by Spike Black
AVERT YOUR EYES
VOL.1
SPIKE BLACK
© 2016 Spike Black
All Rights Reserved
Published by High Concept Books
Spike Black Logo by Richard Wendt
Cover Design by High Concept Designs
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without written permission from the author.
CONTENTS
Freak Fear
Mirror rorriM
Colon Cobra
Happy Thoughts
10:00
Dead End Job
The Small Print
Floored
The Glass Is Always Cleaner
A Prize Every Time
Free eBook!
About The Author
Bonus: Don’t Look Inside Chapter 1
Advance Reader Team
Freak Fear
Drew watched with slack-jawed dread through the kitchen window, so utterly consumed with terror that his vision pulsed. The bizarre creature emerged from a gaudily painted camper van, closing the door with its giant paws. It took a moment to steady the enormous head on its furry shoulders, and then plodded toward the house on ridiculously elongated feet.
It’s coming.
The sudden urge to flee was overwhelming, but Drew held fast. It felt like his insides were being squeezed, and that if he were to vomit, his internal organs would be expelled also, lodging in his throat and choking him to death.
But he refused to let himself be sick, because then his big secret would be revealed, and he couldn’t have that. He was a grown man with a responsible job. A father whose daughter idolized him. A husband who wished to retain the respect of his beautiful wife.
Drew had no choice. He simply had to take control of his fear.
The doorbell rang. His heart leapt. “I’ll get it,” he called, in a sing-song manner that he hoped would convey just the right level of nonchalance.
He marched into the hall. The satellite-sized silhouette of the creature’s head filled the square of mottled glass at the front door. Bile rose up, burning his throat. He turned the key in the lock. Removed the chain. Gripped the door handle.
Don’t do it. For Christ’s sake! Do not welcome that thing into your home…
It was too late, he realized with a lurching, vertiginous terror. His hand had betrayed him and opened the door anyway.
Dear God.
It stood there, staring back at him with frozen facial features - eyeholes set in teardrops of black fur, a permanently smiling mouth. A pair of fluffy ears perched atop its bulbous head, flanking a bow of pink ribbon. Drew realized that he, too, was staring, his own face a frozen mask, and for what seemed like a very long moment, neither of them moved.
Drew couldn’t breathe.
The bear reacted first, waving in an exaggerated arc, before holding out a perfectly wrapped present. Drew took it. He hid his discomfort behind a laugh that he failed to recognize as his own.
“Hello! Hello, come in, come in, please…”
The freakish thing curtsied, clutching its pink tutu as it did so, and Drew laughed again.
Stop it, he reprimanded himself. But he had no choice. The laughter was his way of dealing with the situation, like a pressure relief valve inside his head. His only other option would have been to scream.
The creature waddled into the house. Drew held the door open as wide as he could, but still the beast brushed past him, its fur rubbing against his forearm, and he shuddered.
Exposure therapy, he told himself. That’s what this is. Exposure therapy.
That’s what a psychologist would prescribe if he ever went to see one about his fear. Which he never had, of course, because that would be too emasculating. But he couldn’t help wondering what life would be like if he ever managed to cure himself. He’d take Ava to all of the places these creatures inhabited - zoos, theme parks, family restaurants - instead of rabidly avoiding them as he had done these past six years.
Closing the door, he turned back into the hall and the thing was standing there, staring at him. He jolted - it was as if one of his recurring nightmares had manifested itself in reality. The bear shrugged, holding out its paws in a where? gesture.
Drew laughed again. “Follow me.” He moved swiftly past the creature and into the playroom, which was decorated with Paloma Panda banners and bunting. Hyperactive children in party hats danced to inane kiddie pop. “Ava,” he called. “Ava! A special guest has arrived for you.”
“Who is it?” His daughter burst through the throng, her mouth dropping open as she saw the bear. “Paloma!”
Drew’s wife Becky appeared. “Wow, Ava! The real Paloma Panda has come to your birthday party! Aren’t you lucky?”
The bear spread its arms and Ava ran into them, giving the creature a big hug. “Paloma! Paloma!”
Drew cringed. He could barely stand to watch. Every ounce of his being was telling him to pull his daughter away from the costumed freak show, but he managed to resist the temptation.
“Daddy!” Ava screamed. “It’s Paloma Panda!”
“I know. Isn’t it great?”
“She’s real! I always knew she was. She’s a real person!”
Drew frowned. “Well, sort of. I mean, she’s not actually a real person.”
Ava’s face fell.
Becky interjected. “No, she’s not a real person, Ava, she’s a real bear. Isn’t that right, daddy?”
