Creepy - Vinnie Jones

Episode Date: June 8, 2020

It was supposed to be a simple job...***Written by SplatterSaint***Check out our reward tiers at patreon.com/creepypod***You can also subscribe to us on YouTube:https://www.youtube.com/creepypod***Music by Steve Blizin***Title music by Alex Aldea***Intro/Outro Narration by Joe Stofko Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

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Vinnie Jones Written by Splatter Saint. Vinnie Jones landed an elbow atop the tall shovel at the edge of the edge of of a freshly dug rectangular hole, six feet long by three feet wide and five feet deep as far as you could tell. Measurements were only a rough estimate, but it'd be of adequate size to get the macabre situation handled. At the opposite end of where he stood critiquing his works at a large brown rock.

It was a shade of brown that hit a little more in the red spectrum, allowing it to stand out from all the dirt. Its top was rounded with smooth sides that ran down into the ground. It'd make a good headstone, Vinny thought to himself. The only source of light, other than the moon, was a single lantern placed in the dirt next to the ominous hole. The tiny bit of a cute yellow light gave the whole an appearance of being much more shallow than it actually was. He knew it was only a trick, but debated with himself diplomatically about digging a little deeper. He took a moment to pull a pack of smokes from his pocket, lit one.

and thought about the hard work needed to get the hole down another foot. He took a few pulls from his cigarette while he took a break and tried to motivate himself to hop down and dig it deeper. He knew he wasn't going to be digging anymore, then decided to enjoy the cooling effect of the night air as it gently blew around his naked torso. He inspected the surroundings and thought about how his tiny lantern could probably be seen for miles in the darkness.

There's much out here to block the light, some shrubs and rocks. Although the overall risk is low that anyone would see anything in the middle of nowhere, he looked back down to the little beacon. There's a much reason to be out here unless you're hiding something. He said to the lantern. Vinny took the last drake from his cigarette, in an almost reflexive manner, moved it between his thumb and middle finger before ginger. flicking it into the hole.

He shuffled decidedly to the trunk of his brand new car while thinking back to the sales pitch the dealer made. To say the dumpy and abrasive sales meant a cost of any seconds after setting foot on the lot would have been an understatement. The trunk of this 1948 Cadillac Series 62 sedan is enough trunk space to carry as many full-side suitcases would be need for an entire family. Was one of the naily pitches from the man.

Vinny pulled the small ring of keys from his pocket, separated one, and inserted it into the lock. A small metallic click, and the spacious trunk popped open. In that moment, he was reminded briefly of the comically colorful cardboard suitcase cutouts laid inside when it was new. Vinny looked down, expressionless, at the headless, handless body laying bound in the boot. His face remained blank until seeing the blank. black and white leather bowling ball bag the rest of just behind the body. He grimaced at the bag while leaning in to remove the body, taking each leg at the ankle he pulled and twisted the limbs.

His eyes never left the bag as he leveraged himself back, pulling the legs until the body stopped sliding. The butt caught on the inside lip of the trunk, stopping him from moving it freely. He released his grip from the ankles, causing the body to arch half a little. way out of the trunk. The thin pant legs blew gently from the cool breeze.

Vinny took a half step back, twisting his neck in a way that gave a satisfying crack. He swung each arm to stretch his shoulders before stepping back to the body. Standing between the two dangling legs, he placed one hand on the body's belt, and the other around the twine that bond the handless wrists. Kneeling down, he flung the corpse,

across his shoulders, the sudden weight of it, pushing out a guttural grunt. Then he wobbled for a second, but after another few he stabilized himself enough to shuffle to the hole. Then he stood at the precipice, and with a final groan, he slid the man over his head and dropped it into the darkness. As a body crossed the thin veil of lanternlight into the darkness, a wave of sickness gripped his stomach. A flat thud hit him in the gut when the corpse hit bottom.

He threw up immediately while the light plume of dust from the hole rested gently across his shoulders, an ominous yet supportive gesture from someplace unseen. After a few minutes of spitting strings of bile followed by a few deep breaths, then he managed to regain his composure. He buried the body, trying his best not to think back to what happened. He was embarrassed that he didn't have the stomach to handle the stress of this job. Despite the discomfort, he knew the only way to move up in the family was take bigger and bigger jobs. He convinced himself it would get easier with time.

As well, the money was always a plus. The wooden handle of his shovel dug into his hands with every shovel full of dirt. His hands were getting raw, but filling the hole went a lot faster than digging it. giving it a gentle pat with the back of his shovel. Vinnie finished filling the grave. A deep exhalation signaled the end to a long day. Vinny slid into the driver's seat, acutely aware of the detailing his car would need when he gets out of the desert. He grabbed the white button-up shirt from the passenger seat and slid it on, but lost himself to thought.

