The Bloodstone

Short Story. 4394 words. Approximately 5 and a quarter A4 pages of reading

Despite the fact that there was already an old man on the bench, Steven sat down and looked out over the park’s pond. The old man was extremely thin and shook inside a new coat that was a few sizes too large for him. “Must be an alcoholic,” Steven thought judgmentally, though he couldn’t smell any drink on the man. No, with those dilated pupils, he was probably into drugs. Steven sighed.

The old man looked at Steven, considering, then spoke to him in a quavering voice. “That was a mighty sigh from someone like you.”

“What do you mean, someone like me?” Steven eyed the man askance. He wasn’t going to try and cadge some coins off him for a beer now, was he?

“Young, good-looking, well dressed. You have it all going for you, it seems?”

“I wish!” retorted Steven, a little more vehemently than was necessary.

The man smiled. People should be careful when they made wishes. “What exactly do you wish for then?” he asked.

Steven looked at the weirdly scruffy man, and not quite sure why he decided to give an answer, he gave a soft sigh and said, “Money! It always boils down to money, doesn’t it? Well, short of a miracle, that isn’t going to happen for me, now, is it?” Steven gave a curt laugh, and ran a hand through his thick brown hair, tousling it a little. What was the matter with him? He wasn’t going to pour out his woes to a wasted old man on a park bench one sorry lunchtime, was he? He snorted at himself in derision.

The old man nodded sagely. “I used to feel the same way,” he said. “But money doesn’t fix everything, you know.”

“I wouldn’t mind testing that theory for myself,” Steven laughed. He considered walking away, but the old man was just being chatty, and not doing any real harm, so he stayed in his seat but went quiet for a while. After a few minutes, the old man gritted his teeth and put his hand into his pocket. He drew something out, clenched tightly in his left fist. Steven shifted a little and peeked out of the corner of his eye. The man wasn’t going to stab him now for a few pennies, was he?

“This stone here is a lucky stone, some would say,” the old man opened his fist with what seemed like an extreme effort. “It is a… well, it brings wealth.” He snapped his skeletal hand shut over the stone, but not before Steven saw the mottled green oval, with the few red blotches in it. Just a bloodstone, nothing special about that!

“It brings wealth, does it?” Steven snorted. “And you are sure that is not just superstitious claptrap? No offence!” Steven smiled to take the edge off his words but shook his head at how gullible people were, clutching at any talisman to help them. He half thought that maybe he did need one of those, not that he believed in them.

“It really does, you know,” whispered the old man, leaning in a little closer to Steven, who shifted away a little more. “The thing is, it is easy to prove, though these days people just shrug it off as sleight of hand. I can show you. If you like, that is? It is rather neat!”

“You can show me, here and now, how that stone can give me money? Indeed? Sure. Go on then! Knock yourself out!” Steven gave a short chuckle and shook his head, but couldn’t help himself from watching the man, to see what trick he was going to perform and if he could work out how it was done.

The man sighed heavily. It would be so much harder to give the stone away, once he had used it again, but he had to persuade this youngster to take the cursed stone from him, and this might be the only way.

“Here, watch carefully. I will do it once; then you do it to make sure I have not tricked you.” The old man scratched around in his pocket and drew out a five-penny piece. Nice and small! He should be able to deal with a small coin like that. “I put the coin with the stone in my hand here, see? Then, don’t be alarmed now, I cut my hand and put some blood on the stone. No, no, wait, it is amazing!” The old man drew out a tiny pocketknife, fumbling a little as he held it with the same hand as the stone and coin. He cut his palm, wincing as an old wound was reopened. A tiny amount of blood welled up, his body struggling to give up the few drops. The man did not place the stone into the bleeding palm. He transferred the blood onto the clean palm, where the stone and the coin were. He shook his hand once or twice to make sure the stone touched the blood, and a small red glow lit the inside of his clenched fist for a moment, making his hand light up eerily. There was a small whoosh of sound, and the man whimpered. He opened his hand, and the blood was gone, and the coin… the coin had turned to a coin of pure gold.

