THE EAR PEOPLE

THE EAR PEOPLE


There is a saying that if you believe in something so badly, one day it will in fact come true. HG WELLS

Greg Smith stared almost hypnotically at the TV whilst slowly masticating on a piece of toast.

A grim faced newscaster was just putting the finishing touches to yet another item of calamity and mayhem! 

In this case a deranged father of four who suddenly decided on himself that not only “his” end were nigh, but the rest of his family too.

Apparently this particular person and in a rather bizarre fashion had taken the family for a trip out to a nearby beauty spot.

The problem was, this beauty spot was next to a cliff, of which there were a 500 ft drop to the sea below!!

According to the grim faced news reporter, questions were still being asked as to why this poor family drove toward the cliff edge at high speed, consequently plunging to their deaths 500 ft to the bottom.

Greg waited for the next item of dread, there usually was, I mean “good news” isn’t in fashion anymore is it?

This time it was a deranged postman in Clapham London. 

On one particular morning, Roger Jennings decided letters weren’t going to be the only items he would deliver that day.

Knocking on several doors and on the opening of said doors, Roger produced a semi automatic Heckler & Koch!!

Calmly and methodically, Roger murdered 10 residents of Montague road that morning with a single shot to the head, that is before armed police arrived and shot Roger Jennings in the head too.

The news reporter also said that this was now the seventh case of a similar nature and all in the space of a week.

By this time Greg had finished his toast and as he began to slurp on a low fat Mocha, the news reporter had something else to say..

“Police are mystified as to why nearly all these deaths have one thing in common!
It appears to be believed, even at this early stage that the reason these people had taken life was because of madness!!”

“Well Da,” uttered Greg as he made for the TV remote.

“You know why they killed those people don’t you?”

Greg spun around. “Mum, will you please not sneak up on me like that, you know how nervous I get.”

Mrs Smith [Irene] burst out laughing, “don’t be so bloody soft, no really, wanna know what I think?”

Greg looked at his mum and though Greg loved his mum more than life itself, he did wonder about her sometimes.

In fact Greg sincerely believed that Mum had never gotten over the death of his father and of course her husband Frank and put down her odd behaviour to that fact.

Greg gave his Mum a knowing smile, wiped his mouth, took one last swig of coffee and prepared to set off for work.

Irene Smith thumbed at the now off TV, “well don’t you want “my” expert opinion hunny?”

Greg smiled again and politely said, “Mum, I really don’t have time for this, they were all nuts, that’s what people are when they kill, maim, whatever, they’re stark staring bloody bonkers and that’s the end of it.”

“But why son?”

Greg stopped momentarily as he were about to head out the front door and his car.
Greg turning to look at his Mum asked what she meant by “why.”

Mrs Smith had a very straight face now and walking slowly toward her son and with a crooked finger, gestured for Greg to come to her.

Greg sighed, “Mum I’m really not in the mood for games, got a load of stuff to get through today.”

Irene still beckoned Greg to come to her, Greg finally gave in and walked toward his Mother.

As Greg got close, Irene Smith leaned over and whispered two words into Greg’s left ear .

Greg stepped back and said, “Mum, what are you talking about, that’s just a bloody fairy tale, I stopped believing in fairy tales 20 years ago.”

Mrs Smith didn’t say anything and this was always the bit that worried Greg, when ever he questioned her on anything, or disagreed on a point of view, Irene would just simply clam up and stare into space..

“Mum,” said Greg, now in a lot more gentler tone of voice, “Mum, we’ve been through this, you have to let Dad go, he died that way because he wanted to and there’s nothing “you,” or I can do about that now.”

Again gently, taking a hold of his Mum’s left hand and looking directly into his Mother’s eyes Greg spoke again.

“Mum, you have to stop believing in stuff like this, there’s no proof, its all just a myth, Dad took his own life for whatever reason and you really have to stop beating yourself up over this. Promise me, please, no more mention of those bloody EAR PEOPLE.”

Irene looked lovingly back at her son, “OK, I promise.”

Greg smiled, let go of his Mum’s hand and headed for the door, “only if you promise me something too,” shouted Irene.