He let his tired hands slip from the pressed collar to his lap. He sat quietly for a long while with the driver's side door open. Half-dressed as he stared at the mound of dirt that lay ahead of him. He watched the gentle mound, while the movie reel played inside his mind. He saw the dirt shape and part of the body come bursting out of the ground. He rushed the car, diving on top of him and beating him to a pulp with its handless stumps. Squeezing his eyes shut. The reel stopped and he checked.

himself in the rearview mirror. His eyes were bloodshot from a combination of dust and no sleep. Mumbling incoherently into his reflection, his increasing concern pecked at him this time the job might have been too big. He avoided the internal conversation by tilting the mirror into position

that allowed him to look out the back window. His mind walked from inward conflict to the leather bag that sat in the trunk. The ride was jostling as he traveled towards the poorly paved road and out of the untamed desert. The focus needed to move through the rough terrain served as a fitting distraction. And the passenger seat next to him, pulling a small portion of his attention, sat the leather bowling ball bag. Seeing that it wasn't much despite the bouncing, he let himself focus on whether or not he passed the California-Nevada border.

He did his best to follow his map. But with the darkness of knife-blanketing the landscape, he came to the conclusion that it was almost impossible. He was tired, flying blind, and being bounced around the cab. Vinnie reluctantly decided it would be best to try and find the road in the morning. The pastel pink sunlight peered into the car from outside of the dusty windshield. It was this delicate birthing of light that pushed itself past Vinny's eyelids into his eyes. He squinted hard in a vain attempt to keep the morning light out. As he woke, he shielded himself with the crook of his right arm,

while his left hand fumbled under the seat to find the little lever that would spring him upright. After a few groggy moments of searching, he managed to raise himself to eye-level with the big glass alarm clock. He looked over the dust-cover dash and steering wheel disappointed that the new car shine that once sparkled and now been dulled. His gaze slid to the equally dulled hood, something regarded with a sneer. His eyes poured over the pain while simultaneously turning the key he left in the ignition while he slept to crank the engine. The dirty beast started with a steady rumble. Happy that his baby started with soothing purr, then he scanned the area in front of him for what should have been the unmarked path he traveled down last night.

Instead, he found the bumper of his collar. almost touching a small mound of freshly stirred dirt. He had somehow been returned to where he finished digging only a few hours before. Then he opened the driver's side door, placing one foot in the soft dirt while keeping the other inside the car. He used the open car door as a barricade which added to the feet of dirt between him and the body buried in front of him. He watched and waited, expecting but not wanting to see a corpse rise up and exact its revenge. He was ready to run if he came to that, but for now he stood, frozen behind the door of this cruiser like a rookie cop.

He stood and contemplated the unlikelyhood of the circumstances for far too long, spinning him up into a panic with a hint of confusion. Unsure of himself or what might have happened in the darkness, he sat back down, shut the door, and gave a long, hard look at the bag resting in the passenger seat. After a brief pause, his fight or flight response kicked in, making him able to throw the car into reverse. He ripped off into the direction of the main road in a mushroom cloud of angry dirt. The most got turned around last night. His voice wasn't as shaky as he thought it would have been, and the strength of his voice comforted him.

Hearing himself helped to bring him back to reality, the outright ridiculousness of the situation. He slowed his car as his heart did the same. Despite the strengthening of will, he still wanted to get out of the desert and soothed his sore hands with a nice gold beer from the first place you could find. The sun had started its downward descent before Vinny happened to find anything resembling his way out.

The car bounced and shook as it hopped from dirt mound of shrubbery until he spotted what looked like the lights of a small town off in the distance. This little oasis silhouette outlined only the same. a few buildings. Unfortunately, they were too far off for him to make out if they were houses or storefronts, but he knew it was the escape he was looking for. Vinny's excitement exploded at the prospect of getting out of the wasteland and before sunset. Even if only just before, he feathered the gas pedal a little more due to the almost

uncontainable excitement. Just a bit further, he breathed. The sun began to fall behind the distant rock. rocky horizon while Vinny attempted to put a little more pressure under the gas pedal. The car shook and vibrated as it danced across the uneven plane with increased speed, but never seemed to get any closer to the road. Come on, girl, he said with a bit more vibrato. Vinny's frustration grew as a natural light faded.

He didn't realize right away how hard it was to see with the quickening loss of sun. His only thoughts were those of the last. leaving. And because of this, he waited a moment or two too long before pulling the knob and turning on his headlights. The Cadillac's lights beamed to life, just in time to illuminate a small ditch heading for the driver's side tire. Then he did what he could do to swerve, then break, but with no use. The distance closed in too fast and in too short amount of time to do anything. Again slid out to the side as the left front tire dipped into the ditch, ripping it from the undercarriage.

