They don’t make movies like the blockbuster Paul P. saw in his Grandma’s old Super 8 film anymore. Day 14 of Flash Fiction February. We’re halfway through the month.

WANTED: Looking for a movie projector to look at some old family movies I recently found. I need to see if they’re worth converting to digital. I remember my grandmother liked to do a lot of scenery, but I don't want to waste my time and money on that. I could even just borrow one, maybe. The old screen we have is good; I don’t need the screen, just the projector. Thank You. Paul P.

This is Paul’s ad for the local Give and Take. It’s one of those services where people give each other things they don’t want anymore instead of throwing them into the landfills.

Paul inherited a lot of small things from his grandmother. Some of it is a box of old movies and a broken projector. Paul loves old things too, so he’s thrilled about the box of antique kitchen utensils and also the pile of antique tools his grandad used to have. That’s not what this story is about, though.

A little while later, he gets an email from a man who owns an antique shop.

Responding to your Give and Take ad. I own the antique shop in town. I have some old projectors here. You are welcome to come here and use one of my projectors. I have both Super 8 and the standard reel types. There is space in the back for you, and you can have privacy. If your screen is portable, you should bring it. I don’t have any blank wall space here. I’m open from 10 AM to 4 PM, Monday – Saturday. Come any time.

Ed Jackson, Lost Country Relics

Paul replies:

Oh, that’s great. I know your store. I can come over pretty soon. Let me get my things together and drive over there. Thanks! Paul P.

Paul pulls up to the old storefront in the quaint, well-kept part of the old town, which is one town down the road from where Paul lives.

The obligatory bell attached to the door clangs as Paul swings open the door. He has his screen under one arm and the box of movies under the other. “Hello!” Paul goes into the store, which appears empty at the moment. He walks slowly up to the counter, looking around at all the old stuff.

Ed comes out of a back room; he has a set of magnifying eyeglasses on his forehead. “Hey there, welcome. You must be Paul because you’re the guy with a box of movies and a screen.” Ed says. I have a table set up for you in back; I can leave you alone while you look through those. That looks like Super 8 film. OK, I’ve got a nice little projector that works very well.”

“Cool.” Paul replies. He leans the screen against the counter. “Show me the way.”

Paul takes the box of movies into the back, then goes back and gets the screen, careful to maneuver it around all the nice old things in there.

"Hey, look, you even have an old movie theater popcorn machine. That’s cool.” Paul says.

"Yep,” replies Ed. “It works too.”

“I’ll bet you do pretty good business here; I love old tools,” Paul says.

“My tools get cleaned out as soon as they come in. It’s hard to get a decent tool nowadays without spending an arm and a leg; these old antiques beat pretty much anything you can get at the cheap foreign department stores.” Ed says. “Otherwise, it’s pretty dead; people have even given up on the old stuff in this country.” He says.

“That’s really sad." Paul says.

Ed gathers some refreshments from the kitchenette behind his office and brings them over to Paul. “Here’s a few snacks.” He says. “I’ll be just around the corner at the counter if you need anything.”

“Wow, thanks.” Paul replies.

Ed can hear Paul in the back, enjoying the films; he laughs every once in a while and groans once in a while. About a half-hour goes by, and Paul comes out of the little space in the back.

"Hi,” Paul says. ”Hey, this is pretty awkward, but I need to call the police.” Paul is standing with his hands folded gently, and he’s speaking very softly. “I want to let you know they’ll be coming here to look at one of these films with me.”

“Oh.” Ed says. “I hope it’s nothing too terrible.” It must be pretty bad if you need to call the authorities.”

“I’d say it is.” Paul says. “I just need you to be here when they come so they know I have your permission to be here, what the situation is, and everything.”

"Certainly,” Ed says. “I’ll give you all the space you need. I’m very sorry; you must have really seen something awful in those films, huh?”

“I’d say it’s a little over-the-top.” Paul says.

“I’ll tell you what. You look a little distraught; let me call the guys over here for you.” Ed says.

Paul goes into the back, and he gathers up the plate of refreshments and his glass of lemonade for Ed to mind. “Thanks for this,” he says, as Ed is just finishing up his call with the police.

After a few minutes, Ed goes to the back and peaks in on Paul, who has his face in his hands. A moment later, the police arrive.

“Hey boys,” Ed says. “There’s a guy in back who needs to talk to you; his name’s Paul. He saw something in some old family movies he needs to talk to you about.”

“Sounds weird.” Cop A says.

“What now?” Says Cop B

Cop A goes into the back with Paul and sits down. Cop B watches from the doorway between the counter and the little back room. Paul starts the projector.

A few minutes pass. “Holy crap,” Cop A says.

Cop B reels around to Ed Jackson, charges over, spins him around, and has cuffs on him in seconds. “What the F, Paul!” He screams.

“I never knew my grandad,” Paul says to the three of them. “They told me he died in a farm accident. “I didn’t know he was tortured to death by my grandmother and some freak from down the road!” He screams in Paul’s face.

The End

That was my first ever attempt and surprise horror. I hope it wasn’t too boring or obvious.

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