No Gein: An Alternate Horror Part Ten

Posted: October 19, 2020 in No Gein Stories, No Gein: An Alternate Horror
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Part Ten: Deranged

George worked a lot of overtime to afford the VIP party after the convention closed. He was glad Robert Bloch spoke on the panel, because he might not have recognized him otherwise. With his usual gregariousness he approached the man he’d been corresponding with for the first time. “Robert Bloch!” he said. “I’m the one you’ve been writing too.” 

“Of course you are.” Robert said, raising his glass to him.

“So, what did you think of my story?”

“It was terrible.” the acclaimed author said in an instant.

George froze solid as if he’d been dowsed in liquid nitrogen, for once in his life he was at a total loss for words.

Robert burst into laughter as someone patted him on the shoulder saying “You were always great at encouragement Bloch! Is that how Lovecraft talked to you?”

“What he said to me was even worse!” Bloch laughingly replied.

“Yeah, I’ll bet!” The man laughed loud along with Robert before going to get himself a drink.

Seeing the young fan was still standing there, Robert said, “Let’s try this again.” and reached his hand out to introduce himself. “I’m Robert Bloch, what can I do ya for?”

“George Kohler.” He gave the author a strong handshake. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Ok, that name is ringing a bell.” Bloch now recalled as his hand was released from the exuberant fan’s mighty grip. “You sent me a story, what was it called?”

“Well, I started it as a screenplay when I was in film school, but after I left film school, I decided to write it out as a novel and…”

Bloch’s eyes rolled as he asked, “And the name of this soon to be classic of American literature?”

“My story I wrote was called Deranged.” George said proudly.

Bloch registered recognition as he recalled the gruesome tale. “Ah yes,” noticing the Zodiac Killer shirt Robert remarked “I should have known it was you when I saw that shirt.”

“Yeah, I forgot my Zodiac mask at home. Totally sucks.”

Bloch’s voice trailed off as he replied. “Hmm that’s such a shame.” 

“Yeah, it blows donkey balls.” 

“Haha, I wouldn’t know, I’m more of a sheep man myself.”

George was loving the author’s humor. After letting out another good laugh he then asked, “Anyway what did you think of my story?”

“Well, it was pretty gruesome, I’ll give you that.”

“Yeah, cool!” he nodded.

“Hmm, well let’s get a drink and sit down.”

As they sat down at a nearby table, George reached into his bag for what he wanted to give to the author. He’d forgotten he’d just purchased two of Bloch’s books. Pulling those out, he asked the author to sign them.

“I’d be happy to.” Opening up American Gothic and beginning his inscription, Robert said “That Holmes, he was a real evil man.”

“Yeah, that torture chamber was nuts!” Geroge smiled with pleasure.

Now signing the second book Robert began, “So your story, well it was quite gruesome in the details, I didn’t understand what the motivation was. What would drive a man so do such unspeakable things?”

“I don’t know, he’s just nuts.” George said matter of fact like.

Handing the books back to his fan, Bloch then asked. “Ok, so let’s look at it this way, what inspired you to write your story?”

“Well, when I was a kid, I had this aunt who had this really crazy story.”

The author keyed in on George’s use of the past tense, “You ‘had’ and aunt?”

“Yeah, she was in and out of mental institutions a lot, and eventually she killed herself.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Robert said in sympathy.

“Yeah, anyway when she was a kid one time, she stole her dad’s car and ran off. Story goes she ran out of gas and got stuck near this old farmhouse. My aunt got out of the car and went into the house to get help. When my aunt went inside, she said there were bodies everywhere!” George grew very animated as he told this part of the story. “Heads were hanging on the wall and all this gruesome shit! That’s what I put in my story. Then she said something chased her out of the house with a gun.”

“Some THING?” The author stressed the word ‘thing.’

“That’s what my aunt always said. It had long hair like a chic, but it squealed like an animal. It chased her right out of there. Later the cops found her and brought her home. That’s how the story goes at least.”

“That sounds awful. Did the police ever investigate?”

“Nah,” George said dismissively. “My aunt was always messed up on drugs. She was like a beatnik and was always going on about something. One time it would be UFO’s, another time it would be Atlantis, you know the type.”

Robert nodded. “I guess I do.”

“Yeah, but that one story she always stuck with though.” George stated. “She told that story a lot and it never changed. Would have made one hell of a movie!”

“Could have been worse than Chainsaw.” Robert quietly pondered.

“Yeah man.” George’s mind instantly lit up with the possibilities. “If they combined the hillbillies in chainsaw with the shit my aunt saw. Jesus, that would be the most terrifying movie ever made!”

Robert was cautiously skeptical yet still disturbed. “I’d never heard a story like this before.” He then asked. “Did this supposedly happen around here?”

“No, I’m from Wisconsin originally. Ever hear of a town called Amherst?” 

“Oh, I see.” Robert answered. “No, I can’t say that I have.”

“Well, that’s one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you.” Before putting the books away, he pulled out a manilla folder from his bag. “I know you’re from Milwaukee.” he said as he slid the folder across the table. “This is the basic information about what happened. If you ever had a chance, I thought you could look into it.”

“Well, I live in Los Angeles now.” Bloch said. “I’m sure you’re aware they don’t film much television or film in the great state of Wisconsin.”

“Oh right.” In a rare moment, George’s voice deflated with enthusiasm. Given he’d been sending letters to Bloch’s Los Angeles address, it didn’t occur to him that the author might not be spending much time in the plain states. 

“Well, you took this time to put this together, let’s see what we have.” He opened the folder to look at a few sheets of paper with notes written on it.

“I don’t have much to go on.” George hesitantly cautioned.

“Plainfield Wisconsin,” Bloch looked at the pages. “Never heard of that place either. Fall of 1957,” he continued to read, there was a brief description of what his aunt reported, along with the description of George’s grandfather’s car and a few other notes, including Sally’s suicide and George’s home address.

“Well, I do visit the old homestead on occasion.” Robert said, closing the folder. “Next time I do I can give it a look.”

“That would be awesome!” George said. They spent the short time they had remaining talking about writing and the business.

Thank you all for your support of this story thus far. There will be seven more chapters of ghoulish mayham and alternate history which will be spaced out from now till Halloween. On a less macabe note please remain safe and take care of yourselves. Just think, we’re almost done with this horrific year!

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