For this night just tell us a scary story, simple ^^ no prizes are given during this,
Posted: Sun Oct 25, 2015 3:41 pm
Taily Bone
Now it's said that a long time ago a fellow named Jeb took to the foothills of Texas to live off the land. Now old Jeb loved nothin better that a pot of beans with some meat in it, and he'd eat off that pot of beans for a week or more.
Well one winter night old Jeb couldn't find nothin but a scrawny old squrrel to put in his bean pot. He cleaned it, cut it up into pieces and plopped it into his kettle. Leaving his pot and meat and beans there in the fireplace in the red brick chimney, he went out to the firewood pile to gather some wood. He thought about the small bit of meat he shot that day and shook his head. Laughing he grabbed a bundle of logs and went back inside.
Setting them by the door old Jeb was startled when he turned to see this horrid thing sitting near his kettle. It was hideously skinny! All sunken in and white like a corpse. Red eyes that never seemed to blink. Scaly like things all over its body. It stuck it's long neck out and down went the head into the pot. Jeb saw it pull out a nice chunk of meat. In a few snaps it was gone.
Now old Jeb wasn't about to let some dried up reptile with red eyes steal his supper.
"Now you cut that out!" Jeb shouted. "You get going you worthless gila monster!"
To this the creature replied by snapping it's mouth all full of needle sharp teeth. Slapped it's tail twice. It's tail seemed to be the only fatty part of it's body. It seemed rather proud of it's quilled tail.
"Get out of there yuh filthy beast!" Old Jeb shouted, but the lizard only snapped his jaws and slapped his tail again.
"Get out of my vittles and fixins or I'll cut that proud tail of yourn off!"
To this the creature snatched up the last piece of meat. Watching Jeb it took a large gulp of beans. His head turned to a side he watched old Jeb. Then it spat all those beans all over Jeb's face. It laughed with a hissing noise.
This was more than Jeb could take. Using his ax he hacked that fat tail off.
"Taily! Taily! Taily!" The creature howled as it climbed up the chimney.
"Taily! Taily!" It shouted as it ran into the night.
Now Old Jeb sat next to that pot thinking of those meatless beans. Blood was sparyed everywhere and even inside the beans. Near to his foot the tail was still squirming and worming about the floor. Picking it up Jeb was about to toss it away, but he looked at it, and thought "meat's meat." He shrugged his shoulders and used his hunting knife to hack off the spikes. He plopped the tail into his pot. Source(s): He had no idea what that critter was, but he sure thought it tasted pretty good. He cleaned those tail bones clean.
After he was done with the meat he swallowed those bones whole! He loved the flavor that much!
He went right to sleep that night with a belly full of meat.
That following day he shot himself two fat squrriels. As he went home he heard a rustling of the bushes behind him.
"Taily bone! Taillllly bone! All I want's my taillly bone!" A voice rasped.
Jeb grabbed his ax from his belt.
"Who's there!" He barked.
"Taily bone, taily bone! All I want's my taillly bone!" It hissed again.
"Git! Before I cut something else off, yuh lizard!"
The noise stopped, and a few seconds later from further away came.
"Taily bone, taily bone! All I want's my taily bone!"
That night Jeb made a huge fire to make sure the critter wouldn't slither down the chimney again.
His sleep was broken that night by a scratching sounds from his front door. As he sat up he heard it.
"Taily bone! Taiiily bone! All I want's my taily bone!"
"Git, before I have your arm as breakfast tomorrow!" With that the critter vanished.
The next day went as the same as the day before. Jeb was returning home and the critter snuck up behind him.
From the bushes came: "Taily bone, tailly bone! All I want's my taily bone!"
Jeb raised his ax, the creature slunk away.
Old Jeb was awakened again that night, 'cept this time he heard a tapping noise from the window above his bed. He saw a pair of red eyes peering at him from outside.
"Taily bone! Taily bone! All I want's my taiiilly bone!" It snarled.
"Be gone, ya devil!" He brandished his ax. The critter vanished into the nohgt.
The following day again as he returned the critter snuck up behind him again. Jeb warded it off with his ax.
That night his sleep was broken again by a chewing, scraping sound below the house. From under his cabin came.
"Taily bone, taily bone! All I want's my Taily Bone!"