Steven just stared. He blinked a few times, as he re-ran the man’s actions through his mind. He did not see how the trick was done. “May I?” Steven asked, leaning over to take the man’s hand. The blood was not there, and the coin was definitely golden! Steven picked up the coin, and the stranger jerked as if he was going to stop Steven, but with an effort of will the man reluctantly allowed Steven to take the coin. Examining the coin, Steven saw that the markings on it had changed. As he stared at the markings, they seemed to move and draw at him, and Steven felt a lust for gold that he had only ever heard of in fairy stories before. His eyes glinted, their brown depths darkening with desire. “And, you say this is not a trick and that I can do this myself?”

“Oh yes! Only, do not hold the stone in the hand where the wound is open. It would suck the blood right out of you and kill you!”

Steven snorted again, and he made to hand the coin back to the demented old fool, but then snatched it back and looked at the old man again. He hesitated, then said, “Let me try?” There was one way to know for sure if this was a trick or not!

The old man nodded vigorously, handed over the stone quickly, far too quickly, and watched Steven closely, hoping he would take the stone for good. Steven held out his hand, and the man cut a small cut in Steven’s palm and then passed over a penny for Steven to use since Steven hadn’t thought to find a coin first. Smearing his blood onto the stone, Steven felt the stone grow warm. He placed the stone and coin together, with the blood touching both, and then closed his hand.

The stone grew hotter, but it did not burn Steven’s hand. For a brief moment, Steven felt as if the stone had a heartbeat and his hand glowed bright red. Steven opened his hand in shock, almost dropping the coin and stone. There, the coin was gold! What?

“Okay, old man! How did you do it? That is a clever trick, for sure!” Steven leaned over to hand the stone back to the old man and was shocked at the wildness that came into the man’s eyes as he scrambled away from it.

“Ah, no trick, no trick! Take the stone. Try it when you are on your own.” The man stood up hurriedly. “For god’s sake, don’t take my word for it! Take the stone and try it yourself!” With a speed that Steven could only consider as indecent, the old man scurried away, leaving a bemused Steven with the stone and the two gold coins.

“Probably fake!” muttered Steven, shoving the coins and the stone into his pocket.

Later that day, sitting at his computer desk, Steven took the stone and the two coins out of his pocket. He studied them carefully. The stone was a smooth oval of bloodstone, as he had originally thought. The coins certainly looked gold. His eyes were drawn again to the markings on them, and everything around him faded from his mind and he became engrossed in the coins. Snapping himself out of his trance he laughed at himself. “Well, let’s test you out then,” he said to the stone. He got up and went to the kitchen. There was his dinner meat out to defrost. A little blood had pooled in the bottom of the bag where the meat had defrosted. Steven took out a small dessert bowl and placed the stone into it. He rummaged in the jar of pennies on the windowsill and took out three pennies, which also went into the bowl. Then he poked a hole into the meat bag, and let the blood pour out onto the stone. He watched, and… nothing! “Hah!” he shouted to the stone. “Of course, you were fake!” Laughing at himself for believing in the ridiculous, Steven drained the blood and rinsed the stone and coins and the bowl, but then paused for a moment., He realized that it was human blood that he had used before.

Knowing he was a sucker and an idiot, Steven hesitated, but he couldn’t help but want to try, just to be sure. Berating himself mentally for being a gullible fool, Steven put the stone and the coins into the bowl again. Using a paring knife and wincing from the pain, he reopened the small cut in his palm. Blood ran freely and Steven let it drip onto the little green and red stone until his body stopped the flow naturally. Keeping his eyes on the stone, Steven felt his face being drawn closer and closer. The room grew darker and darker until it felt like the light had been sucked out of it and then the stone flashed red. It was so bright that Steven jumped back in shock. Looking back into the bowl, the bowl was immaculately clean, and two of the three coins had transmuted.