Greg froze in his tracks, slowly turning around to face his Mum Greg asked “what?”

Irene smiled this time and again walking toward her son she said.

“All I want you to do is at least take a look, do a bit of research, you’re a Librarian, so it shouldn’t be “too” hard?
Please son and I promise I won’t mention those little guys again.”

Irene and somewhat disturbingly, chuckled when she said those words.

Greg frowned at first, but he loved his Mum and if it helped to just once and for all get rid of the notion there were tiny beings living inside peoples heads then so be it..

At that point Greg went to work and Mrs Irene Smith went to clean the house, feather duster in one hand, vacuum cleaner in the other, singing “whistle while you work” whilst she did so..

*******

Metropolitan Police pathology unit, New Scotland Yard

Sarah Parker gently almost gingerly extracted a long piece of tissue from the open chest cavity using a pair of metal tweezers.

Placing the tissue under a microscope she peered into an eyepiece, glancing back at the large white male who had once been a postman, Sarah couldn’t help wondering what had prompted someone to suddenly take a gun to work and indiscriminately kill in cold blood?

However, Sarah wasn’t a Police psychologist, she was a forensic scientist and her job was to figure out how someone died and not why.

She knew of course knew in this case it had been her colleagues using lethal force that had taken this mans life, but it still fascinated Sarah as to why “he“ killed too. Sarah carefully turned the deceased’s head to one side.

Talking into a small microphone attached to a digital recorder hanging from her neck, Sarah Parker went through the same motions for probably the hundredth time.

“Entry wound to the front cerebrum, cranial exit wound shattering brain pan and causing extensive cranial damage.”

Pausing and again tilting the unfortunate Roger Jennings’s head she spoke again.

“Some damage caused to the right ear of the deceased, undetermined whether caused by ballistics or otherwise at this time, will investigate further.”

Sarah, upon placing on her head eye protectors then picked up a nearby electric bone saw, “OK Mister, trust me, you won’t feel a bloody thing.”

Sarah smiled almost demoniacally as she said those words, even Police forensic scientists had a wicked sense of humour.

The ear came off as easy as a hot knife through butter, Sarah then began to cut into what you and I would know more familiarly as the ear drum, it was at this point Sarah Parker saw something she wasn’t supposed to!!

*******

Greg pressed the alarm activate on the black Nissan Micra, then headed off up the steps and into work.

Clapham Municipal public library, though originally built in the 70s, had just received a two million pound facelift, so everything was all once again brand spanking new not to mention shiny.

Greg entered his office, threw an attaché case onto a nearby chair and pressed a series of buttons on the desk phone ..

Checking for messages, the machine systematically bleeped in between each one and though nearly all of them were work related, the last one wasn’t.

*Beep* “Don’t forget son, a promise is a promise and I brought you up to know better than never to break a promise, have a lovely day darling, oh and don’t forget your five a day, they’re in your bag.” *beep*

Greg stared back at the desk phone in disbelief.

Shaking his head and looking at the case on the chair, Greg decided to get this particular chore over once and for all..

Though he loved his Mum very dearly, Greg was beginning to get tired of these constant references to strange mythical creatures that were somehow able to invade the mind and make it do crazy things.

Greg pressed another button and spoke.

“Oh sorry to bother you Miss Appleby, but could you pop down into reference and dig out what you can on mythological beings and demons, grab what you can.”

Miss Appleby must have asked why, because Greg began to fidget a little, rather uncomfortably it has to be said.

After pressing the button again Greg muttered that he hoped Miss Appleby didn’t think Greg believed in such things himself, perish the thought.

30 minutes later and after cancelling an appointment, Greg now hunkered down into trying to glean as much information as he could and once and for all dispel any such madcap theories as to why fairy stories would be deemed relevant to Mrs Smith.

Greg soon found what he were looking for…

****

[No one knows where the Ear People come from, they just arrived!!

From the beginning of time? Or when madness was probably first prescribed by ancient physicians as a form of mental illness? Who knows?

Various names and titles have been used to describe these dangerous and somewhat demonic beasts throughout the centuries.

“Ear lizards,” “Mind Monsters,” “Devil Mites” are among the many titles given for these horrific creatures..

