Nightmare Fuel: The Ultimate Collection of Short Horror Tales Page 10

  “That is the name she gave the supposed attacker. But when someone entered the bedroom, she assumed it was the axe man, grabbed a razor and slit his throat. But in the haze of aggression she hadn't noticed it was in fact the man of the house. She confessed to that crime, an accidental murder due to incorrect identification. But here is where it gets odd,” the detective scratched his frowned forehead.

  Then lowered his head and moved closer to the couple. Both Butterfield's turned to each other, then back to the detective, anxious.

  “Forensics has proven that Neve hacked away at the man of the house, then dropped the razor, only to pick it back up and slit the wife's throat when she entered shortly after the attack. But from what Neve had told us, it was the axeman that killed the wife, not her. But her prints were on the razor as well as on the female victim. So it was most certainly her, but Neve's mind was playing tricks and making her take on the persona of this madman.”

  Both of their mouths were hanging open in utter disbelief. Their once innocent babysitter now an insane psycho killer.

  “Another strange thing was that we found Neve's phone on Neve. Well maybe that's not so strange, but we found yours also Mrs Butterfield.”

  Mrs Butterfield looked shocked, again turning to her husband who shared the startling news.

  “There were texts back and forth from Neve's phone to, and from, yours. But as only Neve's prints were on the two phones, we assumed she was unknowingly taking on the identity of the other person texting Neve's actual phone.”

  “Who was she pretending to be texting from my phone?” Mrs Butterfield asked.

  “You. She had no idea at the time, and still doesn't due to the psychological condition she has developed. But essentially she was pretending to be you, texting her phone, then being herself responding to your texts.”

  Mrs Butterfield looked completely perplexed, forehead creasing and eyes looking at the dark wooden table they were seated at.

  “At this time we are not sure if she will end up in a mental facility or a women's prison due to the state of her mentality,” the detective informed.

  “I can't believe this,” Mr Butterfield muttered, ruffling through his brunette hair.

  “You are both free to go now and we will be sending officers round tomorrow morning to survey the damage and arrange repairs for you.”

  “Thank you Detective,” they both responded, somewhat zombie-like.

  ***

  “Why are you so upset? We did it, she is either going to prison or a mental home.” Mr Butterfield responded to his wife's annoyance.

  “That isn't good enough; her stupidity lost us our children! She should pay more!” She yelled, pulling fists and gritting teeth. Tears of anger raced down her cheeks. “And are you so sure we covered our tracks enough? What if they find our DNA?”

  “Would you calm down already?! Look, your fingerprints were removed from your phone and we put Neve's on them when we placed it on her. I removed my prints from the bedroom when I slit the woman's throat and especially off the razor that Neve had dropped after killing the guy. And I finally found a use for the decapitated head when video chatting Neve.” Mr Butterfield laughed, smug.

  “Won't they track the other laptop that the video chat came from?” Mrs Butterfield again, stressed.

  “NO! I hacked into her boyfriend's social account and altered the receiving imprints, I am a programmer, I think I know how to do this stuff. They will just think the video chat was all in her head, or that the boyfriend was having a joke with her. Everything was in his name, including the location, so he will be questioned maybe, but the state she is in I doubt they will believe a single word that comes from her mouth. That was the beauty of the plan!”

  Mr Butterfield explained as they were in the backyard burning a dark hood, prosthetic enhancements, the fake head, and the wooden post the axe had been on.

  “I guess, I just....I feel like she deserves more....” Mrs Butterfield moaned.

  “What more can we do?” He asked, becoming frustrated.

  “We could go after her parents,” she smiled. To which her husband smiled back.

  Hide

  Jason lay in the hotel bed mindlessly flicking through channels, bored, but restless. Click, click, click. Each channel more tiresome than the last. He was experiencing proof, first hand, that daytime television was officially dead. The room had a modern interior. Plush with leather sofas, mahogany fixtures and golden furnishings. He pondered how one in such a lush abode could be so miserable. Until a horrid talk show graced the screen. That's it! Jason gave in and turned the TV off with a frustrated huff, letting the remote hit the burgundy carpet with a flat thud. That was when he was almost deafened by a siren. A loud piercing ruckus broke out in the hotel room. A small white alarm in the corner flashed red. “What.....” Jason mumbled, thinking aloud.

