sweet store of doom

Untitled Part 1

It was a day just like any other, I made my way down the street, a routine that I knew I would be able to follow even in my sleep. Even as I tread the old worn down path, I felt the sense of euphoria taking over me as I jangled my money. It sounded like sweet bells in my pocket. It had been quite a while since I had been in the village but I could still name and recognise very single crack and pebble: I peered through the large glass window and looked for the large array of colourful, magical, tasty treats that usually welcomed me in, however, it rather dark from the inside—maybe the shop had had a new coat of paint or something while I was gone, after all it had been quite a while since I had been there. However there was something else that I found to be quite unsettling. Mr Partridge was nowhere in sight...

Gingerly pulled open the door, a foisty damp stench seared through my nose, assaulting it from all angles. "Hello?" I spluttered, "Mr Partridge?" There was no one in sight, "It's only me" I added cautiously stepping hard onto the cold wooden floor and being sure to kick a piece of newspaper in between the door and the wall. I walked up to the counter, staring at the red jars. This was not like Mr Partridge, first of all he was never ever late for his job, secondly, the lights were always on so people could see in, and thirdly he would always have kids queuing from outside of the door by now. Memories of Mr Partridge filled my mind, his plump, warm figure would always be standing waiting for me with some fruity chews waiting, they were what I liked the best, or sherbet lemons. It used to be a daily thing, just before school I would visit his shop and stuff my pockets, ready for the long day of labour that I would have to face. He was the kind of man who, if I was short on money would say "You can pay it tomorrow" but we both knew that the 5p or whatever, would be forgotten about and never paid. I must have owed that man 100's of pounds by now. While I was stuck in my memory someone had come to the counter, arrived unnoticed.

The character was not the plump, warm figure that I had grown to know and love over the years, it had been replaced by a tall, slim, rather intimidating looking person who loomed over me. "Whaddya want?" he snapped. Again I studied the red bits in the jars. That was unlike any jelly I had ever seen. But that looked like all that there was, on the counter I saw a brown box with "Chocolate fingers" scribbled on it. I didn't dare think whose fingers. "Where is Mr Partridge?" I asked nervously, but I was ignored. "Out with it son! Whaddya want!?" he snarled louder. Slowly a bead of sweat trickled down my forehead. Desperately I looked around for something that might not contain organic matter. "J-just some sherbet lemons please" I uttered shakily. He looked slightly irritated "You always get those don't you?" He asked "Why don't you try some wine gums or some chewing gums?" I studied the scarlet slush in the jars once more, and shook my head violently. As he turned round to pick something up from underneath the counter I contemplated dashing out of the door and running for my life. It wasn't an option, just as if he was reading my mind the paper blew out of the door and it clicked shut. Locked. I had to get out of there.

Just then he dropped the package on the counter and extended a hand for his money. "Wh-where is Mr Partridge?" I demanded once more, although I think I already knew the answer. "He's around" he hissed, showing a shark like grin. I backed away into the wall of the shop, his cold grey eyes followed me to the wall...