Attila the Hun was rumoured to have been infected, Nero, Caligula, King George and Hitler were also at one point said to have been controlled by these diabolical creatures.]

Greg smiled at this point whilst shaking his head, do people really believe in this garbage he thought to himself? He carried on with the research.

[Though little is known about these creatures, what we do know is they’re tiny, just about distinguishable to the human eye, though very few humans have seen one and lived to tell the tale.

The ear creatures are drawn by fear, anguish, hate and sadness, powerful human emotions that produce invisible chemicals that in turn draw these beasts toward them.

These creatures usually always enter through the human ear, hence the name Ear People, as now called by most English speaking civilizations.

Once there, they burrow through the ear canal and up inside the human brain, what they do at that point is a mystery, but according to legend, these beings have the ability to alter and manipulate various brainwave patterns.

Not only that, but these fiendish beings also have the ability to alter the human brain’s fluidic content that protects it inside the cranium.

Re-adjusting various chemicals that provoke emotions, feelings, perceptions and so on.

Once ensconced inside its host’s brain, the Ear People can control the mind, usually resulting in death for both the host and his or her victims.

Why these beings do this no one knows, or more to the point no one wants to know, too many people disregard these theories as crackpot, sheer lunacy, the stuff of children’s fables and are usually treated as such..

But time and time again, various unexplained deaths continue to baffle and bemuse the authorities and though the powers that be mock my theory, science has also never been able to disprove it either.

Indeed how long before more needless deaths occur because man is too afraid to think “outside” the box?”]

*****

At that point Greg swiftly glanced at the cover of the book he was reading again.
*NEVER BE AFRAID OF THE UNEXPLAINED*
By Professor David Barclay.

Greg though a little disturbed at what he had just read, smiled again and in a somewhat mocking tone said aloud, “Well Prof, wonder were you got your title, at the institute of the barking mad?”

Greg threw the book to one side and after perusing other volumes decided to call it a day and crack on with the real reason he were there, work.

Later on that day Miss Appleby once again knocked on Greg Smith’s office door, after handing Greg various catalogues on new book releases, Dawn Appleby reached over to pick up the selection of books requested by Greg earlier.

Greg quickly leaned forward to scoop up the pile of books and in his haste, one of them slid off the top and onto the floor.
Dawn Appleby stooped down and after retrieving the fallen book paused a little whilst staring at it.

Greg again, a little fidgety asked as to what so fascinated Dawn with said book?

“Oh nothing really, except that.”
“Greg frowned a little, “except what?” he said.

“Well you “do” know what happened to this guy don’t you?”

At that point Dawn Appleby showed Greg Smith the book he’d been reading earlier, *NEVER BE AFRAID OF THE UNEXPLAINED* By Professor David Barclay.

Greg smiled, though a tad sarcastically, “probably sectioned I shouldn’t wonder, the man’s as mad as a hatter.”

Dawn replied by saying, “well that’s as well may be, but we are talking about an ex Professor Barclay now though.”
Greg stopped smiling, “what do you mean, he’s dead, what happened to him?”

It was Dawn Appleby’s turn to look a little uncomfortable now, staring down at the pile of books she were still holding she explained.

Well it were all over the news so I’m surprised you didn’t see it?”

Greg nodded that he didn’t see anything, which was a bit strange really given the fact Greg was a bit of a news hound.


“Well,” said Dawn, “I know the old boy had some strange ideas and such but.”

“But what,” snapped Greg, he was getting a little impatient now with all this supernatural claptrap, geeez, it was bad enough with his own Mother believing in it.

“Professor Barclay was attending a conference in New York, along with various other academics from universities the world over when something terrible happened.”

“Oh,” said Greg, now wearing a “I’ve got a bad feeling about this” look.

“Err yes, err, well the conference was being held in a skyscraper and a very large one at that.

Well it appeared and according to the only witness left alive, that Professor Barclay apparently suddenly lost the proverbial plot as it where.”

Greg’s face was a picture, but he didn‘t say anything he just kept staring at Dawn whilst she carried on with rest of the story.

“That was because Professor Barclay insisted that all 20 present academics read this book.”

Dawn again picked up Professor Barclay’s book and showed it to Greg.

