Close Your Eyes: A Horror Story Collection Read online

  “Mind telling me why I found this?” Brockford’s voice was neutral but Allen had heard enough him yell enough times and knew that it could come at any moment. What would happen now? Would he lose his job? Would they threaten him? What would he say? His mind raced back to his days at retail. Would he have to go back? Allen sat there in silence not knowing what to say.

  “Well?”

  “I was just seeing what was out there… sir.”

  “Look me in the eyes GOD DAMN IT.” As he said this Brockford leaned forward and raised his left hand that was clenched into a fist and slammed it down into the desk. The sound of things inside the desk rattling from the impact filled the room. His voice and demeanor had changed almost instantaneously. Allen raised his eyes away from the resume and stared into Brockford’s. They looked empty.

  “I thought we were a family Allen. I thought that we agreed with each other that you wanted to join this family. That you wanted to become a part of our family?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “And what did we decide was the most important part of being in a family?” He sounded like a father talking down to a child who had done something wrong.

  “Loyalty, sir.”

  “Exactly. And just like any child that has misbehaved you will have to be punished.”

  “Punished?” Allen’s heart began racing again. Punished? Allen prepared himself for the worst. Brockford would fire him and he would be escorted out. He would have to say goodbye to his new apartment, to his new car, and worst of all he would have to move back in with his parents after only a year out on his own. He would be a failure in his eyes as well as his father's.

  While all that sounded awful there was another voice surfacing in the corners of his mind that said that wasn’t the worst. It wasn’t the worst by far. What had happened to Rich’s leg? Where was the sledgehammer? The blood that he saw on the sledgehammer during his first interview jumped to the front of his mind.

  Brockford stood up from his chair and as he did the chair rose noticeably a few inches. Upon standing he reached down under his desk and grabbed something. A second later the sledgehammer came into view.

  “Hold out your wrist Allen. The sooner we get this done, the sooner you can go home.”

  Allen’s eyes grew wide and he stood up so fast that he lost his balance. “Wh- what?” He managed to sputter as he started to fall backwards out of his chair. He scrambled to get up as Brockford walked around his desk towards him with the sledge hammer over one shoulder.

  “This’ll be much easier if you don’t fight.” Brockford’s face was completely flushed red now. He looked almost cartoonish. A stream of sweat rolled down his face like a teardrop.

  Allen was finally able to stand back up. He turned around as fast as he could and started to run towards the door. Just before he got to the door someone else opened it from the outside. Allen screamed for help as the door opened hoping that whoever they were would help, hoping that they would get him the hell out of here. When the door opened all of the way it revealed Eric Carson, one of the men he interviewed with. (The one with the limp.) Right behind Eric was another larger man that Allen hadn’t seen before. He must had been at least four to five inches taller than Allen and looked to outweigh him by seventy pounds. He wore a white Brockford Construction polo shirt that looked dirty with sweat and grime. There was the sickening smell of body odor that trailed behind him. The two men stepped into the room not saying anything and as they did they blocked Allen’s escape.

  Frantic, Allen looked around the room for any other avenue of escape. There was only one other door in the entire office and it was the bathroom. He thought about running into the open bathroom and slamming the door behind him. But, what good would it do? He’d be stuck in there and they could just wait outside for him to give up. The windows were there but he was three stories in the air. There was nowhere to go. He was trapped.

  The larger man stepped towards Allen and grabbed his lapel with his right hand. The grip felt like a vice. No matter what Allen tried the man held onto him. He was pushing and controlling Allen back to the desk, back to Brockford’s desk. Brockford led the way and Allen watched helplessly as he was forced to follow. He didn’t see Eric close the office door behind him but he heard the squeak and the eventual click of it being closed. Allen tried screaming for help again, but he knew it was hopeless. Everyone here was on one team, and one team only.

  “SIT DOWN,” Brockford screamed at him. The folds in his neck jiggled back and forth. Allen mindlessly obeyed and sat down in the chair he was in just a few minutes ago.

  “You have to think of this as a punishment. Some families do spankings, but personally, I find this far more effective. Now, tell me are you a left handed or right?”

  Allen’s voice was a mere whisper when he answered, “Left.”

  “Good. Stretch out your right arm,” as Brockford said this he grabbed Allen’s right wrist and pulled it towards his desk. The wood felt cold against his arm. Allen watched in horror as Brockford raised the sledgehammer effortlessly above his head. Then, in one fluid motion he saw it coming at him. Brockford moved with amazing quickness for someone his size. At the last second Allen closed his eyes.

  “You don’t leave our family.”

  Chapter 6 - Aftermath

  A few minutes afterwards Allen was on the floor in a near fetal position cradling his right arm just above the wrist. The pain was a constant pulsing sensation that radiated out from his wrist and moved downwards and upwards through his arm and fingers. Immediately after the impact Allen fell forward out of the chair and onto the ground and began screaming in agony. After only a few seconds of screaming Brockford looked down at him from above and commanded that he stop.

