Close Your Eyes: A Horror Story Collection Page 12

  She was only a few steps into the parking lot when she saw Mr. Jeske, or what she thought was Mr. Jeske. He was lying on the pavement on his side. Next to him was his old pickup. The keys were a few feet away from him sitting by themselves in the parking lot. He was wearing his FedEx uniform and it looked like he had been in the process of getting into his truck to go to work. As she got closer she knew that it was Mr. Jeske. It was him, but it wasn’t him. His skin color was all but gone. It was replaced by a darkish color that looked like a mixture of black and blue like a nasty bruise. He was writhing back in forth on the pavement on his side. His knees were pulled up and into his chest, his arms moved frantically as if trying to grab onto something, and his mouth hung open in a silent scream. Some kind pus was dribbling out of his mouth.

  Amanda froze in fear. The burning man from her dreams came back to her. But somehow, this was worse. This was so much worse. This could happen to her. This could happen to Tony. She edged closer to Jeske trying to get a better look at him. Trying to see if there was anything she could do to help him. As she got closer to him she heard the buzzing sound grow louder and louder all around her. She stared at Jeske and as she did she noticed strange wounds all around his arms and neck. A second later there was movement underneath his wounds, underneath his skin.

  It felt like everything was in slow motion. Amanda stood there paralyzed with fear as she watched the lumps all around Jeske began to crawl and resurface out from the wounds that they had burrowed. Within a few seconds the first bug emerged from the holes and began to stretch it’s wings. At that same time Jeske saw Amanda standing over him. He outstretched his arms towards her. He tried asking for help, he tried calling to her, but instead the only thing came out was a guttural moan.

  Amanda screamed in surprise and jumped backwards. Without a second to lose she raced towards her car with newfound haste. As she ran she fumbled to hit the buttons on the fob to open and start the car. The friendly sound of her car’s engine starting greeted her. She was closer now. Every second she got closer. Her black Fusion was sitting there waiting for her. It was their salvation. It was their sanctuary from this hell that had become her home.

  The buzzing surrounded her as she ran. It was almost like a fog that she couldn't escape. No matter how hard she ran it was always there. She thought about looking back at Jeske. She thought about looking back to see if these insects were following behind her, to see if they were gaining on her. But she didn’t. She pushed forward and faster towards her car.

  Before she knew it, she had reached it. WIthout a moment’s hesitation she yanked the door open. Car seats were the last thing from her mind as she practically threw Tony into the open car door. He hit the driver’s seat with a bounce, and rolled into the passenger seat at a strange angle. His crying was furious now, mostly from seeing Mr. Jeske. His cheeks were red, tears were rolling down his face, and snot had gone everywhere… but he was safe.

  Amanda dove into the car after him and closed the door as fast as she could. The buzzing was constant now but she did notice that when she closed the door and got safely into her car that the noise had lessened. It was still there but it had lessened. She glanced over at Tony to see if he was ok. He had repositioned himself mostly and was now sitting in the passenger seat looking out the window at Mr. Jeske laying in the parking lot.

  Amanda put the car into drive and hit the gas as fast as she could. As she began to drive out and away from the apartment complex a few of the bugs hit the windshield. They didn’t explode on impact like other bugs but instead just sat there on the windshield staring into the cabin of the car, staring at them. Amanda screamed again. She hit the wiper fluid button on the car and watched as the fluid doused the windshield and the bugs in the chemical. The bugs buzzing increased substantially almost into a roar. She chuckled out loud to herself and then hit the windshield wipers.

  After only a minute of driving Amanda had left the apartment complex and had begun heading north looking to merge onto I-95. If she got on there she would be home free. She just had to keep going north on the interstate. She had to away from this place. Every so often as she drove she would get sensation of something crawling up her arm, or worse something crawling up her cheek. The buzzing was still there, although smaller, and each time she checked herself there was never any sign of anything. She wasn’t sure if it was her mind playing tricks on her or if there really was something in the car with her.

  She thought about Frank working downtown. Was he safe where he was? Did he know what was going on? She instinctively reached in her pocket for her cellphone in an attempt to call him. Her hands reached but nothing… then she remembered that her cell phone was still in Tony’s bedroom. She would have to find another way to reach him.

  As she drove towards I-95 she saw more and more victims lying on the sidewalks, grass, and even on the streets. They were all black and blue. Most of them were unmoving but there were still some writhing and screaming in pain. She tried to block them out but her eyes were drawn to them like a car accident on a busy highway. A few times she had to drive into the other lane to avoid the bodies that lay on her side of the street.

  Before she knew it they were on the interstate. The buzzing had all but gone. Each mile that she drove north the sound lessened and lessened. She was ten minutes on the highway before she realized that the sounds were gone. The screaming was gone. The buzzing was gone. It was all gone. She glanced over at Tony in the passenger seat. Somehow he had fallen asleep. She smiled to herself and drove on.

  The End

  Stung Author’s Note

  This story came to me the other day when I had my four year old and two year old daughters with me. We were over at my parent’s house playing around outside. My mother had been telling the girls that her neighbor had just gotten some baby ducks.

