bITS 'N CHUNKS
Wow y'all, I really tried it with this story! I vaguely remember writing it and it was inspired by a lot of Turner Classic Movies and this Halloween banger right here, thus the title. If you read slow enough you can hear the damn yodeling in the background! I was actually impressed by this story because it was another total throwaway and I didn't care for it, but looking back on it now, I can't really roast it. Right down to that Tales From the Crypt ending. Okay, maybe I can roast it a little. I think this is the last time I would write a true horror story but I don't know, man, I might need to try it again.
Brian never wanted it to end this way. He never wanted to end up some evening news special cliché, but here he was. He'd killed the nag.
He didn't have to wonder what would drive a man to kill his own wife--he'd done it once before. 10 years of her incessant nitpicking had finally made him lose control. He was awful sorry, though, because overall he'd liked Stephanie. This big old house--they shared it with their furbaby Lily-- would be empty without her, but at least a lot quieter.
He wished she had just shut up every now and then. During movies, TV, board games just never ending squawk. Admittedly, he could have just divorced her but Catholic guilt pulled at him too strongly. Not that god condoned murder either.
He'd wacked her a few times in the face with a hammer, so hard he saw goo, then dragged her outside, wrapped in her favorite Egyptian cotton sheets. That was the last thing they'd agreed on. Damn, he'd miss her excellent decor taste.
Lily barked and growled in his lap. Finicky ol thing. She jumped up & ran to the door and started scratching st it. Brian's heart sank with the weight of too many horror movies.
"Who's there?" he called before realizing that was incredibly stupid. Sure, alert the scary people to his presence. With arms & legs weighed down with terror, he scooped up Lily and made quick strides upstairs, turning on every light along the way. Upstairs, in the master bedroom with the curtains & blinds drawn, he would wait until morning. Yes, daylight would drive all the horror away.
Some deep breathing put Brian to sleep until morning. The morning jog would be cold today so he suited up and dressed Lily in her Christmas sweater and tutu. He had almost forgotten all about last night's horror until Lily started chomping at the bit again.
Shit. Could he go outside? This dog had to piss tout suite & he'd be damned if he cleaned it up.
Bravely, he opened the door. Lily bolted. Out of breath from years of house husbandry, Brian wheezed after her.
She ran right to the garden he and Stephanie kept, now in slight tatters from where he'd dug it up to bury her. Lily ran around in a circle and for a horrifying moment Brian thought the crazy bitch's hound pedigree was coming out. Until he heard it.
Whispering, soft and gentle like the rising steam from a fresh cup of tea.
Brian was no fool, and later that afternoon he was on the phone with a realtor to sell his boyhood home. The furniture, the leaky bathroom faucet, and the memories of his absent parents could all go.
Dusk was settling and Brian had to turn in paperwork for the fastest sale of all time by noon tomorrow. By morning he'd be safe.
He blocked himself up with Lily in the bedroom again and did some deep breathing exercises.
Just as he was creeping asleep, Brian was awoken by the sound of a heavy lock. He jolted all the way up and stared at his bedroom door. No. Not that one.
The front door.
The key mother always left under the mat in case he locked himself out or she came home late. Stephanie didn't know about that.
There was the sound of plates and chatter in the dining room. The tea kettle was on. He could smell fragrant jasmine aroma. These were the most posh burglars Brian had ever heard of. There was a gun in the stairway closet that had never been fired, would probably jam if he even tried, but Brian hoped the sight of a tall, wide man and an ambiguous hound mix and a shiny shotgun would scare the cads off. Didn't they know there was a haunting afoot?
He crept down stairs as softly as he could, holding Lily's muzzle down so forcefully he was sure he'd broken one of her teeth. Slobber dripped down his elbow. He made a show of opening the closet and cocking the shotgun--he thinks, anyway. He's not totally sure, but it was enough to get the posh robbers' attention.
"Come out slowly and no one gets hurt," he said with more conviction than he really had. There was a pause, and then the screech of chairs and the soft padded dragging of feet. But something was wrong, the rhythm was erratic and sounded like a stumble or a limp.
White fingers gripped the corner of the dining room door for purchase and a petite body pulled herself out. The brain goo had dried on her face and neck, and the torn up strips of cotton hung raggedly on her grey, bloodless frame.
"Why, if it isn't Brian! We were just talking about you, love."
Brian's voice stammered into a scream. Lily alternated between whimpering woundedly, barking, and snarling.
"Hush now," mother said. Bits of linen still clung to her patches of hair, a partly dismembered arm held together with long-hardened sinew. There were tulips in her hair from the garden.
"While I was in that cold, wet dirt, I was just speaking to mum--I never got to meet her, she told me why," Stephanie elaborated. "Oh, and I found Jessica, too."
Despite being nearly as "fresh" as Stephanie, Jessica was missing her lower jaw and so her communication was limited to groaning and stomping of feet in the polyester sack Brian had thrown her in.
"Like I said, we were just talking--"
"But we're quite famished now," mother said, licking her lips.
"Thank you, for bringing us a snack with tea..."
Ia! If you've come this far, you're either looking for weird or you know you've found it...