Originally posted 2017-07-17 08:00:57.
Welcome to Flashback Fiction, a new segment on Geeks and Geeklets! We will be posting stories from our Fiction Writing Friday vaults! Enjoy!
Let me tell you the story of Thomas Buchanan. Thomas was a lonely soul, always by himself and never far from home. He had a job, although this fact could be argued, considering the ideal behind his job was communicating with the dead. This idea all started back when Thomas was little and he would talk to his “friends,” ones from beyond the grave. His mom and dad always thought it would pass, but it never did. Thomas went through life being the strange kid, the kid that all the other children made fun of, pointed their fingers at, and laughed.
As Thomas grew older he started to research and look for others with his gift. This is when he first he heard the song play. With an evil sounding tune, both dark and beautiful, the rise and fall of the pianos and violins made Thomas’s heart race rapidly, to the point that a bead of sweat formed on his brow. Thomas had images of sadness, joy, loneliness, and he also felt something else, maybe fear as the song seemed to mean the end of something or maybe the beginning.
“Excuse me, what’s this song called?” asked Thomas to the clerk at the local Seven Eleven.
“Uhh, what song?” the clerk replied.
Thomas just shook his head realizing it was something different. The song carried on for some time after his visit. It started eating at Thomas, with a myriad of notes, some beautiful but some dark. Fear struck Thomas as he focused on suppressing the song. Eventually, he was able to control this pang of fear, however the song always remained like a low hum.
As Thomas carries out his daily duties, dusting and cleaning, preparing his business for opening, the phone rings.
“Buchanan’s Beyond, this is Tom.”
“Hello, I was wondering if I could make an appointment?” the caller asked nervously.
“Sure, when would you like it?” Thomas replied.
“Tonight if possible.” the caller stated.
Thomas feigns busy, shuffling through his planner which has been blank for years. “I can probably fit you in around 10:00 p.m.”
“That’s fine.” the caller replied
“What’s the name and what are you looking to do?” Thomas asked bluntly.
“I would like to speak to my dead mother, and the name is Katherine.”
“Ok, Katherine I will see you then, please bring some form of memorabilia, it will help me find her.” Thomas stated.
“Ok will do.” she replied.
Thomas hung up and carried on preparing the shop.
The night went on as normal with a few walk in’s wanting to scare their friends and, of course, make fun of Thomas. The “friends” of Thomas did not appreciate this. When Thomas was working, he always did his best to ignore the voices, but their lewd comments about his patrons were very vulgar and sometimes he wondered about their intentions. Of course Thomas needed his friends, after all that is how he knew so much.
Ten o’clock came and went, Thomas planned on closing the door after about an hour of waiting, but just as Thomas reached the lock a woman grabbed the handle.“ I am so sorry.” Katherine gasped. “Is it too late for us to do this?”
Thomas was struck as the woman entered. He was in awe of her beauty, both elegant and glamorous. Katherine was the most beautiful woman Thomas had ever seen, let alone, been in front of him. The slight rise and fall of piano and violins began. Thomas had forgotten about the song, it had been a long time since it had been so intense.
“Hello?” questioned Katherine
Thomas clears his throat “yes, please come in and sit.” he stammered.
As they sat down, Katherine explained her story. Thomas looked intently but couldn’t shake the song from his head, he was always able to suppress the song before, however, this time was different. The song grew in intensity and he excused himself to the bathroom. As he walked to the bathroom, Thomas began to feel the cold touch of loneliness and sadness that he had known as a kid. The song reverberated through his whole body using his organs as it’s concerto.
Thomas began to wash his face in an attempt to sprinkle his mind clear. As he looked up from the mirror he was confronted by a man. The man was very pale, dressed in a dark black suit and he had to be well over 100 years old. The man smiled and reached towards Thomas. Thomas to filled with fear, and could only focus on the ballad now playing throughout his body. Little did Thomas know that his death song had begun to whistle and was about to strike its final note.