Dear Mr. McGreely
By Mark Slade
A high school principal's life spirals into chaos as he receives increasingly menacing letters exposing his illicit affair and other dark secrets. As the threats escalate, McGreely's paranoia deepens, culminating in a nightmarish confrontation.
Monday, April 3rd.
Dear Mr. McGreely,
You have been watched. Fail to comply and suffer the consequences!
I know what you and Emma Kostner are up to in your office late at night. I’m sure Mrs. McGreely would not be pleased to know such details. If you do not stop this awful act against God and his children, I will be forced to do something about it. Beware of the black cloak wielding a scythe!
McGreely blinked. He tossed the neatly typed piece of paper on his desk and leaned back.
“No one knows any of this,” he frowned
“What act against God am I committing?”
He swirled his big black leather chair toward the window. The blinds were up and he could see the football field from his office. He watched Ms. Carter lead her gym class in exercises. Jumping jacks. He smiled. He always enjoyed watching Ms. Carter in her tight gym shirt and very short shorts. Long legged and beautiful straw hair in a long ponytail.
“It’s hard being Principal of a high school.”
The blinds came down and Emma stood in front of him, arms folded, scowling.
“How long have you been standing there?”
“Long enough to prevent the head of the school board from seeing what you were up to,” Emma said scornfully. “We’ll discuss this later,” she whispered before adding, “Mrs. Collins is here to see you Mr. McGreely.”
“About what?”
“The Janitor situation.”
“As in….?”
“You have no Janitors to clean the school.”
“Ah. That situation.”
Wednesday, April 11th
Dear Mr. McGreely,
You have been watched. Fail to comply and suffer the consequences.
I have warned you about your affair with that salacious slut! You disgusting man! Filling her with your demonic seed! Such an awful crime against God and his children! If you do not end your sexual encounters with Emma Kostner, I will be forced to stop it myself! Beware of the black cloak wielding a scythe!
Florence was in her study when McGreely came home. She was looking over photos of property her company had offered up for sale to the rich and powerful Rochester family. Rochester’s daughter was remarrying and as a present he wished to gift her another home, her third over five years.
Her eyes rose from the photos when she heard the soft patter of his loafers in the hallway.
“Lester?”
She called out.
He took a moment before answering.
“Yes, Florence?”
“Come in here, please.”
Slowly, McGreely went inside his wife’s study, shoulders slumped, gazing at his feet, guilty of whatever she thought he was guilty of.
“Where have you been?”
“Just working late. That’s all,” he said sluggishly.
“At the school?”
“Yes,” he avoided her glare.
“Hmm.”
“I have, dear,” his voice begging for forgiveness. “I swear.”
“I’m not concerned where you’ve been, exactly,” she paused for dramatic effect. “Or…who you have been with.”
McGreely showed his confusion. “Really?”
“The other matter I wish to discuss with you.”
He stood, and said defiantly. “No, Florence! We will not discuss it!”
McGreely walked out of the room.
Tuesday, April 24th
Dear Mr. McGreely,
You have been watched. Fail to comply and suffer the consequences.
You choose to ignore my warnings of your outlandish behavior with Emma Kostner. So, I am going to have to take drastic measures. Blood will rain down upon you. Heads will roll. The stench of death will fill your senses. I see you. I see everything you do. I hear your thoughts, I hear your voices entangled in long sighs.
you and that dirty slut will meet with a horrible end! I guarantee a blood bath!
Beware of the black cloak wielding a scythe!
Emma stormed into McGreely’s office. He quickly put away the pornographic photos of Emma displayed on a bed of red sheets, her bound and gagged, McGreely standing over her, holding a whip. He shoved the glossy photos into a drawer of his desk next to .38.
Emma leaned against the door. Her face was drained of her natural happiness.
“There are two police officers here to see you,” she said in a careful, controlled voice nuanced with anxiety.
“What do they want?” McGreely asked. He knew what they wanted. Questions to be answered. Questions about school funds. Money he’d already wired to a bank in the Cayman Islands. Money missing from a fundraiser to keep certain books out his school library. Money to purchase books he deemed morally proficient to shape his students minds and souls.
“I don’t know what they want,” Emma said. “They just said they want to speak to you.”
McGreely cleared his throat, opened the desk drawer, and placed a hand on the butt of his .38.
He smiled faintly.
“Well, you better show them in, Miss Kostner.”
She ushered in two men in suits. They smiled, shook McGreely’s hand, and introduced themselves as Detectives with the county police. They sensed McGreely’s nervousness. They exchanged uneasy glances. The smiles vanished. McGreely asked them to sit and they did so, straightening their clothes.