  “Attention please,” a voice came from nowhere, repeating those same two words several times. He shot up and began gathering the most expensive of his things. A state-of-the-art laptop, phone, tablet and a new ereader purchased only a week ago. He scrambled around the room piling the technology at the bottom of the bed, ready for a speedy exit if required.

  “This is not a drill, a fire has been detected on your floor, please exit the building immediately,” the robot voice advised.

  To that, he scooped everything from the bed and hauled ass into the hallway. A bundle of worried people fluttered outside their rooms. Each anxious and jittery, unsure if it was a drill, false alarm, or there was in fact a fire in the building. Children looked scared, whilst parents were contemplating their next move. An unfortunate few were wrapped in towels, hair white and frothy with shampoo, having rushed from the shower into the hall. From the crowd Jason saw a young boy. He couldn't be older than six, with blonde hair and a few freckles on his face. He wore a grey t-shirt and joggers, no shoes, and no coat. Come to think of it, Jason realised he also had no footwear or coat. The temperature outside was freezing, if they were ordered to leave the building, it would not be pleasant.

  “Excuse me mister,” the boy spoke to Jason, prodding his thigh and wearing fear.

  “Erm yes....” Jason spoke softly to sooth the boy's concerns.

  “What do I have to do?” he politely asked, shaking.

  “What? Where are your parents?” Jason questioned, confused.

  He looked embarrassed for a second, which didn't make sense. “They are eating lunch in the restaurant.”

  Now Jason understood the shame on his face. Even at such a ripe age the child knew it was bad parenting to leave a kid unsupervised in a hotel.

  “Oh, well, erm....” Jason stuttered, unsure what to do next.

  When a man's loud voice echoed down the corridor.

  “Could everyone please follow me, now please.” An old man with grey hair and in a navy jumpsuit stood at the end of the hall, waving his arms. Not a second passed when the herd scurried frantically to the man, eager to find out what the hell was going on.

  “I guess we follow them,” Jason smiled as the child teetered just in front.

  Jason didn't want to admit it, or show it, but he was a bundle of nerves. The worrisome pack of guests paced down the hall and turned left into another hall. But what was strange was that when they reached the end of that corridor, they were faced with a blank wall. Already impatient guests were annoyed, wondering what they were supposed to do. But then an odd thing happened. A blank rectangle of wall slid up, revealing a metallic tunnel with harsh lighting hanging from the ceiling.

  “Follow me everyone,” the old man commanded.

  Jason questioned where the hell they were being taken. If there was a fire surely outside and away from the hotel would be the safest bet? But then again, he was no professional, and he had no idea what the actual crisis was. Maybe there wasn't in fact a fire, and that was a cover up for something much more serious. Terrorism? A poisonous gas? Jason stressed over the endless list of potential emergencies. All he could think was
that it had to be serious to be taken into a hidden metal hall that led to God-only knows where.

  Jason and the young boy were the last to enter and as soon as they were safely inside, the wall lowered behind them, covering the entryway, erasing evidence of the room. Clonk after clonk could be heard as the gang took anxious steps, added with the sound of hushed voices fearful of what exactly was going on. The streak of metal stretched for what seemed like a mile, until they were hustled into a large room. Which was when Jason was told to leave his belongings on a small tray outside, similar to airport security. Not wanting to cause a fuss or hold up the flow, he complied without hesitation. The boy clung to Jason, clearly scared, wanting to be in the company of a nice adult. Sympathetic towards the boy, and scorning his 'parents' he scooped up the kid and whispered into his ear.

  “It's okay, this is just to keep us safe, shhhhh.”

