Written by: Frankie Escandon
Synopsis: The most weirdly, horrifying drabbles of short stories you will ever read. Genres: Psychological thriller, horror
Out of the blue
He can do anything he wants to her. No one is in his sight. He has her at the palm of his hands. He looked at her lifeless body and smiled. “Welcome home, sweetheart”. He said.
Her arms were spread out. She was fully clothed. He stared at her. Scanning her body with his eyes, he kneeled down, and gently touched her forehead as he took another look at the women in front of him. ‘She’s so beautiful.’ He thought to himself. He ran a hand through her brown hair that reached her lower back. He picked her up and threw her over his back. He put on a chair and tied her up with duct tape and rope. He put the rope around her legs and duct tape around her arms as tight as he could. He made his way to the camera and set it to “Record”. He slapped her a couple times. Finally waking her up. She gained consciousness. Looking up at him she felt terrified. “Hey, princess”. He said as he smirked. Her eyes were about to sting with tears. She started whimpering. “Why are you sad? I’m here. With you. You should be happy”. He stated.
Her voice went silent. “Am I not good enough for you? Is that it?”. He spat.
She glared at him sadly. “Answer me bitch!”. He gritted through his teeth. In a low voice she mustard ups a bit of courage. “Untie me”. She said in a low voice. “Sorry, princess. I can’t do that. You’ve been behaving badly lately. So…Consider this attention as an extra side of, let’s say, punishment”. She sniffed as she looked at the ground. “You have no idea. No idea what you did to me!”. He raised his voice.
“Sorry won’t help you now. Sorry doesn’t help anything”.
He pulls out a double barrel and points it at her.
“B…Obby don’t! I didn’t-I never ever meant to have that affair! It was mistake. Please, Bobby. Put the gun down and let’s talk”. She pleaded and begged. Smiled at him sadly. He grinned at her and shook his head. “You broke your vows, Kat! You….YOU HURT ME! You broke my fucking heart you fucking bitch!”. He screamed.
He loaded the gun and before he could pull the trigger, he says “Thanks for the crappy years”. Before he put a whole though her stomach she shot up, sweating, and panicking. Kat looked at her husband. He was dead asleep. Snoring lightly but presumed a heavy sleeper for sure. He got up and packed her things as much, and as quick as she could. She took off her ring and set it on the night stand. She leaves the house never to return, feeling the slight wind chill blow on her bruised face. She puts up the hood on her hoodie over her head. She puts on sun glasses and goes to her. She starts the car taking a last look at her used-to-be life. She sees Bobby starring out the window. He starts running. She closes the door and locks the car. She drives away and he begins to run after her, but fortunately for him. No luck.
‘Thank god! I’m free’. She thought to herself as she smiled. She gets a text message. ‘I know where you’re going, babe. Don’t try to run from me’. Her eyes got wide and her car steered, hitting a tree crashing hard. She was missing the next day. Never to be found.
“I love him”. She says. Her best friends look at her knowing it wasn’t the truth. “Claire, are you sure?”. Her sister Candace asks. “Positive”. Claire says. Claire knew she wasn’t all that positive when it came to her soon-to-be husband, Jason. Sure. He seemed like a great guy. A fun guy to be around. Easy to talk to. Pretty friendly. But that’s only on stage where he can out up a front from his own self. But backstage…he wasn’t close to a fraction of who he says he is. Jason wasn’t exactly a do-er kind of guy. More of a talker. He had gone to the marines but the farthest he got was going for a couple days then bailing out. He didn’t have much body muscle. So all he did was try out and cut potatoes as an assistant cook. Claire, she already has a good job. She works as a social services examiner. Benefits and all. But that’s beside the point. The awry days piled on for Jason and Claire. Job after job, jobs were coming and going like cars on a highway. It only created money trouble and stress.
“When are you going to step up and actually keep a job?!”. Claire yelled. That infuriated Jason. “Shut your mouth! You know? I need this, I’m going to go get drunk and have a smoke with my brother!”. Jason yelled.
Claire scuffed and folded her arms over her chest. Jason always hated that. “Yeah, you go do that! I don’t see how that’s helping me with the bills! Oh and we have a baby on the way, so…get your butt in gear!”. Clair shirked. As Jason walked away from Claire he stopped and paused for a minute. “We’re having a kid?”. He asks.
Claire nodded. “Yep”. She said popping the P.
“Shoot”. Said Jason disappointed.
Claire squinted her eyes at her husband. “Oh, nice”. She said with disgust. She walked away from him and slammed the bedroom door. Jason and his brother, Anthony never had a real father. Only a mom named Anna and she was (as a matter of fact still is) a basket case. Anthony was only younger than Jason by three years, but was always a druggie. And immature but mature in his own way. He too, had an odd number of jobs. Painting houses. Ditch digging. He tried rapping but never tried to be fluent enough to rap. Constructor worker. He only aimed to get his diploma a year after Jason, went and got his GED, dropping out of high school his sophomore junior year. Anthony repeated his junior year and sophomore year twice.
Claire called her mom that same night. “Mom. I don’t know what to do”. Claire’s mom exhaled softly. “What do you want to do?”.
“I want to leave”. Claire said desperately.
“Come live with me and your father, honey”.
“It’s not that simple as I’d wish it was”.
“Aw, congrats! How many months?”.
“I’m not sure yet. I have to go see a doctor”.
“I want to keep it, obviously. Just…not with Jason”.
“He’s being all…Jason like?”.
Claire’s mom never lived Jason. Nor did Claire’s dad. To make it even larger…NONE of Claire’s family liked Jason. The more she thought about it. The more she knew they were right. Around Claire’s older brothers; Jason always tried to act tough around Chris, Victor, and Jake. When Victor found out Jason shoved her…Victor drove to Jason’s new job as a mechanic and punched him. Everything about Jason spelled this word. T.R.O.U.B.L.E. Jason has always been lazy. His main priorities were sleeping .Video games. Spending money he only carried on his debit card. Jewelry. Video games. And Cd’s.
