FANDOM: Friday The 13th
LENGTH: Short
CATAGORY: Thriller/Horror
RATING: R for language, violence, gore
DISCLAIMER: The characters and some of the storyline belong to their respectful owners. No infringement was intended on their copyrights. No rights or royalties were received in writing this. This is for pure entertainment purposes. The remainder of the storyline are 100% mine.
STORYLINE: Crystal Lake Research Facility 2010.
SUMMARY: What would happen if someone was actually respectful to the killer? Would he still kill them?
MAIN CHARACTERS: Jason Voorhees, Private Johnson.
NOTES: Special thanks to the yahoo group, Kane Hodder's Fan Club for giving me the push to write this and then naming it for me! Thanks ladies!
She glared at the man in front of her. Hatred clearly visible in her eyes as she visioned his head flying across the room with the help of the
killer's machete.
With the thought a smile started to form across her lips and she had to turn her head away to keep him from seeing.
"Private Johnson!" She rolled her eyes and glared at the man once more.
He stood over the lab table, drill in one hand. He was dressed in full surgical gear as if he were afraid of catching the monster's killer mind or
something else that was impossible.
She snorted and shook her head.
"Private, please I need your help." His cold eyes bored right through her and she lowered her head to keep from meeting them. "NOW"
"WHAT!" She had enough.
When she had volunteered for this position,
she had been told all it was, was guarding a prisoner. In fact she wasn't even supposed to be here, she had lied on her request stating she was a well qualified state corrections officer, one that had worked years armed and watching over the nations most notorious criminals. Instead of the small time city jailer that she was. But still she hadn't been told she had to do any of this "help me out while I dissect a living, breathing and awake human being" shit.
"You were placed in here to help me. Now I expect you to...help...me."
"No." The sarcasm was thick in her voice. "I was sent her to make sure he didn't kill your prized rich little ass."
*If I don't first* She glanced down at the man laying on the table between them.
"What ever it is you want to do to him." She took a step backwards, folding her arms across her chest. "You do on your own. I don't want any part of it."
"Dammit it soldier. You do what I say or your ass is mine."
She raised her arms, her palms towards the ceiling as she shrugged her shoulders. "Fine." She turned slightly and slapped her own backside. "Take it. I'm still not helping you with this _experiment_."
"Experiment? This is a prized opportunity to study such a magnificent creature"
"Creature? You talk about him like he's an animal instead of the human being that he is. A living, breathing human made of actual flesh." She
clenched her hands into fists trying to keep her anger lowered. "You stand there poking and prodding him like he's some type of disease or a monster."
"He is a monster. He's killed over 200 people, innocent victims. That in my book makes him a monster."
"Yeah well too bad he didn't get to you." She hissed back at him through her clenched teeth.
Now it was the doctor's turn to glare. He hated her almost as much as she hated him, but more for the fact that he wanted her and she totally denied him. He looked down at the body strapped to the table in front of him.
The large man was staring up at the ceiling. His one good eye seeming unfocused. Like he was some where else in mind and spirit rather than here with his body.
Johnson stood back, leaning up against the wall as she watched the doctor press a button and the table started to tilt upward, making the man strapped to it upright.
Even though he was strapped down, he towered over the two inside the room with him. Johnson was used to it. At 5'3" almost everyone was much taller than her. But she could tell the doctor wasn't used to it, and it was making him uncomfortable.
She had to fight the urge to smile once more. But it wasn't too hard when she had to turned her head away and grimace, trying to close out the high pierced whine of the drill as he stuck the tip into the man's head.
The last thing she remembered before she closed her eyes was the look in the unmasked man's dark green eyes. That look would haunt her forever. It was a look of pure evil with a hint of pure terror.
She allowed her mind to drift away. A secret she had back when she was a child, back when her step father had repeatedly abused her. Even though her body was there, her mind was somewhere else.
She remembered that day over 10 years ago when she had walked out of her home. She had been tired of the abuse but it was a newscast on television that had made up her mind. The story was about a young boy of about 11 years old who had supposedly drowned at a local lake back in the 60's.
Years later he had shown up quite alive and seeking revenge for the death of his beloved mother. His killing spree had gone on for all the years since then. She hated the fact that everyone wanted him dead. No one seemed to
understand him.