  Jason continued to utter into his ear, gently attempting to calm him down.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the man announced, capturing the entire group's attention.

  “I am sure you're all wondering what is going on?” he asked, which received an abundance of 'Yes' and 'Duh'.

  “There has been a very odd emergency, but an emergency nonetheless,” he declared.

  “What's the emergency?” a fat bald man wearing nothing but a night gown asked.

  “There is a.....there is a strange man that has been working his way through the state killing people...and the police have been unable to stop him.”

  That struck the group hard, causing an unsettling silence. But this quiet only lasted a few seconds until everyone turned to their friend or partner and started verbalizing their concerns. But the fat man seemed unfazed by this, and if anything, annoyed.

  “One man? Are you fucking kidding me? Does he have weapons? He a terrorist? He got people held hostage somewhere?”

  The gang of people stared in shock at his abundance of questions and inconvenienced demeanour.

  “Sir I do not know all the details but I have been ordered to keep everyone in here until I am told otherwise,” the hotel employee firmly responded.

  “You ain't fucking keeping me in here because of one man; I'll kill the bastard myself! Where's the army? FBI? This is fucking stupid!” he spouted.

  “Sir please watch your language there are children present!” he yelled.

  Strangely, he looked ashamed. A man who seemed nothing but rude and obnoxious, actually had morals when it came to profanities in front of children. Now that really shocked Jason.

  “Excuse me,” a very attractive blonde lady said.

  “Yes?” the employee responded, much gentler.

  “How will you know when it's safe?” she asked, wearing a red dress and heels, face plastered in make up. Clearly she had plans, places to be and gentlemen to impress.

  “I have a radio, and my boss will tell me when it's safe Miss.”

  “Is that him?” an old man in a suit asked from the corner of the room, pointing out a window. His wife's face pressed against the pane.

  The group rushed to the window in a frenzy, pushing and barging to get a good view. Jason waited until the inconsiderate people bullied their way to the front, then holding the young boy he tried to obtain a decent view.

  There was a man, wearing a black trench coat, walking down the road near the hotel. It struck Jason as odd that no cars were using that road given it was day time and situated in a high traffic area. The strange man was surrounded by hotels, office buildings and car parks. But nobody was visible in any window, no one walked down the path alongside the road, and there wasn't anybody moving around in the car park. There was no sign of life, save for him.

  “What's wrong with him?” Jason's young friend asked.

  “I...” Jason wasn't sure what he was referring too, until he noticed it himself.

  The man attired in the trench coat had red flesh. At first Jason had dismissed this and assumed it was blood. But upon closer inspection, it was crystal clear that his flesh was actually red. A crimson leather binding. Not only that, but there was no white in the man's eyes. They were completely and totally black. But what was by far the most terrifying part of this man's anatomy were the claws.

  No hands, fingers, or thumbs, but claws. The nails were so long they scratched the road as he sauntered forwards. They scraped along the asphalt, tossing dust and grit into the air.

  “Oh my...” Jason was speechless.

  Everyone shared in this and stared in shock, terrified into silence. The group's mouths were hung agape and eyes were pulled taut in complete disbelief. What exactly were they staring at? But this moment of quiet soon disappeared when panic broke out among the huddle of guests. Questions, fears and general chit chat bounced from the walls.

  “Mr, I'm scared,” said the young boy while tugging on Jason's trousers.

  “It's okay, we are safe in here, he won't get us,” Jason replied, not fully sure he hadn't just fed the young boy a load of bull.

  “What do we do?” a ginger girl with large glasses asked, almost hyperventilating.

  “Like I said, we are to stay in here until told otherwise. All this panic will do no good, and is pointless.”

  The chaotic atmosphere soon calmed down after that remark, everyone reverting back to staring at the supernatural creature.

  “Mummy, he is looking at us,” a young girl wearing pink overalls screamed.

  “Don't be silly, he is...” the mother's words were stolen by the realisation that the being parading down the road had stopped. The black evil pits in place of human eyes were in fact looking up. The thing was glaring maliciously at the huddle of now horrified people.