McGreely took hold of his .38, still concealing the gun and his hand by keeping them inside the drawer. He fingered the trigger.
After a while, one of the Detectives finally got the point.
“Someone reported an attempted break in last night at the school.”
Friday, May 3rd
Dear Mr. McGreely,
You have been watched. Fail to comply and suffer the consequences.
You and Emma Kostner still carry on with the abominations and disgusting proclivities that salt the eyes of God!
The time has come. No more warnings. The streets will be stained with the blood of you and your slut! The die has been cast and the snake eyes of death are upon you! Heads will roll!
Beware of the black cloak wielding a scythe!
“Oh! These letters are terrible, Lester!” Emma said. She threw the papers to the floorboard of McGreely’s Volkswagen. She placed her breasts back into her brassiere and started to button her blouse. McGreely pushed her hand away and rolled the palm over each nipple several times. Emma sighed
The windows were steamed up and only a glint of moonlight peered through a small crack in the windshield. They were parked at the playground behind North Fairlane high, just to the right of the football field. A cluster of elm trees concealed the car, therefore no eyes to witness their lovemaking.
“There are more,” McGreely said slowly. “I chose these because they are they frighten me”
“Oh my God,” Emma said. “ Are these letters real, Lester?”
“Of course they are, Emma. I wouldn’t show them to you if I thought they were fake.”
“I know, darling,” Emma said, straightening her skirt and buttoning up her blouse. She was not a bad looking woman by any means. Though her age had caught up with her, she still had a shape that got noticed, especially construction workers who had no choice but to whistle and holler inappropriate come-ons.
She sighed heavily before continuing. “But maybe someone at the school has a sick sense of humor?”
“This is not a prank,” McGreely could feel himself warming up. Sweat formed under his collar and a river ran down thick, fat neck. Anger was causing his voice to rise and become shrill.
“Oh Lester,” she touched his knee. “I didn’t mean to suggest that it was,” she cooed
“I’m sorry,” he chuckled cheerily. “I haven’t had a wink of sleep since this whole debacle started “
“When did you start receiving the letters?”
“Last month. It’s been horrible.”
“You poor dear. Do you have an idea who’s threatening us?”
“Plenty,” McGreely said incredulously.
“You don’t think its Florence, do you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” McGreely said. “Florence is not that kind of person.”
“Of course not,” Emma apologized. “I’m sure she isn’t. But…one wonders…”
“No,” McGreely shook his head. “One does not wonder, Emma. They gather cold hard facts.”
“Yes,” Emma dressed awkwardly. “One does. Oh.” She had a thought.
“Yes?”
“My neighbor,” she said worriedly.
“Mr. Guernsey?”
“Mmm. One morning he was in his yard checking the length of his lawn when you left.”
“When was this?”
“Oh, I believe it was several months ago.”
“When were you going to tell me this, Emma?”
“I’m sorry, Lester,” she slipped into her shoes with much difficulty because of the size of McGreely’s Volkswagen. “I didn’t think of it until now—”
There was a loud bang and the windshield suddenly cracked. Emma screamed when she saw a figure in a black cloak standing in front of the Volkswagen, the scythe raised high in the air, poised to strike again. McGreely squealed, opened his door and ran like a mad man waving his arms, screaming;
“They’re after me! They’re after me!”
The cloaked figure drove the Scythe into the windshield again. Glass shattered. The shards sprinkled the inside of the car and littered Emma’s body. Thankfully she had the sense to turn her head so the shards wouldn’t be embedded in her face and eyes.
The cloaked figure noticed McGreely running away, and decided it would chase him, leaving Emma by herself to confront a magnitude of feelings she was not equipped to handle. In shock, she opened the car door and rolled out onto the cold, damp grass. Weeping, she crawled on her hands and knees, through the empty streets until an officer pulled up beside her to ask if she was alright.
Emma babbled something to the officer in one runoff sentence. In his infinite wisdom, he decided to call an ambulance to take her to the hospital, check her over, but also to keep her for several days in the psych ward.
McGreely made it home on foot. Luckily, it wasn’t far. He discovered Florence was in bed waiting for him.
“Well?” she asked curtly.
“It went very well,” McGreely said.
“Was she frightened?”
McGreely chuckled. “Most assuredly,” he said with malicious glee.
Florence squealed like a teenage girl, rose from the bed, stood and let the black cloak fall to the floor. She stepped away toward McGreely, her naked body crushing his dirty, sweaty clothed body. They embraced, kissing sloppily.
Florence, fumbling for McGreely’s zipper, said, “Tell me every nasty detail,” she said as they fell on the bed.
Too busy in the throes of wild animalistic sex, they didn’t notice the black cloaked figure at their bedside, wielding a Scythe.