  As Allen sat there on the floor of Brockford’s office Mr. Brockford, Eric, and the unknown man stood next to him talking like nothing had happened. They were talking about next year’s business plan. They were talking about year over year forecasts. They were even discussing draft picks for the upcoming season. Allen felt like he was in a nightmare.

  After an unknown amount of time Eric left the room and then it was just Brockford, Allen, and the unknown man. Brockford walked over to Allen and crouched down so that he was only a few inches away from his face.

  “I do NOT want to hear or see any more of you ‘just looking around.’ Is that understood?”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Good. Because, if I do… next time won’t be so friendly.” He let his last words hang in the air for a while before continuing, “Hector here will take you to the hospital. Don’t worry about the bill; we’ll pay for it under workmen’s compensation. I expect to see you here first thing tomorrow morning.”

  “Yes sir.”

  With that Brockford reached a hand out to Allen signaling that he wanted to help him up. Unsure of what else to do Allen met his hand and before he knew it he was being pulled back up to a standing position. With no more words between them Allen followed Hector out of Brockford’s office.

  --

  The drive to the hospital was done in absolute silence. They rode in a small white pickup truck that had a long bench seat. On the outside of the pickup stenciled on each door were the words Brockford Construction. Hector drove while Allen rode along in the passenger seat resting his injured wrist across his lap. His left hand was absent mindedly prodding and feeling his right wrist as they drove. It only took about ten minutes for them to get to the one and only hospital in Carolsburg. Allen followed Hector as he had seemed to know where he was going.

  They pulled into the Emergency Room parking lot and walked in the sliding glass doors. The front receptionist and Hector talked for a few minutes and then they sat in the partially full waiting room. Even though they were sitting side by side there were still no words spoken. Instead Hector just stared ahead barely moving except for the occasional blink. The adrenaline of the moment in the office had begun to wear off and now Allen could really began to feel the pain in his arm. It was
pulsing with his heartbeat and each pulse started out in his arm and radiated its way outward.

  By the time they were called into the exam room it was past seven in the evening and the sun had already gone down. They followed a nurse through a set of swinging double doors that had big rubber stoppers at the bottom of them. This time Allen led the way and Hector tailed behind him. Allen felt his eyes on him, watching him.

  The nurse took Allen’s vitals and then instead of asking Allen she asked Hector about the workmen’s compensation, about the insurance, and about the incident. Hector replied that they sometimes have the office personnel help out in the field in case they get behind and also for training and experience of the office personnel. His answer and the way he voiced it made it sound like he had done this before, many times in fact. After the nurse had written everything down and updated his chart she left. Again, the two of them sat in silence.

  Eventually, the emergency room doctor came in. As he stepped in the door he introduced himself to Allen, “Doctor Andrews, nice to meet you.” Allen reached out his good hand and awkwardly tried to shake the Doctor’s hand with his left hand. After they had been introduced Doctor Andrews turned towards Hector and said, “Boy? Another one Hector? You guys have got to stop putting your office guys out in the field!”

  Hector replied back with something to the doctor but Allen didn’t hear it. Another one? How many times had this happened before? Is this what had happened to Rich? Is this why he was so shaken the next day? A shiver ran through Allen’s spine.

  --

  The rest of the appointment was very procedural and efficient. They sent him down to get an x-ray of his wrist. They then had to go back to the waiting room and wait for the results to come in and for Doctor Andrews to come to a conclusion.

  When they were called back into the waiting room Doctor Andrews informed Allen that he had broken his Radius in two places and that he had nearly broken his Ulna. Luckily, the injury could be treated with a cast instead of something more invasive. Allen said nothing but only nodded his head in acknowledgement. He wanted to scream out to the doctor. He wanted to tell him that this was all a lie. That he wasn’t some dumbass who couldn’t handle a sledge hammer. No. No that wasn’t it at all. Brockford was fucking crazy. That was the problem. He had considered saying something even with Hector in the room. What could he do to him in here anyways? Allen began to speak but then stopped mid-sentence as Doctor Andrews was wrapping his wrist. He had heard something come from the doctor that chilled him.

  “Hey Hector, be sure to thank Mr. Brockford again for adding the addition. Julie and I really appreciate how fast you guys got that done. He’s welcome to come over anytime he wants!” Allen sighed. This guy was bought and sold just like all of the rest. What assurance did he have that he would help him? It wasn’t worth the risk with Hector in the room.

  It was a bit past eight thirty that evening when Hector and Allen left the hospital together. Allen’s pain in his wrist had dulled substantially but it was still there. The reminder was still there. Without the need for directions Allen found Hector driving straight to his apartment. He made all of the turns as if they were memory. He even pulled into the parking place that Allen usually parked at.

  It was as Allen was opening the door and climbing out of the vehicle with his pain killer prescription in hand that Hector looked over at him and said, “Good night.” Allen said nothing and slammed the door as hard as he could. A few minutes later he was laying in his bed wondering what the hell he was going to do.