He was just a monster. But she had seen something in him, something that she had once herself seen in her. That dreadful night when she was but 10 yrs old when she saw her father killed before her.
She had vowed she would make those who had done it pay. She wanted them all dead but instead she took the legal way out and testified, sending them all to their deaths
in jail.
This poor child she first learned about that night had grown up by himself with just his mother by his side, never going to school, never having any
friends.
Through her research she had learned numerous things about him, including the fact that he was disfigured beneath the mask he wore.
When she heard he had been captured she set out to get a job at the facility they had him in. Once inside though she learned there was no helping him, as she sadly watched them repeatedly try to kill him.
She vowed secretly to herself that once he was transferred to this facility she would make sure that no one else would hurt him.
It seemed easier said than done.
A slight cling brought her mind back to the present. Johnson opened her eyes to see the doctor stick a large needle into the large man's head and draw out blood.
He stood there strapped to the table in the up right position, his eyes staring forward still.
The doctor turned around and walked over to a table lined with glass beakers and a microscope. Using the freshly drawn blood, he laid it on a slide and started fiddling with the microscope.
Seeing her chance, Johnson quietly stepped forward towards the examining table. Having to stand on her tip toes to meet him eye to eye, she gazed sadly into their dark depths.
He seemed to see right through her, never moving, never blinking.
"Jason." She whispered, bringing her hand up to his face, aiming to turn it towards her, but she hesitated a few inches away.
She looked over at the hunched over form of the doctor, making sure he was paying her no mind. Looking back at the man before, she inhaled sharply as her eyes met his dark ones that were now focused on her's. Her heart pounding, her mind telling her to move away. Yet she willed herself to stay there.
"I'll get you out of here." She whispered once more.
Jason squinted back at her, watching her glaringly.
"Hey! Get away from him!"
She stumbled back almost tripping over Jason's feet as she did so.
"You have no right to be that close to him, You never know what he could do." The doctor moved forward and roughly shoved the smaller woman out of the way.
Johnson watched the doctor's victim as she regained her footing and stepped further back. His eyes were now staring hard at the unaware doctor before him. She could see the hatred lying deep within them.
The doctor ignored her, as he himself stepped closer to the restrained being. With scalpel in hand he set to work, carefully dissect small pieces
of Jason's flesh and laying them in a petri dish sitting beside him.
Johnson laid her right hand on her pistol and slowly flipped the hood restraint back on it, freeing the top of the gun. Her eyes never leaving
the man's back in front of her.
The doctor shifted slightly and she saw what he was doing. What got her most was the blood dripping down the side of the table and forming a small dark pool underneath. The man dressed in scrubs had no care in the world of what type of pain he was causing his victim.
She spotted a large surgical knife laying on the spare examination table.
She stepped silently towards it, her eyes glued to the knife. Her mind going over the easy movements she would have to take.
Pick up the knife, three steps to the right, wrap the left arm around the shoulders and bring the right one down in front. With one quick slice his
throat would be laid open.
She almost picked up the knife.
*No I will not stoop to his level.*
She raised her eyes and met the dark stare of Jason. He was silent, no emotion showed on his face, but yet she seemed to understand a silent
message from him.
The doctor cleared his throat, causing her to glance over at him."So you've decided to help now?"
Her gaze immediately hardened. "No just trying to decided who's going to do the killing first."
The doctor stared at he dumbfounded, not quite understanding exactly what she meant. Johnson smiled and ???ed her head at his confused expression.
He looked at the knife in his hands and then back at his patient. Once again he moved forward to continue but as his eyes laid upon those of
Jason's, he stopped with the knife still poised above him.
Johnson folded her arms across her chest again and watched amused at the doc's sudden confusion.
The doctor as if he had just forgoten what he was doing, did a double take between Jason and Johnson,then he tossed the knife into a sink and ran the water over it. He shook his head to clear his mind and walked over to another table, loaded down with chains, restraints and a holding jacket.
Working with quick skill and experience, he snapped the wrist restraints onto the larger arms of his patient. His fingers flying, his eyes never
leaving those of the man before him, he carefully placed the jacket on him and started wrapping the chains around his body.
