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billywellshorror
Category:
Horror
Type: Fiction
Pages: 152
Copyright: Sept 24, 2014
ISBN-13: 9781501051371
Price: FREE! (eBook)
A coolection of thirteen stories in the horror genre with surprise endings
Thirteen tales of terror in the horror genre with surprise endings. Hark! If you don't like horror, please don't read this book. Heads roll to be sure so why torture yourself.
STORIES IN THIS BOOK
CRAWLSPACE: Two reporters interview a strange humpbacked man where gruesome experiments were conducted by previous owners.
CONVERTIBLE BANDITS: Two travelers take a tip to save time by taking a shortcut on a lonely road not on their map.
JUMPER: A patrol officer discovers a lovesick young man on a bridge contemplating suicide.
THE ABHORRENT CLUB: A group of depraved multimillionaires sponsor a freak show for their annual event.
DEAD: A young man killed in an automobile accident ten years ago visits his parents.
BUG: A professor is propositioned by a student who offers him sex for an "A.” VAMPIRE: After a woman and her son move to town, a serial killer begins a reign of terror.
STRANGER IN THE RAIN: A stranger asks a man in the deserted pool area of a large resort hotel if he will have dinner with him.
NO REST FOR THE DEAD: A gravedigger provides fresh cadavers for medical research and makes a killing.
PANDORA’S BOX: A man learns the love of his life can only marry him if he promises never to open her black box.
THE MONSTER NEXT DOOR: An apartment dweller is convinced his next door neighbor is a monster.
THE WALL: A rich playboy discovers an island with an enormous wall, Japanese soldiers, and a village of pygmy cannibals.
THE GREAT ZANDINI: A man hypnotized in a nightclub act becomes involved in a murder plot.
Excerpt
From Crawlspace
Alex and Mia, two young reporters from The Daily Chronicle, peered at the black foreboding structure through the trees the townsfolk called Hell House. Alex had parked his Toyota at the entrance to the town cemetery, which bordered the property and provided an adequate view. Gnarled leafless trees surrounded the black clapboard frame house only a stone’s throw from a hillside of broken tombstones dating back to 1651. The gray overcast sky and the chill in the air added to the somber, disquieting feeling Mia felt in her bones just looking at the structure.
This past April, a secretive, humpbacked man the neighborhood kids had nicknamed ‘Creepy’ had purchased this house and moved in. He had become the “Boo Radley” of Black Falls.
Mia heard Joyce Haines, the mysterious recluse’s closest neighbor, had snapped a picture of him driving by in his dilapidated black hearse the day he arrived and posted it on Facebook. No one had seen him since.
His ominous residence was scary and intimidating just like the reputation of the creepy eccentric owner himself. That’s why Mia had urged Alex to come with her. He was adamantly opposed to the idea, but agreed to accompany her grudgingly even after she wouldn’t let him feel her boobs.
Mia knew this could be just another wild goose chase like so many others, but she was hopeful and driven. Something in her gut told her there was a compelling story here.
She peered at the substantial, weather-beaten structure through binoculars. “The windows are so dirty, it's like a second layer of curtains, but I believe I see a light inside,” she said, sitting on the passenger side of Alex’s Toyota Sienna.
“Let’s forget this,” Alex groused. “It's not right to bother the old man. He’s obviously doesn’t want to know his neighbors. We should leave him alone.”
“Alex, we need one more article for The Chronicle. It goes to press tomorrow night. A piece about this weirdo and the infamous Hell House will be a perfect story to fill the gap.
Mia had discovered in her preliminary research the house had a malevolent history of death and dismemberment precipitated by a mad doctor named Angus Gloom. Neighbors located a quarter of a mile away had reported recurring nocturnal screams from the residence to the authorities during the summer of 1989. A search warrant and the consequent inspection of the property revealed Dr. Gloom had performed ghastly experiments on homeless people over a forty-year period. Skeletons chained to various torture devices and operating tables told the grisly story the prosecution believed would have yielded thirty-nine consecutive life sentences. The public outrage ended when Gloom hanged himself in his cell awaiting trial.
The records at the town hall indicated Gloom’s son, Barnabas, inherited the property. But, due to the scandal surrounding it, he let it fall into ruin for many years until the mysterious recluse with the black hearse had taken ownership this year.
Creepy had been the talk of the town for over a month after he moved in, but of late, the gossip had died away. Now, there was only an occasional prank of a teenager creeping up on his porch and ringing the doorbell after dark. Even then, the recluse never answered the door.
“I don’t know why you wanted to drive out here when you know no one has seen the creep since the day he arrived,” Alex bellyached.
