Starla sat on my porch rocking chair, and as I moved closer, I could see she was holding a piece of paper in her hand. She smiled sickly sweet at me. “Turns out it wasn’t Ma and Pa after all. Officer Gald left you a voicemail. The bodies were identified as some missing teens from way back.”
I limped up the steps, not caring anymore. “Gonna have to bury all your whore daughters out here too,” I said.
She flew out of the chair and slapped me hard. “Lying bitch!!!”
She punched me in the stomach. I coughed, throwing up the bile that had been right at the back of my throat. “I’m not lyin’. I bet your deranged son is out there fucking their corpses right now.”
She hit me again. “You filthy little liar!” she screamed in my face. She gripped me by the hair and dragged me into the house, to the kitchen sink. She kicked the back of my hurt leg, and I collapsed. She forced my mouth open and squeezed liquid soap into my mouth.
I wrapped my fingers around the handle of the hammer and swung it at her knee. She screamed and slammed my face into the cabinet. Stars swam across my vision. I swung again, blindly connecting with something. I kept swinging, again and again, until she stopped fighting. Slowly, my vision became clear. I could see my phone on the counter next to the gun she’d had. Snatching up the gun, I dropped the hammer and grabbed the phone with the other and dialed 911. I told them there were a lot of dead bodies, along with the address.
Arlo came in, his rifle aimed at me, until he saw his mom sprawled on the floor. I squeezed the trigger of the gun in my hand before he could register what he was seeing. I squeezed it again, over and over until the gun clicked empty. It didn’t matter, though. He was dead.
The 911 operator was talking, but I couldn’t understand what she was saying. The first signs of dawn showed through the open back door. I slumped down the counter and gave in to the darkness swimming on the corners of my vision.
About the Author
Nykki Mills is the author of the Cursed Souls Series, available on Kindle now. She devours any and all things dark and a little twisted. She is also the mother to three amazing little humans who keep her very busy. Wife to a wonderful husband who can fix whatever she happens to break. She currently lives in the lovely state of Montana.
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Demented
By Taylor Henderson
Prologue
The first thing I noticed as I ascended the porch stairs was that the front door was cracked open. The cold wind nipped at my nose, and I tugged at my hat in an attempt to pull it tighter around my face. I used my toe to shove the door open, causing it to swing backward on its hinges until it slammed into the wall behind it. The sound of the door making contact with the wall echoed throughout the house, sending chills down my spine.
“Mom?” I croaked, my voice coming out scratchy. “Dad?” Both of my parents’ cars were parked in the driveway, which was strange because Father was never home this early. Despite the fact I thought they were both home, everything seemed too quiet. I couldn’t place my finger on it, but something was wrong.
My hands shook as I peered into the house, which was eerie and dark as the shadows began to creep in and the sun slowly descended. I was home a lot later than usual because I had stayed after school to work on my science project for the fifth grade science fair. Mom was supposed to pick me up afterwards, but she had forgotten again. If Father knew she had forgotten to pick me up from school nearly every day this week, he would have had to punish her, and I didn’t want that, so I pretended like everything was fine. Now I was worried he had come home to see she hadn’t gotten me from school and something bad had happened in my absence.
“Daddy?” My shaky voice was carried away by the wind, and I jumped when the door slammed against the wall again. I was never home alone, and I was afraid of the empty house. “Mom?” I called out louder, leaning into the entranceway of the house.
When there was no answer, I decided to venture inside. One foot at a time, I cautiously stepped over the threshold and into the house. Without the sound of the wind whistling through the trees, the house was chillingly quiet. My clammy hands gripped tightly onto the straps of my backpack as I hesitantly walked up the main staircase to my parents’ bedroom. The floor creaked under my weight, and the sound of the house settling had me walking faster down the hallway.
You’re just being silly. There’s nothing to be afraid of.
I gripped the handle to my parents’ closed bedroom door and pushed it open.
Even to this day, I couldn’t get the images of my mother hunched over my father’s lifeless body, bashing his skull in with the loose brick from the fireplace in the family room. His face was so badly beaten in, he was no longer recognizable. Sadly, it’s the image that always comes to mind first when I think about my father.
When I think about my mother, I see sprays of blood across her pale face, the demented glint in her blue eyes when she looked up at me, and the snarl that had crossed onto her thin lips when she had charged after me. That day, she didn’t look like the mother I was used to. The mother who had comforted me when I was down, rocked me to sleep at night, and had always found a reason to smile no matter what, was gone. Instead, she’d been replaced by a woman who had the capability of murdering her husband and attacking her only child.
Chapter One
I yanked the seatbelt around me, roughly snapping it into place, before leaning up against the car door. With a sigh, I pressed my forehead against the cold, hard surface of the window and breathed in the smoky air surrounding me.
The car rocked when Austin opened the door and climbed into the driver's seat. His seatbelt clicked into place, and he sighed deeply, causing me to turn to face him. I squinted at him in frustration as he ran a shaky hand through his shaggy brown hair.