  “Don't be stupid, that is impossible, this window is tinted. We can see out, but no one can see in,” the hotel employee informed the crowd.

  “Oh yeah? Then why is he now headed for this hotel?” a man dressed completely in black with awful tattoos covering his once untainted flesh asked.

  That caused all heads to turn and necks to strain. The grotesquely Gothic man had in fact been telling the truth. Jason could see all too well that the creature was pacing towards their hotel. Even worse, it was smiling.

  “This can't be happening...” a middle aged woman began wailing.

  “Oh dear God! Help us!” a young man bellowed.

  “Please stop this nonsense immediately!” the employee ordered.

  “He cannot see us I promise! He will be looking at the hotel and perhaps something caught his eye,” he suggested.

  “Yeah, something did catch his eye,” a painfully thin young girl commented.

  “What?” a young man asked.

  “Us!” she shouted.

  The being left the long stretch of asphalt and paced over the path, cutting across the parking lot and heading for the hotel lobby. The crowd was now beyond hysterical, some wanting to leave, others wanting to stay. The employee trying his best to calm the fears which at first he thought irrational, but now he himself was rather fearsome of this strange creature.

  “We have to get out!” a woman screeched.

  “We have to stay and wait for help!” a man shouted.

  Sentences were leaping from people's mouths into the air like suicide jumpers. Jason was beginning to get a migraine at the deafening wails and shrieks of the hotel guests experiencing true terror. Jason was scared himself, but he held it inside and chose to breathe deeply as a way of coping. But soon enough verbal opinions and ideas were not enough for these people, and action had to be taken. Some began heading for the door, others huddled into the corner. The orders of the hotel employee did nothing anymore. When this disaster began his words meant something and held a level of respect. But now, his words were empty and simply joining in with all other words bouncing from wall to wall. A human instinct of self-preservation had kicked in. The young boy aside Jason began to weep.

  “He is going to get us,” the boy cried.

  Jason wasn't certain that wouldn't happen, but this wa
s a child, he couldn't scare him anymore.

  “No he won't, don't worry, I will keep you safe, I promise,” Jason prayed that was a promise he wouldn't have to see through.

  In the midst of calming his young companion Jason noticed the crowd had settled. They all stood still and had shut up. But by the way each stood, stiff and on edge, Jason wasn't comforted, but now even more nervous.

  “What's going on?” he asked an elderly woman at his side wearing a fluffy nightgown.

  “Shhhh!” she whispered with annoyance.

  Why were they all being so quiet? What had happened?

  Then Jason heard it too. A clunking noise. Clunk, pause, clunk, pause. No one knew what it was, but nobody liked the sound of it. It was at first quiet, but it was growing in volume. It was so silent that everyone's breathing could be heard. The room filled with anxious respiring, some trying to fend off an asthma attack. This odd ruckus grew and grew, until whatever it was, couldn't be far. Some looked out windows, others held their ears to the door, and a collect few knelt on the floor, squeezing their eyes closed in a silent prayer of safety. Then all it took was one scream for the dead silence to transform into manic yells of fright. Everyone fled the window and tried to escape, but the door was jammed. Not even the employee could open it. But Jason still hadn't been able to distinguish why everyone suddenly wanted out. Until he saw the monster floating at the window, looking in with a sinister grin smeared on the inhuman red flesh. It was suspended in mid air, seemingly waving its claws at Jason. That sent a shiver down his spine. But he also wondered, why him? Why was the demon attracted to Jason? Out of all the shapes and sizes of people, Jason stood quietly, now holding and comforting a child, in a plain t-shirt and dark trousers. The young boy was wheezing and shaking in Jason's arms.

  “Shhh, it's okay, he can't get-”

  Just as Jason was about to finish that sentence, the creature tapped the window with all claws and the glass broke into hundreds of shards and tinkled on the ground. Tiny pieces were blasted into the room by screams of wind, as the demon laughed, then entered.