The Psy Penny Dreadful # 1

A Short Story by Max M. Power

I grew up reading comic books, Reader’s Digest, poetry chapbooks, and pick your journey short story books. I loved these books and have always wanted to be published in one.

When I would watch movies and TV shows about the old west, I discovered dime novels. I thought how cool it would be to buy a story for only a dime.

The first story of mine to ever be published by someone else, other than myself, was inside a Penny Dreadful. I enjoyed writing short stories for the Dreadful, however, sadly, there were only six issues of the Dreadful published.

Instead of waiting for someone else to start publishing a Penny Dreadful, I have decided to publish my own. I hope you enjoyed this Dime Penny Dreadful.

“So, what did you do?”
“Me,” Chad asked nervously, looking up to see who was talking to him. A tall slender man in a suit had just sat down at the other end of the bench, his jacket folded over his arms. “Are you my lawyer?”
“Me,” the slender man answered with a light chuckle. “I’m waiting on them to take me inside the courtroom,” he said, motioning with his head to the police officers at the entrance of the hallway.
Chad looked over, surprised to see the two large muscular police officers watching them both.
“What the hell did you do,” Chad blurted out softly, so they couldn’t be overheard.
“I killed a pig on my own property,” the man answered calmly, in a normal tone.
“And they arrested you for that? I thought that was legal here in Texas.”
“Guess it depends on the type of pig,” the man said with a smirk. “He was a big son of a bitch too. Took a while before he stopped squealing.”
“Don’t you just shoot them,” Chad asked confused, still speaking softly.

“That depends too. I was checking on my crop when I saw the pig. Granted I did have my rifle on me, but I didn’t want to get blood on my crop. Harder to sell if I do.”
The man smiled to himself at the thought before continuing.
“I have all different kinds of traps set up and knew he was about to step into one so I pretended not to notice and WHAM, he stepped onto the trap.”
“I smiled,” he continued with a joyful tone in his voice. “I don’t like pigs poking around where they don’t belong. He started squealing, getting louder and louder with each cry. When I got closer I took out my machete and got down low, just in case the trap was getting loose from him struggling.”
“I waited for him to tire himself out and I was able to tie his legs together and drag him back to my barn so I could hang him up and bleed him out. As I began to lift him in the air he came to and started thrashing about. You ever see a pig when he knows he’s about to be slaughtered?”
“No,” Chad said, hanging on the man’s every word.
“Well, that’s when he’s most dangerous. His body starts swinging around on the rope, trying to knock you over or grab a hold, anything to pull himself free. As he was swinging straight toward me, I was able to plunge my Bowie knife deep into his chest, pulling down toward his head. I let gravity do the rest.”

“That pig twitched as he bled out. I watched him closely as the life drained out of his body. I was so entranced by it all that I did not notice his friends had surrounded me. Now, here I am.”
“Come on Joe,” another man in a suit said as he stood in front of him. “We need to go over a few things before the judge shows up.”
“Well kid,” the slender man said as he stood up slowly. “Good luck on your case, whatever it is.”
“Yeah,” Chad said, looking up at the man. “You too, I hope you get off.”
The two men began to walk away as Chad let out a long nervous breath. He stood up as one of the police officers walked over to him.
“Excuse me, Officer. Can you tell me who that man was?”
“Don’t you watch the news,” the Officer answered disgusted at having to say the name. “You were just talking to Joseph Moses Ramsey, the cop killer.”

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