Jeb shouted and pounded on the floor until the thing became silent.
That morning Jeb woke to a scratching sound. It was coming from the leg of his bed! Leaning over Jeb saw a hole in the floor! From under his bed came the familiar voice:
"Taily bone! Taily bone!" The reptile's head appeared.
Jeb reached for his ax finding it missing. In the creature's grasp was the ax. It flung the weapon across the room.
"Taily bone! Taily bone! All I want's my taily bone!"
"It's gone! I ate it!" Jeb shouted.
"Taily bone! Taily Bone! I'll gets my taily bone!"
Jeb's screams where heard clear over to his neighbor's who lived at the foot of Jeb's hill. Now he went rushing up to see what Jeb was screaming about.
He found the front door open wide. He carefully walked into the house. He saw the hole in the floor, then he saw a gruesome sight: Jeb laid on his bed with his guts torn wide open.
Screaming he fled to his house. It took him several hours to calm himself. Finally he rode his horse into town to get the Sheriff. As they rode back to old Jeb's place, they saw a plume of smoke in the sky as they neared the cabin.
When they reached Jeb's cabin they found it burnt to the ground. The only thing remaining was the red brick chimney.
Both were confused about this. They paced their horses about the chimney wondering how the fire started.
A rattling noise came from that chimney. The horses bucked wildly. And from the chimney they heard something that made them run away as fast as they could, and they swore never to go up to that damned cabin ever again.
They say if you find Jeb's Hill, and if you walk through the woods on Jeb's Hill, you might find in those woods a red brick chimney all covered in moss worn by years of weather. And if you find that chimney and if you listen real careful, you might here what those two men heard.
"Taily bone! Taily bone! Now I gots my taily bone!"
by Edgar Allan Poe (1846) THE thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as I best could, but when he ventured upon insult I vowed revenge. You, who so well know the nature of my soul, will not suppose, however, that gave utterance to a threat. At length I would be avenged; this was a point definitely, settled --but the very definitiveness with which it was resolved precluded the idea of risk. I must not only punish but punish with impunity. A wrong is unredressed when retribution overtakes its redresser. It is equally unredressed when the avenger fails to make himself felt as such to him who has done the wrong.
It must be understood that neither by word nor deed had I given Fortunato cause to doubt my good will. I continued, as was my in to smile in his face, and he did not perceive that my to smile now was at the thought of his immolation.
He had a weak point --this Fortunato --although in other regards he was a man to be respected and even feared. He prided himself on his connoisseurship in wine. Few Italians have the true virtuoso spirit. For the most part their enthusiasm is adopted to suit the time and opportunity, to practise imposture upon the British and Austrian millionaires. In painting and gemmary, Fortunato, like his countrymen, was a quack, but in the matter of old wines he was sincere. In this respect I did not differ from him materially; --I was skilful in the Italian vintages myself, and bought largely whenever I could.
It was about dusk, one evening during the supreme madness of the carnival season, that I encountered my friend. He accosted me with excessive warmth, for he had been drinking much. The man wore motley. He had on a tight-fitting parti-striped dress, and his head was surmounted by the conical cap and bells. I was so pleased to see him that I thought I should never have done wringing his hand.
I said to him --"My dear Fortunato, you are luckily met. How remarkably well you are looking to-day. But I have received a pipe of what passes for Amontillado, and I have my doubts."
"How?" said he. "Amontillado, A pipe? Impossible! And in the middle of the carnival!"
"I have my doubts," I replied; "and I was silly enough to pay the full Amontillado price without consulting you in the matter. You were not to be found, and I was fearful of losing a bargain."
"Amontillado!"
"I have my doubts."
"Amontillado!"
"And I must satisfy them."
"Amontillado!"
"As you are engaged, I am on my way to Luchresi. If any one has a critical turn it is he. He will tell me --"
"Luchresi cannot tell Amontillado from Sherry."
"And yet some fools will have it that his taste is a match for your own.
"Come, let us go."
"Whither?"
"To your vaults."
"My friend, no; I will not impose upon your good nature. I perceive you have an engagement. Luchresi--"
"I have no engagement; --come."
"My friend, no. It is not the engagement, but the severe cold with which I perceive you are afflicted. The vaults are insufferably damp. They are encrusted with nitre."