The thick links were heavy and would hold anything. Or at least that's what they told him.
He wrapped the chain a couple of times around the large man's shoulders, crossing it over his chest. Finally, feeling he was secured as best as
could be, he snapped a large padlock closed on the loose ends at his back.
Johnson watched, her face expressionless, her eyes cold. Every once in awhile she would look into Jason's eyes, trying to guess what the man was thinking, what he was feeling.
She watched sadly, her eyes threatening to fill with tears as the doctor placed the finally restraint on him. A large solid ring of metal placed over the man's head resting around his neck.
With his hands and arms chained securely to his chest and his whole body being held up by even more chains hooked through loops on his shoulders in the jacket to the ceiling, it would be impossible for him to free himself.
Johnson jerked suddenly and caught the white item the doctor had thrown at her with quick reflexes.
"Since you seem to be all buddy buddy with him." He pulled off his own mask and the remaining surgical gear. "You get the privilege of placing that on him."
She turned the item over in her hands. It's front was smudged badly, giving it an almost grayish look but yet it was still in good shape.
Staring hard at the doctor she stepped forward and gently placed the signature mask over Jason's face.
She gazed into the darkened room. It reminded her of a large gymnasium back home where sports games were usually played. Except in this one the floor was solid concrete and the walls were solid metal. The door itself was seemingly unbreakable.
She looked off into the darkened shadows at the thing they wanted to keep so tightly locked up.
His body was being held up by chains looped through hooks mended onto a jacket he wore around his chest then strung upwards, high up into the rafters of the ceiling were they were bolted and welded into the metal tiles.
His hands were each restrained with heavy hand cuff type of restraints, resting in front of his body.. The thick linked chain that wrapped itself
several times around his torso kept his arms from being moved. The neck restraint was made of the same type of material as the wrist ones were.
He had been placed on a raised platform no wider than the span of his shoulders. Almost as if they wanted him to be on display.
She moved forward as quietly and as slowly as she could. Her eyes never leaving him in front of her. A small light was shining down upon him,
making the surrounding room, save for the command console to disappear.
His head was tilted downward and at first she thought he must be sleeping, but then she noticed his eyes staring at the space on the floor in front of him.
She paused a few feet from him. "Jason." Her voice shook with the fear she tried to hide from him.
She waited patiently, remembering the time in the lab when he didn't respond right away.
Several seconds passed with out any movement from him except for the slow rise of his shoulders with his even steady breathing.
She moved closer to him and took her time looking him over. The chains were padlocked in the back. The key was more than likely with the head of the facility or with that doctor.
After what he had caught her doing in the lab she never would have guessed it would have been so easy to get first shifts watch over him in the
confinement room. No one else was willing to go first.
In her slow, careful inspection, she noticed an iv sticking out of the side of his head. It's clear tube running up one of the chains to a bag filled
with a clear fluid.
Trying not to disturb him, she stepped up on the platform behind him and leaned upward with her hand. As she reached for the bag and turned it, she nearly lost her balance, she placed one hand reflexively on his shoulder to keep her from crashing down, in doing so she brushed up against him roughly.
She found herself surprised to find him warm, like a normal human would be.
"As if he isn't" She mumbled to herself as she stepped down.
The bag was saline. "At least they are keeping you hydrated." She made her way around to his front, continuing her inspection, not really expeting the almost kind gesture they had shown.
Feeling eyes on her she looked up and realized he was watching her closely. That same hatred still in his eyes.
She could feel her own heartbeat quicken as she took several steps backwards.
"I'm not going to hurt you." She raised her hands in a comforting manner.
A lame thing to say to a man who couldn't or wouldn't die.
Even though she felt sorry for him, she was still deathly afraid of him.
After all he had shown no remorse to anyone. Killing all that seemed to come in contact with him.
His eyes seemed to cut right through her, making the panic inside of her start to rise up, She turned meaning to run but collided hard with the
console. Regaining her footing quickly she rounded the corner and stood behind it, her breathing coming fast almost in gasps as she watched him.
His gaze shifted ever so slightly. His eyes returning to the same spot in front of him.
