in a much laboured and unnatural way. It was an arduous and ghoulish event for all those who were there.

At this point, Dan exited the eastern wing of the leading stables block. Upon hearing the noises, and seeing the small gathering of people that had formed outside the barn, and their apparent upset, he felt an uneasy surge of emotion suddenly consume his body. The kids working that day, and the customers that had formed together in the courtyard had a look of shock and horror that was unmistakable. Once he realised what was happening, he felt his emotions materialise on the surface, finding it difficult to control, as the tears started to form the nearer he got to the courtyard. No one had ever witnessed anything like this before on the farm, and as soon as he saw the horse close up, the overwhelming urge to cry was uncontrollable. After all, the Gelding was an old friend, not only to him but to all of them. Being one of the more senior stable hands, he bypassed the crowd and sympathetically approached closer to the poor creature; he stretched out a loving hand, which he hoped would offer the sick animal some comfort. The horse didn’t flinch. It instead seemed to initiate an even harder bout of coughing. Dan briefly moved his gaze to Sue, the farm manager, who was now very loosely holding the end of the animal’s rope. She stood there helpless, obliterated, balling her eyes out. Dan was speechless and expressionless looking at his superior; she returned the gaze, and let go of the rope, knowing that the creature was seriously ill and not even capable of moving on its own.

“How long’s he been like this?” Dan gently asked, tears in his eyes, trying to talk without diverting his gaze from the sick animal.

“It all started about fifteen, twenty minutes ago, I think,” she said, hardly able to talk.

“The vet’s on his way… but he said he’d be at least an hour”. Sue had real trouble getting the words out, as the floods of tears mixed with her eyeliner, omitting long black streaks down her face; the makeup was now dripping down onto her blouse indiscriminately.

With the whites of the creature’s eyes now prominent, the animal looked morbidly. Desperately distressed, it frantically continued to try and catch its breath, strenuously sucking in gulps of air, doing anything it could to stay alive. The look of panic was also now imprinted on the onlookers, as they could only begin to imagine how much pain the creature was facing. The creature writhed in pain, and as it did, there wasn’t a dry face amongst the crowd, as both the adults and kids all watched on helplessly. The sound alone scratched at their nerves; it was a raw, unnatural, and exceptionally uncomfortable sound that was hard to digest and listen too.

Then, amongst the painful and unsettling noises that filled the yard, the creature suddenly excreted a horrific deafening and disturbing cry for help, sending a ripple of fear through everyone present.

The horse made a dramatic stumble forward, attempting to take a single step towards the gate, as the pain and discomfort became too intense to watch. It then raised its muzzle slightly, extending out its neck before vomiting on the floor, right next to where Dan was standing. Cries of fear rang out from the people watching, as they all knew that this was a simply terrible sign. For those who worked in the equine industry, it was common knowledge that a horse’s digestive system doesn’t allow them to be sick; they can’t vomit like humans, so this was just another sign of its impending doom and the seriousness of the situation. With a mixture of browns and mustard coloured excretion, mixed with large clumps of the creature’s blood, a considerable volume of vomit was splattering from its mouth, splashing across the yard. Within seconds, the putrid, foul smell of death spread out towards the bystanders, causing its audience to gag, and triggering a new level of perilous consensus.

The destitute and incurable animal didn’t give up its effort; it fought-hard, straining its body harder than ever, as it arched its spine in a desperate attempt just to draw a breath. Its head fell to the ground again and stayed there as a long thick line of blooded saliva slowly grew thicker, connecting the animal to a now sizable pile of foul-smelling vomit. The horse gave off an accelerated air of panic and combined with the persistent, distressing noises; it was becoming apparent that the creature wasn’t going to survive much longer. The manager slowly took a step back, holding her hand to her mouth, moving away in an awful state; and although she couldn’t talk, she removed her phone and quietly gave the vet one last, desperate call for help.

With continued horror, amongst the floods of tears, they all watched on helplessly before the animal then suffered a horrendous type of fit. Without warning, the creature violently dropped onto its front knees, awkwardly and painfully, ripping the skin on both legs. Its weight pushed out a few lines of blood that quickly ran away from its knee joints. Its chin hit the cold concrete floor causing its head to jerk back at an angle, as its body bowed up and down in the continued rise and fall of the straining motion. With much dismay from the onlookers, there were endless streams of tears; it was as if the creature also now began to cry, as its audience watched on helplessly, unable to do anything to aid the animal.

The horse stayed on its knees for just a few minutes, internally shrieking to itself amongst the coughing fits, before it then fell. Slowly, and without any protest, the animal fell flat onto its right-hand-side, on the cold, hard concrete yard. The sound of bone and flesh hitting the hard floor was difficult to digest. For the minutes that followed, it lay flat, writhing in pain, as it continued to suck in the air awkwardly.

