Whatever you do, do not go to Fiona’s Florist. Whatever…
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Whatever you do, do not go to Fiona’s Florist.
Whatever you do, do not go to Fiona's Florist.
I am what would be considered an above average man. I'm no Tom Cruise or Brad Pitt but I am somewhat tall standing at six foot and make sure to keep a good physique and keep up my hygiene.
Because of this I’ve never had much trouble getting dates and talking to women.
I like to take a gentlemanly approach to my dates, usually bringing flowers for whomever is joining me. The flowers I bring are always fresh and the colors vibrant, and I can’t forget to mention just how amazing they always smelled.
I get them from a local florist just down the street from my apartment called Fiona’s Florist, it’s a pretty popular place but not nearly as popular as it should be.
It’s run by a sweet old lady named, you guessed, Fiona. Every time I came she’d always greet me the same way.
“Hey Charlie, who’s the lucky girl this time?”
I knew jack all about flowers despite how often i came in to purchase them, so id always show Fiona pictures of the girl and his talk about her personality.
Every time without fail Fiona managed to pick out her favorite flowers based on that alone. After she greeted me I swiped through a few pictures of Kiara, tonight’s chosen lady, and gave a short description of her.
“Shes a very outdoorsy girl, loves cats, and her favorite band is The Marias.”
I honestly didn't know too much about her but she did seem like a very sweet girl.
Fiona began to walk toward one of the many boutiques for sale and reached down for one.
“I think these Orchids will be just perfect!”
She gave the biggest sweet-old-lady-smile imaginable and set them down near the register.
“Alright dear, that’ll be twelve dollars.”
I opened my wallet and handed her a small wad of cash and grabbed the flower off the counter.
“You know Fiona, I really have no idea how you manage to guess a girl's favorite flowers right every time.”
She looked up from her small journal she used to keep track of inventory.
“Just something I’ve picked up over the years I suppose. Flowers are my speciality after all. Now go on and enjoy your date Charlie!”
“I will Fiona. Thanks again for the flowers!.”
The time came for my date and sure enough – she loved the orchids.
In fact, they are her favorite flower.
I took us to a small steak house just out of town and the date was a massive success.
“So tell me, how did you know orchids were my favorite?” She said cutting her sirloin.
“Let's just say, I know a great florist.” I thought of lying about flowers actually being my specialty, but I didn’t want to risk being quizzed.
She laughed and asked me to take her some time soon.
I said I would.
The date went so well that we planned our second date right then and there.
Next week we’d get some lunch at the cafe near my apartment and then do some shopping, one of the stops being Fiona’s.
The next morning I went to Fiona’s to tell her all about my date. Though today I was not greeted by a warm smile and her usual welcome, today it was empty. Is the store closed? No, the sign said open and the door was unlocked so it can’t be.
I tried to call out for her.
“Fiona? Are you here?”
There was no response.
“t was then I noticed that the large oak door at the end of the store, that is usually closed, is slightly ajar. I slowly stepped toward it and opened the door just a little more.
“Fiona? You here?”
I had expected to see an extra storage room with supplies for the store and various flowers. Instead I was met with a staircase that looked impossibly long.
The building was pretty small, maybe the side of a bedroom, so I didn't think there would be much of a backroom.
Let alone a basement.
The stairs were made of an old brick that has clearly been worn with use.
I called out for Fiona once again.
“Fiona, you down there?”
Again I was met with no response
I figured Fiona and I had spoken enough to where she wouldn’t mind me going down to what I assumed was some sort of weird basement where she kept any back-stock. I slowly crept down the stairs for probably two minutes until I reached a large airtight metal door. I grabbed the handle. The cold metal sent a small shiver down my spine.
As soon as the door opened I was hit with a putrid scent. A fragrance made with a mixture of wet grass along rotting meats and berries. It was extremely difficult to keep the food in my stomach.
I swung the door open fully and saw a room made of the same cold metal — not much bigger than the store. The walls were lined with bodies of what looked like humans. Only some were dark grey while others were a weird shade of green, but all had bright green veins coursing through their body and various flowers blooming from every hole in their body. There were some stranglers scattered around the floor.
