errorYou must be logged in to review this story.
Laird Oliver Hammond
folder
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
12,982
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
1
Views:
12,982
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Laird Oliver Hammond
Mrs. Springsley frowned through her window curtains at the shop across the street. Painted in a bright melody of greens and blues to look like wavy water and fish, the small building was a colorful eyesore to the various other whitewashed stores and homes surrounding it. An innocent turquoise door sat to the right of two tiny round windows and a weathered wooden post in the patch of grass out front announced it to be the L.O. Hammond Pet Shop in sparkling blue.
The people of Puckuts Valley often frowned upon strange things, much like Mrs. Springsley (and Mrs. Hoshwath two doors down) was, but this pet shop was by far the strangest occurrence to be witnessed as far as anyone could remember. A complete mystery that mystified everyone who dared dwell on it for more than a moment.
You see, at 3:14am that morning, before the Springsley family was awake enough to frown, there was no strange little pet shop squeezed between crazy, old Mr. Tam’s house and the post office. No, if anyone in springs Valley had been asked, they would surely tell you there had only been a short stretch of unmowed weeds in that spot. And yet, at precisely 3:15am, when Mr. Garf looked up from scooping after his pet pug, the L.O. Hammond Pet Shop was there without so much as waking the neighbors. The weeds were even swept away, replaced by perfectly trimmed lawn grass.
Of course, calls were made once the sun had risen... Children tried peeking inside the small windows, only to discover the glass warped the inside of the store and Mr. Tams had no answers for his baffled neighbors. He simply smiled and sat his withered body in the rocking chair on his porch, unconcerned by the oddity that had occurred just a few feet to the left. As far as outside sources were concerned? The L.O. Hammond Pet Shop had always been there. Always.
No owner appeared when people knocked throughout that first day and the wooden plaque on the door remained firmly set on ‘CLOSED’ in the same shining paint as the store sign.
Slowly, eyes still narrowed and mouth still puckered with distrust, Mrs. Springsley closed her curtains.
Ten years later, the shop was still closed. No one had ever noticed any movement from inside, the door never opened, and the seemingly abandoned shop looked exactly the same as it had when it first appeared. There were a few children- and even some young teens now- who whispered rumors, but these were easily brushed off as just that. Rumors.
Only Mr. Tams claimed to have entered the shop. Older and frailer then ever, it was a miracle that he could hobble his way out to his porch anymore, but every day he was there, rocking back and forth and smiling quietly at nothing in particular. Neighbors visited him regularly, advising him to get an at-home nurse and dropping off wrapped lunches and dinners, but he always remained firm on the fact that he was fine, just fine. Hammond would be coming to bring him over for coffee and Parry would make sure he got to bed alright.
Parry? There was no one by that name in town. Mr. Tams had gone senile long ago; it was only too obvious that he had started to muddle and half-fantasize his company. He needed at-home care, or someone would just have to take things out of his feeble hands and drive him to the nearest elderly home... but no one in Puckuts Valley had the heart to go through with that last threat.
In the end, and now the beginning of this story, Reid Garf was sent with a book-bag full of clothes and a tin of meatloaf and mashed potatoes to start his amateur care for the poor old, crazy man who lived next door to the L.O. Hammond Pet Shop.
____________________________________
Authors Notes: And so the prologue ends. I’m fairly pleased with how it came out, but it hasn’t been checked over, so don’t have a seizure if you found some mistakes. My prologues are always either better or worse than the actual story; you’ll just have to decide which once I get the first chapter up after this.
Also, I know, stories about strange pet shops aren’t especially original, but I’m just writing this to have fun and my RP character Laird Oliver Hammond wanted so badly to be in a story that I felt inspired to start one. Right now. Just for him to play in and me to do bloody things to the people who live in a town that almost spells “stuckup” backwards.
The people of Puckuts Valley often frowned upon strange things, much like Mrs. Springsley (and Mrs. Hoshwath two doors down) was, but this pet shop was by far the strangest occurrence to be witnessed as far as anyone could remember. A complete mystery that mystified everyone who dared dwell on it for more than a moment.
You see, at 3:14am that morning, before the Springsley family was awake enough to frown, there was no strange little pet shop squeezed between crazy, old Mr. Tam’s house and the post office. No, if anyone in springs Valley had been asked, they would surely tell you there had only been a short stretch of unmowed weeds in that spot. And yet, at precisely 3:15am, when Mr. Garf looked up from scooping after his pet pug, the L.O. Hammond Pet Shop was there without so much as waking the neighbors. The weeds were even swept away, replaced by perfectly trimmed lawn grass.
Of course, calls were made once the sun had risen... Children tried peeking inside the small windows, only to discover the glass warped the inside of the store and Mr. Tams had no answers for his baffled neighbors. He simply smiled and sat his withered body in the rocking chair on his porch, unconcerned by the oddity that had occurred just a few feet to the left. As far as outside sources were concerned? The L.O. Hammond Pet Shop had always been there. Always.
No owner appeared when people knocked throughout that first day and the wooden plaque on the door remained firmly set on ‘CLOSED’ in the same shining paint as the store sign.
Slowly, eyes still narrowed and mouth still puckered with distrust, Mrs. Springsley closed her curtains.
Ten years later, the shop was still closed. No one had ever noticed any movement from inside, the door never opened, and the seemingly abandoned shop looked exactly the same as it had when it first appeared. There were a few children- and even some young teens now- who whispered rumors, but these were easily brushed off as just that. Rumors.
Only Mr. Tams claimed to have entered the shop. Older and frailer then ever, it was a miracle that he could hobble his way out to his porch anymore, but every day he was there, rocking back and forth and smiling quietly at nothing in particular. Neighbors visited him regularly, advising him to get an at-home nurse and dropping off wrapped lunches and dinners, but he always remained firm on the fact that he was fine, just fine. Hammond would be coming to bring him over for coffee and Parry would make sure he got to bed alright.
Parry? There was no one by that name in town. Mr. Tams had gone senile long ago; it was only too obvious that he had started to muddle and half-fantasize his company. He needed at-home care, or someone would just have to take things out of his feeble hands and drive him to the nearest elderly home... but no one in Puckuts Valley had the heart to go through with that last threat.
In the end, and now the beginning of this story, Reid Garf was sent with a book-bag full of clothes and a tin of meatloaf and mashed potatoes to start his amateur care for the poor old, crazy man who lived next door to the L.O. Hammond Pet Shop.
____________________________________
Authors Notes: And so the prologue ends. I’m fairly pleased with how it came out, but it hasn’t been checked over, so don’t have a seizure if you found some mistakes. My prologues are always either better or worse than the actual story; you’ll just have to decide which once I get the first chapter up after this.
Also, I know, stories about strange pet shops aren’t especially original, but I’m just writing this to have fun and my RP character Laird Oliver Hammond wanted so badly to be in a story that I felt inspired to start one. Right now. Just for him to play in and me to do bloody things to the people who live in a town that almost spells “stuckup” backwards.