“This is the only lead we have on a story to meet tomorrow’s deadline,” Mia explained.
“The old codger may have died in this old house for all we know. He’s old. And you know from the kid’s pranks he won’t answer the door.”
“We'll see.”
Alex almost dropped his teeth when Mia got out of the car, threaded her way through the trees to the front door, and rang the doorbell.
When no one answered after several minutes elapsed, she rang it again.
In the meantime, Alex had gathered his courage, particularly since he assumed the old man would not open the door anyway. He exited the car and joined Mia at the front door.
When he planted his feet alongside hers and joined in her waiting, Mia said curtly, “Well, Alex. You should forget about a career as a reporter. You don't have the constitution for it, or should I say, the balls.”
“That's not it at all. I don't want to harass the old man who obviously doesn't want to be bothered.”
“Really. The way your lip is quivering I’d say you don’t like knocking on doors of a house where people were slaughtered next to a graveyard.”
Alex fumed at the remark, but couldn’t deny it.
They had waited an inordinate amount of time and were about to give up and return to the car when the door creaked open. Alex almost browned his shorts.
“What do you want?” the eerie voice inside the door rasped.
“We're reporters from The Daily Chronicle. I‘m Mia Phillips and this is Alex Post. You are the newest member of our community, and we would like to include you in this month’s Get To Know Your Neighbor section of the paper. Do you have a few minutes you could spare to tell us a little about yourself?”
After a long silence, the door opened wider. Almost in a whisper, the voice said, "Come in.” The invitation reminded Alex of Bela Lugosi as Dracula inviting the realtor into his castle in Transylvania.
They followed the creepy little man into the foul-smelling gloom. From the foyer, he led them into a small room lit only by one flickering candle in a candelabra for eight. “Have a seat anywhere,” the humpback wheezed.
With only one candle burning, the room painted black, and two barely visible ebony sofas facing each other, the reporters had to feel for a place to sit. Finally, Alex disappeared into the darkness to the left close to the entry door. Mia plopped down on something leathery across from the grizzled old man.
As Mia peered at the two gaps in the upper row of his yellow teeth, she decided the nickname, Creepy, suited the old man perfectly. In addition to his grotesque deformity, he was cross-eyed and had a baldhead with ugly sores oozing pus. He also walked with a silver-tipped cane and dragged his left foot behind him.
Mia settled herself in the blackness, and rifling her purse for a pen to take shorthand, she said to the ugly man cloaked in shadow, “I'm sorry, sir, but could you turn on the light? I need to jot down a few notes during the interview, and the candlelight is rather dim.”
“I'm truly sorry, Miss,” he croaked. “I don't have the electricity turned on yet.”
The guttering flame of the lone candle casting weird irregular shadows on her steno pad made her heart beat faster.
She took a deep breath. “Let's start with your name.”
“My name is Vladimir Frankenstein,” the doctor replied with almost a lisp.
“Vladimir… Frankenstein,” Mia repeated eerily. “The same as the surname of the fictional character in Mary Shelley's book?”
“The same. It was my mother's favorite novel all her life. It was actually a great love story.”
“But Frankenstein…is that your real name?”
“I come from a long line of Frankensteins long before Mary Shelley was even born.”
“Really. How fascinating. And what did you do for a living before you retired and moved to Black Falls?”
“Oh, I haven't retired. I'm still doing research, the same as I have since I was a young man.”
Mia pondered his reply. “What kind of research, may I ask?”
“Genetic research, cloning, organ replacements…. Some reanimation.”
Mia’s face creased with misgiving. “Mr. Frankenstein, I….”
“Please. Dr. Frankenstein. I must insist,” he said emphatically.
“Sorry. I came here to write an authentic article of your life for my readers. I don't think you’re taking my interview seriously.”
The doctor twisted his grossly deformed shape closer into her space and sniggered. “Oh, but I am, I assure you. My work is a bit out of the ordinary, but everything I've told you is accurate.”
“You’re actually experimenting with organ replacements and reanimation much like the Dr. Frankenstein in Shelley’s classic novel?”
“Absolutely. Possibly her book and my mothers love of it inspired me to pursue these things as a career.”
“I would think not having electricity would be a serious hindrance in your experiments,” Mia said skeptically.
“Reanimation needs lightning not manmade electricity, and I work in the morning when the sun bathes the kitchen with more than adequate light.
In a pinch, I also have a generator with a crank I can fire up if I need it.”
They heard a sudden burst of wailing and moaning from underneath the floor.
“What is that, Dr. Frankenstein?”
“Those are some of the…” he paused, “lab animals whining for attention. It's getting close to feeding time.”
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