The Monkey-Man
The story begins in a house. The house on the corner of Philippines and Gravens. This house was not like any of the other houses on the street. The seemingly quaint and lovely street abruptly ended at the sight of this house. This house was the house of Jase. The killer monkey-man...
The monkey-man was looney. His hair was a mess. Each strand tying seemingly untyable knots. His skin was rough and callused. His voice was that of a bear. His eyes so black they trap you in a pit of darkness. He was lord of all reeses. He was the monkey-man.
The monkey-man wasn’t a very pleasant person to be around. He growled at everything foe or friend. His snarling could scare even the most hardened veteran. He had metal in his teeth. He used this metal to rip at the throats of his victims.
It all started on an April day. At this time the monkey-man was unfamiliar to him and anyone else in the world. At this time he was know as Woodley Zhuravlyov. He was happily skipping to the flower shop singing a lovely song. The flowershop wasn’t a popular place. This was probably because the owner was allegedly accused of killing her late husband, Franklin Price. The monkey-man knew this and supported her in the trial. The shop owner was found not guilty, and since then they had been close friends. The monkey-man felt sorry for her and went to her shop every thursday. It had become so much of a habit that he hardly even noticed.
Though this day was different than the other days. The air more…. sinister. The birds
had ceased their chirping, the wind it’s blowing, and the sun it’s shining. The monkey-man noticed this as a shiver ran down his spine. He knew that after today everything would be different, whether it be good or bad. He spent the rest of the way pondering the possible outcomes that the days tasks could bring him.
“Mrs. Price?” Woodley asked as he gingerly opened the door.
“Im here Woodley,” Mrs. Price answered expectantly.
The flower shop was musty and damp. Woodley didn’t notice this though. His attention was stolen by the expression on Mrs. Prices face. She was smiling. Woodley hadn’t seen her smile since before the funeral.
“Woodley,” Mrs. Price said, “I have a surprise for you”.
“And what would that be Amanda?” said Woodley inquisitively.
“I have 24 hours to live my child,” Amanda said calmly
“Amanda that isn't good news, its horrible news!” Woodley’s voice cracking from the sudden overwhelming sadness.
“I know, I know.” said Amanda with the same calmness as a person who just learned they would live for ever would.
“Then, what are you so happy about?” said Woodley.
“You are my sole heir,” Amanda said happily, “I am giving you everything including my house on the corner of Philippines and Gravens”.





Shall the story continue? We may never know.