“Logan, you can't keep doing this.” Although he had whispered the words, they hit me as hard as if he had slapped me full force across my face. From his words, I knew he didn’t believe me. He was blaming me for everything when I wasn’t the one who deserved the blame. None of this was my fault.
It's not me! It’s her! I wanted to yell. There was no point, though. No matter how many times I said it, screamed it even, nothing ever changed. He didn’t believe me now, and he never would. I had resigned myself to knowing that. I looked away and bit my lip to keep myself from retaliating and saying everything I wanted to say but couldn’t without making him think I was even crazier than he probably already did.
Austin sighed again. Without looking, I could tell he was irritated. “Look at me, Lo,” he whispered. “Please look at me,” he repeated when I made no move to face him.
Sighing, I turned to him slowly, blinking away the angry tears that had started to leak from the corners of my eyes. The look of pity on his face only made me angrier, which made the tears come faster.
“I’m not lying,” I mumbled. “You say you want me to be honest with you, but when I tell you the truth about what’s going on, you don’t even believe me,” I hissed. “I just want her to leave me alone.” I choked out a sob on the last few words and squeezed my eyes shut in an attempt to hold back the tears. I turned back toward the window and sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm down.
“Logan, she was put away for what she did a long time ago. I understand the nightmares, but don't you think you’re taking it a little too far with the sightings? You have to admit it sounds a little crazy.” He leaned forward and cupped my face in both of his hands. “I won't let anything happen to you. You have to trust me.”
I faked a smile as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “Of course I trust you. I just don't know why you don't believe me.” The damn t
ears started to fall faster, running down my cheeks in streaks. I hadn’t felt this helpless in a long time.
“It's kind of hard to believe, Lo. Please don't cry. Everything will be all right, I promise.” Austin leaned in closer and pressed his lips softly to mine for a second before leaning back and wiping my tears away with his thumbs. “I love you.”
I forced a smile onto my face. “I love you more.”
Austin let go of me and sat back in his seat. “Just relax and get some rest. I’ll fill up the car, and then we’ll get back on the road.”
I nodded, waiting for him to shut the door. As soon as it closed, I flicked the switch locking the doors. I leaned back in my seat, ignoring the emotions bubbling up inside of me, and turned the volume up on the radio. The thudding of the bass helped distract me from my thoughts. Sighing, I rested my head against the seat and watched Austin enter the gas station to pay. My exhaustion was thick, but I willed myself to stay awake. While I waited for him to come out, my eyelids grew heavier, drooping closed.
The scream ripped its way out of my throat as my legs and arms thrashed around wildly. My legs became entangled in my bed sheets, causing me to kick harder. I rolled over, and for a second my pillow muffled my screams. Rolling over again, I found myself free falling until my body crash-landed onto the hard wooden floor of my bedroom.
The pain from the impact reverberated in my skull, and my eyes snapped open. I reached one hand up to cradle my head while rubbing at my aching side with the other. Tears spilled from my eyes, and I was faintly aware of my bedroom door sliding open.
The lights flashed on, and in came my worried mother. Her dark hair was wild and messy from sleep, and her eyes were squinted, adjusting to the light. Shutting the door behind her, she ran over to me and picked me up, cradling me in her arms. Her smooth fingers pushed the wavy brown strands of hair back off of my forehead, and she leaned down to plant a small kiss on the top of my head.
I sniffled and continued to cry until she pressed a finger to her lips and hushed me, whispering, “Shhh, I’m here. You have to be quiet now before you wake up Daddy, okay?”
I nodded and tried to quiet down, but images of the nightmare repeatedly played in my head. My mother rocked me back and forth, singing to me quietly while I cried, only stopping when she heard the floorboards creak in the hallway. Her face froze, and her arms tensed up around me.
I reached up and traced an imaginary heart on her cheek with my index finger. There was worry in her eyes when she looked down at me and smiled weakly. Lifting me as she stood up, she turned to place me back into my bed. As soon as I was out of her arms, a scene from my awful nightmare returned to me, and I whimpered loudly.
Her eyes widened in fear as my bedroom door swung open to reveal my enraged father. He stormed in, and within a second, he had crossed the room and swung his hand up, bringing it down roughly across my mother’s pale face. A startled cry escaped from her parted lips as she dropped to her knees and held her hands over her cheek.
Father leaned over and screamed down at her, making me tremble at the sound of his voice. “What did you do to her? Don’t you ever hurt her again! You hear me?”
Mom nodded, not once showing any sign of fear. Dad would often hit her until she bled, but Mom was strong. She never cried or whimpered or begged him to stop. I often wondered if that was why he would keep going, to get a reaction out of her. Then, when he was out of the house and we were alone, I would hear her crying in her room.
“You know I would never hurt her,” Mom replied in a guttural voice, barely loud enough for me to hear her.
“You didn’t think you were ever going to hurt Spencer either, did you?” he spat angrily as he leaned down so they were face to face.
Mom gasped at the name. Defeated, her heart-shaped face turned downwards.
“Did you?” Father screamed. His face was red with fury, and every time he yelled, the vein in his neck bulged.
