The
Shaman's Revenge (Part 9)
Chase
Colby had just returned home after a very bad day, there had been a
lot of bad days recently, but that day had been one of the worst as
he had just lost the second job in three month. Chase's boss. Will
Bryant, the Caretaker at Capsaicin College, had eventually tired of
the lazy young fool's constant lateness and shoddy workmanship and
sacked him.
This
was a big problem for Chase as he needed the money. Due to his poor
credit rating he had needed to borrow money from a loan shark, and
the interest was very high, if he could repay the debt the lender was
likely to become very unpleasant.
More
significantly, on his scale of importance, Chase liked having money
in his pocked, it was a lot easier to ball chicks when a guy had
money.
Despite
his financial concerns, however, Chase had still spent part of the
cash he had left on beer and some high quality weed from a dealer he
knew. He figured that a drink and a smoke would take his mind off
his troubles.
As
soon as the handsome young wastrel got home, he stripped naked and
spent ten minutes under a shower, the hot soapy water providing a
welcome balm to his lithe and tanned, perfectly formed but tense and
aching body.
Finally
stepping out of the shower and drying himself, he padded, still
naked, into the studio bedroom of his tiny apartment, and turned on
his huge “Ghetto blaster” style portable radio, tuned to a
station which played his favourite heavy rock music 24/7, then opened
a first bottle of beer, which he swiftly downed and followed with a
second.
He then threw himself face down on the bed and rolled
himself a joint from the marijuana he had purchased earlier that day.
After
a few puffs of the expensive weed, Chase began to feel mellow and
relaxed, he leaned over and turned up the music as high as it would
go, yelling “Yeah man!” as he did so.
Chase
planned to only play the music for an hour or so, since the incident
with the wasps, which he was superstitiously convinced the weird old
East European man upstairs had something to do with, he had made sure
the he did not make any noise after 10:30 at night, when he believed
the old man went to bed.
His
good behaviour motivated by fear rather than good neighbourliness,
Chase had intended to do the same that night. However, the drugs
which his pusher had sold him was a lot more powerful than usual,
and the effect was intensified by combining it with the strong beer
he had just drunk. As a result, within twenty minutes of lighting
the first joint, the unlucky young hunk had fallen fast asleep.
Chase
would be unconscious for the next eleven hours, although he did not
sleep peacefully, as his dreams were troubled by the same reoccurring
nightmare, in which he was running naked through an endless field of
corn, pursued by a swarm of giant and angry hornets, all intent on
stinging his bare behind.
Throughout
the long hours of hours of the night, the loud rock music continued
to blare out of the huge speakers wired to his ghetto blaster. The
noise was so loud, it smothered all other sounds, including his
elderly upstairs neighbour furiously hammering on the floor, and
threatening Chase with every agony that Hell had in store for him.
*************
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