Nightmare Fuel: The Ultimate Collection of Short Horror Tales Page 13

  "Ready," she beamed.

  Rick turned and hoisted her up, elbowing the door open and leaving the bathroom in haste.

  They rushed over to Susan and Kirsty, who sat playing a game of I Spy.

  "I think we should go," Rick suggested to his wife.

  Susan turned mid-guess, frowning in confusion. "Go? Why?"

  "There was some writing on a cubicle in the bathroom, warning people who arrive here to leave. Some were even scratched onto the wood," he worried.

  "Seriously? That's your reason? That is probably kids messing around," she waved a hand dismissively at his silly fear.

  "Susan! There was the entire inside of the door covered in these warnings! Why would kids do that?" he stomped. Sally began to fret in his arms, whimpering.

  "Great, now look what you've done, scaring Sally!" Susan yelled, opening her arms to Sally.

  "Come here sweety, wanna play a game with me and big sis?" she offered.

  Sally instantly grinned and stretched out to Susan. She lowered and sat Sally on her knee, bouncing the girl as she giggled hysterically.

  "Susan, are you gonna answer me?" Rick asked like a moody teenager.

  "Rick! Please, kids graffiti tall buildings!" Susan shouted.

  "That's art, not warnings to get out for your life," he bellowed.

  The lively debate was suddenly put on pause when a loud bang echoed from the entrance. Rick whipped to face the double doors, and Susan's pulse loomed in her eyes, vision beating with adrenaline. The children, absolutely horrified, nestled into their mother's protective embrace. Each girl nestled their heads into the many rolls of the dark winter coat.

  "Hello?" Rick asked the dimness, fists clenched and body tensed in preparation for anything.

  There was no response. The eerie silence quickly became petrifying after that.

  "What do we do?" Susan asked, swallowing nerves.

  "We leave, and get out of this place," Rick ordered.

  Susan took a deep breath and stood, holding both girls in her arms. Rick advanced forwards cautiously, planting each foot with care. Susan and the girls followed a few inches behind, all shaking in a bundle of terror. The darkness had mutated as if the moon itself feared the unknown visitor and fled in a hurry. The hectic rain and creaky floorboards were the only noises lingering in the dark, with the exception of very subtle respiring. The wind thrashing into the decrepit church didn't help their anxiety much. Sally and Kirsty envisioned monsters and ghouls hiding on the other side of the entrance doors. Just waiting to hack and slash and bash the entire family into a meaty pulp, grinding bone and flesh into disgusting chunks. Susan pictured a gang of hillbilly cannibals, waiting to gorge on their skin, and devour every internal organ, their faces smeared with blood. But Rick's fear was far more real and portrayed the haunting a past event still had on him.

  A couple of years ago Rick and Susan had made the horrific mistake of allowing a neighbour to babysit Kirsty. Little did anyone know, he was a highly disturbed man. He kept up pretences of being an average American citizen as to indulge in his sick fetish. He adored harming children and watching the pain on their innocent faces. Fortunately, the couple had come back from the restaurant early and entered the babysitter's home. The instant Rick saw this man running a sharp knife along his baby girl's soft skin, he flew into a violent storm of rage. Jaw clenched, fists beating into the sicko, and feet ploughing into the guy's stomach. The guy had been close to the brink of death after the enraged father was finished with him. The police had come and luckily they let Rick's outburst slide given the circumstances. But the guy had a family, a big family: drug dealers, rapists, murderers. None of them would be nominated for citizen of the year anytime soon. His family was now at risk of retaliation, so they'd moved in with a family member until they sold their house and relocated. Rick wasn't intimidated in the slightest; he could easily take care of himself and his family. But as work monopolized a great deal of his time, he wasn't always home when his family was. And at the time, Susan was pregnant with Sally and didn't need to be constantly worried. Now Rick had to admit, he was scared. He imagined the whole breed of them waiting outside with chains, knives, bats, and guns. But rationality eased his concerns as they were miles from their former home. It would be an awfully strange coincidence if they were outside. Either way, they would find out what was outside soon enough.

