"The Skaggerston Nightmares" drabbles by John Judge
Cruise-Elroy Phenomenon AKA Power Pill Comedown
The Skaggerston Nightmares #55
Meet Henson “Packie” Pacqteau. The Pac-Man.
Foremost authority on illicit substances; purveyor of pills, powders - he’s road testing a new legal high.
Its name: Headwrecker.
His testing ground: The Skaggerston warren - a labyrinth of underground mining tunnels and grottos long abandoned.
But tonight the dank, dreary shafts are illuminated in his mind’s eye. We’re gonna make a fortune.
He tries to text Coco. Damn. No signal.
Better head back, he thinks, as he begins to sober up. Now, which way is out?
A sudden wail in the darkness stops him dead in his tracks. Then another.
It’s getting closer.
Ghost Notes
The Skaggerston Nightmares #41
She’d searched so long for that elusive timing signature to accompany the melody stuck inside her head.
Profoundly dead since eight, there had been no way to drown out the earworm that had burrowed so deep.
But today she had found it! At the Skaggerston hoedown!
People had complained when she’d stormed the stage, demanding the drummer maintain his 7/4 beat. Her father’s pistol ensured compliance.
Now it was just them. She danced around the drummer, ignoring the approaching flashing blue lights.
The beat slowed. Dripping with sweat; terror in his eyes.
She raised the pistol. He dutifully played on.
Discretion Guaranteed #3
The Skaggerston Nightmares #28
“Lots of celebrities use sex tapes to boost their careers.” Brett nervously hugged the cuddly toy.
“That’s different. They’re stage managed. Controlled. Leaked in very specific ways. This is just…” Hansen was stumped.
“What now?”
“We make the call. Then we deal with it. Meantime, you lay low.” The limo glided to a stop; the door opened.
“It was an act of affection. Love, even. Me and Mellisa-”
“Brett, you’re a movie star. An action hero pin-up. And you've just been caught, on webcam, fucking a stuffed animal.”
Brett hung his head.
Marcus dialled the number. Sighed deeply.
Discretion Guaranteed #2
The Skaggerston Nightmares #9
The Phone booth stank of piss; the glass thick with condensation.
Coco opened his vanity mirror. Touched up his facepaint.
This could be the biggest score of my life.
A former children’s entertainer, lost to substance abuse and petty crime, he now worked as The Duke’s enforcer.
He’d ditched the outfit; kept the makeup. My trademark.
Nowadays, he helped The Duchesses with their sideline: blackmail.
Ordinarily, it was the usual freaks webcamming the girls at extortionate rates, but last night one of them had hit the motherlode.
He held the screenprint up as the phone began to ring. Grinned toothlessly.
Faster Than A Speeding Bullet
The Skaggerston Nightmares #8
8.17am
His favourite time of day.
For the 7.25 seconds it took the lift to ascend from the eighth to the ninth floor, Clark was alone.
No emergencies; no catastrophes; the asbestos and lead lining of the elevator blocked out the world and its troubles. Bliss.
Since faking his death, Clark had kept a low profile, his current job slowly sucking the life out of him like Kryptonite.
But now was me time. He pulled the limp wad of vinyl from his satchel; inflated it in one breath.
An Anytime Annie Deluxe Love Doll.
He got through five a week.
Discretion Guaranteed
The Skaggerston Nightmares #5
The phone’s screen lit up the confines of the car boot. She was bent double, wrapped in a tarp; crammed atop gardening implements and power tools.
He’d said he liked to role-play; flashed some cash; she’d played along. Now she was scared. Where is he taking me?
The customer was always right, but this guy was different. She needed the Duke. Why isn’t he answering?
The car began to slow as she checked her GPS location. The canal. She dialled the Duke’s number again. A busy tone
“No!”
The screen dimmed: “LOW BATTERY”
The car jerked to a stop.
Double Vision
The Skaggerston Nightmares #1
The beach was stony; strewn with litter and used syringes. After six weeks without sleep, only the crash of the waves could drown out the other sounds echoing in Frank’s head.
He stared out to sea, watching the sunrise. He’d been here for days, too scared to close his eyes. The salt had rotted the stitching of his suit.
The hypnagogic hallucinations started two weeks ago. Terrifying apparitions augmented in his mind’s eye, projected through his visual cortex, manifested, made real. Why did I take those pills?
Hands shaking, he held the edge of the straight razor to his retina.
