Little Jonny

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/3cvPytC

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.

Little Jonny

It was early, about 8:30 on a Sunday morning, and as per usual, it was the day they all went to church. Mum always woke-up first because she took ages to get ready, so this was Jonny’s queue to get some gaming in before they had to leave, roughly around 9.30am. The time he had on the PS4 was conditional; the agreement was that his behaviour had to be exemplary for the rest of the day; otherwise, he’d lose his time to play later in the afternoon. For little Jonny, this arrangement worked just fine; even though he had to suffer the act of going to the church between his gaming sessions. Mum was running late, and as usual disappearing into the bathroom for hours, while dad just sat on the couch, working away on his laptop, supposedly in a vain attempt to get a report finished before they left. Eyes down, he sat in silence, intensely staring at the screen, without interacting with anyone.

Jonny grabbed his breakfast and a glass of juice before he shuffled back into the front room. He put the bowl of cereal down onto the carpet, followed by his juice, before going over to the TV, connecting the HDMI cable from the back of the DVD player to the console. With a few minutes to spare, while the console booted up, Jonny sat on the floor cross-legged, eating his Cheerios as the opening credits played. Even though he didn’t especially like the cereal, as he was so bored of the same thing every morning, he nevertheless sat and ate it all with some intensity, wanting it done, and out the way. As he ate, he took little notice of what was displayed on the welcome screens, as the console brought itself to life. The end of his food conveyed the start of his game, so the empty bowl went onto the floor, as the gaming commenced.

Gameplay only ran for a few seconds before dad made a noise, “Turn that down a bit, will you,” he asked quite sternly, without even raising his head. Jonny turned and briefly looked at him, but he didn’t even bother to look or say anything else. Instead, Jonny just did as instructed; he lent over and grabbed the remote, turning the TV volume down a little, before he leant forward, grabbing his headphones from under the TV stand. Jonny needed to concentrate, plus, wearing headphones would mean that he didn’t have to listen to his dad if he piped up again. On the return, he glanced over to the clock, which told him that he had about forty-five minutes left, so no more delays; he decided to get stuck into his game without any further ado.

At just after nine, his mum appeared dressed up and nearly ready to go. She was stressed as usual; she couldn’t find whatever it was she was looking for in the kitchen. She shouted at dad, but he just mumbled something back at her, which seemed to upset her even more. Mum then vanished again, back into her bedroom.

As Jonny continued playing, he did his utmost to ignore his parents. He didn’t notice at first, but a small red dot had appeared up in the corner of the front room, high up, on the ceiling crease, above the TV. Gameplay intensified as he knew that he was on the count down, and still unseen, the red dot slowly began to grow in size, until it broke out of its circular surroundings and transformed into a short, vertical red line. From its epicentre, it slowly started to descend the wall, directly in front of Jonny. It gained a couple of inches before Jonny’s eyes were finally attracted to it. Just as he reached a crucial part of the game, he pushed the console button to pause the game and looked up; slowly watching its slow movement, as the liquid carefully traversed its way down the painted white wall.

The discolouration in the ceiling crease, where it seemed to all stem from, now started to grow and expand; as it slowly began to spread sideways, running along the crease in each direction. Jonny watched on in awe not understanding what was happening, he then noticed another small dot that had just appeared, about a foot or so away from the first. Sequentially, a third dot then appeared on the other side, off to the right this time, about a foot or so away. Jonny’s attention was now focused; his hands relaxed, and the remote slowly lowered down to the carpet, as he sat there quietly, just watching, looking up at the alien liquid. As he sat there wondering what was happening, a third, and then a fourth dot appeared, which was enough to trigger a response; it was time to call it in. He casually pulled off his headphones, letting them drop to his neck before he shouted out to anyone listening.

“Mum, Dad, you need to see this?” He was utterly transfixed. At first, he got no response, but a few minutes later, his dad reluctantly raised his head to look. He didn’t get up or answer back; instead, he looked at his child, before he turned to look at whatever it was he was staring at. Then, like his son, he also just watched on avidly, looking at the red lines slowly traverse the walls. Without disturbing his gaze, Jonny shouted out the same message again.

“Muuuuuum.”