  The family was now crowded only inches from the rotten doors that brought them into the deceptively dangerous place. When Rick stepped on a termite infested board, it crumbled beneath his foot and plummeted into the basement with a thud. Already being alert and vigilant, he'd launched himself backwards. With arms outstretched, he threw his family back with him, away from the gaping hole. They landed with an omph, their multi-layered winter clothing absorbing most of the fall.

  "Is everyone okay?" Rick turned whilst standing, staring at his family who were dusting themselves off and awkwardly rising.

  "Yup," Susan replied, rubbing her neck.

  Both girls nodded, squirming, no doubt from touching the grimy floor. Even Rick wasn't thrilled about lying among the various forms of crap scattered on the wood. Rick gently peered over and looked down into the newly formed cavity. The blackness clouded the basement heavily, but he could make out soil, some wooden beams holding the structure, and of course the broken masses of termite ravaged wood that he'd sent tumbling into the abyss. Other than their only exit being blocked, he wasn't too alarmed. He figured they could break down the boarded up windows and climb out. They had to get out, this place was giving all of them the creeps. Not to mention it was now a very hazardous building, not being strong enough to withstand the weight of two adults and two children. But when Rick saw a hand wriggling out of the soil down below, it wasn't a case of wanting out anymore, they needed to get out.

  "Back up! Now!" Rick ordered, shuffling him and his family away from the dent.

  "What is it Rick? What's down there?" Susan asked, forehead frowning in distress.

  "I....w....something bad," that was all Rick could think of. He didn't want to add to the already heavy weight of horror pushing down on Susan's shoulders. And he'll be damned if he adds any more despair into either of his daughter's wide eyes.

  "We just have to get back, but be careful on this floor everyone, it's clearly not safe," Rick advised, back turned to the black void.

  "Rick!" Susan screamed, pointing behind him.

  Pale, ripe, creepy people had started climbing out the floor's gash. The girls shrieked as they all scuttled away from the hoards of undead beings rising from their basement graves. Rick resourcefully began launching chairs at them. They were cheap, plastic and old, but they sent a couple tumbling back into the basement. But within no time, the chairs had been used, and Rick's energy was dwindling as he fought for breath in the chaos. The white coloured faction of the undead were relentless, they just kept climbing. Two had made it from the darkness and were crawling on the ground, approaching the helpless family. Rick was beginning to understand the warnings in the bathroom now. Rick was fixated on the ghostly bodies that continued to writhe and slither at him and his family. But his attention was distracted when his daughters screamed bloody murder. He whipped round to face the back of the church, near where Jesus hung, to see something truly terrifying. Sneaking from the heinous gloom was an old nun. Skin wrinkled and saggy, clothing torn and shredded, but that wasn't what was scary. Her eyes were black and blood trailed from her smiling toothless mouth.

  “SINNERS!” she yelled, pointing at Rick, Susan and the children.

  Rick jumped and goosebumps made their way onto every inch of their body, he was truly petrified of this woman.

  “May the Lord have mercy on your tainted souls!” she shrieked, gums oozing blood, and then broke out into a chilling laughter. As she chuckled hysterically her pitch went from painfully high to unbelievably low, resembling a demon. Rick couldn't help but think of exorcism and possession movies where innocent people speak low and bellow u
nnervingly when a demon inhabits their body. Which wasn't helping his escalating fear. The girls had begun wailing, sniffling and wheezing in horror.

  “What do we do?” Susan helplessly asked, tears lining her eyes and face a deadly white tint.

  For the first time in his life, he didn't know. His worst nightmare was to not be able to protect his family. Had it finally happened? How would he battle a demonic nun and famished zombies squirming from their graves?

  “I....I....” Rick tried incessantly to think of anything when something grabbed his leg.