“He asked them if they believed in his theory?”

They all said they didn’t and that Mr Barclay should maybe seek medical help, well that’s when the semi automatic machine pistol came out.

He shot and murdered 19 out of the 20 in cold blood, shortly after that he informed the reason he was leaving someone alive, was so they could inform the authorities about “The Ear People.”

“What happened to Barclay?” Said an incredulous Greg.

“He calmly opened a window on the 87th floor and dove out, but not before screaming something.”

“What was that?” said Greg, though this time in a hoarse whisper.

Dawn, with a grim expression said that the only witness left alive was told that the Ear People really exist and are here to stay, soon “everyone” will be friends with the Ear People, then he threw himself out of the window..”

An Ashen faced Greg Smith reached out for the book written by the now ex and obviously demented Barclay.

“Is that the only copy we have Miss Appleby?”

“Err yes, I think so Mr Smith, would you like me to check the catalogue?”

“No,” said Greg, “I’ll do it from here, that’ll be all thank you Miss Appleby.”

As soon as Dawn Appleby left his office, Greg Smith got onto computer records for Clapham & district Library and made a formal request to block any further copies of *NEVER BE AFRAID OF THE UNEXPLAINED*.

“Well Mum,” said Greg as he once again picked up the book written by Professor David Barclay now deceased.

“If ever this were proof that believing in lunatic stories about mythological mini demons were enough to send folks over the edge, then this bloody book was it."

Greg made a few more calls, wrote a couple of Memo’s then prepared to head home, though for some reason and on this occasion he wasn’t looking forward to it.

Then a thought came to him, picking up the late Professor Barclay’s book and tucking it under his arm, Greg switched off the lights, locked his office and headed for the car and home.

*******


Sarah Parker reacted instinctively.
Immediately switching off the electric bone saw Sarah leaned a little closer toward Roger Jennings’s right ear.

“What in the Lord God is that,” she murmured.

On picking up a large magnifying glass Sarah again leaned forward toward the ear cavity of the late but not lamented Roger Jennings.

It appeared something was coming out of the ear and just as Sarah positioned the large glass over the ear she screamed!!

“Jesus Christ, what in the fuck.”

Hundreds, if not thousands of tiny creatures were pouring out of the deceased’s ear cavity.

Sarah again instinctively leapt back away from the gurney and swiftly made her way out of the dead room..

Sarah Parker had been a forensic scientist for nearly 15 years and in all that time never seen anything like what she had just witnessed.

She paused a little to try and collect her senses, what she had just seen wasn’t normal, there just wasn’t any rational explanation.

Sarah had heard of various insect infestations from some of her fellow students at University, these particular students were studying entomology, but what Sarah had just seen clearly weren’t insects, or none that she’d ever seen.

Sarah somehow managed to steady herself and though resisting the urge to go for a cigarette, she had to go back into the dead room and finish the job in hand.

Sarah slowly re entered Pathology room A.

Glancing around nervously, she cautiously edged toward the gurney where Roger Jennings lay.

Like a child that has to return back to its room after experiencing a nightmare, Sarah duly inspected “everything.”


The area immediately around the corpse wasn’t crawling with anything, nor where there any signs of infestation anywhere else in the room.

A much closer, thorough inspection verified that fact.

“Oh no,” muttered Sarah, “you’re losing it girl, too many late nights and far too much booze.”

She smiled at that and having a trained scientific mind, merely put what she had just seen down to a brief hallucination, probably brought on by over indulging.

An hour later Sarah was in another section of the huge building encompassing Scotland Yard.

Though the autopsy on the postman from hell hadn’t revealed anything untoward, not withstanding the brief hallucinogenic encounter, Sarah still had gotten the nosey bug.

Not that she would have included in the report what she allegedly saw anyway, her colleges were an unforgiving bunch when it came to poking fun.

But somewhere at the back of Sarah’s intelligent mind, she knew, in that very brief moment when the glass were positioned right over Jennings’s ear something just wasn‘t right.

Well, the “things” she saw where the stuff of nightmares and as open a mind Sarah undoubtedly had, to rationalise what were under the glass seemed utterly incomprehensible.