She breathed deeply, forcing herself to calm down.
"Jesus Johnson, he only looked at you." She told her self reassuringly.
She placed her hands on her forehead and rubbed her temples. It was going to be a long night. And she had no idea how she was going to go forth with her plan.
Footsteps resounded loudly off the bare walls, echoing throughout the room.
"Private Johnson, I'm here to relieve you of your post."
"Private Jackson." Johnson hissed under her breath. "What's the meaning of this? My shifts not over."
"Dr. Wimmer wants you out of here." He made his way over towards the chained man. "Jason Fucking Voorhees. Never thought you'd be in this
predicament did you?"
Jackson let out a laugh. Johnson glared daggers at him but still refused to move.
"Are you going to leave or not?" He made his way over to her, his back to Jason.
She glanced over his shoulder at the man who still remained motionless.
*Now what the hell am I going to do?*
"I'm senior to you Private, you better do what the doc says." Jackson shoved her slightly, trying to get her riled up.
"Fine!" She shoved him back and turned around the console.
As she passed by him, she sadly looked up at Jason. "Soon." She whispered so that no one could hear.
She stopped and turned back towards him, not really believing what she had seen. Something in the almost 24 hours that she had been near him she had never seen him do.
He had slowly blinked.
She furrowed her brow in confusion, his eyes remained down cast.
Getting an idea she turned and walked around the back of him.
"Hey Jackson."
"What now?" He didn't care to hide the irritation in his voice.
"Big guy here needs another iv bag, can you go get one for me?"
He rolled his eyes at her but never the less headed for the far end of the room.
Once she saw him duck outside, she went to work. Working quickly, trying to will her hands to stop shaking, she reached for the padlock. Digging into her pocket, she pulled out two small thin objects.
Lock picking devices.
The loud boom of his boots sounded his return. Johnson passed him smiling sweetly at him.
"Actually I lied, he's got plenty. I just wanted to see if you would do it."
"You bitch." Jackson threw the bag at her retreating back.
Slowing her steps even more, she waited until she could hear him stop at the console. Glancing over her shoulder, she saw her moment.
Without hesitating she pushed the door open wide then stepped off into a darkened corner. As the door thumped shut, Jackson glanced up. He was
finally alone.
He stepped around the corner of the console, his eyes seeming glued to the man before him, so tight that he nearly tripped over the corner of the
console. He rested his arm upon one ledge and glanced over the controls before returning his gaze to the hulking shape. The light from the buttons lit up his face in an eerie way.
Jason smoothly shifted his gaze, locking his dark eyes upon those of the soldier's.
Jackson started to fidget, shifting his weight from one foot to the other, nervously. Trying to swallow the lump that had risen in his throat.
Jason continued to stare at him, squinting his eyes.
Jackson glared back, his nerves on edge, his look partially annoyed, partially scared. He leaned over and picked up a blanket that was laying on
the floor underneath the console.
Keeping his eyes on Jason, he moved cautiously towards him as he unfolded the blanket. Blinking several times, he tried to get rid of the sudden
dryness that had come upon his eyes. Jackson stared hatefully into the mask of Jason, trying to keep that fact that the man made him nervous hidden.
"Why don't you stare at this for a little while, you ugly bastard." He stepped up onto the platform, a threw the the blanket over the taller man,
covering his face.
The attack came so sudden, the private didn't understand what was happening until it was too late.
Jason had sprung with inhuman quickness, wrapping the chain around the soldiers neck. he slammed his head into the platform and yanked the man's body upwards with the chain, snapping his neck. The killer stepped down, watching his latest victim slowly die. Reaching for the disregarded blanket, he himself tossed it over the guy's head covering his dead eyes.
Johnson's heartbeat resounded loudly in her ears. She opened her mouth in hopes of keeping her rapid breath silent as she watched the scene unfold before her. She had seen numerous dead bodies but never one being killed in front of her.
Sensing another, Jason turned toward her. She slunk back further into the shadows trying to become part of the wall. He started forwards and she was sure he could see her. She willed her body not to bolt, remaing as still as she could.
Voices from outside stopped him in his tracks. He glanced at her and she was sure he met her scared eyes. Silently he himself stepped back into the shadows, leaving the dead soldier hanging underneath the blanket as if it were still the prisoner there himself.
