Dead of The Night

Reads: 152  | Likes: 0  | Shelves: 0  | Comments: 0

More Details
Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic
Jake comes home after what seems to be a normal day of school to find his older brother and younger sister missing while his mother is working. At first there seems to be logical reasoning for their absence, but Jake soon finds out that there is something terribly wrong.

Submitted: August 09, 2012

A A A | A A A

Submitted: August 09, 2012

A A A

A A A


 

In what seemed to be the dead of the night, Jake headed home after a long, stressful, and hectic day at school.  It was a little past 6:00 pm in the wet, windy, glumness of late October.  Volleyball practice ended only a couple minutes earlier and even though Jake’s body ached from the constant suicides and aiming drills he mustered up enough energy to bolt home in under 10 minutes (the walk usually took 20 minutes).
 
Jake’s body had cooled down considerably from sweating profusely during practice which made the chill of Autumn that much more pertinent.  Summer’s end made itself evident in the damp, colourful leaves that scattered all around the city.  Jake’s eagerness to get home plainly ignored any of these subtleties.  I just wanna get home already!  I’m friggin’ cold, exhausted, and I wanna eat ahhh!
 
Despite his excitement and anticipation to get home Jake happened to notice that there were fewer cars and people on the streets than usual.  That’s weird.  It’s downtown and it’s rush hour, traffic is always bad here.  It’s not even a holiday… Jake did not seem to pay much attention to the apparent oddity after that.
 
Home sweet home!
 
Making a scurried dash for the soft, leathery lazy boy in the living room, Jake leaned back into the recliner and let out an exasperated sigh of relief and comfort.
 
Times had been tough for the Brimstones.  Peggy, Jake’s mother, was determined to fight through it however.  Since the economic depression, Peggy’s brokerage firm went under because people could not afford to invest their limited cash flow.  Being an only parent, Peggy was forced to look for odd, low-paying jobs that she was over-qualified for because of the dire need her unemployment had put her and her family in.  This meant that Jake, his older brother Chester, and his younger sister Olivia were left alone at home for majority of the week as their mother worked evening and night shifts to scrape by.  Being the young, care-free, and oblivious children that they were, they felt no repercussions from this.
Except for when it came to food.
 
God there’s never anything to eat in this stupid house.  All we ever have is TV dinners.  Yuck!  Worse than bland, stale airplane food!  *sigh*
Where’s Chet and Liv?
 
With the monotone hum of the microwave heating up Jake’s TV dinner and the recent NBA championship highlights on TV, not much else could be heard.
 
*THUMP*
 
What the hell was that?  It sounded like a loud thump. Ehn, no probably just hearing things.  Scared the living bajeebus out of me though, just gonna turn the TV down a little.
 
By the time Jake finished dinner he was disinterested and inattentive to the repetitive highlight reels showcasing the recent NBA champions.
 
It was 7:45 pm by then and Jake had enough time spent by himself.  The time of day had finally arrived for Jake to inject his daily dose of incessant nagging, whining, bickering, pestering, and provoking towards his siblings.  It usually came down to annoying Chet or bullying Liv to no end; on days where the planets aligned oh so perfectly and the universe decided to play on Jake’s team, both deeds were accomplished simultaneously.  This was a  prized hobby that he prided himself on.
 
As Jake climbed up and down stairs, opened and closed doors, searched from room to room he discovered to his surprise and selfish dismay that no one was home.  This was quite uncommon.  Unless Chet had a group project to work on he always came home right after school, and Liv was only in third grade.  She had about as much of a social life as a ninety-four year old widow.  Hmm, that’s weird.
 
It would not have been strange in any account if it had not been for the fact that it was almost 8:00 pm.  It was pitch black, windy, and chilly outside.  The eerie sounds of rustling tree branches, crunching leaves, and whistling wind sent unsuspected, and unnoticed chills down Jake’s spine.  School ends at 3 so it’s been 5 hours now.  Did dad come by to visit?  Maybe Chet took Liv out for food.  Man, I want food!
 
Just then there was an abrupt, brash noise.
 
*SLAM*
 
WOAH! Was that the front door?  It’s gotta be that or the basement door.  Jake froze, stunned and unaware of what had just happened.  He stood dumbfounded in the corridor upstairs that conjoins the bedrooms to one common area, he was slightly frightened but more confused than anything else.  *sigh* I should check to see what that was.  It’s nothing.  It’s gotta be nothing.  It’s windy outside! A window must’ve been left open which slammed the door shut, it happens all the time!  Of course.  That’s all it is.
 