It was now impossible to keep the food in my stomach. My body repulsed and bitter chunks shot out of my throat. Leaving a brown and beige puddle in front of my feet and a burning in the back of my throat, but it was hard to tell if that was from my vomit or the fragrance that filled the room.
Did Fiona do this? There's no way, she was just a sweet old lady. So why are there bodies scattered around her store's basement?
“Ughh, Fiona?” I tried to call out but again there was no answer.
The smell had gotten so strong that there were now tears streaming down my cheeks uncontrollably. I lifted my hand to wipe the wet streaks off my face but before my hand could make contact with my face there was a sharp pain in my neck. I swatted at my neck thinking some bug had bitten me. My hand hit a long cold tube. I looked over my shoulder and saw Fiona pushing a syringe in my neck. She used her thumb to push down and injected whatever was in that syringe into my neck.
“Fiona?” I was in complete disbelief.
“Oh Charlie, I did take a liking to you.” Her voice had a hint of sincerity that was being suppressed by malice.
I felt like ice was pulsing through my veins. I tried to reach out to Fiona but could feel my movements getting stiff. I fell face first forward Fiona’s feet. She looked down at me and her lips formed into a disgusting grin.
“Goodbye, Charlie.”
She began to walk back toward the metal door.
“Fuck you Fio-”
Before I could finish speaking a long root sprouted out of my mouth. I grabbed hold and ripped it out of my system causing a gush of cold blood to leak out of me. Fiona looked back one last time before slowly closing the metal door.
Using all my strength I crawled toward the edge of the room and sat up against the wall. That is where I am now. I can see my skin changing shade and little stems and roots growing out of me. I don’t know how much longer I can fight it off. No matter how many roots I yank out of myself they are persistent and unending.
Fiona left a shovel down here. I’m going to try to take it and fight her off if I need to, but with how little strength I have left in me it’s unlikely I’d win.
Whatever you do, do not go to Fiona’s Florist.
But if you do, I might be down here.
#entertainment
source
Whatever you do, do not go to Fiona's Florist.
I am what would be considered an above average man. I'm no Tom Cruise or Brad Pitt but I am somewhat tall standing at six foot and make sure to keep a good physique and keep up my hygiene.
Because of this I’ve never had much trouble getting dates and talking to women.
I like to take a gentlemanly approach to my dates, usually bringing flowers for whomever is joining me. The flowers I bring are always fresh and the colors vibrant, and I can’t forget to mention just how amazing they always smelled.
I get them from a local florist just down the street from my apartment called Fiona’s Florist, it’s a pretty popular place but not nearly as popular as it should be.
It’s run by a sweet old lady named, you guessed, Fiona. Every time I came she’d always greet me the same way.
“Hey Charlie, who’s the lucky girl this time?”
I knew jack all about flowers despite how often i came in to purchase them, so id always show Fiona pictures of the girl and his talk about her personality.
Every time without fail Fiona managed to pick out her favorite flowers based on that alone. After she greeted me I swiped through a few pictures of Kiara, tonight’s chosen lady, and gave a short description of her.
“Shes a very outdoorsy girl, loves cats, and her favorite band is The Marias.”
I honestly didn't know too much about her but she did seem like a very sweet girl.
Fiona began to walk toward one of the many boutiques for sale and reached down for one.
“I think these Orchids will be just perfect!”
She gave the biggest sweet-old-lady-smile imaginable and set them down near the register.
“Alright dear, that’ll be twelve dollars.”
I opened my wallet and handed her a small wad of cash and grabbed the flower off the counter.
“You know Fiona, I really have no idea how you manage to guess a girl's favorite flowers right every time.”
She looked up from her small journal she used to keep track of inventory.
“Just something I’ve picked up over the years I suppose. Flowers are my speciality after all. Now go on and enjoy your date Charlie!”
“I will Fiona. Thanks again for the flowers!.”
The time came for my date and sure enough – she loved the orchids.