“No way!” Steven’s exclamation was muted, and his eyes were wide with shock. He wasn’t sure if the sound of a heartbeat that he had heard was from the stone, or from his own fiercely beating heart.

Steven took the coins and stone from the bowl, placed the normal coin in his top left breast pocket and examined the transmuted coins. They sang the same siren song to him as the first two had, mesmerizing him with their markings which seemed to move and swirl around. Shaking his head, Steven raced back to his computer room, snatched up the original two coins and placed all five into his pocket. He switched on his laptop and began a Google search which took him well into the small hours of the night.

Nothing! Steven found nothing online that looked like his coin! He sat back and rubbed his burning eyes. He was going to have to ask someone! Steven placed one of the coins on his desk and then took a photo with his phone. He turned it over and took another photo. He uploaded the pictures to his computer and then began another search until he found what he was looking for. A small shop, that dealt in rare and exotic antiques, and which also dealt in coins. Steven created a Google e-mail address under a fake name and address, then e-mailed the pictures to the owner of Ashby’s Extraordinary. He then sat back, fondling the coins, rolling them over and over between his fingers until the sun began to rise. Realising that he had not had any sleep, Steven called in sick to work, but couldn’t go to bed. He was too engrossed with his new coins.

That morning, Steven’s laptop beeped, to indicate incoming mail. He opened the e-mail, seeing it was a reply from Lisa Shire, proprietor of Ashby’s Extraordinary. Steven read the e-mail quickly and sat back to consider. Lisa had suggested Steven bring the coin in for her to look at, and that, from what she could make out in the photograph, Steven’s coin was rare and of high value. She gave directions to her shop and invited Steven to call in at any time.

Steven felt torn. He wanted to have the coins valued, but he didn’t want anyone to show too much interest in them. If he went to a museum, there would be a lot of questions asked, but this small shop should be safe enough. He did need to sell the coins, if they were valuable, as his finances were in a sorry state, so he did need to value them first. The thing was, he felt so personally attached to the coins, that he did not want to part with them. Chastising himself for being silly, Steven went and showered, shaved, and changed into fresh clothes. He put four coins and the stone into his breast pocket and the fifth, the smaller original coin transmuted from the old man’s five-penny piece, into his trouser pocket.

It did not take long to reach Lisa’s shop. When Steven walked in, he saw only one person there, a small woman with long red hair. How did she support all that hair up on that skinny little neck, he wondered, looking at the mass of it piled roughly into a hairgrip on her head, with most of it tumbling out of control in a riot of curls down her back. Never mind that! He had business to attend to!

“Are you Lisa? Lisa Shire?” he asked, looking around the overstocked shop. Did the woman ever sell any of her stuff? The place was stocked to the rooftop with bric-a-brac and furniture.

“I am, and you are…?”

“Steven. Steven Bloggs. I e-mailed you about…”

“…the coin! Of course! Welcome Steven and thank you for coming in. Let’s go through here. Let me close up the shop for a few moments. Only me here, not enough hands on deck as it were!” Lisa smiled brightly at Steven and locked the front door of the shop. “You never can take a chance! Stop in the back room for five minutes and the front will be cleared out by opportunists! Here, come through.”  Lisa beckoned Steven through to the rear of the shop, waving a hand to him to direct him.

The back room was a small room, with a plain table in the center. There were a couple of chairs dotted around it. The table had a flat steel tray on top, covered with what looked like green felt. Lisa motioned to the table. “Sit there, anywhere will do, and let’s have your coin out to look at. She reached into a drawer under the tabletop and pulled out two pairs of white gloves, throwing one pair over to Steven. “Here you go.”