  --

  The next morning not knowing what else to do, or if they would be waiting for him, Allen got ready for work. Things moved much slower with his fractured wrist but eventually he was able to get himself dressed and ready. (He didn’t bother with a shower.) It was as he was leaving his apartment and stepping out into the parking lot that he realized that his car wasn’t here. It was back at Brockford’s office sitting in the parking lot all by itself. It was left there overnight after the previous night’s… events.

  At the same time this realization occurred to him Allen saw that there was a car in his parking spot. It was that damned white pickup. Although this time it didn’t look like Hector was driving it. There was another man, a much shorter and wider one, sitting in the seat. He wore a dark blue polo with the Brockford Construction logo on it.

  The man waved over to him and Allen just stared back. He had to get out of this. He had to get the hell away from here. Would they come looking for him if he didn’t go into work? Where would he go? His car was still sitting vacant in the parking lot. He had to at least get his car back.

  Allen climbed into the passenger side of the pickup and said, “Good morning,” to the driver. The driver smiled at him. His dark skin seemed to make his brilliant white teeth stand out even more. It looked unnatural. They drove the few minutes to corporate and then they each got out. He considered going right for his car then and there but he felt that it was too rash. No, he had to be smarter. He would leave at lunch. He would go to the cops at lunch and tell them what had happened, what had been happening for who knows how long.

  When Allen got to the top of the stairs and entered the corporate office nearly everyone ignored him. There were a few good mornings here and there but for the most part people just walked past him like he was a pariah. It was as Allen was walking past the break room towards his cubicle that he heard a familiar voice, “How’s your wrist Allen?”

  Allen slowly turned around and saw Mr. Brockford standing in the break room next to the coffee machine. In his hands were a large mug of coffee and some kind of glazed donut in the other. The red in his cheeks was there as usual along with beads of sweat there were trickling down his forehead and his face. He was walking towards him.

  For a moment Allen felt frozen in fear. He just stood there in the hallway not knowing what to say or do. With each moment Brockford walked closer to him. Before he knew it Brockford was standing only a few inches away directly in front of him.

  “How’s that wrist today Allen? Feeling better yet?”

  Allen stared at him blankly trying to come up with words. Fear ran through his body like a spasm. “Uh… Yeah. I mean… Yes. Starting to feel better.”

  “Good! Have a great day today,” Brockford said as he slapped him on the shoulders the way a friend would do. With that Brockford turned back towards his office and went on his way.

  Every so slowly the fear that Allen was feeling was transitioning. It was being replaced by anger, by hate. Hate for this company, but most important of all hate for Brockford. He would get that son of a bitch. The thought of the police department entered his mind again. At his lunch hour he would go down there and tell them everything. Tell them about the hammer, his injury… and Rich’s.

  After his encounter with Brockford Allen made his way to his cubicle. At the same time Rich was standing outside unlocking his office door. One of his crutches was balanced against the wall next to him as he used his free hand to move the keys. As Allen sat down Rich turned his head slightly towards him. His expression was mostly neutral. There was some strain on his face but that was most likely from the balancing on the crutches. It was as he looked at Allen that his face changed. At first there was what Allen thought was a look of horror but it vanished before he could study it. It was replaced with anger and then what looked like sympathy. All of this happened in a matter of seconds and before he knew it Rich’s face was back to the neutral look of indifference. He said nothing as his door opened. He grabbed his crutch that rested on the wall and walked his way back into his office.

  Allen didn’t see Rich throughout the rest of the morning. He tried to work. He tried to do anything to occupy his mind but all he could think about was lunchtime. At lunchtime Brockford would get his.

  Chapter 7 - Police

  Eleven-thirty came with agonizing slow speed. Almost the entire morning was spent with Allen staring at the computer clock on his desktop watching the minutes slowly roll by
. When the time eventually came he got up to leave at his usual time and walked out to the parking lot. He passed by a few people as he walked out of the office but no one gave him a second glance.

  He climbed into his car, started the ignition, shut the door, and then sat there not moving. The car idled silently as he sat there in the cabin seemingly frozen in place staring straight ahead. Should he actually do this? Should he go to the cops? A part of him was still conflicted. He had a nice place, a car, hell he even had a health savings account. What more could he ask for? Should he risk all of that for last night’s events? Would it happen again? Was it worth risking his financial security?

  Not really knowing what he was going to do he put the car into reverse and backed out of the parking space. A second later he had pulled out of the parking lot and was heading south down fifth street. He knew where the police department was. Up until a few years ago it was in a very old part of town in an ancient looking brick building that had some of the mortar chipping off. Allen remembered visiting this building once or twice as a kid. It had a peculiar sort of smell that he never could identify. Last year the department had obtained funds to build a new state of the art building right next to city hall. (He had heard about it on the local news that his parents watched religiously.) Allen hadn’t seen the new station yet but he had been to city hall to get his driver’s license and he knew exactly where to go.

  At first he circled around city hall and the police department going around the block back and forth all the while debating in his mind what he should do. Finally, on his fourth go around the block he pulled into the police department’s parking lot. The lot was mostly empty except for a collection of squad cars and other police vehicles parked at the back corner. Allen parked in the designated visitor’s section next to a green colored sedan.