Manoeuvring around tables, kicking chairs out of the way, hurdling over couches, intently gawking for shadows Jake quickly noticed none of the windows in the house were left opened.  He tried to stay calm but fear had begun to encompass his body as fast just as flies bombard a carcass, forcing him to tremble in a shivering cloud of raw emotion.  Why’s it so cold all of a sudden?  Oh god it’s all in my head.  What’s in my head?  Nothing!  Nothing’s in my head because nothing’s happening right now!  Keep it together Jake!
 
Confused and terrified Jake quickly ran around the house making sure all the windows and doors were locked.  Best case scenario, if there was someone outside it would be difficult to get in.  Worst case scenario, they already made their way in and they would not get out now.
 
Mindlessly, Jake sped upstairs, turning on every single light in the house on his way up.  Furiously, he changed into a soft, cotton hoody and a pair of sweatpants to keep him warm.  At this point Jake was beginning to experience cold sweats.  Since he was already in his room he decided to pull out an old iron golf club that his dad had given to him for his birthday as a kid.  Jake was never into golf, he found it just as boring to play as it was to watch, but his father loved the “sport” and was persistent to get Jake interested, to no avail.
 
Not fully comprehending the situation Jake was sure that he would have to defend himself, without a doubt.  The question stood whether he would look for whoever or whatever was in or around the house, or let them come find him.  Fuck this shit!  There’s no way in hell I’m letting some piece of shit get me.  In the cautionary case of protection, which Jake was adamant in believing he needed, he put on some hockey goalie equipment under his clothes; shin and chest guards, and of course a helmet.  God knows what the hell is going on right now, I gotta be ready for anything.  I can’t make any noise, even with all this crap on.  Hmmm..
 
Just as Jake had finished suiting up he heard an abrasive
 
*THUMP*
 
followed by suspiciously light but energetic footsteps full of craze and purpose.  OK now I’m scared.  This guy can’t be serious, he doesn’t know he’s messing with me.  I swear to god he’s going to regret this.
 
He was positively confident he heard a thump the second time.  It had the same tone and depth of sound as the one he thought he had heard earlier in the kitchen, but this seemed so much louder.  Jake felt his ears ringing.
 
Jake heard more swift shuffles that seemed to be coming from all over the house.  That sounded like it came from the basement.  Ah man I don’t wanna go to the basement.  Where’s Chet when you need him?  He’s the tough guy in the family, he would have no problem terrorizing some punk burglar.  Shit!
 
 
Hesitantly, while blood pressure was rising, and needing a few minutes to ponder his actions, Jake decided to first call 911.  He could tell them he was afraid of an intruder in the house and figured they would advise him to go hide somewhere thus saving him from exploring the house for whatever might be waiting for him.  That’s perfect!  The cops will hear the friggin fear in my voice and have to act quickly.  Alright, just gotta get to mom’s room.  Gingerly, while staying alert, Jake quietly made his way to his mother’s bedroom where the old, dusty, black, cordless phone from Wal-Mart was perched up on the nightstand next to the side of the bed where his mother lay her head to sleep every night.  Hands shaking, Jake picked up the phone form the receiver, pressed the talk button in order to dial the number he wanted to call.  Before he could put his thumb down to punch 9-1-1 and lift the phone to his ear Jake noticed the dial tone was not ringing.  The phone’s dead.  Not anticipating for this he let out a long, unsatisfied groan and then quickly covered his mouth realizing right away the mistake he made.
 
*THUMP THUMP*
 
It seemed even louder this time.  Jake worried someone heard him, whoever that someone might be.  Sheer panic flushed his bewildered mind and he began frantically hyper-ventilating in a way he never experienced before.  I can’t breathe!  Oh my god!  It feels like there’s a fucking stone in my chest I’m going to die! *gasp gasp*
 
Jake had little time to react as he instantly heard the most gruesome sound he could have ever imagined.  Coming from downstairs was the most shrill, blood curdling shriek he had ever heard.  “HELP!  SOMEONE!  PLEASE HELP! AHHHHH! *gurgle gurgle*.  Immediately Jake knew.  Liv!  Without thinking twice Jake ran downstairs yelling out for his baby sister, “LIV! LIV! WHERE ARE YOU LIV! ARE YOU ALRIGHT?”, but no response.
 
Tears came streaming down his face at the horror that fell before  him.  Sprawled out in the middle of the living room, carpet blood-drenched, hair and clothes soaked and wreaking from the stench of perspiration and blood, she lay there, throat slit, blood still oozing out of its fresh wound, eyes staring at Jake, motionless.  She’s..Sh-Sh-She’s.. Covered in blotches of black and blue marks from head-to-toe Jake clutched his baby sister in his arms and sobbed.  For whatever reason he felt he was at fault.  As her older brother he was supposed to protect her, and he failed her, failed himself.  “Livvy! I’m sorry! Ah god damn it I’m so sorry Livvy!  What happened!  What did he do to you! LIVVY!!!”, he murmured in a low, almost inaudible whisper.
 