Anthony only cared about sleeping around and couldn’t keep a relationship longer than three months. He never had gotten his license and has been to jail for possession of more than 7 bags of Marijuana and driving without a license. He’s been pulled over for speeding.
“Sweetie, I’ll set up a room for you. Come home. I get so nervous when I hear these things about your husband”.
“I’m going to start-Hello?”. Claire says.
“Claire? Where are you?”. Jason asks. “I-in here”. She says.
He grabs a knife and goes to the bedroom.
Claire’s eyes were in shock. She saw the knife in his hands. “M-mom?”.
“Honey. Are you okay?”.
Jason motioned for Claire to walk to him. She paces herself steadily as she stands in front of him. He stabs her in the stomach then in the heart.
“Claire? Claire?! What’s going on? Hello? Hello? Cl-“ Jason hung up the phone and threw it on the bed. He drops the knife and picks up Claire, putting her beside the phone. He picks up the phone and dials three numbers.
Operator: 9-1-1, what’s your emergency?.
“Hello. I want to report a murder”.
Operator: How many people are in the house?”.
“And what’s the address?”.
“27 Lanemore street. 17th avenue. Tell the cops to get here as quick as possible. And also tell them…That I killed my wife”. He hung up and took out a pad from the draw as well as a peen too. He begins to write.
You deserve so much better than me. I know you went to get a protective order against me. I know you want a divorce, but baby, I refuse to let you leave me, because you’re also leaving with my kid. I got lucky with you. I like you. A lot. I love you more than I love myself. I always have. And I always will. Good-bye Claire.
Jason cut his own throat. The police ruled it as a homicide and suicide. No case has been opened.
It’s a Saturday night. You drove home from the movies with your girlfriend. You both had a nice dinner at a nice restaurant. Returning home, you see the living room light on. Your parent’s cars out front. You both look at each other and shrug as you enter the house. “Mom? Dad? You here?”. You exclaim.
Your girlfriend looks around the house. “I don’t see anybody”. She says.
“Hmm. That’s weird”. You said.
“What is?”. She asks.
“A voice mail”. You press the button and two voices replay the same thing in unison repeatedly.
“Hey, son, just want to let you know we’re dead”.
“what the hell? Hey…Maria, we need to get of here. Fast. Okay? Something is….” You stop in mid-sentence to Maria with her back turned. You lightly touch her shoulder as she turns and smiles. The lights flicker on and off.
“Why do we need to leave? Let’s stay. Better yet, sing with me and your parents”. She sings with them as you back up against the wall. “NO! NO! Make it stop!”. You scream as you cover your ears. Before you can run the TV turns on. It shows small video clips of you and your girl-friend. You guys cuddling and watching a movie. You guys going for a walk. And you guys having sex. You start to panic and become anxious. “Let me go! Get me out of this fucking house!”. You shout. By the time you open the door everything turns black.
Time flies. One minute you’re growing. The next minute you’re an adult. And the next your body is declining. You’re reaching for your last bit of life. No family. No wife. No boyfriend. You’re just alone. And your last thought: Is all your regrets.
Everyone has monsters. Everyone has fears. Insecurities. Do you remember when you were a kid? When you thought there was a monster in your closet. Or under your bed. You used to hide under your blanket or grab one of your parents to inspect. You may think that monster is gone for life. But it’s not. It’s always followed you. Don’t walk alone in the dark. And whatever you do…Don’t shut off any lights. Because; little by little….you will bring me into reality. You will bring that monster to play. I hope you see that in the mirror you look in, is your own monster. What’s its name?.
Life can’t be a rewind. You can’t fast forward. All you can do is press play and watch your own movie. But if you paused it for a second, you can see something you’ve been saw before. You. Hanging from a rope. Enjoy the struggle.
She doesn’t love you
Every time you tell her you love her she becomes frozen. All the energy and time you’ve invested into that bitch and she doesn’t care. She only cares when she hurts you. Makes you cry. Beats you. Breaks your body, and crushes your bones. She’s cold. And the only way love will warm up her heart, is if she fucking kills you. What if you kill her first…Snap your emotions like the way you want to snap that bitches neck. Double standard, right? She can put her hands on you and cry like a fucking baby. Play the victim. But if you do it…You’re guilty. She is innocent. So you just take what she gives you. And when you’ve enough…You blow her knee caps off and put one through her throat. You’re free. Free From what she put you through.
On a Friday night you were on skype chatting with your girlfriend. You two were flirting. Slowly stripping down, almost half naked. Before you take off your bra—you get a message.
“Babe. Hold on”. She pouts, “Noooo! What is it?”. She asked.
You opened up the message seeing, somebody’s body all cut up and bloody. “What the hell?!”. You yelled.
“What’s going on? What’s wrong?”. She asked worriedly.
The person typed a message. ‘If you don’t take a picture and repost this now…I will kill someone you love. You have five minutes’.
You laughed it off and ignored the message.
“Okay. I’m back”. You said.
“What was that?”. She asked.
“Some idiot being a moron”. You said.
She shrugged. She took off bra and worked on taking off her panties. Someone comes from behind, and takes a hammer to the back of her head and the back of her neck.
“OH MY GOD!!! What the fuck!!!!! What the fuck!”. You screamed out of terror.
The figure stares back at you as you stared back scared.
It typed….’I told you’.
“What do you want from me?”. You asked nervously.
It took off it’s mask and typed, ‘You never loved me. You never gave a shit about me. So for you…I want you to die’.