Sarah, now seated at a computer terminal entered a series of code numbers only available to serving Police officers.

Once into the system, Sarah swiftly accessed the PNC [Police National Computer] It wasn’t long before Sarah found what she was looking for.

All cases associated with unexplained deaths related to the ex postman Jennings, as well as other similar cases pertaining to sudden random acts of so called rage killings.

Whilst wading through these somewhat rather tragic cases, Sarah spotted one near to home, literally.

Sarah Parker lived in Walthamstow and as soon as one of these so called unexplained deaths, supposedly associated with madness popped up, it caught her attention..

This was another bizarre unexplained death, but totally different to all the others in respect of how the subject in question had died.

Francis Gregory Smith apparently had taken his own life, well just another bog standard suicide thought Sarah to herself?

“So why would you be in here with all the other weird stuff Francis?” Murmured Sarah to no one in particular.


Sarah then clicked onto how frank Smith died and it was this bit that made Sarah Parker sit up and pay attention..

Cause of death [Asphyxiation] Poor Frank had it seems been found hanging from the neck by his rather distraught wife Irene Smith and according to relatives and friends had shown no prior signs or symptoms indicating this would be a reason for taking his own life.

Sarah clicked onto the coroners findings and remarks, also witness statements of various people associated with the late Frank Smith.

It was whilst reading the statement given by Mrs Smith that Sarah nearly fell out of her chair!!

Two hours later, Forensics officer Parker was heading home, but not before popping over to 187 Bartholomew avenue in Walthamstow.

Sarah needed to put some serious questions to Mrs Irene Smith, though this was highly untoward and given the fact that Sarah wasn’t even involved in that case. 

Sarah was now beginning to realise that what she’d seen back in the path lab was no hallucination and Irene‘s constant references, even under oath about bizarre creatures known as “the Ear People was quite frankly scaring her to death!!

******


Both Mother and son stared at each other.

Greg, placing back onto the table the late Professor Barclay’s book gently consoled his Mother.

“So you see Mum, the Professor was quite mad and all this bloody business about mythological beings living inside here,” Greg at that point tapped the side of his head with a forefinger.
“Is simply just all in the imagination, so can we finally stop going on about believing in weird stuff like the Ear People, please?”

Greg smiled as he said those last words and gently took hold of his Mother’s left hand and affectionately squeezed it.

Irene Smith didn’t react at first, she were staring into space again, which prompted her son’s usual cause for concern once more followed by the usual reassuring hand squeeze.

Greg leaned forward to tenderly kiss his Mum on the cheek and then said, “promise me, no more mention of these Ear People, OK?”

Irene gently returned the kiss and after a very short pause nodded in the affirmative, then the doorbell rang!

“Greg looked at his Mother and said, “are you expecting anyone?”

Irene smiled again, though this time it was an empty smile and replied that the only people that seemed to come to this house anymore were the police and social services. 

"Everyone else, the neighbours, former friends, thinks I’m mad and all because I said I believed in the,” Greg placed a forefinger to his Mother’s lips.

“We had a promise remember.”

Sarah Parker was just about to ring the doorbell again when the front door suddenly opened.

A tall middle aged blond lady stood silhouetted in the door against the light of the hallway.

“Yes officer, is there anything I can do for you,” said Irene Smith.

Sarah was a little bit spooked, well apart from being off duty and such, wasn’t and didn’t wear a uniform, so how the hell did this woman know she was a cop?

Though a little taken aback Sarah swiftly got into character and introduced herself, it was then Greg appeared in the doorway alongside his Mother.

“We’ve said all we have to say about what happened to my father Ms Parker and if you don’t mind we’d rather all put this in the past and move on.

Its simply not helping that the fact the Police keep turning up on the doorstep and asking questions, I mean what is there left to say?”

It was at that point Sarah and though she didn’t want to say any of this on the Smith’s doorstep spoke these few words.

“The Ear people? I think I may have seen them!!”

Without any hesitation, Mrs Irene Smith grabbed a hold of Sarah Parkers right arm and yanking her inside the house slammed the door shut behind her!

Sarah was a little perturbed at Irene’s reactions, as was her son Greg.

