Horror Stories Part 34

"No? You sure 'bout that, fat man?"

Kringle smiled. "I checked it twice."

Phyllis's eyes went mean."You saying I'm not one of them? I'm one of them. I'm one of them in my heart, you giant sack of -"

"Enough!"

Ryan stood up and walked over to Kringle.

"And who are you, little human?"

"I'm tired of running, Christopher. I've been running for too long."

Kringle's brow furrowed.

"That voice. I know that voice."

"I had some work done. Changed my human face. But I'm sure you'll recognize this one."

Ryan's body shook, and then he transformed into a werewolf. A giant werewolf, several feet taller than Weston.

Kringle took a step back, his face awash with fear.

"Bob."

Weston watched, awestruck, as this millennia-old battle played out before him.

Kringle snarled, raising up his awful Satan Claws.

Bob bared his teeth and howled, a gut-churning cry that reverberated to the core of Weston's very soul.

But before either of them attacked, before either of them even moved, Kris Kringle's head rolled off his shoulders and onto the floor by Bob's feet.

Phyllis Lawanda Marisha Taleena Allenby, scythe in hand, brought the blade down and speared the tip into Kringle's decapitated head, holding it up so it faced her.

"Am I on your list now, m.u.t.h.a f.u.c.ker?"

Bob peered down at Phyllis, his lupine jaw hanging open.

"You just killed Kris Kringle."

"d.a.m.n easy too. Why the h.e.l.l didn't you do that five thousand years ago?"

Scott, a round green hand pressed to his wrinkled old head, stumbled back into the room.

"What happened?"

"Phyllis killed Kris Kringle," Irena said.

"You go, girl." Scott gave Phyllis a high-five.

"You all fought bravely." Bob stood tall, addressing the group. "Except for the pig. For your courage, you'll now have full control over your therianthrope powers. You can change at will, and shall retain control of your inner creatures."

"So how do we turn back?" Irena asked.

"Concentrate."

Scott went first, morphing back into his human form.

Weston and Irena changed while holding hands.

David's face scrunched up, but nothing happened.

"It's not working," he said. "I'm still coral."

"How about me?" Phyllis asked. "I'm the one that killed that jolly old b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

"I can turn you into a werewolf, if you so desire."

"These guys offered me that before. But I don't want to be no wolf, or no cheetah, or no turtle, or no dumb a.s.s coral. No offense, David."

"None taken. I'm concentrating, but nothing's happening."

Phyllis folded her arms. "My inner animal is a hippopotamus. That's what I want to be."

Bob's shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry, Phyllis. That's the extent of my power. But... maybe... just maybe..."

"Maybe what?"

"I don't know if this will work, because he's dead."

"Just spill the beans, Lon Chaney."

"Try sitting on Santa's lap."

Phyllis raised a drawn-on eyebrow. "You serious?"

"He might still have some magic left. Try it."

Phyllis walked over to the fallen Kringle and sat on one of his ma.s.sive thighs.

"Now what?"

"Make a Christmas wish, Phyllis. Make your most heartfelt Christmas wish ever."

She closed her eyes, and her lips whispered something Weston couldn't hear.

And then Weston felt something. Kind of like a breeze. A breeze made of Christmas magic. It swirled around the room, touching each of them, and them coming to rest on Phyllis.

But nothing happened. She didn't morph into a hippo. She didn't morph into anything. A minute pa.s.sed, and she was still the same old Phyllis.

"I'm sorry, Phyllis." Bob helped her up. "I wish there was something else I could do."

A sad silence blanketed the room.

Then badboy rapper LL Cool J strutted into the bas.e.m.e.nt, sans shirt. He took Phyllis's hand, gave her a deeply pa.s.sionate kiss, and cupped her b.u.t.t.

"Gonna take you back to the crib and make love to you all night, girl. But first we gonna stop by the bank, get your hundred million dollars."

LL picked her up and carried her out.

"See you guys next week," Phyllis called after them.

"Someone push me over to Santa's lap," David said. "This coral wants a house in Hawaii."

"What about all of these corpses?" Scott made a sweeping gesture with his hands. "The police are gonna have a field day."

"I'll take care of it." Bob rubbed his stomach. "I didn't have any of the donuts."

"Little help here." David wiggled in place.

Weston felt a tug on his hand. He stared into Irena's eyes.

"Want to, maybe, grab some coffee?" he asked.

"No."

Weston died a little inside. Irena's nose twitched, showing him a brief glimpse of her inner cheetah.