Drew forced a big smile, nodding reluctantly. These kinds of lies annoyed him. She was six-years-old, for goodness sake, not a toddler. She needed to know how the world really worked. It seemed ludicrous to him that parents all over the world lied to their kids in order to preserve the precious ‘magic’ of childhood. Christmas, for example - what a stupid time. Drew and Becky forced Ava to tell the truth all year round, then blatantly lied to her every December. They had tied themselves in knots trying to explain Santa Claus to a child who lived in a house without a chimney. He flies in through the keyhole, Becky had told her, but Drew reckoned that was a bit of a stretch even for a kid to swallow, so he told Ava that Santa had his own key. But after Christmas she became worried, because if Santa had his own key, then he could come in whenever he wanted and take back her toys. This developed into a full-blown fear that Santa was hiding under her bed every night, so he’d had no choice but to go along with the flies-through-the-keyhole theory and to apologize to Ava for being so silly.
The bear monster approached him, holding out its paws. What the hell does it want from me? His skin prickled. Then he realized he was still holding the present. “Oh, of course!” He handed it over, laughing again. God, he hated himself.
The bear gave the present to Ava, clamping one of its enormous paws over its mouth as Ava unwrapped it. Inside was a Paloma Panda cuddly toy, and the bear applauded. “Thank you,” Ava said. “I love it. It’s absolutely the best present ever.” The bear placed a paw to its mouth again, this time pretending to stifle a giggle.
Best present ever? Bloody cheek. What about the expensive bike we bought her?
Ava cuddled the bear again, and Drew’s flesh crawled. He desperately wanted to understand this inexplicable revulsion inside him that clearly no others felt. It was the only way to get past it. Partly, he believed, his fear stemmed from the exaggerated body language and continual hand gestures. Maybe, as an introvert, it was a fear of drama queens and amateur dramatics. Of those who were larger than life. He had certain
ly steered away from such people for as long as he could remember.
But there was more to it than that. The constant miming bothered him. The inability or refusal to speak. And then there was that permanent smile emblazoned across its furry face, creeping him out. He hated fake smiles in every walk of life. Those with fixed grins plastered on their faces were, in his experience, dishonest individuals. People with something to hide.
He shuddered. Yes, that’s it. The smile hinted at the deep-seated reason for his fear. He understood now what he was really afraid of. It was a fear of the unknown.
A fear of who the hell was really beneath that bear costume.
***
Ava became more attached to Paloma Panda as the afternoon continued, constantly tugging at the bear’s fur for attention and refusing to go anywhere without holding its paw. Drew tried his best to enter into the party spirit, taking photographs of his daughter dancing with the beast. “Oh, that’s a good one,” he said, as the creature snaked an arm around his daughter. Yeah, that’ll be my screensaver, he thought. Or maybe I’ll print it, frame it, and hang it above the mantel.
It was the fact that these people were not who they appeared to be, that they hid behind a disguise; that was what got to him about it. That even as children’s entertainers there was that level of subterfuge. It was why, in every area of his life, he would always rather meet someone face-to-face than speak to them over the phone - he liked to know, at every step of the way, exactly who he was dealing with.
His blood boiled. It could literally be anyone inside that costume, hugging his daughter and playing with the other children. A serial killer, perhaps, or a convicted pedophile, or an alien from another planet, for all he knew.
The more he sat there, stewing, enduring the torture of the party, the less any of it made sense. Surely others should have been incensed by this? How had it not even entered Becky’s head? As parents, they were always lecturing their daughter about stranger danger, warning her to be wary of people she didn’t know, and yet it was, apparently, perfectly acceptable for her to play with this total stranger who had kept his identity completely hidden behind a fake head and a false smile.
And yes, it was a he. Drew was certain of it. He wasn’t fooled by the tutu or the eyelashes or the pink bow perched on top of its head. Pandora Panda was a guy. Probably some out-of-work kids entertainer who couldn’t hide the fact that he got off on cuddling kids. Except that this way, people paid him to do it.
Drew gritted his teeth. He felt his cheeks burning. If this weird guy - this ugly, sweaty, creepy guy - was just standing there in the middle of the playroom with a pink bow on his head, would all the kids be running over and hugging him? Of course not. In fact, Drew decided, there simply had to be something wrong with the person inside that costume, whether they were the creepy guy of his imagination or not. Ordinary members of society had regular jobs. They would never choose to dress up in one of these costumes all day long. Only sadists, or psychopaths, or those with something to hide would choose this as their profession. It would be the perfect job for ex-convicts straight out of prison, or notorious criminals whose faces were known, or for those on the run from the law.
He tried taking some more pictures, just to keep up appearances, but his hand was shaking so badly that every photograph came out blurred. Exposure therapy? What a joke. This wasn’t helping his fear one little bit. If he was going to get any closure on this matter, if he was ever going to beat his fear, then there was really only one thing for it.
He would have to find out who was beneath that bloody costume.
***
At long last it came to the end of the hour that Drew had paid for, and Paloma Panda waved her goodbyes. Ava, of course, had to have a long hug. Drew stood in excruciating agony behind the camera lens, praying for this nightmare to be over. The bear mimed wiping away tears, and after a few more waves to the excited children, it exited the playroom.
Drew ran into the hallway and called after it. “Excuse me?”