Then he let out a string of profanities, while being thrown from his seat and slamming under the driver's side door. The sound of twisted Madeline heartbreak thundered while the car kicked up an enormous cloud of dirt. When the dusty haze combed, then he found himself facing the sky with no land in sight. Although he had not moved from the driver's side of the cabin, then he sat in the driver's seat with his back resting in the crowsing. crevice between the seat and the door.

His entire body ached, but more intensely than anything else was the radiating pain from his broken left arm. His right eye, the one not swollen from making contact with something hard, moved to the leather bag. It sat secured in the passenger seat with barely a sparkle of dust on it. Then he reached across his chest with his usable right arm and opened the door behind him. Using his feet on the center hump, he pushed himself up and out the door. With his one good eye, he watched the bag. He stared at it as if it was a supervillain, pretending to be dead only to come back for one last scare. He was so intensely focused on the bag than when the door decided to give way,

he rolled backwards with a heart of the ground. He laid in the dirt on his back, holding his worthless arms as it filled him with blinding pain. He dizzily forced himself to his feet hoping to walk to remaining distance to town. But after two small steps he stumbled and fell. He gripped a handful of dirt in a clumsy and vain attempt to drag himself before his consciousness slipped away. It wasn't the new day's light that caused Vinny to slowly wake, but the heat of the midday sun. His body's life-saving ability to lift itself up and walk to town had not yet been realized by the bad. battered man. His painfully sore body spent multiple hours in the dirt and under the white

hot sun. His eyes remained closed, but every twitch of the cheek and sneer of the lip was a fiery poker to his slumber. While he laid in this fiery purgatory he dreamt or possibly remembered the death of the man in the hole. However, he visioned himself as being the one tied by heavy knots to a wobbly, wooden chair. He looked his boss in the eyes as he took a cigar cutter to each finger, just above each joint and working his way down. The method of torture changed suddenly, and two of the three heavyset man took turns pummeling Vinny.

Each of the landed punches seemed to jolt Vinny's body as he lay in the dirt. He was awake enough to know he was dreaming, but far too. too dreamy to stop the nightmare. The man had stopped hitting, but moved to fire. The man held a small propane torch, while the other held a metal rod to it. The three men and Vinny watched while the tip turned from a rusted dark metal, to glowing red, and finally, to white.

A metallic smell filled a room increasingly in intensity as the white hot rod moved closer to Vinny's ear. He could hear the sizzle and pop as the vicious. This man callously laid it across his ear and down the cheek. It was the push Vinny needed to finally be awoken fully. He checked his hands and saw he still had all of his digits. He touched his face, and although raw from his newly acquired sunburn, he did not have a long, blistered scar across his face.

Vinny lifted his head from the dirt pile that served as a bed to look for the town. His thoughts remained intensely on the cool glass of water. when he realized his salvation, the town, was not there. Thoughts of a cool drink seeped from his mind as panic washed over him. Where the fuck is my car? The harshness of his dry throat made each letter burn. His car was missing, but the concern for his beloved vehicle dissipated quickly at the realization that directly in front of him sat a leather bowling ball bag.

It stood monumentally on a large rock that mirrored the one he used as a headstone for the grave. Confused. Vinny reached out with his one good arm to take the bag. He couldn't believe the astronomical coincidence of finding another bag like his out here, in the middle of nowhere. No. Not another one. The same one.

His head baked fog began to lay. left, and was then he realized he was sitting on top of the grave. Somehow, he'd been returned for a second time. Remain seated as tears began streaming down his dirt and crested cheeks. His face was a red-swollen mess from the sunburn, and now the crying, the single word came from his mouth in a harsh dry whisper. Fuck! He spoke a little louder.

while shoving his face into the crook of his elbow to wipe the few tears that pushed their way out of his dried-out ducks. Dwerg getting a little louder and a little stronger. He picked himself up all fear and concerned morphed and anger. Running over the ominous bay, he grabbed it by the handles, flinging it away. As an actor defiance, he then gave the finger to the soft-mounted dirt before walking back in the direction of town. and his neck turned from burned to blistered under the intensity of the sun. The lifted collar of his shirt did little to stop the heat. It seemed to burn straight through.

He hoped the thick black hair on top of his head would save his scalp. The sun stayed high and beat on his back unrelentingly for what was entirely too long. Then he wasn't sure if the heat was finally getting to him. But despite his time walking, With the sun on his back, his shadow never seemed to get any longer. Why is it so damn hot? Then he growled. He's still burning as much as his neck.

It's been hours. My shadow started a foot long, now it's only one damn foot long. He shuffled every other step as he walked. But turning his inner dialogue outward helped to calm him. and keep moving forward. I need water. I want some beer, but I need water first.