“What,” she growled, as he finally got a response, coming from somewhere behind him. A door opened, and he heard his mum start to approach the lounge?

“Mum, you need to come here now,” Jonny said, slightly quieter yet in a more frantic manner. The two of them continued to stare at the mess, now more widespread along the ceiling crease. His dad was useless, as he also mindlessly continued to watch; he didn’t say or do anything, as his wife finally arrived.

“Muuuum” he shouted again just as she entered the room; as he then got told off for yelling. He turned to look at her before he swivelled around and pointed.

She walked towards him, stopping just a foot or so behind him. She looked up, noticing the red marks, which had now spread significantly. She abruptly ‘shut up’, positioning herself alongside Jonny. For a moment, the whole family stopped and stared in silence. Jonny’s father then finally decided to get up; he put his laptop to one side, got up and walked over to the TV, where he lent forward, reaching out to touch one of the red lines. He doused the end of his finger before pulling it back to give it a good sniff.

“Oh my god… its blood,” he said, utterly shocked by his discovery.

“Jonny, pass me my phone”, he said with some urgency in his voice. Mum let out a weird sort of scream, quickly raising both her hands up to her face. By this point in time, the whole ceiling crease was full of blood, running from one side of the room to the other, now complete and unbroken. The thick red line, the ceiling crease, had adorned numerous drips and descending lines, now decorated the top part of their front room wall.

“Jonny, go to your room… NOW” his mum shouted; he knew this was serious, so he quickly obliged without question. Sally, Jonny’s mum, looked at Tom with real concern, as he made the call.

“Police, please,”

“I think there’s been a murder or something,” he said, in a quite a frantic and concerned way; the conversation ended by Tom stating their address, before he slowly lowered put the phone down, staring again at the wall. He knew that it wasn’t necessarily murder, but the volume of blood that was now seeping into their front room was a real concern, and he knew that would get the police there as quickly as possible. He turned and looked at Sally;

“Saying it’s murder will get them here a lot quicker hopefully. They’re probably already on their way.” They both turned back to look at the wall and the ever-increasing flood of blood, making its way down to their carpet. A few moments passed before Sally muttered to herself.

“Where the fuck is it all coming from?” Tom didn’t answer at first, as he was deep in thought; then, a few minutes after, he calmly muttered out, not really directing it towards anyone.

“I dunno, but that can’t be good”.

It was only a matter of minutes before the sirens rang out, off in the distance. The sound snowballed, and it wasn’t long before it sounded like a whole army was coming to their door. The emergency sirens twisted and circled the nearby high rise buildings. A loud banging then graced their front door; Tom reacted quickly, opening the door up to let the Police in as soon as he could physically get up.

By the time Sergent Michaels and PC Drew had come into their front room, the vast majority of their front room wall was stripped with hundreds of small lines of blood, all following their gravitational urges to descend their way down to ground level, almost in a strange sort of race against each other. The blood leaking from the ceiling crease was also now working its way down the sidewall creases as well, getting worse by the minute. The bloodied mess that had finally made it to the carpet was beginning to pool, as the wet patches started to swell.

“Oh my god” PC Drew said, as another six Policemen and women stood transfixed behind them, also shocked by what they were now seeing. Their front door was still ajar, and within just a few more seconds, the sound of another five Policemen was heard making their way up to their flat. Sergeant Michaels turned and said to the Police that had just arrived.

“Get upstairs now and find out what the hell is going on.” Upon his order, the men and women moved without hesitation, quickly making their way up the stairwell. Both in awe and disgust, the Sergeant got straight onto his radio and called for more back-up. He ordered the immediate dispatch of more Police, the armed guard response, plus three ambulances. Whatever had happened, with the large volume of blood in their front room, he didn’t hold much hope for any survivors; whatever had gone on up there.

“Who lives up there”? PC Drew turned and looked at Tom.

“To be honest, I thought it was empty” Tom replied, turning to look at Sally.

“Yes, it’s been empty for a month or so, hasn’t it”? She said, looking a little perplexed.

“Yeah, that’s about right, as that young girl… er, what was her name?… Jane; she was the last occupant, wasn’t she. She moved out at the beginning of June, I think”? Tom added.