  Without any question both girls agreed to head over to the neighbor’s house to see the baby animals. We got there in a few minutes and saw the chicks with no incidents. It was as we were leaving that they spotted old playground equipment centered in the neighbor’s yard. They asked if they could play on it and my wife and I both agreed that it was fine.

  Ok, now that I’ve bored you with the backstory here is where the story idea came from. My four year old had climbed up onto the playground and gone down the slides three or four times in a matter of minutes. My youngest daughter, the two year, watched all of this with amazement. She wanted to be like her big sister.

  After I gave her some encouragement I helped up into the playhouse. She stood there for a moment on the wooden platform just looking around. She had a big old smile on her face. It was then at this moment that a hornet, wasp, or some other kind of stinging creature came out of nowhere and stung my two year old right on the wrist. It happened so fast that I didn’t even see the bug. I believe my wife saw it but she wasn’t able to reach her in time.

  Now, bee stings aren’t really a big deal. Sure, they hurt but after only about ten minutes my daughter was acting mostly normal again. She cradled her wrist slightly but besides that she up and about playing like nothing had happened.

  It made me wonder what would the world be like if there were insects like wasps and hornets but with a sting that actually did kill. What kind of rules would we have? How would things be different? This thought trail lead to the story that you just read. I hope you enjoyed it!

  Thanks for reading,

  Alec John Johnson

  My New Family

  By Alec John Johnson

  Chapter 1

  I don't know when it started. I caught myself glancing as I walked through my house, but never paid much attention to it. Then, one day, I noticed that I hadn't moved in a few minutes and I was just staring at the house across the street. I could see in their windows. I could see the family having dinner. I could see the wife's smile, their tan walls, their two boys running around the table... I could see their family. The more I stared the more I enjoyed observing them. I was like a fly, or a bird; no
one was noticing me as I noticed them.

  I felt ashamed. ' I'm violating their privacy.' I would tell myself. 'It's not my place to watch these people.' The shame seemed to work at first, but it was only temporary. My willpower eventually depleted and soon enough I found myself watching them as much, if not more than, before. The desire was just too strong. I would go a little slower down their road on the way to my house. Or, perhaps I would go for a walk around the block and casually pass by their house.

  All of these instances paled into comparison to dinner time, though. At dinner time I could see the whole family functioning as one. All together. All happy. Dinner time was when you could really see the family and the relationships between each member; the hardworking husband, the homemaker wife/mother, and the two young boys enjoying childhood. It was the perfect family. It was my family from afar.

  It was early December so the days were short, and night came early. But I wasn't complaining. The extra darkness at five o'clock allowed me to watch them closer and longer. It became routine. They had dinner at six every evening and every evening I would begin my ritual at five forty-five. I had to start early as I didn't want to miss anything.

  First, I had to put on a pot of coffee. Second, I turn out the lights in my kitchen. Obviously, I didn't want them to see me staring, and with the lights off the extra darkness made me practically invisible. The trick is not to turn out all the lights. You have to make it look like someone is home. I usually leave the living room on or one of the bedroom lights on giving the illusion that my house had life.

  Once the lights in the kitchen were out, I'd pull one of my kitchen chairs in front of the glass patio door and get my cup of coffee ready. The patio door was on the back of my house and was elevated so that it looked exactly across to their house. I could see the windows to their living room, their dining room, their kitchen, and even their basement. Once their kids were done with dinner I could follow them to their living room, or to their basement where they would play. I could follow the husband back to the living room, or watch the wife clean up after dinner. It was like my own little television show made just for me.

  Before it could begin I had to make my coffee just right. Unlike most people, coffee calms me instead of riling me up. A cup of coffee, if done correctly, can really put the body and mind at ease. I can't stand my coffee black. It tastes like I'm drinking coal. It has to have the right amount of creamer to add the flavor and then some whole milk added in there to cool it off. I usually pick a hazelnut flavor or, at this time of year, the cinnamon cane creamer is fantastic. Sipping my coffee as the show goes on makes it that much more enjoyable, especially on these cold winter nights.

  Once I have everything ready I sit back in my chair and enjoy. The wife is making dinner. She isn’t knockout gorgeous, but her red hair and plentiful breasts aren't bad to look at. It looks like they are having spaghetti with garlic bread tonight. One of my favorites! The kids and the dad are all in the living room watching local news. It looks like there is a snow storm heading in on Wednesday. I hate driving in the snow. Hopefully my car can make it through another winter. Last time one of these storms hit I ended up in the ditch halfway to work.

  Like clockwork, the Wife announces dinner is ready at five fifty-eight. The whole family slowly gathers around the table and begins to eat. No prayers before dinner. They don't seem to be a very religious family. As they enjoy their dinner I sip my coffee in the quiet darkness.

  Chapter 2

  I wouldn't say that I've ever been normal, but I wasn't always like this. I wasn't always watching. I think that's what I'll call it, watching. I had always been a quiet person and kept to myself, but to most I still seemed well adjusted, and probably normal.