In fact, they are her favorite flower.
I took us to a small steak house just out of town and the date was a massive success.
“So tell me, how did you know orchids were my favorite?” She said cutting her sirloin.
“Let's just say, I know a great florist.” I thought of lying about flowers actually being my specialty, but I didn’t want to risk being quizzed.
She laughed and asked me to take her some time soon.
I said I would.
The date went so well that we planned our second date right then and there.
Next week we’d get some lunch at the cafe near my apartment and then do some shopping, one of the stops being Fiona’s.
The next morning I went to Fiona’s to tell her all about my date. Though today I was not greeted by a warm smile and her usual welcome, today it was empty. Is the store closed? No, the sign said open and the door was unlocked so it can’t be.
I tried to call out for her.
“Fiona? Are you here?”
There was no response.
“t was then I noticed that the large oak door at the end of the store, that is usually closed, is slightly ajar. I slowly stepped toward it and opened the door just a little more.
“Fiona? You here?”
I had expected to see an extra storage room with supplies for the store and various flowers. Instead I was met with a staircase that looked impossibly long.
The building was pretty small, maybe the side of a bedroom, so I didn't think there would be much of a backroom.
Let alone a basement.
The stairs were made of an old brick that has clearly been worn with use.
I called out for Fiona once again.
“Fiona, you down there?”
Again I was met with no response
I figured Fiona and I had spoken enough to where she wouldn’t mind me going down to what I assumed was some sort of weird basement where she kept any back-stock. I slowly crept down the stairs for probably two minutes until I reached a large airtight metal door. I grabbed the handle. The cold metal sent a small shiver down my spine.
As soon as the door opened I was hit with a putrid scent. A fragrance made with a mixture of wet grass along rotting meats and berries. It was extremely difficult to keep the food in my stomach.
I swung the door open fully and saw a room made of the same cold metal — not much bigger than the store. The walls were lined with bodies of what looked like humans. Only some were dark grey while others were a weird shade of green, but all had bright green veins coursing through their body and various flowers blooming from every hole in their body. There were some stranglers scattered around the floor.
It was now impossible to keep the food in my stomach. My body repulsed and bitter chunks shot out of my throat. Leaving a brown and beige puddle in front of my feet and a burning in the back of my throat, but it was hard to tell if that was from my vomit or the fragrance that filled the room.
Did Fiona do this? There's no way, she was just a sweet old lady. So why are there bodies scattered around her store's basement?
“Ughh, Fiona?” I tried to call out but again there was no answer.
The smell had gotten so strong that there were now tears streaming down my cheeks uncontrollably. I lifted my hand to wipe the wet streaks off my face but before my hand could make contact with my face there was a sharp pain in my neck. I swatted at my neck thinking some bug had bitten me. My hand hit a long cold tube. I looked over my shoulder and saw Fiona pushing a syringe in my neck. She used her thumb to push down and injected whatever was in that syringe into my neck.
“Fiona?” I was in complete disbelief.
“Oh Charlie, I did take a liking to you.” Her voice had a hint of sincerity that was being suppressed by malice.
I felt like ice was pulsing through my veins. I tried to reach out to Fiona but could feel my movements getting stiff. I fell face first forward Fiona’s feet. She looked down at me and her lips formed into a disgusting grin.
“Goodbye, Charlie.”
She began to walk back toward the metal door.
“Fuck you Fio-”
Before I could finish speaking a long root sprouted out of my mouth. I grabbed hold and ripped it out of my system causing a gush of cold blood to leak out of me. Fiona looked back one last time before slowly closing the metal door.
Using all my strength I crawled toward the edge of the room and sat up against the wall. That is where I am now. I can see my skin changing shade and little stems and roots growing out of me. I don’t know how much longer I can fight it off. No matter how many roots I yank out of myself they are persistent and unending.
Fiona left a shovel down here. I’m going to try to take it and fight her off if I need to, but with how little strength I have left in me it’s unlikely I’d win.
Whatever you do, do not go to Fiona’s Florist.
But if you do, I might be down here.
#entertainment
source
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