“Mum,” cried Greg, “what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Police assault, kidnapping, false imprisonment were only some of the possible charges flashing through Greg’s head at this point in time..

In fact it appeared poor Irene had finally reached breaking point and was now in the preliminary stages of cracking up.

“Please Mrs Smith, gasped Sarah, you’re hurting me.”

Irene was still fastened onto Sarah’s right arm, almost like a death grip, nails digging in, even through the leather jacket Sarah were wearing.

Greg had momentarily disappeared, but he were back now and trying desperately to convince his Mother to let go of the nice Police lady.

But instead of letting go, Irene squeezed even harder now and rather disturbingly began to laugh, at the same time pulling Sarah Parker closer toward her…

Almost nose to nose now with each other, a shaking Irene Smith stared right into Sarah’s eyes and asked her a question.

“Constable Parker, do you believe in the Ear People, yes or no?”

Sarah now realised this woman wasn’t only unhinged, but possibly psychotic, which meant dangerous, which meant Sarah, even if she wasn‘t totally sure what she had seen, must play the game and calm Irene Smith down.

“Yes Mrs Smith, I think I do.”

“Finally.”

Shouted Irene Smith, turning to her son Greg, Irene carried on with her speech.

"See son, I told you the Ear People exist, didn’t I, I told you, I kept telling you and you didn’t believe me, no one believed me, but now, right here in front of us is the real proof, a Police woman has actually really really seen them.."

Irene turned to stare at Sarah once more, she’d released Sarah’s arm now and calming just a little, apologised and then began weeping freely.

“You have to tell people,” cried Irene, you have to tell the world about these horrible things, suddenly Irene began laughing again which only confirmed to Sarah that Mrs Irene Smith had reached the brink of madness and would, after tonight have to be possibly sectioned into a mental institution.

Abruptly and unexpectedly it were Greg that spoke.

“I warned you Mother, I warned you to stop fucking banging on about those fucking Ear People, but no, you just wouldn’t shut the fuck up would you?”


Sarah Parker in all her years of methodical Police training just wasn’t prepared for what was about to happen next and died wishing she had paid more attention to that time honoured Police text book mantra, “always” expect the unexpected.”

A thirteen inch Butcher knife suddenly materialised from behind Greg Smith’s back and in a lightening quick slashing move embedded itself deep into the neck of one Sarah Parker.

Sarah died almost instantly there and then, the jugular having been severed meant that Sarah’s life blood was now leaving her body at the same velocity of a high powered burst water main.

Greg had already removed the deadly weapon before a lifeless Sarah slumped to the hall floor.

Irene Smith stayed rooted to the spot, terrified but never once taking her eyes off her son ominously standing in front of her.

Greg’s eyes were shining now and he appeared to be moving his head around in a somewhat bizarre manner, like he was listening to someone.

But of course the only people there in the hallway were Greg’s Mother and the now stabbed to death female Police officer lying in a bloody heap on the floor.

It was Irene who spoke first, however, it wasn’t frantic, it wasn’t hysterical as before, this Time, Irene knowing what was coming, spoke in a measured and calm voice, possibly for the first time since her husband’s impromptu death.

“So it was “you” all along, making it look like it were I that was insane, but all the time it was my dear old Greg.”

Greg slowly moved toward his Mother, eyes full of murderous intent, Butcher knife twirling menacingly around in his right hand, pausing it was now Greg’s turn to speak.

“Poor little Mummykins never had a clue, yet it was right there, in Barclay’s book.
Only male members of the Human race have, or can ever host the Ear people.” 

Greg reached out to gently caress his Mother's tear stained face, on scooping up a finger of the salty liquid, Greg slowly placed the same finger into his mouth and sucked it.

He spoke again.. “You were right all along of course, Daddy did kill himself, but not because “he” wanted to, but because “we” wanted him to.”

At that point and laughing like a complete maniac Greg pointed both forefingers toward both left and right ears on his head.

It was then that Greg once again cocked his head up and down, left to right, as though some invisible radio signal was transmitting a message into his brain…

Message complete, Greg smiled and upon lifting high the thirteen inch Butcher Knife, plunged it right through his mother’s heart!!




THE END