Dr Wimmer walked in with the troupe of soldiers following close behind.
There were 4 of them dressed in full tactical gear and another with the ranks of a sergeant that was in uniform.
Johnson smiled to herself as she noticed one of them holding a catch pole.
*Like that's going to contain him.* She slunk down the wall into a crouched position, waiting for the killing to start.
Dr wimmer sighed heavily at the sight of the blanket over the man.
"Can we get that rag off him?" His voice was laced with annoyance.
The sergeant motioned for his men to surround the blanket clad form. Slowly he stepped forward and reached upward, grasping the blanket in his hands he pulled it off to reveal the hung Jackson.
Wimmer inhaled sharply at the bloody sight
"What the hell?" The sergeant didn't quite believe his eyes.
Without warning, Jason swung out at the unsuspecting soldier closest to him. The soldier grunted as his body was whirled around and crumpled to the ground, his skull crushed.
The sergeant opened fire with his shot gun as another let out with his automatic rifle.
Jason grabbed the second soldier by the throat and launched him at the sergeant, knocking both to the ground. The soldier's neck was crushed, the sergeant being temporally knocked out.
A third soldier fired rapid shots into the killers body, but they had no effect on the super human creature, as he continued to attack.
Dr Wimmer turned and fled at the sight of the soldiers quickly being killed off.
Jason swung one of the chains still wrapped around his body at the firing soldier, wrapping it snuggly around his neck, choking him.
The 4th soldier approached him from the side with the catch pole but Jason was too quick, he grabbed the pole, whacking it hard across his neck. He then yanked the chain causing the other dying soldier to fall flat on his back.
Never missing a beat, Jason raised the pole still in his hands and launched it at the fast retreating back of Dr Wimmer.The pole speared him through the chest and he sank to his knees.
In a panic, Johnson fled from her hiding spot. She sprinted past the shocked doctor and ducked underneath the console, with hopes of being free
from the deathly reign of the man she had freed.
Jason stood still, his breathing coming in deeply as he watched the dying doctor. Movement out of the corner of his eye maked him turn towards the
awaking sergeant.
One quick step, Jason had him in his hands and tossed him towards the wall, forcing his body to crash through it as if it were paper, instead of the
think steel that it was.
He turned towards the console, knowing the last was hiding there. Silently he moved forward, rounding the corner to find the cowering girl underneath.
Johnson saw his boots first, she raised her eyes upwards running them up his body til she met his own. She was visibly shaking with fear, sweat beading out upon her forehead.
The light glinted off the machete that he held in his right hand.
She became confused, wondering to her self where he had gotten it, as he raised the large knife over his head for the final blow.
Johnson ducked her head and closed her eyes. her body became ridged, awaiting the deathly strike. Tears started flowing down her cheeks despite her efforts.
The seconds ticked by seemed like an eternity.
Nothing had happened.
Daring herself, she opened her eyes and raised her head looking into the mask of Jason.
He stood still before her, but now the machete was lowered to his side. He ???ed his head in that characteristic way of his. Watching her curiously, like he was pondering what to do.
Then turned and left his rescuer to herself.
This fic won 3rd place for Aug 2002 at the "Castle of Spirits" website! check out the links section on the main page for access to this site.
FANDOME: original
CATEGORY: horror urban legend style short 1/1
RATING: pg-13 minor violence, minor language
STORYLINE: Missouri late November
SUMMARY: A group of high school buddies goes in search of the truth behind an urban legend
DISCLAIMER: copyright@2002 by afawkes
NOTES: this was thought up after being told the stories of Ricky Road. There is a Ricky Road in the Kansas City area of Missouri and the stories have been told. As far as their truth it is unknown.
Everyone knew the legend that came with Riney Rd in Missouri. They heard the stories of how a family had broken down on that long bridge over the creek.
How after several minutes of being stranded the car suddenly started bouncing up and down as if someone was jumping up and down in the bumper.
Someone very large.
Then there were the kids who wanted to see for them selves if there was truly a large man like creature that was out there chasing away the poor people who for strange reasons always seemed to break down in the middle of that bridge.