Jake’s mourning was cut short as the power in the house went off.  Huh? *sniff*  Filled with fiery rage and contempt Jake had a vendetta, and someone was now marked for death.
 
Slyly, he made his way downstairs to the basement to check the breakers in fuse box.  They were off.  He’s still in the house.  Bastard!  Jake reached for the fuse box to turn the breaker on, nothing.  Urgh!  He turned it off from the outside!  Hurrying back upstairs, not knowing what to do next or where to go, Jake went back into the living room.  Liv’s body gone.  He’s playing with me, that bastard’s playing tricks with me!  His fury gradually intensified until..
 
*THUMP THUMP THUMP*
 
Only this time it came from right next to the living room, in the kitchen.
 
*THUMP THUMP THUMP*
 
Falling to his knees in despair and terror, almost ready to give up, he retrieved his malice and knelt down, staying still from shock.  Fearing the end nearing him Jake viciously propped up to his feet, iron golf club still in hand, and ran back upstairs into his room and sat on his bed, waiting.  I don’t know what this fucker’s up to but he’s just trying to trap me.  Hah, not falling for that.  He can come find me.  I’ll be ready.
 
Still shaking from gut wrenching fear, Jake did not have any better ideas.  In his state he felt it better to stay and wait.  The golf club gave him good reach so if the killer had a knife he would have to get within close proximity to do any real damage.  The swing of the golf club gave Jake more than twenty inches of additional reach.  He felt good about his chances.
(In the back of his mind he knew none of this was true.  Thinking of the brutal horror in having a stranger in the same house, beneath the same roof, murdering his own sister under his very footsteps gave him a crippling fear. Picturing the grotesque image of his maimed baby sister invoked a surge of adrenaline that gave him a sense of false confidence.  He honestly knew that if the killer had some motive, he would achieve it.)
 
It was getting late, by now it was close to 11:00 pm.  Jake usually slept around 9:00 or 10:00 pm by his mother’s orders.  He knew better than to argue with her ever, about anything.
 
Heaviness began to set on his eyelids.  He tried forcing himself to stay awake as much as he could but not even pacing helped.  In his tiresome anxiety and disillusionment Jake laid down.  Slowly, surrendering to his weariness, Jake rested his golf club on his bed side.  I can still get him.  I’ll quickly jump up at the slightest sign of trouble, grab the club, and bash his head in life a fucking piñata. Yeah, hah.  There was an uneasy sense of emotional and mental instability in Jake. 
 
Jake felt at ease about his self-encouraging words, until rapidly his golf club miraculously disappeared.  Huh!  In what seemed to be magic, his club vanished into thin air.  Too afraid to get out of bed he hid under his covers but just as he started shuffling around a swift, strong hand smacked him from under the bed dead centre in the chest making him lose wind out of him.  Initially unaware, he started belching out cries for help, as if anyone would hear.  “HELP! HELP SOMEONE PLEASE! HELP I’M GOING TO DIE PLEASE! HELP! HE’S GOING TO KILL ME!”  Jake was on the, brink of insanity, from all the horror, and verge of crying out beads of blood from his eyes.  Kicking and screaming Jake tried freeing himself from the death grip clutching his ribs but the killer was far too strong.  The hand started dragging Jake under the bed.  In a fit of uncontrollable shock, terror, and anguish Jake urinated himself.  The killer realizing, began bellowing a deep, resonate, demonic chuckle full of accomplishment coming from underneath his bed.
 
Just before Jake was about to hit the ground and be taken under his bed the lights came back on.  Disoriented from the bright contrast of the lights from the darkness he had been in, the killer let go of his grip just as Liv sprinted into the room, stinking and bloody, as she laughed maniacally in unison with another voice.  The voice of the killer.
 
The killer got out from under Jake’s bed and Jake, scared out of his mind, was ready for his life to come to an end and hid under his covers not wanting to see the disgusting, ugly, monstrous face he imagined the killer having.  Just as he saw a shadow move quickly towards him, hands threw his covers off him.
 
Jake was quite disturbed and baffled at the sight of Liv rolling on the floor dying of laughter, hands clutching her abdomen, gasping for air.
 
With an insidious look Chet smiled menacingly with a snide, proud grimace.
“Gotcha!”


© Copyright 2017 Clive Fitzgerald. All rights reserved.

Booksie 2017-2018 Short Story Contest

Booksie Popular Content

Other Content by Clive Fitzgerald

Popular Tags