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Where is Peter Venkman When You Need Him?

Who wants to hear a scary story? Of course you do! So go on and grab your marshmallows and gather ‘round the campfire boys and girls. I have a spoooooooky story just for you.
Once upon a time a beautiful Princess who loves prime numbers and ice cream cake went on a vacation with an awful little Troll.
The end. Wasn’t that scary? Ha ha. Well, it is, but that’s not the story.
So anyway the beautiful Princess and the Troll went hiking in the mystical Highlands of Scotland. After their second day of hiking they approached the inn at the trailhead to find there were no rooms left. The oddly-matched pair continued to Glencoe, where they found a delightful Scottish inn.
Glencoe, the village, is quite a lovely spot. During the day, that is. At night the wind blows in an air of uncertainty, almost knocking you off balance a little. The village’s history is quite interesting, and includes a bloody massacre in the 1690’s of the clan MacDonald by members of the clan Campbell one cold winter night. Legend has it that the attempts to escape death can still be heard if you listen closely.
As chance would have it, the beautiful Princess and her toady, little Troll were staying in the last room vacant, the MacDonald room. While they settled into their modest room and took turns getting ready for dinner there was a loud crash in the bathroom.
“Hey Troll, are you okay?” the Princess called from the sleeping room to the bathroom.
“Yeah babe, I’m fine, why?” the Troll (who was a lot less trolly when he was cleaned up and acting properly) responded.
“That crash, did you drop something heavy on the floor in there?”
“Nope.”
“Hhhmmm…must have been something on the tele. Ha ha ha ha the tele. These British people are so silly with their funny words.”
And with that they headed out to dinner without giving any more thought to it. After a nice, hearty meal they returned to their room to get in some much-needed sleep for their hike the next day. They got into their jammies, and brushed their teeth, and told each other that they loved each other, and snuggled into bed with tired muscles and sleepy brains.
But then there was another noise. This noise was coming from outside the window. It was like a faint calling or someone trying to get your attention.
“Hey Princess, do you hear that?” the Troll whispered.
“Yes, now go to sleep,” the Princess replied.
“What is it?” asked the Troll.
“I don’t know and don’t care please just go to sleep.”
“It’s a rooster. I bet it’s a rooster outside our window.”
“That is not a rooster now please go to sleep.”
“If it’s not a rooster then what is it? Do you still hear it?”
“You don’t need to know, we are safe, now all you need to do is be calm and go to sleep.”
“But it’s still there.”
“Shut the fuck up and go to goddamn sleep and forget you heard anything you little idiot”, the Princess forcefully uttered to the troll.
And then there was silence. The Princess, laying on her right side with her back to the window and her eyes shut, could hear the Troll’s breath, while quietly controlling her own, as not to make a peep. At that moment she felt a pressure along the whole left side of her body, not pushing her down into the mattress but rather feeling like a heavy blanket or x-ray smock laying on her. She held her breath and soon drifted off to sleep.
The morning greeted the travelers with a sunshiny smile and the fuzzy head of a heavy sleep. They packed in silence and went to the breakfast room to eat before heading out for the day.
While eating the Princess asked the friendly, and very pregnant, waitress if there was any special history of the area, trying not to give away that the princess was almost positive that they’d been visited last night by a spirit. The waitress looked apprehensive and explained the history of the massacre, including its location, which was near the area of the hotel.
The Princess thanked her and went on eating her eggs, avoiding her black pudding.
“Why did you ask that? It was just a rooster,” the troll said.
“That was no fucking rooster, I can tell you that much. I’m going to use the ladies’ room before we leave. Meet me at check out in 5 minutes?” the Princess chirped.
“Sure.”
On their way toward the trailhead the Troll looked at the beautiful Princess and said, “listen, you might have been right about that rooster thing.”
“I asked you not to mention it again”, the Princess responded flatly.
“Right, but while you were in the bathroom, I heard the innkeeper and the waitress talking while I was around the corner and they couldn’t see me. She said to him that people who stayed in the MacDonald room were asking about the town again in a weird way. And that people who stay in that room ask about it all the time. And then she said that she would bet her baby’s life on it that there’s something weird going on in there.”
“Oh great, I am going to have nightmares about this forever.”
“But you were right, it wasn’t a rooster, there really was something.”
With that, the couple began their hike for the day, avoiding the subject all together. And the princess never let the troll forget that she was right. Usually about everything.

3 responses to “Where is Peter Venkman When You Need Him?”

  1. paypar paypar says:

    Why do I get the feeling this is a true story and the troll is an ex you don't care for very much? LOL

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