I was one of them. Me and a bunch of high school buddies had always thought of going out there late one night and seeing for ourselves if there was such a creature or if someone was just passing on another urban legend.
One night late November of last year we decided to check it. COurse this was after we all had downed a few beers. So we piled in my friends Taurus and headed over to Riney Rd.
The road was like any normal street. Paved unmarked two lane. Houses were
scattered about on each side. Then you hit the woods. The trees were tall with their branches stretching out over the street making it seem like you were driving through a dark tunnel.
Your bright lights barely made enough light to see. The road was winding and you had to watch your speed.
An early snow fall had the ground covered in white powder, muffling any
noise.
We drove on at a snails pass creeping along the road, so as to not wreck out on the wet pavement. After a couple of miles, the road made a sharp curve to the right.
My friend driving brought the car to a stop. The headlights shown straight out illuminating the bridge before us.
"We all ready for this?" His knuckles were turning white from him griping the steering wheel so hard.
"You're not scared are ya." Another one piped up, mocking the driver.
"Hell no." I could see the fear in his eyes though.
He slowly pressed the gas and the car lurched forward. Despite the cold we rolled down the windows. The crunch of the tires on the unmarked snow echoed off the cast darkness.
In the middle of the bridge he once more stopped. Turning the ignition off, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and shivered. I wasn't so sure it was from the cold.
"hey man you think we should turn off the lights?" My tough guy friend received a thump on the head for that one.
But still we turned off the lights.
An hour later we all were shivering now more from the cold than anything.
"We should go." I wasn't really wanting to stay any longer.
It was obvious there was nothing here. The stories had just been legends.
"Man I gotta take a piss." The guy next to me opened the car door and flat fell out onto the ground, drunk.
We all howled with laughter. My driver buddy over his sacredness threw an empty beer can out at him.
The one on ground pulled himself up using the car for support. "Forget you, man!" He flipped us the finger and proceeded to stumble his way over to the side of the bridge.
With the head lights off and no moon out, he disappeared within a few feet.
His voice rang out in a drunken beer song, throwing all us into fits of hysterics again.
With out warning his voice stopped. Like a cd that had been suddenly turned off. No slowly winding down. Just flat stopped.
We heard a thump and had assumed he had passed out.
Mr tough guy in shot gun decided to go get him. He had just opened the car
door and placed one foot on the ground when a strange animal howl filled the night air. It sent chills running up my spine like someone with ice cold hands was tracing it with their finger.
The guy in front froze were he was. When he looked back at me his face had gone white.
"let's get out of here ya'll" The driver's voice was barely audible.
"No we can't leave him out there." With neither of the two guys in the front moving, I took it upon myself to be the rescuer.
I slid across the seat and climbed out the same door my friend had left open a few moments before. Straightening up, I tried to let my eyes adjust to the darkness but with very little light it was next to impossible to see.
Carefully, one foot in front of the other, I made my way in the direction he had disappeared. I glanced back over my shoulder and saw my two buddies with their faces pressed against the glass. They had shut the back door behind me.
I heard a strange noise then. It sounded like someone breathing but more like they had been punched in the stomach and all their air had been forced out of their lungs. I sensed something close, something big. The hair on the back of my neck was standing straight up.
Almost in slow motion I turned my head around, facing front. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a flash of movement. A blur, a flash of something
big and gray. I heard a gasp from in front of me or maybe it was from me.
A shape started moving towards me and fast. It was directly in front and coming on a course for a head on. Frozen in my tracks, all I could think to
do was raise my arms.
The shape collided with me knocking us both to the ground. I rolled over onto my stomach and leaped to my feet, ready to strike out. My drunk friend lay crumpled on the ground. His eyes were wide, his face had been drained of any color. I heard that strange breathing noise again and that was all it took.
I grabbed him up, half dragging half caring, we ran to the car. Slamming into the closed door my two friends inside nearly pissed in their pants.
Together working more against each other, we tried to get the door open from the outside. Finally the driver came out of his shock and opened it from the inside a second before we came through the window.
Rolling up the windows we sat there huddled together. Our breath came out in white puffs, quickly fogging up the windows.
