COIN MYSTERIES THEATRE Presents……

The cellar was dark and I could hear noises somewhere off to my left.  Snuffling sounds and an occasional tearing noise.

I had no idea how I had got here.  All I could remember was going to the coin collectors club earlier in the evening and having a few drinks.  Perhaps a few more drinks than I had thought?  Or maybe I had been drugged?

As I looked around in the semi-darkness, I could see that my wrists had been bound with rope.  My ankles too were secured.  Someone had also taped my mouth shut.  I was unable to move and I could feel terror rising in me each time I heard the strange noises from the other end of the low room.  The only source of light came from a small paraffin lamp.  It had been placed on the floor about six feet away from me.  Consequently, most of the cellar lay enshrouded in shadows.  It was also damp and dirty; cobwebs were draped across what looked like broken furniture and the floor on which I sat was covered in dust and filth.

I didn’t like it much in here.  I also didn’t like being tied up whilst something not far away was making all kinds of creepy noises.  Bearing all of this in mind, I made a conscious decision to try and untie myself.  Intuition also told me I should stay as quiet as possible while doing this.

‘I didn’t like it much in here.  I also didn’t like being tied up whilst something not far away was making all kinds of creepy noises’

But before I could even start trying to free myself a shadow appeared at the far end of the cellar.  It was hunched over and it appeared to move quite slowly.  Or at least it did at first….  Because it then suddenly ran straight toward me before stopping abruptly a few feet away.  It was Ian Lambert from the coin collectors club.  And he had an evil glint in his eye.  He also looked full of cold.  This would account for one half of the noises I had heard.

  ‘Okay Mik, it’s like this,’  He began, his eyes staying firmly fixed on mine, ‘None of us in the club can afford the Black Bull of Clarence five pound coin.  No way.  Prices have just gone bloody stoopid.’  He then paused and a malevolent look appeared on his face.  I wasn’t sure I liked the way this was going.

Ian pulled an envelope from his trouser pocket and held it up so I could see.  It was addressed to my girlfriend.

‘Okay Mik, it’s like this,’  He began, his eyes staying firmly fixed on mine’

‘Me and a few others from the club are sending this to your nearest and dearest demanding a ransom.  If we get it, we can all afford to buy ourselves a bull.’  He smiled as he finished as if he had just delivered the worlds smartest plan ever.  ‘Oh,’ he continued, ‘And if your bird doesn’t send us the dollar then…. we hand you over to some of those coin designers you slagged off in your reviews.  I’m sure they would love to have a ‘chat’ with you.’

He laughed and slowly walked away with the letter.  He headed back from where he came and now that my eyes had adjusted a little more, I could see he had been busy taking Change Checker blue cards apart – which explained the second half of the strange sounds I had heard.  I sighed (as best as I could with duct tape over my mouth) and tried to get comfortable on the dirty floor.    Now I could only hope that my woman would help me out of this pickle.

I knew just how sodding slow Royal Mail could be.

(written in tribute to the true masters of modern horror and suspense such as Dean R. Koontz and Stephen King.  I do hope it was creepy – it is kind of hard making Mr Lambert scary as he really isn’t!)

 

© Article and images (except where stated) copyright Mik Smith 2022

Main Image created by Mik
1st image reblogged from unsettlingstories.com
2nd image reblogged from stemhubfoundation.com
3rd image ‘manipulated gently’ by Mik