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I was amazed how quickly my dad found a new house for us after he was told where his job was headed. I never really try to understand what anyone want...

PREVIEW: Jack in the Box

September 13, 2018

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Party Time! Part Six

Friday, October 6, 2017

“Ashley! Hope! Where are you?” Trevor called out as he stormed into the den, the TV now nothing but static screeching in the dark. A sinister giggle echoed from somewhere in the room, along with a whimper.

 

Trevor pulled his father’s .45 from his belt, clicking the safety off. Whatever the fuck these things were they could take some major abuse, but not much could take a shot from the heavy pistol and remain on its feet. Slowly walking around the couch, gun aimed up in the air, he slowly moved the flashlight over the expanse of the room, looking for any sign of the girls.

 

All he found were bloody foot and handprints from the small creature that he had bludgeoned in the kitchen, trailing over the couch (with long cuts in the material from the beasts wicked claws) and out of the den into the entryway of the house.

 

A slight glimmer caught his attention, having him spin his flashlight back across the room towards the windows, the rain pounding on the other side in an oddly soothing rhythm, shielded from view by the heavy, dust covered curtains that hung from a rusty pole. Moving his flashlight carefully, he finally found where the glimmer had come from when he noticed a pair of bare feet sticking out from beneath the curtain, a simple silver toe ring glinting in the artificial light.

 

Ashley.

 

Rushing over to the curtains, he pulled them back, only to feel three ice cold blades rake across his chest as something the size of a bloodhound pounced onto his chest, giggling and crooning a children’s lullaby as it clung to his chest.

 

Firing a shot errantly into the window, Trevor fell back onto the floor, the strange creature on his chest slashing at his face and neck as best it could while shrieking “Play! Play!”, his flashlight unfortunately now dropped and out of his reach. Fighting through the pain, Trevor leveled the gun into the creatures stomach, nozzle pressing against slick grey skin over bone, and pulled the trigger.

 

A torrent of clotted black blood poured from the wound as well as from the back, the flash of light created by the gunfire revealing to Trevor he’d leveled the gun into the abomination’s left hip. Chunks of gore spattered bone clattered behind them as the creature howled in agony, leaning forward to sink its fangs into Trevor’s shoulder with a horrible crunch. Crying out in agony, Trevor wrenched his hand free from beneath one of the clawed feet of the injured monstrosity, thumbing the creatures eye in an attempt to pry it off of him.

 

A sickening feeling of an oozing wound greeting him as his thumb pierced through the soft orb, bleeding out onto his hand and wrist. The creature’s only reaction was to rear back its head, tearing away a strip of meat from Trevor’s shoulder in the process.

 

Before he could try anything else, Brandon came to the rescue in the way of smashing the creature, as well as Trevor’s left hand, with his impromptu bat, sending the creature tumbling off of Trevor in a flurry of gushing blood and frayed muscle. It scuttled against the hardwood floor for purchase, rolling into the dusty beam of light cast by the flashlight, revealing to the two teenagers all its profane glory of blackened veins and deathly pallor. Twin black eyes, sunken into the creatures skull like twin bits of coal, glared at Trevor with equal parts hunger and humor, a twisted smile gracing it’s lipless face. It’s left leg dangled uselessly from its ruined hip, flopping about like a fish freshly caught and left on the dock to suffocate.

 

“Play with me…” It implored, stretching out an arm that clearly held broken bones, waspish fingers ending in wicked hooks as it attempted to drag itself closer to Trevor’s prone form.

 

“Fuck no.” Trevor replied, taking the precious few seconds to aim his heavy pistol at the grinning dead before pulling the trigger, blasting the upper half of the skull into a shower of grey-green matter and black goo. “Brandon, what the fuck was that? And where is Ashley?”

 

Brandon responded by vomiting, the smell of rotten flesh finally reaching Trevor as well from the multiple wounds given to the strange creature. Whatever it was, it smelled of decay and rot, a sickly sweet smell akin to copper and sweat. Propping himself up on his elbows, wincing ass the action aggravated his shoulder wound, Trevor looked to see what state Ashley was in.

 

Only to find a lone foot, severed at the ankle, propped carefully against the molding of the wall.

 

Cursing, Trevor rolled over and got to his feet, placing a hand over the hole near his clavicle to try and stem the gushing blood. “Brandon, I need something for this. Dude! Help me out here!”

 

Brandon looked up, wiping his mouth with the side of his wrist to try and clean his face of his own juices, before stumbling over to the front of the couch where the beers and the bag of pot were sitting. Scooping up the large plastic bag of weed, he tossed it to Trevor with a simple underhanded throw. “Stuff that into the wound then tear off a strip of your shirt and stuff it over. Maybe it’ll dull the pain, but it’ll at least help stop the bleeding.”

 

Trevor looked at him incredulously as Brandon picked up the flashlight, fanning it over the room in a wide arc, before shrugging painfully. Tearing at the bottom of his shirt, he opened the bag of weed and grabbed a handful, wincing as he stuffed the green and purple substance into the wound, digging it in with his fingers until he felt it beneath his muscles and tissue. Taking the strip of cloth, he handed it to Brandon. “Tie me off man, let’s see if we can find Hope and get the fuck out of here.”

 

Brandon hesitated for only a moment before pinning the flashlight between his knees and taking the strip of cloth, wrapping it underneath Trevor’s armpit and over his wound, tying it off tight.

 

“I’m sorry about Ashley man.” He said awkwardly, his eyes darting to look at the pale stump beneath the shattered window, rain now pouring in and forming a puddle of cold water, soaking the drapes.

 

“Hey, she’s not dead yet. And there’s still Hope. We gotta find them man, it’s just… we can’t just leave ‘em.” Trevor said, slightly dizzy from the blood loss.

 

Brandon grabbed the flashlight, holding up one of his hands to show he wasn’t protesting. “Hey, I’m with you. No way are any horror movie reject gonna munch on my friends and not get their asses kicked.”

 

“How many more do you think there are?” Trevor asked, kicking the corpse errantly as he spoke.

 

“There’s that one from the kitchen, and we’ve killed two already. That one plus the lady, I’d say that’s about it. At least, I hope that’s it.”

 

Somewhere from deep within the house a high pitched scream tore through the sound of the storm, along with the sharp sound of a violin beginning to play.

 

“That sounds like Ashley!” Trevor said, his dizziness now shaken away.

 

“And that sounds like it came from upstairs.” Brandon said

 

“And you two sound like you don’t want to play anymore.” Came a childish voice from behind them.

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