"Let us go, nevertheless. The cold is merely nothing. Amontillado! You have been imposed upon. And as for Luchresi, he cannot distinguish Sherry from Amontillado."
Thus speaking, Fortunato possessed himself of my arm; and putting on a mask of black silk and drawing a roquelaire closely about my person, I suffered him to hurry me to my palazzo.
There were no attendants at home; they had absconded to make merry in honour of the time. I had told them that I should not return until the morning, and had given them explicit orders not to stir from the house. These orders were sufficient, I well knew, to insure their immediate disappearance, one and all, as soon as my back was turned.
I took from their sconces two flambeaux, and giving one to Fortunato, bowed him through several suites of rooms to the archway that led into the vaults. I passed down a long and winding staircase, requesting him to be cautious as he followed. We came at length to the foot of the descent, and stood together upon the damp ground of the catacombs of the Montresors.
The gait of my friend was unsteady, and the bells upon his cap jingled as he strode.
"The pipe," he said.
"It is farther on," said I; "but observe the white web-work which gleams from these cavern walls."
He turned towards me, and looked into my eves with two filmy orbs that distilled the rheum of intoxication.
"Nitre?" he asked, at length.
"Nitre," I replied. "How long have you had that cough?"
My poor friend found it impossible to reply for many minutes.
"It is nothing," he said, at last.
"Come," I said, with decision, "we will go back; your health is precious. You are rich, respected, admired, beloved; you are happy, as once I was. You are a man to be missed. For me it is no matter. We will go back; you will be ill, and I cannot be responsible. Besides, there is Luchresi --"
"Enough," he said; "the cough's a mere nothing; it will not kill me. I shall not die of a cough."
"True --true," I replied; "and, indeed, I had no intention of alarming you unnecessarily --but you should use all proper caution. A draught of this Medoc will defend us from the damps.
Here I knocked off the neck of a bottle which I drew from a long row of its fellows that lay upon the mould.
"Drink," I said, presenting him the wine.
He raised it to his lips with a leer. He paused and nodded to me familiarly, while his bells jingled.
"I drink," he said, "to the buried that repose around us."
"And I to your long life."
He again took my arm, and we proceeded.
"These vaults," he said, "are extensive."
"The Montresors," I replied, "were a great and numerous family."
"I forget your arms."
"A huge human foot d'or, in a field azure; the foot crushes a serpent rampant whose fangs are imbedded in the heel."
"And the motto?"
"Nemo me impune lacessit."
"Good!" he said.
The wine sparkled in his eyes and the bells jingled. My own fancy grew warm with the Medoc. We had passed through long walls of piled skeletons, with casks and puncheons intermingling, into the inmost recesses of the catacombs. I paused again, and this time I made bold to seize Fortunato by an arm above the elbow.
"The nitre!" I said; "see, it increases. It hangs like moss upon the vaults. We are below the river's bed. The drops of moisture trickle among the bones. Come, we will go back ere it is too late. Your cough --"
"It is nothing," he said; "let us go on. But first, another draught of the Medoc."
I broke and reached him a flagon of De Grave. He emptied it at a breath. His eyes flashed with a fierce light. He laughed and threw the bottle upwards with a gesticulation I did not understand.
I looked at him in surprise. He repeated the movement --a grotesque one.
"You do not comprehend?" he said.
"Not I," I replied.
"Then you are not of the brotherhood."
"How?"
"You are not of the masons."
"Yes, yes," I said; "yes, yes."
"You? Impossible! A mason?"
"A mason," I replied.
"A sign," he said, "a sign."
"It is this," I answered, producing from beneath the folds of my roquelaire a trowel.
"You jest," he exclaimed, recoiling a few paces. "But let us proceed to the Amontillado."
"Be it so," I said, replacing the tool beneath the cloak and again offering him my arm. He leaned upon it heavily. We continued our route in search of the Amontillado. We passed through a range of low arches, descended, passed on, and descending again, arrived at a deep crypt, in which the foulness of the air caused our flambeaux rather to glow than flame.