  Rick jerked to a zombie gripping his ankle, looking up at him with decaying and torn flesh, jaw snapping, hungry for fresh meat. Using his other foot he stomped its head and thankfully it was crushed rather easily. This gave him hope. That was until his eyes fell upon the hoards of them now out of the dark den, all worming their way to him, and even more getting out. He guessed almost a hundred of them were snaking to him, eager to chomp on his carcass. Rick stumbled back, shoving his family to the far window where the chairs had been, only to notice a door handle glistening in the dusk. It wasn't the bathroom, but on the other side of the church, another door with a no doubt equally reasonable space, where they could possibly hide? Out of options and out of luck he hauled his family from the creepy nun and floor-bound zombies and to the door. But unlike the restroom, this door was locked.

  “Damn it!” he roared.

  Yet Rick continued to bash and kick and fist at the door. The wood was surprisingly sturdy given that this church was on its last legs. But within seconds the wood had splintered, leaving a large enough space for them all to squeeze through. Which they did.

  The room was once upon a time an office. A mahogany desk, drawers, filing cabinets and chairs. But there was a coating of dust over everything, cobwebs clung to the corners and the wood had long lost its lustre, tarnished beyond repair.

  “We need to block the hole in the door,” Rick shouted to Susan.

  Just as they were about to grab a heavy-looking bookshelf Susan paused.

  “Susan we need to hurry!” he ordered, confused, scared and irritated.

  “Where's Sally?” she asked fearfully.

  Rick's heart dropped as he quickly surveyed the room to see only one of his daughters. Without thinking, without assessing the situation, Rick leapt through the hole and went back into the church hall.

  The zombies now covered every inch of the floor like a sickly pale fleshy carpet. He had to quickly step between and on them to make his way through the heap of the living dead endlessly grappling at him.

  “Forget something?” the old evil nun asked, holding Sally.

  Oh God! Rick's pulse boomed looking at the devilish nun holding his daughter and seeing her alarmingly sharp claws running along his baby girl's face.

  “Get the fuck away from my daughter you bitch!” he rumbled, anger taking over his fear, the paternal instinct clouding his previous terror.

  “Speak to me like that again and I'll slit her little throat and throw her in the pit,” she whispered. Pit? Oh, she meant the basement, with those things! No no no.

  Rick played a balancing act whilst conversing with the unholy woman, crushing skulls and kicking away wriggling fingers.

  “What do you want? She is an innocent little girl!” he spat.

  “Perhaps, but you're sure as hell not are you?” she winked, making blood stream from the eyeball, crimson matting into thick spider-like eyelashes.

  Oh no, she knows! Rick's face filled with nervous warmth, hands shaking.

  “Y...b....Okay, don't punish her for me, please, I beg you,” Rick's tactic had gone from threatening to pleading. In the middle of his new approach to get his daughter back he heard Susan and Kirsty shriek from the office. They were screaming and asking for help. What do I do? Rick wasn't sure his heart could take anymore as his lungs were ablaze, struggling for breath, throat becoming papery and dry.

  “You choose my dear, I will allow you to save this girl,” her prickly claws stroked Sally's cheek as she sobbed, face a dark red, creased and wet from tears. Rick wanted nothing more than to snatch his daughter from the psychotic nun and punch her square in the jaw, but he knew that wouldn't help anything.

  “Or those in there,” the index finger of her claws flicked, pointing to the office.

  She has got to be kidding. The twisted bitch.

  “Are you joking? I am not choosing who dies! You're one sick fucked up bitch!” he hissed.

  “CHOOSE!” she roared, with a demonic growl reverberating underneath her voice, ricocheting off the fragile walls.

  “I can't choose, I will not choose,” he protested, stomping on more squishy skulls, almost falling.

  “Very well,” she muttered gently, then everything went black.