Daring against my better judgment, I wiped the glass clear and peered through it in the direction my now silent friend had gone before. Suddenly
a movement came flying straight at the door, colliding with it in a clatter of hooves.
A deer, a young buck, staggered back to his feet and stared back at as. Then in a flurry of brown fur he was off once more.
I can never forget that deer. For in his eyes, was a look of pure terror.
"Start the car! Start the car!" I started screaming repeating over and over as my friends desperately tried to get the old engine cranked over.
The engine cranked over and over. Cold from being shut off for so long in the weather it wouldn't catch.
"Man your gonna flood it," MY tough guy friend reached over and stopped his hand from turning the key. "Just wait..."
He barely got the words out. We felt it hit the back of the car. A loud thump. Like some one had kicked the back bumper. Then the car started bouncing.
We all were screaming at the driver to start the engine. Panicked by the car being bounced up and down, he dropped the keys. Shaking so bad he could barely hold them he got them back in his hands and started the engine.
All it took was one try.
He pressed on the gas, not caring that we weren't getting any traction. The heat from the tires quickly burned through the thin layer of snow. The second the tire hit pavement, the car shot forward sending it into fish tails. He quickly gained control of it and sped off towards the end of the bridge.
The drive home was quiet. None of us could talk. More likely were all were still frightened over what we had just experienced.
Parking the car in the driveway, we all slowly climbed out. Scared sober by this time.
Rounding around the back of the car, my fellow back seat passenger stopped and just stared at the trunk. Curious as to what was up, the 3 of us joined him.
What was there I think frightened us even more.
Perfectly imprinted in the snow on the trunk lid were two very large hand prints.
FANDOM: original
GENRE: horror/thriller
RATING: R for language, intense scenes
PAIRING: none
DISCLAIMER; copyright@2004byscb
STORYLINE: small town in texas on a summer night
SUMMARY: it's dark, your home alone, thunder and lighting roar thru the sky, and the lights go out..
CHARACTERS: Miranda - the woman; Buford - the Siberian Husky.
NOTES: this was based on a dream a very good friend of mine had and she gave me permission to turn it into a short story, thank you MKE!!!!
It was a dark and stormy night.
Miranda sat alone by herself, curled up on the couch in boxers and a tee shirt watching "Queer As Folk."
She shifted her position on the plaid colored couch, bring her legs up and curling them underneath her. She reached behind her and pulled down the afghan blanket from the back of the couch and wrapped it around her, trying to control the shivers that had suddenly racked through her body.
The air all of a sudden seemed chilly. She glanced over at the digital thermostat on the far wall, squinting to get a better look at it. 79 degrees. She should be feeling that cold. She turned her eyes back to the television set in front of her.
Slowly the numbers on the digital face of the thermostat started to drop. 78...77...76...Within seconds it had dropped almost 10 degrees.
Rumbling came from outside as brief flash of lighting streamed across the sky. Miranda glanced out the big bay window, watching as the wind picked up, bending tree branches nearly to the ground. Green leaves were ripped from their perch and strewn across the back yard.
An odd clicking noise brought her head around to the other side of the room, to where the door led into the dark kitchen. It sounded almost like tapping on the window. She shook her head. Probably a tree branch moving across the window.
She reached for the remote beside her and began flipping channels. COmmercials she hated them and usually surfed for something else to watch during them. Nothing was on.
The tapping noise came again. She frowned in the direction of the kitchen. Then she turned and glanced outside behind her. The wind had died down, but the tapping continued. She crawled across the couch listening intently to the noises coming from the darkness before her. The tapings sounded as if they were moving across the floor.
She rolled her eyes. "Buford! Lay down!"
The large Siberian husky.
She laughed to her self and settled back down.
Just as she was about to switch back to her show, noises came again. This time it sounded like something being dropped. Something heavy.
"God Dammit Buford settle down!" She yelled angrily, not bothering to look in his direction.
Several minutes passed. The wind had picked up again. Thunder gently rumbled across the sky.
BOOM!
Miranda jumped at the noise. *That had been inside*
Her head whipped around towards the kitchen once more. IT sounded like someone had dropped a bowling ball from 10' above to the hard linoleum floor. Frustrated, she threw the blanket off her and stormed into the kitchen.