Lisa sat down and looked at Steven expectantly. Steven took a moment or two before sitting himself. He was cautious, feeling a strange personal link to his coin and nervous to share even the sight of it with someone else. Well, he wouldn’t be able to sell his coin without overcoming this feeling, or having it valued! He pulled on his pair of gloves and then pulled the small single coin from his trouser pocket. The coin felt warm to him, even through the protective layer of the gloves. Steven placed the coin onto the tray, but he felt too ill at ease to sit. He stood fairly close to Lisa, who shot him and look of amusement as she reached for the coin. Seeing Lisa reach for the coin, Steven gave an involuntary twitch. Lisa fixed him with a quelling look and Steven muttered some unintelligible mumblings of embarrassment.

Lisa turned her gaze back to the table and lifted the coin. She examined it closely, flipping it over and over. She noticed the script on the coin and peered more closely. The script moved as she stared at it. Lisa gasped and slammed the coin down onto the table, covering it with her hand, so that she couldn't see it. She averted her eyes, to be sure that she wouldn’t be drawn into looking at it again.

“This coin is very unusual, Steven. I have only heard of these coins in legend. Coins like this are meant to be linked with something paranormal, and they are considered to be extremely dangerous. I did not know that one of them actually existed in real life. I am sure the legends are a little tainted with fancy, but there is no question that this coin is rare and valuable.” Lisa paused and looked up at Steven who was still a little close to her.

“If I may ask, where did you find this coin? And...uh… is this the only one?”

Steven caught his breath. His heart began to pound in his chest. He could no longer see his coin! Why was Lisa hiding it from him? Was she going to switch it by sleight of hand? Steven barely heard what Lisa was telling him. His breathing began to grow shallow and raspy as he felt panic rise inside of him. Suddenly his brain digested what Lisa was saying. She was asking if he had more coins! She wanted his coins! She was going to try and take them from him! Steven's panic tore out of him, and he gasped, “No!”

Lunging at Lisa, Steven had his hands around her throat in a trice. She would not steal his coins! Oh no! The little bitch! Trying to lull him into a false sense of security and then take his treasure from him! He squeezed and squeezed until Lisa stopped breathing and her eyes rolled back in her head. Lisa barely had time to squirm before she blacked out. Steven dropped the limp woman and scrabbled for his coin. He shoved it back into his pocket. “Thieving bitch!” he spat out at Lisa and made to leave the back room when the darkest of ideas came to him. He smiled at the daring of it!

Steven went into the shop front, and searched until he found an antique pitcher and bowl chamber set. He shoved the pitcher aside roughly and picked up the bowl. He searched further until he found a sharp dagger, also amongst the curiosities of the shop. Next, Steven went to the till. He shook it and pounded it until it opened. Gathering up all the coins within, Steven threw them into his bowl. He used the dagger to prise open coin drawers and valuable old coins were thrown in with the common modern ones already there. Steven looked for more coins, throwing things out from under the counter until he found another stash of coins. When he was sure that there were no more coins in the shop, Steven returned to the back room.

Breathing heavily, through his heightened fear and emotions, Steven glanced at Lisa. He almost discarded his plan then and there, as he looked at her strangled expression, but the stone in his pocket pulsed, goading him on. Steven placed his bowl on the floor, and he took out the bloodstone. He placed it into the bowl and then reached over to Lisa's body. He grabbed a handful of her long hair and yanked Lisa around so that her neck was over the bowl. It wasn't as easy to slice through Lisa's throat as Steven had anticipated. The dagger was sharp only at the point, so he had to stab, lever and yank through bits of flesh in order to get her blood flowing swiftly enough. Steven kept himself as far back as he could, to prevent blood from spraying onto his clothing, but he still managed to get his cuffs and lower sleeves drenched. While Lisa's blood was pouring into the bowl of coins, Steven stared at his stone intently, waiting.

There it was! The whump of compressed air and the flash of red light. The flash was bright enough to light the entire room and Steven yelped as his eyes stung with the intensity of it. It took a good ten minutes for the afterimage of the stone to clear from his eyes, so Steven didn’t get to see first-hand how Lisa’s body convulsed in spasms as the stone sucked her dry. When Steven’s vision cleared, there it was! Treasure! The bowl was full of gold coins. The blood in the bowl was gone, and even the blood on his sleeves had been sucked dry. There was not a drop to be seen! Steven grinned maniacally! No blood!

