MicroHorror

July 31, 2008

Babysitting Troubles

I could see the lights from a house in the distance and I thanked God. In the hour since I wrecked the car, little baby Joseph had fallen back asleep and I had traveled at least three miles through the dark woods. Thanks for giving me the scenic directions to your new house, sis. It almost got your kid and me killed.

Carefully, I held Joe in my hands as I stepped through one last large bush and into someone’s backyard. But nothing could prepare me for what I saw as I gazed through the large glass sliding door and into that house.

Three… inhabitants sat on a couch, completely motionless. They hardly looked human. It was as if someone had taken pale yellow skin and stretched it over the dry bones of a skeleton. You could just imagine that when they moved you’d hear a horrible creaking sound. Their hair was long, messy, and stringy. Deep, dark, probably dank holes held bloodshot eyes that stared straight forward at who knows what. I was just thankful it wasn’t at me and little Joe. They were clothed in old, but fancy dress. Like something you would have worn to church… in 1920. All three of them had their arms folded upon their laps. But the worst thing about them was the smile. Wide as fuck, making sure that each and every one of their yellow teeth was on display.

Every hair on my body stood up, and my spine was most certainly chilled. “You know what, Joe?” I said to the sleeping infant my sister had entrusted to my care. “I think we’ll go to the next house.”

It was another hour walking alongside the road before we came to another house. The lights at this one were off, and I felt bad ringing the bell, but not more than a minute later the door slowly slid open with a squeak to reveal the woman from the skeletal trio. I managed to keep little Joe safe through a car accident and traveling a dense, dark forest, but that shock nearly caused me to drop the poor kid to the ground.

“Hello?” She spoke, never losing that wide smile. I look around, from side to side. I didn’t remember the road turning at all. How did I end up back here?

“I’m sorry, miss,” I finally answered, avoiding eye contact. “We’ve been in a car accident… Can I use your phone?” She nodded yes, and mumbled something I couldn’t hear. I followed her into the house where she led me to the living room. The other two of this terrible trio turned their heads (which did indeed cause terrible creaking) to look upon me and Joe.

“Hi. Just here to use the phone,” I told them. They remained silent. The lady, if you could call that thing a lady, pointed to a phone on a nearby desk. An old rotary phone. Retro. I moved toward it, but stopped dead in my tracks as she cleared her throat.

“Let me hold the baby, dear. Just while you use the phone.” The eyes of this trio burned into me. I looked down at sweet little Joe, fast asleep and unaware of the horrors right before him. I looked to the door, contemplating running.

“You don’t want to do that, dear.” She spoke again. “Now hand me the child.” She walked toward me, arms stretched out. I was shocked to find my arms meeting hers, and dropping Joe into her bony hands. She started to rock Joe in her arms; something barely resembling a lullaby escaped her pale lips.

I woke up the next morning tied to a bed, complete with a gag in my mouth. Joe was nowhere to be seen, but one of the trio stood above me, bloody knife in hand. He was shaking, laughing I think. But it sounded more like bones rattling. Sorry, sis. I told you I was a horrible babysitter.

May 10, 2008

This Reminds Me of That One Story

Jeff and I were watching TV one lazy Saturday afternoon when suddenly a giant insect crawled into the room. It shined a silver color, had eyes of the purest black and resembled a five-foot-long grasshopper/lobster hybrid. It was moving very slowly. I estimated that with it being about ten feet away, it might take the vermin over an hour to reach us.

“Oi. Do you see that, man?” Jeff said, apparently just taking notice of the creature. “What do you reckon should be done about that?” He hardly seemed worried, but it was still a question that had to be asked.

Some time passed and the program we were watching came to a close. I looked over to check on our new house guest. I saw that it had halved the gap between us.

Jeff nudged me. “I’m going to the kitchen, you want anything?” I glanced back at the creature. The route to the kitchen would take him right by that thing.

“No. I’m all right. Thanks though.” Jeff got up and walked in the vermin’s direction. It slowly turned its head to peer at him with those dark eyes, but could not change its direction fast enough and soon enough Jeff was past him. I sighed in relief.

“Hey, Jeff.” He stopped, not more then three feet from that monstrous insect. “Doesn’t this seem a bit familiar?” I asked him.

“Familiar? How so?”

“I think I remember reading about something like this in a book once.”

“Something like what?”

I stared at him dumbfounded, and indicated the creature.

“Oh, right. Well what did they do about it in the story?”

“I think they killed it with an apple.”

“Like a food allergy?”

“No, not so much. I believe they hit it with an apple.”
“Right. Just a moment, then.”

Jeff returned with an apple in one hand and a beer in the other. We gathered next to our slow moving vermin, and I watched as Jeff tossed the apple at the creature’s face.