“So, as far as you’re aware, no one lives up there at the moment then, is that correct”? The Policewoman asked, looking at her notebook.

“Yeah, that’s correct,” Tom said, now worried by the sheer volume of blood slowly filling up their apartment. A few minutes later, as the remaining Police in their apartment started to leave, they heard all the commotion kick-off in the apartment above. With armed Police guards taking the lead, they forced entry, shouting as they barged in. PC Drew, who remained with Jonny’s family, all quietened down and listened intently; Sally went and got Jonny, who was loving all the action and excitement. Together, as a family, they sat on the couch, as the bangs, crashes and shouting filled the air. Strangely, they could hear the Police shout, but there were no come-backs or any other voices to be heard, which just made their intrigue grow. PC Drew offered some reassurance, even though she didn’t know what was happening herself. Jonny wanted to see what was happening, but Sally held him back, for his own safety, as well as their own.

Upstairs, the smashing down of the front door didn’t attract much attention from the unofficial occupier. As the armed Police forced their way in, a man casually just stood up, without a care in the world. In a pair of board shorts, he was covered in an excessive amount of blood, head to toe; as if he’d been rolling around in it. With one look at him, and the devastation that surrounded them forced the officer’s hand. The unknown man was knocked to the floor and hand-cuffed. There was no resistance or cries of pain. Instead, it was said that he had a strange sort of grin on his face. As he was arrested, the man had a horrible, arrogant smirk on his face; he said nothing, not a single word.

A call came through to PC Drew, instructing her to lead Jonny’s family out of the building. With minimal possessions or even clothing, they were taken away to be unknowingly re-homed, as quickly as possible. As they left their apartment, each, in turn, looked up the stairwell cautiously, but there were now so many Police on-site; they’d just seen the backs of the uniforms blocking the staircase, and as they descended, they were passed by paramedic crews making their way up.

At the entrance to the building, there must have been at least fifteen Police cars and vans, two or three large unmarked vans and at least three ambulances, if not more. The family were quickly ushered away, driven off at speed, unknowingly never to return to their home.

The unofficial report from the Met Police stated that a total of forty-one bodies were discovered in the confines of the top floor apartment.

Twenty-one persons, all of various race and sex, were found mutilated within the main lounge area of the third-floor apartment, with three of the corpses having ritualistic or religious symbols carved directly into the skin, mainly in the chest area.

An additional eight bodies had been partially or wholly dismembered or dissected in various ways, with all body parts piled up in the eastern corner of the lounge, located directly above and Sally’s front room.

An additional twelve bodies had been mortally wounded by slashes and deep evasive cuts, to various areas of their bodies, all located within the apartments kitchen area. These corpses had again been stacked up, one on top of each other, forming another single structured pile.

It was noted that the vast majority of all bodies found were partly undressed or completely naked, and all seemingly killed within a matter of hours of being found.

No visible murder weapons were recovered.

The sheer volume of blood was to blame for the leakage into the apartments directly below the crime scene. Approximately one hour after the Police had arrived at the scene, another drainage problem occurred, this time originating from the master bedroom above. The excessive volume of blood that leaked out from the stack of bodies found in the kitchen began to soak through the floor and leak into the second-floor apartments as well.

The evacuation of the bodies was initiated only once the forensics department had approved the removal, which wasn’t until the following day.

The whole apartment block was evacuated, and the clean-up was immense. The residents of the building were unable to access their homes for approximately six weeks that followed.

Tom and Sally’s apartment was deemed too sensitive and vital to the operation, and as such, they were no longer allowed access and were eventually rehoused.

A significant quantity, and a large variety of recreational drugs, including many Class A drugs, were found at the crime scene. Most of the drugs were located in the master bedroom, but there were evidential signs of drug use in all areas of the apartment.

A substantial and excessive amount of alcohol was also discovered in the kitchen cupboard, although all containers were unopened.

When found, the man in the apartment never uttered a word. From the time he was escorted out of the building, handcuffed, led downstairs and placed inside the prisoner cage, inside a locked Police van, he somehow never made it the ten-minute journey to the Police station. Upon arrival, inside the secured location, he was gone, yet the cage was still locked.

None of it made sense!

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/3cvPytC