"Instead of coffee, I want you to come to my place. I've got a leash and a king sized bed."

G.o.d bless us, everyone, Weston thought as they walked hand-in-hand out the door.

Here's another old story that I eventually rewrote to flesh it out a bit. It's an epistolary peace, entirely done as journal entries written by a teen girl. I revisited the epistolary form for a section in an upcoming Jack Kilborn book.

Sept 15 Dear Diary, First day of school! I hope this doesn't turn into a repeat of last year, when Sue Ellen Derbin and Margaret "Superb.i.t.c.h" Dupont decided to try and kick me off of Pom-Pons. When I think about all those things they said about me it makes me soooo mad! Who cares if my parents never had a lot of money or anything, and so what if I don't have any stupid designer clothes, I'm still a better person than them. They were so jealous of my blonde hair and blue eyes and my heritage. I hated those phonies soooo much!!! It's so nice they don't bother me anymore.

My schedule is English, Algebra, Biology, Lunch, Gym, History, Art, and Music. It's nice to finally be an eighth grader and get the cla.s.ses I want. But I still don't want to be here, and if I ever have kids I'll let them decide if they want to go school or not. I don't care if it's a law, the law stinks and so does school!!!

But it's not all bad. Robert Collins is in my math cla.s.s and he's sooooo cute! He's got the best b.u.t.t I've ever seen on a thirteen-year-old, and when he smiles with those dimples I sincerely want to die! We got to choose our own seats and I sat next to him. Tomorrow I'll wear more perfume and see if he notices.

Sept 16 Dear Diary, Pom-Pon tryouts were today, and I'm Captain of the first squad! With Sue Ellen and Margret Superb.i.t.c.h gone, it was waaaaay too easy. Debbie Baker made squad two leader, and I could tell she was p.i.s.sed that I beat her out. Tough t.i.tties, Deb!!!

But even better than that, Robert commented that he liked my perfume today! I wore a little extra, and while we were doing our problems he wrote me a note that said "Is that you who smells so good?" I almost died, right there in cla.s.s.

I know I'm going to save that note forever.

Then I did something that was totally unlike me. I asked him if he was still going out with Pam Escher. He said no, Pam was now dating Stu Dorman. It seems Stu dumped Melissa for Pam and Pam dumped poor Robert. I feel bad for him, but not for me. Wouldn't it be great if he asked me out?

Sept 17 Dear Diary, HE ASKED ME OUT!!!!!!!!!!!!!.

I couldn't believe it. We were done checking our homework and he leaned over so his lips were almost touching my ear and asked if I wanted to go out after school! So I skipped Pom-Pon practice and we walked over to Barro's Pizza and shared a small pepperoni. I didn't actually eat any, because of my special diet, but he didn't notice. We talked a lot about school and about how everyone is too concerned about appearance rather than being real and he told me about his family that came from New York and I told him that my family actually came from Scandinavian. He was super intelligent and serious. I never would have guessed he was so smart because he's so cute. I wonder if he'll be THE ONE. He's so cute it would be great if he was.

Sept 18 Dear Diary, I got in BIG trouble for skipping Pom-Pon practice. Debbie Baker kept sucking up to Mrs. Meaker, saying how I shouldn't be squad captain if I didn't show up. The little b.i.t.c.h. Mrs. Meaker didn't say much, other than I had to make sure I didn't miss it again.

Robert and I pa.s.sed notes back and forth during math. Nothing lovey-dovey, just talk because math is sooooo boring. I wish he had the same lunch period as I did. He said he would ask me out again after school but he has football practice. I told him I had Pom-Pons, and maybe we could meet after. He said great. But my practice ran late (practicing Debbie's stupid new drills) so when I got to Barro's he wasn't there. I hope he isn't mad.

Sept 19 Dear Diary, Robert looked hurt in Math today, but I wrote him a note in English to explain everything and when he read it he forgave me. He asked me out again after school, and I agreed, even though I would miss another practice. Practicing five times a week is too much, if you ask me. We met at Barro's and got another pepperoni (which I didn't eat), and we talked for two hours. I told him all about runestones and Viking mythology and the Heimskringla and he really seemed interested. Then halfway during our talk he reached out and held my hand. I thought I would die!!!!! His hands are so strong and big. Maybe he is THE ONE.

Sept 20 Dear Diary, WEEKEND!!!!! I'm gonna spent it all in my bas.e.m.e.nt, getting stronger and watching my diet. If you want to be the best, that's what you have to do.