It became lodged within the creature’s black eye. A dark fluid resembling ink flooded from the wound. It dripped deep into my carpet. As I began to contemplate how I would get that stain out, the creature’s mouth shot open and out came the loudest, most high-pitched shriek I have ever heard.

Jeff and I were forced to put our hands over our ears. It only lasted a matter of seconds, but the effect upon us was strong. Our hands dropped to our sides. They were covered with blood that no longer felt welcome inside our heads. Jeff stumbled a little, and then fell altogether onto the floor. I soon followed.

After a few minutes we regained consciousness. After some struggle we were able to speak, but seemed to be paralyzed in every other capacity. We were helpless now. The creature inched closer. There was only about a foot between that horrible insect and Jeff’s feet now.

“What do we do now?” Jeff asked me. “What happened in the story?”

“I don’t know. I cannot seem to remember. I hope it ended better then this, though.”

After this we decided to remain silent. In fifteen minutes the vermin had closed the gap and slowly began to devour Jeff. It took him almost two hours to eat his legs. Jeff screamed in pain and agony. Apparently the paralysis did not provide the luxury of blocking out pain.

I pleaded with Jeff to remain quiet, but his blood curdling screams never ceased until he died an hour later. The creature turned its attention to me now. I believe I’ll have at least ninety minutes before it reaches me. And all I can think of are Jeff’s screams of agony. I’m terrified. I can’t take my eyes off the creature that means to eat me alive.

“Kafka’s Metamorphosis! That’s what this reminds me of.” At least I figured that out.

May 4, 2008

April 30, 1945

“Mien Fuhrer, you can walk!” Now that is a hell of a thing to wake up to.

My head was pounding with pain, and my mouth tasted of peanuts. I knew my friends were dicks, but really? They put peanuts in my mouth after I passed out at that party?

I could feel liquid dripping down the back of my neck, and those assholes wouldn’t shut up. I couldn’t even understand most of them. What the fuck is that? German? Are they speaking German? How the fuck did my retarded-ass friends learn another language?

I had to put my hands to my ears to try and shut out all the noise. Some prick must be watching a Saving Private Ryan or something in the living room with the sound all the way up.

My eyes finally adjust to the light and I fall back to the ground and hit my head. Shit starts to go black, but I know what I saw. My asshole friends in motherfucking Nazi uniforms. Everyone makes a racist comment here and there, but that is just too much.

***

I’m in bed now. My head still hurts. Someone was nice enough to wrap it, though. Surely not one of my friends.

There is only one person in the room. A nurse by the looks of it. Kind of fucking hot too. I smile as I try to sit up but she motions for me to stay put and walks out into the hall, shouting in German. What the fuck kind of cheap ghetto hospital did my friends take me to this time?

A man rushes in, he tells the nurse to leave and shuts the door. This asshole is dressed like a Nazi too. “Hello?” he asks.

“Where the fuck am I and why the fuck are you wearing that, asshole?”

The man turns paces back and forth. What an ass.

“I’m not sure how to explain this, sir,” he says with a thick accent. “We needed a fall guy, you see. The Russians are at our doorsteps here, sir. And if we don’t hand you over then it will be our balls. Our balls, sir! And seeing as you did the horrible dishonor of…of what is the English phrase….‘being a fucking pussy’ and blowing your brains out, we were quite fucked.”

All this is going over my head. Did someone slip some fucking acid in my drink last night?

“Thankfully all of the resources you put into studying the Occult paid off.” He knocks on the door and two more assholes bearing swastikas come marching in, these guys actually carrying guns! I always thought my friends were lazy, but damn. They really committed to this prank!

“Thankfully we were able to locate your soul, heal your wounds, and now everything will be okay.” One of the ‘soldiers’ aims his gun at my head.

“Whoa, asshole. You shouldn’t even pretend to do that shit.”

“Ich bin trauriger geehrter Herr, aber Sie sind unter Anhalten!” He shouts as the other soldier moves in closer, handcuffs ready. He slaps them upon my wrists and starts to drag me away.

I kick and scream and for my efforts I receive a gun barrel to the face. What the hell is going on here?

***

“Dude, you finally waking up? You got fucking trashed last night. You should call Sally, she is totally pissed at you.”

“Was? Wer sind Sie? Wo bin ich? Was geht das Bumsen, Sie bumsendes Arschloch weiter?”

“Calm down, asshole. Stop shouting that gibberish, and seriously stop banging your hands on my desk. You’re gonna bust that fucking thing up.”

The Pricks

I had a funny feeling that the Smiths were serving me people for dinner. I’m not sure why I suspected this, or why I continued to eat it, or even more so why I didn’t get the fuck out of there when I had the chance.

No sense in getting bent out of shape about it now. There is nothing I can do about it here, six feet underground. After all, they want me to get scared. To freak the fuck out. They said it is fear that really gives human meat such a delicious flavor.