At the most remote end of the crypt there appeared another less spacious. Its walls had been lined with human remains, piled to the vault overhead, in the fashion of the great catacombs of Paris. Three sides of this interior crypt were still ornamented in this manner. From the fourth side the bones had been thrown down, and lay promiscuously upon the earth, forming at one point a mound of some size. Within the wall thus exposed by the displacing of the bones, we perceived a still interior crypt or recess, in depth about four feet, in width three, in height six or seven. It seemed to have been constructed for no especial use within itself, but formed merely the interval between two of the colossal supports of the roof of the catacombs, and was backed by one of their circumscribing walls of solid granite.
It was in vain that Fortunato, uplifting his dull torch, endeavoured to pry into the depth of the recess. Its termination the feeble light did not enable us to see.
"Proceed," I said; "herein is the Amontillado. As for Luchresi --"
"He is an ignoramus," interrupted my friend, as he stepped unsteadily forward, while I followed immediately at his heels. In niche, and finding an instant he had reached the extremity of the niche, and finding his progress arrested by the rock, stood stupidly bewildered. A moment more and I had fettered him to the granite. In its surface were two iron staples, distant from each other about two feet, horizontally. From one of these depended a short chain, from the other a padlock. Throwing the links about his waist, it was but the work of a few seconds to secure it. He was too much astounded to resist. Withdrawing the key I stepped back from the recess.
"Pass your hand," I said, "over the wall; you cannot help feeling the nitre. Indeed, it is very damp. Once more let me implore you to return. No? Then I must positively leave you. But I must first render you all the little attentions in my power."
"The Amontillado!" ejaculated my friend, not yet recovered from his astonishment.
"True," I replied; "the Amontillado."
As I said these words I busied myself among the pile of bones of which I have before spoken. Throwing them aside, I soon uncovered a quantity of building stone and mortar. With these materials and with the aid of my trowel, I began vigorously to wall up the entrance of the niche.
I had scarcely laid the first tier of the masonry when I discovered that the intoxication of Fortunato had in a great measure worn off. The earliest indication I had of this was a low moaning cry from the depth of the recess. It was not the cry of a drunken man. There was then a long and obstinate silence. I laid the second tier, and the third, and the fourth; and then I heard the furious vibrations of the chain. The noise lasted for several minutes, during which, that I might hearken to it with the more satisfaction, I ceased my labours and sat down upon the bones. When at last the clanking subsided, I resumed the trowel, and finished without interruption the fifth, the sixth, and the seventh tier. The wall was now nearly upon a level with my breast. I again paused, and holding the flambeaux over the mason-work, threw a few feeble rays upon the figure within.
A succession of loud and shrill screams, bursting suddenly from the throat of the chained form, seemed to thrust me violently back. For a brief moment I hesitated, I trembled. Unsheathing my rapier, I began to grope with it about the recess; but the thought of an instant reassured me. I placed my hand upon the solid fabric of the catacombs, and felt satisfied. I reapproached the wall; I replied to the yells of him who clamoured. I re-echoed, I aided, I surpassed them in volume and in strength. I did this, and the clamourer grew still.
It was now midnight, and my task was drawing to a close. I had completed the eighth, the ninth and the tenth tier. I had finished a portion of the last and the eleventh; there remained but a single stone to be fitted and plastered in. I struggled with its weight; I placed it partially in its destined position. But now there came from out the niche a low laugh that erected the hairs upon my head. It was succeeded by a sad voice, which I had difficulty in recognizing as that of the noble Fortunato. The voice said--
"Ha! ha! ha! --he! he! he! --a very good joke, indeed --an excellent jest. We will have many a rich laugh about it at the palazzo --he! he! he! --over our wine --he! he! he!"
"The Amontillado!" I said.
"He! he! he! --he! he! he! --yes, the Amontillado. But is it not getting late? Will not they be awaiting us at the palazzo, the Lady Fortunato and the rest? Let us be gone."
"Yes," I said, "let us be gone."
"For the love of God, Montresor!"
"Yes," I said, "for the love of God!"
But to these words I hearkened in vain for a reply. I grew impatient. I called aloud --
"Fortunato!"
No answer. I called again --
"Fortunato!"
No answer still. I thrust a torch through the remaining aperture and let it fall within. There came forth in return only a jingling of the bells. My heart grew sick; it was the dampness of the catacombs that made it so. I hastened to make an end of my labour. I forced the last stone into its position; I plastered it up. Against the new masonry I re-erected the old rampart of bones. For the half of a century no mortal has disturbed them. In pace requiescat!
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