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323 Potion Houser Road

323 Potion Houser Road

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323 Potion Houser Road

85 pagine
1 ora
Oct 30, 2014


In the small, rustic town of Gastonia, North Carolina, Johnny Shull is leading a double life.
Most of the townspeople regard him as a caring boyfriend, an honest businessman, and a model citizen. But Becky Barnes, a former prostitute and Johnny’s current girlfriend, knows better. Becky has discovered that Johnny is a sex pervert and serial killer, committing gruesome murders of all those who he believes wronged him. He kills his victims by slow torture, making sure they suffer every step of the way until their deaths.
Then Becky discovers something just as stunning: Johnny may not be committing these murders alone.
Who is helping Johnny murder all these people, and for what purpose? And how will Becky deal with the fact that the man she loves is actually a monster who might murder her too?
From the start, the pace of the story never lets up until its surprising, ironic conclusion.
Note: This work contains explicit sexual situations and scenes of extreme violence. It is intended for adults only.

Oct 30, 2014

Informazioni sull'autore

Hi! My name is Michael Arnold. I live in the small, boring town of Gastonia, North Carolina, located fifteen minutes from Charlotte, North Carolina. There is more excitement in Charlotte, so I cannot complain about my boring town of Gastonia, right? I assist my mother, who is blind and has been blind all of her life. However, for some odd reason, she helps me just as much as I help her. My mother would often say: "Hi Michael! I cooked chicken and I made sure I cooked enough for you!" "Thanks mom!" I would reply. I love writing. I have been writing since 2004. I'm still learning how to become a better writer daily. Stephen King is my favorite author, although I have never written any horror short stories. I enjoy reading his work because he knows how to tell a story. I chose “Smashwords” because I believe Mark Coker has provided an opportunity for unknown authors to post books online. This is absolutely splendid! I have posted a few books online. Please read them when you have the time. My promise is that you would not regret that decision. I love to read and write. Fortunately, I have a few books to share. I do it because of the love I have for writing. “Smashwords” has provided the opportunity to share what began as “sketchy” thoughts, to the development of a complete short story or novel for your enjoyment. Thanks to all who have taken the time to view this page, download my samples, books, and short stories .

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323 Potion Houser Road - Michael Arnold

323 Potion Houser Road

By Michael Arnold

Smashwords Edition

323 Potion Houser Road

By Michael Arnold © 2014

All rights reserved.

Note: This work contains explicit sexual situations and scenes of extreme violence. It is intended for adults only.

Table of Contents


Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9


In public, he seemed to love and care for Becky Barnes. And the people who knew her and her boyfriend, Johnny Shull, hailed him as one of the most generous men in town. But behind closed doors, in Becky Barnes’ eyes, he wasn’t anything like that. Johnny was the same ole wood-choppin’, alcohol-drinkin’, sex-driven, abusive sumbitch that he’d been when she first met him. He may cover it up for the people he sells his goddamn wood to, Becky thought. But I know him; he ain’t shit, and he can’t cover nothing up with me!

Becky would often ask herself why she would slave over the stove, barefoot most of the time, wearing nothing but a T-shirt and see-through underwear. The reason is he wanted to see her curves, and the only way he could see every inch of them was in a T-shirt and panties, so he said.

It was cute, kind of sexy at first! Becky remembered telling her friends, the first time Johnny had made his perverted request known to her. But then it got weird like, scary almost, she had said. I caught him touching himself and enjoying that more than him actually having sex with me!

That’s his foreplay, Becky. Come on; get with it. Johnny is much older than you, and he needs something more to stimulate him down there before the actual sex. I would love to have a man like Johnny, who doesn’t just rush in with that wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am kind of fuck, and then he’s out of there. He isn’t enjoying his foreplay more, Becky; he’s just enjoying it, that’s all. No worries!

But Becky knew better. She knew why he wanted her in her T-shirt and panties, and what he was doing while she was wearing them. Stand on your tippy-toes; I want to see your wrinkled soles! Oh yeah, just like that, give me those soles!

Fuckin’ pervert, Becky thought. I refuse to be an object for his perverted ways. I won’t any longer!

"Get back here, you fucking bitch. Now!" Johnny yelled.

No! she screamed. I am not some tool you can just use for your perverted shit, Johnny. I am a woman, and I am your girlfriend, and I expect to be treated as such!

You bitch. You fucking bitch, are you back talking the hand that beeds you? In his slurred speech from his drunken state, feeds came out beeds, yet Becky knew exactly what he was saying. She stopped just short of the front door. She didn’t say anything, nor did she move beyond the front door.

I took your ass off that road from whoring. I helped your ass. You couldn’t help your fucking self, you ungrateful bitch. Now you get back in my kitchen, and get my supper done, and stand on those tippy-toes before I take this ax to you, woman! Johnny said. He lifted his small ax, which had droplets of dried blood on it, and put it against Becky’s throat; a moment later, he pulled it back.

Becky knew that if Johnny did attack her physically, it would be no contest. Johnny was a burly lumberjack, over six feet tall, who knew how to wield an ax; Becky was petite, only five feet four. Fearful that he would ax her to death if she turned her back on him, she turned her head to keep her eye on Johnny until she got to the kitchen.

His groans were loud as he resumed pleasuring himself. Dontcha look at me. I said cook my dinner! She gave Johnny a short, snarling grimace. Then they heard the loud bark of a dog in the back of their house.

That goddamn dog is a pain in the ass. The moment I get my hand on that little son of a bitch –the things I’m going to do to it to shut its yapper for good! Johnny yelled. Halloween’s a-comin’, and I got some tricks up my fucking sleeb for that pooch, I bet ya!

I thought the word is sleeve, you dumb bastard, Becky thought. Johnny popped the top of his tenth beer, chugged it, and then stumbled into the kitchen. What is it now, Johnny?

You know what it is, BB; it hasn’t been taken care of in a long, long time. The last time was when I roasted a crow in a blizzard, champagne spilled on a rich bitch, and I took a piss on the next-door neighbor’s car, all at the same fuckin’ time! Johnny said. He pushed himself against Becky’s backside while she still managed to stand on her tippy-toes.

You still not telling me nothin’, Johnny. If you want this food cooked, you should let me cook your food. I can’t be distracted if you want your food done!

"I tend to what I please, BB, and you tend to your duties. And that’s cooking mah grits, cornbread, and damn hot sausage – now!"

Becky rolled her eyes in great disgust as Johnny’s push became harder and the combined smell of alcoholic breath and chewing tobacco saturated her brain. Your breath smells bad, Johnny. You need to go and brush your teeth!

Are you screwing with me, woman? Becky acted as if she didn’t hear him. I said, are you fucking screwing with me? Johnny grabbed her by her arm and turned her face toward his. I asked you a fucking question, and I expect a goddamn answer! He pulled her even closer.

Johnny’s breath was bad before, but now with his face only inches away from hers, it was plain horrible. No, I’m not screwing with you now. May I please continue fixing your dinner?

Yeah, I think you are screwing with me, BB. I reckon you need to be taught a lesson, a good ol’ fuckin’ lesson! Johnny said. Then he grabbed Becky by her shoulder-length brown and blonde hair and threw her onto the floor.

No, Johnny! What do you think you’re doing?

I’m tired of all your rough talk. You getting too big for your goddamn britches, and ol’ Johnny Boy goin’ to shorten you back up a bit.

"Don’t do what I think you’re goin’ to do, Johnny;

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