The creature didn’t respond. It continued padding down the hall.
“Hello? Paloma Panda?”
The bear halted, stood perfectly still for a moment, and then slowly turned to face him.
Drew was so completely filled with terror that he realized he was short of breath. “Can I… can I have a word?” He pointed to the doorway. “Do you mind?”
Drew stepped through. The bear followed him into the kitchen, where all the party food was laid out. A Paloma Panda birthday cake took pride of place in the center of the table, flanked by a mountain of sandwiches under plastic wrap and a stack of carefully arranged panda-face cupcakes.
Drew held out an envelope. “Here’s everything we owe you.”
The bear placed its paws on either side of its head and mimed a state of shock, then bowed. It took the envelope, placing both palms together and nodding its head in gracious thanks.
“It’s okay,” Drew said. “It’s just us now. There’s no need for all this. You can be yourself.”
The bear cocked its head to the side as if it didn’t understand.
“You can talk freely. You don’t have to keep up the act.”
Paloma Panda shrugged, palms facing skyward.
Drew sighed. He pulled out a twenty. “Look, here’s a little extra if you’ll do something for me.” He placed the money in the bear’s paw. “You’re off the clock now, so how about a peek under the head?”
The creature stared back at him.
“Come on, I just want to see who you are.”
Its head wobbled from side to side. It held out the money.
Drew refused to take it. “Please, just show yourself to me. I paid for your services, so I think I deserve that. It’s no big deal, right?”
The bear placed the money down on the table and turned to leave.
Drew jumped in front of the creature, blocking its exit. “Look. Buddy. It’s a mental thing for me, okay? I can’t trust someone unless I see their face. It’s therapy, in a way. Just help me out here. Take off the bloody head.”
He stepped forward. The bear took a step back. Drew was stunned to discover that it looked genuinely frightened.
He growled in frustration. “I’m sorry, but this is happening, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” He grabbed for the head, clutching tufts of white fur, and tugged. He hated having to touch the beast, but it had to be done. To his surprise, the head didn’t come away. He pulled harder. The bear flailed its arms around in silent protest, knocking a pitcher of lemonade to the floor.
“You’re not getting away with this,” Drew growled. “I’m going to find out exactly who the hell you are.” He wrestled the bear to the ground, getting it in a headlock. He grabbed a clump of fur on the top of its head, knocking off the pink bow, and yanked hard.
Ava ran into the kitchen, followed by a few of her giggling friends. Ava stopped in her tracks when she saw what was happening.
Drew yelled out, pulling with all his strength, and at last the bear’s head came away in his hands. His joy turned to horror as a fountain of blood gushed over the birthday cake.
Ava’s face contorted in horror, and she screamed. A child behind her fainted.
Paloma Panda’s neck stump pumped geysers of blood as her body collapsed to the tiled floor.
An orchestra of noise filled the house as every child at the party began screaming. Becky came running, saw Drew holding the bloodied panda head, and she started screaming, too.
“Daddy killed Paloma Panda!” Ava cried. “Why, Daddy? Why?”
Drew looked down, and in his trance-like state saw crimson pooling over the checkered tiles as blood gushed from the gaping neck of Paloma Panda’s twitching corpse. He turned the severed head around in his hands. The eyes were now closed, the tongue lolling out of its mouth.
***
Drew came around some time later to discover a police officer pulling him to his feet. The officer placed his wrists in handcuffs.
“
Drew Bailey, I’m arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Paloma Pandora Eugenie Panda. You do not have to say anything, but it may harm your defense if you do not mention, when questioned, something which you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given in evidence. Do you understand?”
Drew stared ahead. A noise rose from his throat in response. “Gnuh.”
He was led out into the hall. Becky was there, her face etched with horror and disbelief, tear tracks staining her face. “Surely you knew?” she said, her voice trembling. “Surely? Surely you knew?”
His brow furrowed. He wanted to ask what she meant, but he couldn’t speak. The officer led him outside, to a world he no longer understood. He saw the camper van parked on the roadside, with the Paloma Panda insignia emblazoned across the door. Standing beside the van was a distraught male panda, dressed in dungarees. His over-sized head bobbed up and down as he jerked with emotion. He was being comforted by a female police officer. When he looked up and saw Drew, his features twisted into an expression of blazing fury. He launched forward. Drew flinched. The bear was restrained by two officers. He fought to get away, mouthing obscenities that Drew could not hear.
The officer ushered Drew into the back of a waiting police car. As the door closed, Drew saw the rear of the camper van slide open, and two beautiful panda children stepped out, their heads too large for their tiny bodies.
As they ran over and fell into the arms of their father, Drew saw that the children were crying.
Mirror rorriM
After six hours of clearing lampshades full of dead bugs, washing smeary windows framed with cobwebs, and choking on a cocktail of dust, mold and rot that reeked of death, Callum wanted out. He was itchy and irritable and he’d never needed a bath more in his life.