Sept 22 Dear Diary, That b.i.t.c.h Debbie got me kicked off as squad one leader!!!!!!!!! I just missed two stupid days! I cried in the bathroom for a half hour. I want to kill her! She talked to Mrs. Meaker and Mrs. Meaker said I wasn't meeting up to my responsibilities. I hate them both.

Robert waited for me after practice so I had a shoulder to cry on. He even kissed me, but it was only on the cheek. He's such a doll. He invited me over to his house for dinner, but I lied to him and said my parents already had plans. I couldn't tell him about the bas.e.m.e.nt. But maybe I will soon.

Sept 23 Dear Diary, Debbie didn't come to school today. I wonder why? (Ha!) I asked Mrs. Meaker if I could have my squad leader position back, and she said maybe. She'll say yes when Debbie misses another practice.

Robert kissed me on the mouth today, for the first time! It was weird and exciting! He even used his tongue!!!!! He's soooo sophisticated. It was right after practice. He waited for me, and wanted to walk me home. I lied and said my parents didn't allow visitors. He believed me, and then he leaned over and kissed me. I thought my knees turned to Jell-O. I now know that he is THE ONE.

Sept 24 Dear Diary, I've been thinking about it a lot and I've decided to show Robert the bas.e.m.e.nt. I invited him over after practice and lied and said my parents weren't home. I said I'd make dinner. He was impressed that I could cook. I didn't tell him that I couldn't.

By the time we got to my place it was already getting dark, and Robert said he should call home and check in. But I told him to look at my bas.e.m.e.nt first, because I had a big surprise.

When I turned on the bas.e.m.e.nt light, the hissing started. Robert asked if it was the furnace, and I giggled. Then I pulled the cover off the cages.

Debbie Baker was tied up in the first one, naked, lying in a smelly puddle of her own p.i.s.s. She twisted and banged her head on the cage door and looked so funny I had to laugh. Robert just stared.

Then I pulled the tarp off the other cage. Margret "Superb.i.t.c.h" Dupont hissed. Sue Ellen Derbin was crying, like always. Sue Ellen had no arms or legs, and was lying naked on the hay I put down for her, which she messed again. Gross! I had to stop feeding her so much dog food.

Superb.i.t.c.h Margret had one stump of an arm left, severed at the elbow. Both had those awful brown scars where I had to burn them to seal the wound after I cut off a limb. I couldn't let them bleed to death. That wouldn't be right.

Robert got really freaked out, and I explained to him they were hissing because I cut out their vocal cords. That way they couldn't attract attention. He turned around and tried to go up the stairs but I had locked the bas.e.m.e.nt door. I told him I thought he was staying for dinner. That's how you get strong. By eating your enemies. One piece at a time. That's what my Viking ancestors did. But the people have to be alive when you eat them, or else you don't ingest their souls. Their souls are what really made you strong. They made me strong. That's why I was Pom-Pon captain. And that's why I was going out with the cutest boy in school.

As I explained this to Robert, he started to yell for help. I tried to tell him not to be scared, because he was THE ONE. THE ONE to share this secret with me. Together we could live forever. It was okay. You didn't have to eat them all at once. You just do it a little bit at a time. I told him I had already eaten my parents. It took two years before I finished the last of Dad.

But Robert just kept on screaming, and I finally had to hit him over the head to shut him up. I guess he wasn't THE ONE after all.

I stripped off his clothes and tied him up and used the long scissors to snip his vocal chords. Then I looked over his trim body and decided what I wanted to eat first. I plugged in the electric saw and built a fire in the pit to heat the cauterizing iron.

I didn't want Robert to bleed to death. That wouldn't be right. I couldn't ingest his strength then. And he looks strong enough to be able to feed me for a loooooooooong time.

A humorous horror story that harkens back to the alien invasion movies of the 1950s. I wondered what would happen if an alien landed in modern day California.

"I have traveled many billions of light years to mate with an earth woman."

Debbi eyed the john and licked her cherry red lips. Freak, she thought. But all the freaks were out tonight. Halloween in LA was crazier than Mardi Gras.

He was dressed up like some kind of gooey alien, and she had to admit his make-up was pretty good. His mask had scales on it, like a fish, and his mouth had little dangly things that moved when he spoke. The s.p.a.cesuit, made of some kind of metallic silvery fabric, was Hollywood-quality - not surprising, considering they were on the Sunset Strip. It was probably an old movie prop.