With its head lying still, upon the concrete, its big, beautiful eye, surrounded by white — the imprinted fear seemed to pin it in place. The movements of coughing and breathing began to reduce slowly, as the act of staying alive was too labour intensive. In a ghoulish climax of sorts, the horse drew its last breaths, and, after one last exaggerated exhale, its body deflated, as it dramatically fell motionless and still. Its big brown eye remained wide open, as everything else shut down; the white disappearing, bringing its beautiful, bulging eyes back to normal. Finally, to a loud cry of upset from the onlookers, the animal laid in peace, as its life force departed itself, and all that remained was a shell, a corpse.

The volume of noise from the onlookers immediately rose up, especially from the younger kids — the sound of crying rippled across the yard, clearly distraught by this unusual and traumatic event. For many of the younger ones, they sought comfort from their colleagues, as death now walked amongst them. On that day, which would never be forgotten, they witnessed the end of a friend; and the last days of one of Earth’s most beautiful creatures, which many had known for years. They saw death, right there, in front of their eyes. Words could not express how sad they all felt, experiencing such a horrendous and unforgiving experience; a sad and tragic event that would have disturbed anyone. For Dan, this cruel event was not only gravely upsetting, but it became a lifelong memory that he was forced to carry with him for the rest of his life.

Although the vet made every effort to get to the stables, he eventually turned up about forty minutes too late. He spent approximately fifteen minutes calculating what had happened before he informed Sue that the poor creature had died from a severe Asthma attack. This type of death was something unheard of in the equine world. The whole situation was then made even worse, as she was reminded that the animal had only had a check-up a few months before and according to his notes, the vet said that there had been no sign of illness previously. The customers soon left, and after multiple phone calls, all the young kids soon followed, leaving just a few people left; Sue, Dan and another girl called Samantha, who’d worked there for several years.

The whole process was then drawn out even further, as they now had a dead body in the centre of the forecourt for another hour or so before the so-called ‘meat-man’ turned up.

The body had to be disposed of, regardless of what anyone thought. The horse was destined for the abattoir. The carcass was temporarily covered up with a couple of old blankets, but in a flat open courtyard, it remained a prominent reminder of past events. The horrendous deathly sounds still rang through all of their heads, unpleasant memory of the pain their old friend endured before it drew its last breath.

When the lorry did eventually turn up, it turned out to be a horrendously messy affair, as he only had a truck that didn’t have any form of a crane on the back. He reversed the vehicle back into the stables and positioned in the entranceway, as close to the body as he could get, approximately three to four metres away. With some heavy-duty rope, he then tied a loop around the creature’s neck, and in a messy, seemingly unprofessional manner started up the winch, located inside. The carcass was dragged onto to lorry; another thing no one should ever have to watch. As the corpse was heavy; the unhealthy man had little respect for the animal, so the process of removal was messy. With the sound of the winch, the diesel fumes pump out of the exhaust and a thick trail of blood and vomit, painting a unique set of lines across the courtyard floor. The body was pulled and jerked, as the rope around its neck jutted the head forward, yanking it violently, as it tried to traverse the lip of the trailer door. More skin slid off, and more blood ran, as slowly slumped and bulged over the edge of the ramp. Blood was now everywhere and mixed with the putrid-smelling vomit, which the carcass had dispersed somewhat, the mess had now spread out; it was a disgusting and a pretty terrifying thing to watch.

Once onboard, the meat-man lifted the door, allowing the blood to run off through the seams, behind he quickly moved round to the driver’s seat. Without a word to anyone, the truck left the farm with haste, leaving the abstract mess for Dan and Sam to clear up. Sue had an emotional overload and couldn’t handle it anymore, so she also left, without letting anyone know, leaving just two teenagers to clear up after the earlier events. The long red trails of blood, accompanied by the extended splatter patterns of vomit and shit, was all that remained as silence fell upon the farm. Dan and Sam just looked at each other with the thought of disgust running through their heads, as they viewed the remaining mess. They couldn’t wait for the day to come to an end.

About the author and series.

This book is part of a series, written by IP Spall, consisting of 22 short stories in total. To find out more about this book series or any of IP Spall’s other publications, head to https://linktr.ee/ipspallbooks

Many of these short stories are free, and if you enjoy reading this book, you can even buy a total collection of all the short stories for a low price! Follow the link above to find out more.

This story can be found on Amazon at: https://amzn.to/2VZftDJ
Painfully Unpleasant stories can be found on Medium at: https://medium.com/@ipspallbooks