“I’m sorry, Ray! What is it you want from me? It’s not like I can bring her back!” She looked him straight in the eye as she spoke.
Dad raised his hand and backslapped her again. This time, there was so much force she fell to the side, her head hitting the floor. After only a moment, she pushed herself up into a sitting position and cradled her head in her hands. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she clenched her teeth in pain.
“I want you to finally experience how much pain you caused me when you ended my little girl’s life.”
Despite the fact she was still sitting on the floor holding her head in pain, my mother managed to say, “She was my daughter, too. Don’t you think I know how much pain you went through? I loved her too, Ray. I still do.”
Ignoring his battered wife, Dad stood and turned to me with a smile on his face, coming to sit on the edge of my bed. It was always strange seeing him jump from angry to serene in a matter of seconds. It was as if someone inside of him was controlling his emotions with a light switch. Whenever he was around me, he always had a bright smile on his face, the exact opposite of when he was with my mother. They fought so often, I wondered why they wouldn’t just get a divorce. Maybe things would have ended up better if they had.
Dad brushed a few strands of hair out of my face and gently stroked my cheek. “Get some rest, sweetheart. I love you.” Shaking his head, he mumbled more to himself than to me, “I don't know what I would do if she ever hurt you.”
I wiped at my tears with the back of my hands. Mother moaned, trying to push herself to her feet. As if he had just remembered she was in the room, Dad pushed himself up from my bed.
All I could see were my mother's black eyes peering at me from over my father’s broad shoulder before he yanked her up by her hair and slammed her frail body against the wall. A loud snapping noise filled the room along with Mom’s agonized wail. The last thing I remembered was blood smeared across my bedroom wall, and then I woke up screaming.
My eyes snapped open, blinking furiously as I was blinded by the afternoon sun. Austin gripped onto my arm, shaking me gently. “Wake up, babe. It’s just another bad dream.” My nightmares happen so often now he no longer even appeared worried anymore.
Taking a few deep breaths to calm myself, I nodded. “I know. It was just so…real. Like it was all happening again.” I shuddered at the thought of reliving my childhood.
“Which one was it this time?”
“Oh, you know, the usual. I wake up crying from a nightmare, and Mom comes in to comfort me. Dad gets angry and beats the shit out of her for no reason.”
Austin leaned over the armrest, pushed my hair off of my shoulder, and pressed his lips to my collarbone. “How’d it end?”
“Snap. Then there was blood.”
Austin breathed in deeply. “Have you talked to Dr. Gower lately?”
“No.”
Dr. Gower is the therapist Austin hired to help me “clear my mind and find peace within myself.” I mean, don’t get me wrong, Dr. Gower is a nice lady and all, but I prefer not going in to talk to her if each session costs a little over a hundred dollars an hour. I could just as easily tell Austin about all of my problems, and at least I don’t have to pay to do that. I do sometimes feel bad for loading all of my problems on him, though. He always says he’s more than happy to listen, but I feel like the most complicated girlfriend in the world.
Austin held onto my hand, lacing his fingers with mine. “You should give her a call and make an appointment soon.”
I nodded, although I knew that wasn’t going to happen. I had been in therapy far too long, and it hadn’t helped. No way was I spending more money on something that didn’t stop the nightmares. No. I’d have to figure out how to get through this on my own.
“You all right?”
“Yeah,” I murmured, not meeting his eyes. He had a way of knowing when I was lying.
“Okay. I’m going to go grab us some food to snack on, and then I’ll be right back.” He placed a quick kiss on the back of my hand, opened the door, and hopped o
ut of the car. “Lock the doors.”
He didn’t have to tell me twice. As soon as he got out again, I locked all of the doors and settled back into the seat. I sat in silence for a moment, just thinking and enjoying the feeling of letting my eyes rest. I felt bad for unloading all of my problems onto Austin. He deserved so much more than I could offer him. He didn’t need to take care of me and my problems. Seriously, what guy has to constantly deal with the fact that his fiancée claims to see her demented, imprisoned mother on a daily basis? As I let myself drift back to sleep, a high-pitched noise that faintly reminded me of nails on a chalkboard echoed through the car, making me nearly jump out of my skin. My eyes snapped open as the sound grew more shrill and then squeaky. I whipped my head to the left, looking out the window closest to me. A scream tore from my throat as I hastily undid my seatbelt and backed into the driver’s seat.
There she was, standing less than a foot away from me. We were separated by only a locked car door.
Her pale face was cocked to the side, and she bent forward to peer into the window. Greasy black hair spilled into her face, causing her choppy bangs to partially shade her eyes from me. I didn’t need to see them to know they were darkened with hatred, like they always had been when I was growing up. Her mouth hung open slightly as her chipped, yellow nails scraped at the window.
My heart slammed against my ribcage when she began tugging at the door. Even though I knew it was locked, I was still frightened. Her gaze met mine, and her features softened slightly.
When I leaned farther away from the window, she frowned, then rearranged her features into a sinister smile again. She squinted her coal black eyes at me and tilted her head to one side, exposing her pale neck that was covered in crisscrossed cuts.
13 Night Terrors Page 4