  I was, and am, gainfully employed as an information technology project manager. Basically, I take lead on new projects for my company and ensure that they get completed within the allotted time. For example, some projects are given thirty to forty hours of programming time. It is my job to ensure that the program gets completed as customers wanted, that we do not go over time with our programmers, and that the program works. It sounds complicated but it really isn't. In fact, it's rather mundane, but I like it.

  The absolute best part of my job is the complete lack of human interaction. Sure, I have to interact with programmers or occasionally quality assurance personnel. But, have you talked to a programmer before? They're more afraid of you then you are of them. They hate talking as much as I do. If you make the mistake of calling one of them and they answer the phone you can actually hear the contempt in their voice on the other end of the line. Most of our communication is done through e-mail and it's great. If I could choose a 'dream' job this would be it. I've been with this company for over a decade now and have become extremely comfortable with my job. It was almost second nature now.

  Rewind about six months ago and I had a great life. No, really I did. I was married, and had been so for nearly seven years. I met her by chance, if it had been another day or time I may have never seen her, let alone start a conversation with her. I was talked into going to an afterhours company get together. One of those events where everyone drinks in excess and does something that they'll be talking about for weeks until the next one. I always decline these types of things. I don't fit in, and usually just people watch from the corner. I'm not sure if I was feeling guilty about never going or what, but on this specific occasion I went. It was the best, and worst, decision of my life.

  The event was at a downtown restaurant/bar. I arrived and mingled with some co-workers from my department but after a while grew bored of the whole thing. I always hated small talk and was starting to regret having come. I withdrew from the group and isolated myself at the bar. I sat there alone drinking my jack and coke and just staring off into the crowd looking, but seeing nothing.

  That is when I saw her. Or, she saw me. Well, I'm not sure who saw who first, but we locked eyes. To this day I still can't explain it. Usually when someone looks at me I glance away to avoid their gaze. The shear locking of eyes makes me feel uncomfortable to say the least, but she... she was different. There was just something there. I stood up, as did she, and we walked towards each other. We talked for a few minutes, and then I offered to buy her a drink and we took a seat at one of the empty booths close to the bar.

  I am a very quiet person and don't often participate in lengthy conversations but it seemed like the two of us talked for hours. She was a nursing student at the local college just a couple blocks east of downtown. She had come to the bar after a long week of finals (It was around Christmas time.) and was looking to unwind. More time passed and we kept talking. We were entranced with each other and I couldn't explain why. After the night was over we exchanged information and soon we were on our first date. I never had much experience with women. I was awkward to say the least. I didn't know what to do. I didn't know how to behave. But she didn't mind. She found it endearing.

  Things went swimmingly. There was our first date, then a second, a third, and many many more. Of the many things that clicked between us was our love of family and our need for a family. She wanted the whole shebang; the white picket fence, the loving wife, the hard working husband, and of course the children. She wasn't just dating for the hell of it. She wasn't interested in a causal relation. She had an end term goal in mind, and so did I.

  After years of dating we decided together to get married. I was terrified of springing a proposal on her and in fact I think I waited too long. She finally brought it up and I proposed sheepishly a month later. It was nothing elaborate or anything cheesy like you see in the movies. We had just finished dinner at my place and were about to start another one of our movie nights. I went into the kitchen under the ruse to get some wine before the movie started and came back with wine and a little something extra in my pocket. It wasn't much of a surprise but she seemed happy. I had always wanted a family of my own but before her I felt it was forever out of my reach. I felt that my lack of interacti
ons, lack of charm, and lack of experience would never allow me to meet the 'one.'

  We had a small wedding, just us. Just the way I liked it. No intruders, no interlopers, no having to worry about other's opinions. There was no having to be fake. She moved into my place and we began our life together. Like any younger married couple we didn't have much but we had each other. She graduated nursing school a year before our wedding and had begun working as an emergency room nurse at one of the local hospitals. She took all of the extra shifts she could and I put in as much effort as I could into work over the next few years. We had one goal in mind. Save for the house of our dreams and to begin our family.

  Twenty percent down is a big number, especially for first time home buyers. I mean, think about it. If you're planning to purchase a two-hundred thousand dollar house you need forty-thousand dollars for just a down payment! Not to mention that you have to factor in homeowner's insurance, taxes, and home repairs. No wonder so many people rent. It sure would make things easier, but we didn't care. We wanted our house and we wanted our family. A rented property just wouldn't feel the same. We were looking for a house that we could raise the children in, grow old in, and die in. We needed the perfect house.

  Eventually, we had enough money saved up between the two of us that we began looking at houses. We looked at a few with intention of taking our time on making a decision. The first few that we looked at were rather mundane. There was nothing wrong with them, but we just didn't get that feeling that this was our house. About a week into our search our realtor scheduled a tour for a standard three bedroom and two bath house but she had assured us that the neighborhood for this house was perfect for young families. There was a community playground, walking trails, a fishing lake, and even somewhat of a forest that isolated the neighborhood from the rest of the city noise.