Every word was spoken through gridded teeth. I'm going to go get a six or a sots and a gallon jug of water. I'm going to sit in the bath, soak, and drink it all. Vinny reached a ripped beer brown 1948 Cadillac Series 62 sedan. It had been in a terrible,

accent and sit almost vertically in the dirt. Vinnie froze at the realization he couldn't have walked faster than his Cadillac. It should have been dark. Seeing the car popped up so unbelievably filled Vinny with a frustrating mix of anger and sorrow. He loved that car. And now it's to precariously in the middle of nowhere as a testament to poor choices. He shuffled a little closer and wondered if inside would be another leather bag relaxing comfortably in the passenger seat. Deciding his conviction of curiosity wasn't strong enough. He walked past the twisted monument to the hopelessness of the situation. He found himself unable to look for a bag in the cab.

He said to himself, stop him just past the car, can bag off into the face to metal mess. It's crazy. I'll get to town. Get on with this. This. This! He said, juggling the air in front of him.

Turning his back to the car, he started walking to the town from last night when the sound of creaking metal filled the air. And he paused. His curiosity was getting the better of him. He turned to face the moaning monolith, amazed at how loud the sounds were despite it not moving at all. Too far into his heat-induced illusion. He didn't move when the car gave way. His fighter-flutter response allowed him to only back up a step before falling to his as he came crashing down on top of his legs.

His left knee shattered as a pinch between the hard ground and an unknown something solid from the undercarriage. Every nerve-ending fire at once causing Vinnie's consciousness to grow exponentially dark. The pain from his two broken limbs combined with dehydration and a blistering sunburn became too much trauma to bear. It was night when Vinnie's unconsciousness started to seep away. His head throbbed at the first peaks of consciousness, but that was only a minor inconvenience in comparison to the pain of his two broken limbs. It took him every tick of a minute to realize he wasn't home sleeping off a hangover.

He wished he could go back to his dreamy delusions. But it seemed in that moment that life had passed. He wanted so much not to wake up that he didn't open his eyes until he realized his head rested on a leather bag. He only worked through an inventory on his body while keeping focus on the night's sky. His arm's still broken. His legs hurt. but he didn't feel the weight to cross them anymore.

The car that previously pinned him no longer rested on top of them. Deciding to bring his new vision to ground level, he was petrified to find the car gone. Instead, propped up with its back against the rock, sat the corpse of a headless, handless, bound body. It sat slouched with one of its pant legs, punched up the calf level, revealing the dark blue socks that had been dressed in at burial. The entire figure's suit was wrinkled and disheveled with a coating of dirt rubbed deep into the fibers. Vinnie didn't scramble away despite the impossibility of a bound and headless body undigging itself from the grave.

Vinny didn't panic at the sight of a once buried body facing him. His mind filled in the blanks. and he imagined the look on the face, on the head that was missing. He robotically removed the leather bag from under his head with his one good arm. Sitting up, he held a strap with his bad arm while in zipping it with his good. The smell of leather that would break through the dirt that encrusted his nose while he worked it open, like a woman looking for her lipstick. He served blindly with his hand.

He parted hard rubber band stacks of money until he fell in the little 22 caliber revolver at the bottom gripping the handle and he pulled it from the bag flinging a stack of 20s to the ground as he did despite his cool outward appearance his hand shook as he pointed his piece directly at the body he fired four shots and managed to put four bullets into the chest of his former friend

the body shook with my neutral as he'd shot right small holes into the dirty white shirt and pinstripe jacket. Then he lowered the gun, before bringing it back to the side of his head. And pulling the trigger, the hammer clicked into position in the next chamber. But the gun didn't fire. And he took the leather bag from his lap and replaced it under his head as he lay down. The night sky looked calm and peaceful in stark contrast to the typhoon of a moment. motion that welled up within him.

His face twisted uncontrollably, and a frown moved down his cheeks. His tears pooled around his eyes and stung his skin as they rolled down to the ground. His trembling right hand brought the gun back up to his hat, placing the barrel against his temple. It was still warm from the previous four shots against his already prickly hot skin. The gun failed to fire, which caused him to start. start shaking. He continued to pull the trigger. He tightened as the shakes got stronger.

He cried loud as he tried to wrap his mind around why the last two bullets in his six-shooter misfired. The sun rose with a gentle pink hue as minnie's gun repeated its empty clicks. He watched the sky lighten with a large unsettling grin. The grin so large that it broke the dry white skin of his chapped lips. The sun kept rising, accompanied by the heat. His sun-burnt skin formed blisters, and he could swear while little moisture was left within him boiled. He was being cooked, he thought, to himself.

A fresh meal for the vultures that circled above, and the few that sat watching next to the corpse. When he set his friend up and offered to bury the body, he thought Death Valley was an adequate dumping ground. He was more fanciful than literal. But he was wrong for menacing forces that haunt that place. And as Vinny's gotten clicked, he's silently for death. For more information, including pictures and videos of the stories told on this podcast,

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