"Dammit Buford I've had enough!" She flipped on the lights in the kitchen.
As the harsh light filled the small space, she glanced around. It was completely empty. No dog came eagerly to greet her.
She padded silently in her bare feet over to the back door and peered out. Lightning flashed, illuminating the small covered enclosure just outside. The large form of the dog, laying in front of the dog house, was seen beneath.
She shook her head quizzically not understanding. Turning around. Looking out the small window above the sink. The only window. There were no trees outside that window.
Lighting flashed illuminating the dog. His tongue was hanging out. Blood slowly dripped from the corners of it's mouth.
Thump.
Her eyes whirled around. The lights went out.
"Fuck! I paid the electricity already today!" She sighed heavily, turning towards a row of drawers, rummaging through them for a flashlight or candles.
Lighting briefly lit up the room once more. A shadow out of the corner of her eye. She spun around, dropping the flashlight. It shattered open on the hard floor, it's batteries rolling away underneath the table.
"Grrrrrr" She threw her hands up in frustration.
Just as she bent down to pick up the flashlight, movement in front of her made her freeze. A large mass, slightly shifted. She stared at the spot. Her mouth open, breathing coming fast, her heart seemed to want to pound out of her chest.
She swore she had seen that shadow move. It looked almost inky, just a dark corner but it had moved she was sure of it.
She stayed motionless. Staring at the spot for several seconds willing it to move again. The creek in her back finally made her stand up. She flipped on the flashlight. Nothing happened. She slapped it against her hand a couple of times before she remembered it had no batteries.
She took two steps to the side and quickly bent down again. Not taking her eyes from the spot in front of her, she felt around for the batteries. her hand came upon something, smooth and cold, bony like a hand.
She screamed, falling back on her ass, nearly dropping the flashlight again. She scrambled for the batteries, slammed them into the flashlight and quickly turned it on, illuminating the spot in front of her.
Buford's bone.
She breathed a sigh of relief. And moved the beam around.
Her hands shook with fright as she slowly moved the beam of light around the room. The beam jumped in her hands, as it made it's slow journey around the room.
Just before it came to the dark spot she had been staring at moments before, the mass of shadows shifted to the left and disappeared. She heart pounding, she tried to follow but her light only fell upon the dark stairwell leading upstairs.
Thump...thump...thump. Walking up the stairs.
The noises were leading up the stairs. Away from her. She wanted to call her boyfriend but was afraid he'd call her chicken, "jumping at old house noises in a storm again?". She could almost hear him in her head.
Trying to will herself to call down, she took a few steps across the floor. A creaking noise came from above her head.
She shined the light on the ceiling above half expecting to see something through the walls. Nothing was there.
The sound came again. Thumping. Something was running across the room above. She tried to follow the noises, but her light stopped at the swinging chandelier hanging from the middle of the room.
Slowly she turned around, her eyes wide. She shown the light up the stairs ahead of her. It was the back staircase leading to the game room. There was no other way in or out of that room except by these stairs.
Lighting flashed. Thunder rolled as she took her first step. She pressed her body against the wall. Hugging her light to her chest, illuminating her face in a spooky way. She thought maybe she should turn the light off. But she decided against it. The light seemed to be a security for her.
She stopped at the top of the stairs, facing the back wall. The room laid out behind her. She was breathing fast, her heart pounding so loud it echoed in her ears. Slowly she turned, moving the light across the room with her. It's beam bounced across the various games and furniture. She was almost completely turned around. The light shone on the far side of the pool table.
Her breathing increased, rushing in and out of her lungs. Her heart pounded even louder she was so sure that anyone else could hear it as well. her mind screamed at her suddenly.
*RUN!*
The beam bounced across the pool table.
Movement.
A form.
A shape leaped out at her.
A crack.
Pain.
Lighting flashed.
She suddenly saw red.
She whipped a hand across her face. Blood.
Her fingers shook as she shown the light down on them.
Movement. Her eyes moved slowly upward. Something was there.
Someone.
Total blackness.
Favorites
Digg
Del.icio.us
Facebook
Furl
Magnolia
StumbleUpon
Google
Yahoo MyWeb
