Free Fearsome Things: Five Short Tales of Horror and Suspense by Anthony M. Strong

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Evil Eye
     
     
    JACK FLETCHER WAS NOT A HAPPY MAN. Not happy at all. Two minutes and a toilet break, that was all it took. He was on the way back to his desk when the telephone rang. And there was Jerry, good old over ambitious Jerry, bounding from his cubical in the direction of Jack’s phone, answering it, taking the order, Jack’s big order that he’d been working on for a month, not to mention his commission. Had he been a man to handle difficult situations with a measure of fortitude Jack might have shrugged the incident off and moved on, but he was not.
    That’s why, later that evening, he found himself perched on a barstool in the Laughing Barrel, a dive bar ten minutes walk from the three room apartment he’d taken not because he liked it, but because he could afford it. Sales were an up and down business, and recently things were leaning toward down.
    He starred, sullen, into his Scotch as if the amber liquid might contain some deeper truth, instead of just melting ice and a black plastic stir stick. He downed the drink in one, relishing the burn as it worked its way to his stomach, and then pushed the empty glass across the bar. One drink would not cut it, not tonight.
    The bartender was nowhere to be found, as usual. He glanced around the bar, his eyes resting on the chalkboard propped near the door. Darts on Tuesday, Quiz night every Wednesday, and a band called Slow Death at 9pm on Saturday. He wondered why he came here. He hated music, quiz night was lame, and as for darts… He sure would have liked something sharp to throw at Jerry though. That would be sweet.
    “Same again?” The incredible disappearing bartender had emerged from wherever he’d been hiding.
    “Sure. Why not. Make it a double this time.”
    “You alright?” The bartender pulled a bottle from the well and filled Jack’s glass. “You look like you lost a dollar and found a penny.”
    “Ain’t that the truth?” Jack ran a finger around the rim of his glass. “Except I didn’t find the penny.”
    “Tough day huh?”
    “The worst. Got screwed out of my biggest sale this year, twenty thousand units, and all because I needed to pee. Goddam Jerry.”
    “Jerry?”
    “Just some shithead at the office. Can you believe I worked on that deal for weeks only to have him answer the phone and take the goddamned order? A thousand bucks of commission, gone.”
    “Well, better luck next time.”
    “Yeah. Next time. Luck won’t pay the bills though that’s for sure.” Jack could feel the anger rising again. A tight knot that started in his stomach and worked it’s way up until it clumped in his throat. He swigged the whisky. It didn’t help, not yet. Maybe a few more and it would.
    “So get even with the son of a bitch.” The bartender fixed him with a deadpan stare. “Give him a taste of his own medicine.”
    “Sounds grand. Any ideas?”
    “Yeah, I do as a matter of fact. Guy came in here just last night and showed me this killer app. Seems like it’d be just what the doctor ordered.”
    “An App.” Jack finished his drink and watched the bartender refill it for the third time. “You mean one of those phone things.”
    “Sure. There’s an app for everything these days.”
    “Even revenge?”
    “Even that. Give me your phone.”
    “I’m really not in the mood for games.”
    “It’s not a game. You’ll like it. Come on, the phone.”
    “It’s free, right?” Jack pulled his phone out and handed it to the bartender.
    “Of course.” The bartender fixed his attention on the cell phone. “There.” He handed the device back.
    Jack looked at the phone, at the new icon that had fixed itself to his home screen, a glowing red circle with a bright blue eye in the middle. “What now?”
    “Start her up.”
    “Okay then.” Jack pressed the icon. The screen flickered for a second. Four words appeared on a flame red background, Evil Eye, The App . The letters faded and a text box popped up.