  ***

  Rick's head was pounding. He lay in bed, nauseous and aching, glazed in sweat. How the hell did I get out of there? Wait, where's Susan and the girls? Letting his pains fall to the back of his mind he tumbled from bed still wearing his winter clothes and searched the house for his family. “Susan?” he called out.

  He paced through every room, turning door handles, checking under beds, opening closets, and continually yelling their names. But nothing. No answer and no one was found. What is going on? He looked at clock's to realize he couldn't tell the time anymore. It was as if he was gawking at a foreign clock using a language that meant nothing to him. How was this even remotely possible? Did I suffer brain damage? Then he heard the all too familiar sound of the front door opening. He galloped from the living room through the hall, passing by the kitchen and stopping at the front door to see his wife and two girls enter. He couldn't help but cry. Tears streaked his face as he thumped onto his knees in happiness. He didn't know how this had happened, but he didn't care, he had his family back. Rick rose and jogged to his girls, needing to hold them tight, feel them in his embrace. But the strangest thing happened, he fell through them. Not into them, but passed through them. He bumped into the fridge, discombobulated.

  “Sue? What the...” he rubbed his forehead, and none of them turned to him.

  “Sally? Kirsty?” he shouted. But not one of them paid attention to Rick, lying on the kitchen floor, beyond perplexed. Using the fridge handle he pulled himself up, unsure whether he should be angry or worried. Did he do something wrong? Rick followed them into the living room, repeatedly yelling their names and receiving no response. His heart thundered when they all sat down on the leather couch, dressed in black, weeping horrifically. A photo of Rick was on the brown coffee table, surrounded by flowers and candles.

  The nun appeared behind Rick, reeking of blood, mould, and death, whispering into his ear. “I had to take someone's soul...” she giggled, as Rick screamed.

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  Keep reading for your FREE sample from ‘Frightful Tales #2 He’s Watching Me’

  Sample from Frightful Tales #2 He's Watching Me

  Her legs almost buckled at the horrifying discovery that there could be an uninvited, potentially dangerous guest lurking in the castle. Laura placed a hand on her chest to steady her over-active breathing. She tried urgently to think with logic, it could be kids? They knocked, went unheard, got restless and broke in. Then after seeing candy a few feet into the hall, were brave enough to steal it. Yes, that was most likely it. Even though this was a very likely possibility, a part of her feared this explanation was too simple, too good to be true. But her mother often said 'sometimes the simplest explanation, is often the right one'. That it was just cocky, arrogant, greedy kids, and not something more insidious hiding behind the
veil of reasons. She was at a crossroads, one part yearning to gallop upstairs and seek refuge in Toby's room. But another part wanting to stay, close to the door, settle, and stop being silly. Then her legs began to move.

  Laura still hadn't made a firm decision as to whether to flee, or close the door and stop the bitter cold barging in. But her two pins seemed to have made that decision, giving no choice but to continue onwards and shut the wooden piece. Until she stood, now only metres from the entrance, nothing outside but deceptive darkness: elusive and mysterious, but also deadly. With the ability to cloak the evils of the night, and cloud nightmares until they sneaked up when least expected. She could see the massive field that was this castle's version of a front lawn, but calling it that would be insulting to the astronomical size. It was a mountain of green, with tall streaks of brown bark holding leaves, stabbed into its canvas. Eager to get this over with, Laura reached out, grabbed the handle and pulled, slamming it shut. This time, to prevent any further distress, she locked it. It had many locks and bolts, as if the building held all of the government’s highly classified secrets. Once all locks had been engaged with an abundance of clicks and taps, she made for the kitchen, craving a soothing mug of tea. On occasion, she did indulge in flavoured coffees and frappuccinos, but she knew that to settle her nerves a nice, milky tea was just what the doctor ordered. Perhaps they had a nice selection of herbal fruit teas? Both being doctors and expectedly health conscious, they were sure to have a premier collection of beverages hidden in a cabinet. Upon entering the vastness of the kitchen, she noticed something atop the kitchen counter: a candy bowl.