The Landlady (continuation)

March 2, 2011
Suddenly, Billy realized the true nature of the landlady. She was a terrible, old witch, killing and stuffing her poor, unfortunate victims. He wondered how it was she killed them when he felt like he was running out of breath. The tea!, he thought to himself. She must have poisoned the tea. I need to get out of here…

“If you don’t mind, ma’am, I will head off to bed now. I must wake up early tomorrow to get a head start at the office.”

“Of course, my dear,” the wicked landlady responded. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like more tea?”

“No, thank you. It was very delicious,” Billy said, already turning toward the stairs.

“Well goodnight, and pleasant dreams, Mister… Don’t tell me… Weaver! Mr. Weaver!” the landlady replied with a sinister smile.

Billy practically bounded up the stairway, taking three steps at a time. When he reached his room, he closed the door and locked it securely. He tried to open the window to let some fresh air in, but it was tightly shut. The poison from the tea was slowly killing him, constricting his air passageway as if a killer snake was gradually wrapping itself around his neck and firmly squeezing his throat. I have to get out of this place, Billy said to himself. I’ll pack my things and leave in the dead of night.

He packed his bag and left it at the foot of his bed, slightly open as to fool the wicked landlady if she were to enter the room. Once he was fully packed, he slipped into bed, heaving deep, heavy breaths as to obtain maximum oxygen.

About fifteen minutes later, the landlady walked up the stairs and peeked into Billy’s room. He was still awake and saw the shadow of the evil witch standing out on the white-painted walls. She whispered something Billy could not hear, closed the door, and descended the stairs down to her room.

Billy stayed in bed for another five minutes, ensuring that the landlady had already fallen asleep. Then he stood up, closed his suitcase, and exited the room. The poison had been inside him for twenty minutes now, so he was taking in incredibly loud breaths. He hoped that they weren’t loud enough for the wicked landlady to hear as he descended down the stairs past her room. Once he reached the bottom of the stairway, he looked behind him to make sure the witch was not following him. Once he was sure she wasn’t behind him, Billy continued toward the door. He stopped short to catch his breath, the poison still circulating through his body. Once he could breathe again, he turned the lock of the front door and left the once warm and comforting bed and breakfast.

Billy staggered down the street, his bag swinging wildly at his side. He barely made it into the police station, where a police officer immediately called for an ambulance. On the way to the hospital, Billy passed out and didn’t recover until ten hours later.

“Where am I?” he asked the nurse who was standing at the side of his hospital bed.

“You’re going to be all right, Mr. Weaver,” she said kindly. “You were just poisoned with potassium cyanide. It was a miracle you made it here alive. The poison was almost completely spread out in your entire body.”

“That wicked landlady!!!” Billy exclaimed loudly. “She should rot in hell!”

“Wait a second,” the nurse said. “It was a landlady who poisoned you?”

“Yes!!! A creepy, wicked, horrible landlady! She poisons her victims and then stuffs them and keeps them in her house!!!”

“This is serious! Let me call the police right away. They will be able to capture and imprison that monstrous, old witch.”

The nurse hurried out of the room and up to the check-in desk. She quickly muttered to the lady behind the desk to get the police station on the phone. She picked up the phone, dialed the numbers, and gave it to the nurse. Billy then saw the nurse quickly speak into the receiver and hang up. The nurse returned and said, “The police are on their way. They want to know everything about this landlady you stayed with.”

No more than five minutes later did Billy hear the sirens of a police car. He saw two policemen hurriedly walk up to the front desk and ask the woman where Billy was. The lady pointed, and the policeman followed her finger to Billy.

“Hello, Billy. My name is Officer Thomas, and this is Officer James. Now I need you to tell me everything that happened to you with the landlady.”

Billy explained everything to them, including where she lives, what she did to him, and who else were victims to her hideous crimes.

“Thank you, Mr. Weaver. We will go to this landlady’s home and take her into custody. We may need you as a witness so stand by for questioning.”

Billy nodded to them, and they left the hospital. The nurse told Billy he should get some sleep, so he closed his eyes and fell asleep.

Five minutes later, the policemen arrived at the landlady’s bed and breakfast. They rang the doorbell, and when they received no answer, they busted down the door and entered the building. They searched the house, but they found no landlady. However, they did find a stuffed dog and parrot, and two stuffed bodies, probably the victims Billy had mentioned. They searched again, but no one was there. The landlady had left.

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