The plant house (standard:horror, 724 words)
Author: Lev821	Added: Mar 01 2007	Views/Reads: 3303/0	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
Buying a plant from this seller is definitley NOT RECOMMENDED.

This had to be the place. It stood out like a cat being entered for
crufts. The house was virtually covered in ivy, and the well maintained 
garden looked like it was to be entered at the Chelsea flower show, 
with a central water feature surrounded with white roses and expertly 
trimmed grass, as though it was the turf of a football pitch 
immediately prior to a cup final. Bill Norward got out of his fiesta 
and approached the wooden gate. He had heard of the reputation of the 
owner of this house. Unsurprisingly, he sold plants, and other 
horticultural items. Bill's grandmother had been taken into hospital, 
having fallen down a set of stairs in her residential home. He hardly 
ever visited her there, so now that she was in hospital, he thought 
he'd better show his face to show he still had some semblance of 
compassion. So where better to buy flowers? rather than at a florists 
where they charged high prices. The person who lived here, sold through 
recommendation, and could not be found advertising. Nor where they in 
the yellow pages. It was not an official business. He grew the flowers 
here, and sold them from here. He opened the well oiled gate and walked 
along a marble path to a sturdy oak door, where the brass knocker was 
in the shape of a rose. He knocked and waited. It was soon opened by a 
frail looking man who must easily be in his eighties. He leaned on a 
walking stick and looked up through thick, black rimmed spectacles, the 
glass of which must be from the same material used in magnifying 
glasses. His eyes were not magnified, just indistinguishable and 
distorted. “Hi,” said Bill, “I understand you sell plants”. The man 
nodded. “That I do,” he said, “Come in”. Bill stepped in and the man 
closed the door behind him. He extended a frail hand, the other gripped 
tightly on the walking stick, keeping him from falling over. “My name 
is Eugene Clemence” he said. Bill shook it and looked around the 
hallway. Everywhere where there could be a plant, there was one. All 
available corners had been taken, even each side of every step leading 
upstairs. “My water bill isn't cheap,” said Eugene with a smile. He 
walked along the hallway to a door at the back, which Bill assumed led 
into the kitchen. “The plants here are not for sale,” said Eugene. 
“Those ones are through here”. He opened the door and gestured Bill 
through. He found he wasn't in the kitchen, but in a room the size of a 
small bedsit. There were shelves full of plants, and Bill could not 
make out any part of any wall. There were some scattered randomly on 
the floor. “Take your pick,” said Eugene, “I'll get you a cup of tea”. 
Before Bill could refuse, he had gone through another door which Bill 
assumed again to lead into the kitchen. How could he refuse a cup of 
tea from such a dear old man? Bill mused, and then noticed something 
that had not registered when he'd entered. In the middle of the room, 
there was a table. There was nothing special about it. It was a 
typical, cheap dining table, but on it, there was a briefcase, with 
both latches up. Bill's curiosity was piqued, and he listened for 
sounds of Eugene, but he could not make anything out. All he had to do 
was open it, he thought, see what was inside, and close it, back the 
way it was when he found it. He stepped across to it, listened once 
more incase Eugene was on his way back, and found that he wasn't, so 
carefully opened the briefcase, only to be greeted by a cloud of yellow 
smoke, or steam. It billowed around his face and Bill could not help 
but breathe it in. Its effect was immediate, and as Bill could feel 
consciousness slipping away, he also felt himself dissolving, like 
paracetamol in water. Darkness enveloped his mind and he could feel no 
more. After a good five minutes, Eugene came into the room, sure that 
all the gas had gone. He looked at the open briefcase and grinned. 
“They never can resist” he said quietly, and looked down at the new 
plant on the floor. 


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