So that is why I am able to stay perfectly still awaiting my suffocation when the casket runs out of air. I may have been too fucking dumb to save my own life, but I can still ruin their next dinner party.

The Smiths. More like the Pricks if you ask me. Ha! That’s it, Thom. Just keep laughing. Have to keep that fear at bay…

September 18, 2007

“Don’t Forget your Hat, Jimmie!”

Well… I bought this recorder so I could sleep through class and not takes notes. Never thought I’d be leaving my last thoughts on it.

The door isn’t going to last much longer. They have been pounding on it for what seems like hours. Each crack and splinter in the wood sounds twenty times louder then the pounding fists on the other side. I am so going to fucking die today. And I didn’t even get laid.

Might as well start at the beginning. I’m a freshman in college and have been living in the dorms for a while now. I guess if I had spent less time talking to my girlfriend on AIM, and more time out and about on campus I would have noticed them earlier. Of course, temptation could have made me one of them that way. Thanks for keeping me busy in my room, Nikki.

I don’t know when it started, but once my classes started having attendance in the single digits I started to look around at things a bit more carefully. I had noticed that people seemed to be fucking like bunnies, but never thought anything of it. I mean, come on, this is college. And we are in the fucking country, for God’s sake. There isn’t anything else to do out here, really. Wish more of the bastards would have practiced safer sex, though.

That is the only logical way it could spread so quickly. This… virus? It must be passed through bodily fluids and shit. I don’t know how it got started. Aliens, government testing, new virus caught from fucking a monkey. I have no clue, but it is in the blood and it makes them horny as hell. I guess sex zombies would be a good name for them. God, when did my life turn into a crappy Sci-Fi Channel movie?

I guess I am the last uninfected left on campus. That must be why they aren’t trying to… I dunno, seduce and fuck me like they did to the others. It would appear they just want me dead.

Oh, my fucking Christ. Blood is seeping under the door and my barricades. Insane amounts of blood. It sounds like there is a fucking battle going on out there. Not guns. Sounds more like… swords? Slicing and piercing flesh.

I thought everyone was dead or turned. There are hundreds of those sex zombies on campus. To be able to fight them off would take unbelievable numbers, unity, and planning. They would have had to have to known each other well before this shit went down to coordinate this kind of an attack. Oh my God. Of course! Why didn’t I think of finding them earlier!? They must be the only other virgins on campus. Thank God for the Anime Club!

August 21, 2007

Hushabye

E-6. The Mystics. “Hushabye.” After giving up my quarter and pressing the button combo the song quickly started playing. I sat down and listened as I scanned over the menu, tapping my foot all the while to this classic 1950s song. It is a shame people can’t appreciate the past like they should. This choice leads to them missing out on so much history.

Take this young girl, for instance. She can barely seem to get her grammar straight as she takes my order. It is pathetic, really. She looks about twelve years old but wears that uniform like a common street whore. Her name tag reads “Teagen.” What the hell is that? Parents nowadays will throw any random letters together and call it a name.

I order a cherry Coke and cheeseburger, medium well. I just know she’ll find a way to fuck it up. My song runs its course and some modern day pop piece of shit comes on. The whole music industry is now talentless little girls that act like sluts.

Teagan finally comes back to my table twenty minutes later with Coke in hand. Where is the burger, you ask? I’d like to know the same thing. She walks away again without asking if I need anything. If this girl was going to make it out of this diner alive her tip certainly would have just been sliced in half.

***
The burger drips blood. How you can manage to cook a cheeseburger rare but still make me wait 45 minutes for it is beyond me. Teagan comes back to drop off the check at the hour point and I manage to get her attention before she hurries off to more attractive customers.

I point to the menu with a false question. She comes in close enough so that I can grab her hand and slam it down onto the table. You would think the little bitch would be used to being treated so rough by men, but she still squeals as a finger bone breaks apart.

Before she can yank her hand away I grab the steak knife from the table and ram it through the backside of her hand. She screams in pain and terror, and all of the patrons of this fine establishment turn their heads towards the commotion.

Big muscled-up retard co-worker comes jumping over the counter to her rescue but I quickly remove the knife from her hand and rake it across his eyes. He falls to the ground at the same time as the girl and they make a little pile of human waste. Amazingly the blood they have spilt is less than what leaked out of my medium-well cheeseburger.

The manager on duty tries to talk me down as I pick the terrified waitress up by the hair and put the knife to her throat. I call his attention to the fact that I was here last night after they closed and left a little gift under the register.

My old wristwatch is strapped to the modern homemade explosive device. It had about fifteen seconds until it would stop ticking forever, and the former gathering place of my friends would no longer exist. But the first to go would be Teagan. I don’t know if she heard me through the sound of her crying, and the screams of the other guests. Shame, I really wanted an answer.

“How did you enjoy the song?”



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