Steven dashed into the front room and rummaged around for a tote bag. He returned to the back room and piled his coins into the bag. He put his stone back into his top left pocket, enjoying the feel of its heartbeat next to his own. Steven laughed, a creepy high-pitched giggle bursting out of him! His hair stuck out wildly. and his pupils were dilated. Scurrying out of a back door, Steven made his way home with his haul.

Three days later, the police who were investigating Lisa's disappearance found her body. They found no other clues as to what happened to her until they processed her computer. There were no obvious clues, but there had been a very recent e-mail from a Steven Bloggs who was meant to have had an appointment with Lisa on the day she was murdered. They flagged to follow-up as it was one of her most recent interactions. Of course, it was added to the list of things to be eliminated as relevant. It was likely to be another dead end, but they began to trace the e-mail just to be sure. The long arm of the law was relentless but slow and methodical. In the time it took them to trace the IP address and work out who Steven Bloggs really was, his second victim had fallen.

The police knocked at Steven’s door, and for a moment he worried about the body in his bathtub, but he could be calm, he knew he could. They would say what they wanted to and then leave. Steven opened the door and after a moment’s hesitation, he invited the two officers in. He made them some tea and then prepared to answer their enquiries.

“We are investigating a Ms Lisa Shire.”

“Who?” Steven looked mildly puzzled.

“Ms Lisa Shire, of Ashby Extraordinary…”

“Ah, oh yes, I know who you mean. Or should I say I know of her. I sent her a couple of pictures of my little coin to see if she could value it. She didn’t give me a valuation based on my photos. Instead, she asked me to come to her shop with it instead. Dodgy if you ask me! I felt uncomfortable that I had to take it to her. I just got that feeling you know, when she was just too interested and asked me to come in and wouldn’t even make a guess at the coin’s value. I took the coin to a museum instead, where it is being valued. You said you are investigating her? I knew it! Is she into antique fraud or theft or something like that?”

“We are not at liberty to say, sir. So, you never went to see her at all?”

“No, I never met her. I went to a more reputable place for my valuation, which they are doing for me at present.”

“Why did you use a fake name and address on your e-mail, sir, if we may ask?”

“Are you serious? In this day and age with internet scams so rampant? I wouldn’t want to say I had a potentially valuable coin and then give my real name and address! That would be just stupid. I would be asking for trouble! See how even emailing her has brought the police to my door. I knew it!  She really is into something shady then!”

The police officers brushed off Steven’s question, asked a few more vague ones of their own, and then left. Promising to be on hand for further questioning if required, Steven saw the police to the door. Outside, when the door was closed, one of them said, “He seems legitimate, but I don’t know… I just get a feeling. Maybe we should dig into his background a little further.’ His partner said, “Let’s see what else turns up first though. This is a tenuous lead at best.” They walked back to their car and left Steven, but one of the officers pushed aside an uneasy gut feeling about Steven.  

Steven heard the comment through the door. In his pocket, his bloodstone pulsed, its heartbeat matching his own. Steven's mind turned over a few basics. They would be back, he just knew it, so he had to leave. That body had to be left anyway. He planned forward, brain racing. He would have to change his car frequently, he would have to move from town to town often, and, he would have to take money from his future sacrifices in order to buy clothes, cars and food because he was not going to part with any of his coins. No, not a single one of them! No, not ever! No, no, no! He packed his coins into some travel bags, and barely remembered to pack a few clothes and a bit of food. He would have to change this car very soon, but he would use it to get a little distance from the house first. He might change it when he found a new sacrifice, and after he collected some more coins…

As Steven drove away down the road, he threw back his head and laughed. He was rich now! Rich, rich, rich! He had been right! Money did change everything!

Thanks, old man!

© CATHERINE KNEE 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED