He sat in his tattered green recliner nursing a beer, his fourth, waiting for his daughter and wife to come downstairs. It had been close to an hour already. How long could it possibly take to get ready? Not like he knew, but he figured it couldn’t be all that difficult. Footsteps on the stairs brought his attention from the magazine he was reading as the pair descended.
The sparkling blue dress was beautiful and accented Elena’s features. The beaming smile on her face spoke volumes and Jameson didn’t want to ruin her night so he decided not to ask her if she wanted to go through with it still.
“So what do you think?”
Eleanor’s tone was one of pride and joy.
“Beautiful. As always,” Jameson answered with a forced smile.
A knock on the door announced her date and escort. Some football jock that, according to Elena, was very popular and well liked among all the students. Like he gave a shit about the kid and his ability to impress his friends. Jameson stood up and went to the door but was cut off by Elena.
“Please be nice daddy!”
Without answering, he opened the door expecting a tall, muscular jock. His expectations were way off. The boy was under six feet tall, and kind of scrawny with messy brown hair. Thankfully he wasn’t wearing glasses or Jameson would have had a hard time not laughing in his face.
“Good evening Mr. Rifflet. It’s nice to meet you.” Followed by an extended hand.
“You play football?”
The question just slipped out and dripped of disbelief. The boy’s hand fell back to his side and his face reddened. Embarrassed.
“Dad,” Elena groaned, nudging him in the side. “Brock is a receiver not a lineman. He’s fast and has scored eight touchdowns this season.”
Jameson nodded his head in mock approval.
“Eight huh. That’s pretty good.”
A small smile appeared on his face at the acknowledgment. Jameson moved to the side, allowing Eleanor to give her welcome and meet Elena’s date. Falling back into his recliner, he tuned out the conversation that followed. He seemed pretty harmless and the worry that had built up inside Jameson dissipated.
“What time will you be bringing my daughter home?”
“The prom ends at eleven so we should be back here no later than eleven thirty sir.”
“Eleven thirty it is then.”
The couple left giddy and excited to be heading to their senior prom. Jameson moved the curtain to the side and watched Brock open the passenger door for Elena. Good.
Eleanor resumed her knitting.
“Nice boy, don’t you think?”
“Sure,” Jameson replied, turning back to his magazine.
At eleven twenty the sound of a car could be heard pulling up to the driveway. Jameson didn’t want to rush out and intrude on their “date”, if that’s what it was. Ten minutes went by and still Elena hadn’t come in the front door. Pulling aside the curtain revealed an idling car with no motion from it. He could see two figures in the front seats but their shadows weren’t mingling so he wasn’t concerned.
Five minutes later Elena burst through the front door like a freight train and bolted for the stairs.
“Whoa. Stop! Honey, what’s going on?”
She froze at the first step and turned to him. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying and her make-up was smeared on her face. Blood covered the front of her dress and was on her hands.
“Oh my God. What the hell did he do to you?! I’ll kill him!”
Her shaking body was the only response she gave. She let him lower her down to sit on the step and just mumbled.
“Stay here, I’ll be right back,” he said, then shouted upstairs, “Eleanor, get down here quick!”
He didn’t wait for his wife to come down. Grabbing the baseball bat that was resting next to the front door, he stormed out of the house, prepared to break Brock’s legs and eventually neck, muttering to himself the whole way.
“Son of a bitch… little fucker… hurt my daughter.”
The rant stopped when he opened the driver’s side door and the boy’s body spilled out onto the ground. Blood and fluid leaked from the ruined mess where his eyes used to be, and a knife hilt protruded from his chest. This wasn’t what he expected to see. Jameson was confused as he bent down and checked for a pulse. None.
The front door was still open and he could see his wife sitting next to Elena, rocking her back and forth, asking her what had happened no doubt. Elena’s gaze was fixed upon him. She wasn’t in shock because he’d hurt her but because she’d killed him. Jameson was speechless as he walked back into the house and looked down at his daughter. The words came out fast in an endless stream accompanied with tears.
“It wasn’t my fault. I promise. When we pulled into the driveway, Brock kissed me and I was getting ready to say goodnight but he locked the car doors. He wouldn’t let me out. He put his hand down my dress and… and… I think he was going to rape me daddy!”
“Oh my God! Is he still out there Jameson? I’ve got a mind to teach him a thing or two.”
Eleanor’s face reddened in anger and disgust, not knowing that her daughter had taken care of the situation already. Jameson squatted down in front of both of them. He could tell that Elena thought he was mad at her but he wasn’t. He was impressed.
“It’s okay sweetheart. You did the right thing. That son of a bitch had it coming to him. If you hadn’t taken care of the situation I would have.”
Blood covered her fingers from where she’d gouged out his eyes. It didn’t bother him. He hugged them both close to him. Eleanor’s body stiffened in his embrace and he knew it was because she’d finally seen the boy’s body outside. He hugged them tighter.
* * *
“I’m thrilled that you enjoyed the stew. Tell me again how wonderful I am…”
Elena’s hand rested against his cheek. Hearing a cough from behind her she bolted upright and dropped her hand. No reprimand from her father who was looking at her with a gleam in his eyes. He walked over to her and put both hands on her cheeks, wiping a speck of blood away.
“You’re my pride and joy sweetheart.”
Chapter 17
Brutally awakened by the pain radiating out from his shoulders, Warren had lost count of how many times he'd slipped in and out of consciousness. If he had to put a number to it, he'd guess in the neighborhood of six or seven times. The pain was a constant at the present moment and he was going to have to get used to it. It took some effort, but he pushed it to the back of his mind. The throbbing eased slightly.
If he kept his movements to a minimum, the pain abated slightly but it was damn near impossible to keep still. Having your feet hovering four inches above the floor tended to do that. He was waiting for his collarbones to snap under the strain and the hooks to rip out of his flesh. It was a matter of when not if.
Sweat streamed down his body, partly from exertion but also from shock. His heart continued to pound and his chest heaved with each breath.
The creaking of the door hinges caused him to raise his head and squint through the sweat that dripped in his eyes. A woman was standing in the doorway. He waited to see if she would enter but she just stood there as still and silent as a statue.
Warren cleared his throat preparing to call out to her, when she moved. She glided forward slowly, head cocked to the side as if evaluating him, and stopped ten feet away from him. Hope sparked within his chest. This could be his chance at freedom. She didn't have the crazed look about her that the man from earlier had. What did he have to lose by trying?
"Please help me," he pleaded in a soft voice.
She crept closer, tears filling her eyes. She reached up and gently placed her hand against his cheek, closing her eyes. A tear fell from her clenched eyes, soon followed by more. Desperate, Warren tried again to address the part of her that was obviously upset by what was being done to him.
"If you pull that chair over and place it under my feet, I think I can lift myself off of
these hooks," he said, trying to keep his voice calm and neutral.
She gave no indication of having heard him. "Ma’am?"
Chapter 18
There was no way to stop the images and memories from crashing upon her like a rogue tidal wave in her mind, overwhelming her thoughts. The man dangling from the hooks like a worm was an almost exact twin of her father. Eleanor's breath had caught in her throat upon entering the store room as if she'd forgotten how to breathe.
All the good times she'd shared with her father before he'd died at the young age of forty five from a massive heart attack bubbled up to the surface. Trips, places and events that she'd forgotten revealed themselves in their entirety and she let herself get carried away with the memories.
Keeping her hand against his cheek, Eleanor closed her eyes once more and let her father's image take shape. Healthy, in remarkable shape for his age, but smoked like a damned chimney from the age of fourteen which weakened his heart over the years. A distinct and vivid memory formed and separated itself from the rest.
Her father dancing with her in the living room of their home when Eleanor was just ten years old. He was her entire world.
The man's pleas for help caused the image of her father to shimmer and dissolve no matter how much she desired to keep it solid. When he suggested moving the chair over, Eleanor's eyes shot open and she slapped him in the face to shut him up.
It worked.
Taking his hands in hers, she closed her eyes again and moved slowly from side to side, imagining herself dancing with her long dead father. Humming a tune helped transport her back in time to that night in the living room. Eleanor shoved the man's whimpering to the back of her mind and let her imagination take full control. Her father's laughter filled her ears and she could hear her mother encouraging them and singing along with the song. He swung her around the room like a ballerina, dipping her occasionally.
Something dropped onto her hand with a wet plop, rushing her back to the present. A drop of red glistened on her hand. The man's face contorted in pain and he was grinding his teeth together to keep silent.
"You're never getting out of here. I'm so sorry," she whispered.
A creaking floorboard from the doorway and she instantly released his hands as if they'd burned her.
"Having fun are we?"
Chapter 19
Eleanor hurried from the room, head down, avoiding the amused gaze of her husband. Jameson walked over to Warren with a bounce in his step.
"I've got something for you my friend. I got to thinking that you might be somewhat lonely in here and I want you to be as comfortable as possible. Considering the circumstances," Jameson said, touching the hooks. "Would you like some company? Might help to pass the time."
His stinking breath sickened Warren. Summoning the last reserves of strength he had, Warren swung his leg forward and brought it home between Jameson's legs.
Crying out, Jameson dropped to the floor, hands cradling his crotch. The satisfaction and joy Warren received was short lived.
"You... Fuck!" Jameson shouted, spit flying from his mouth. "You're going to regret that."
Wincing, Jameson regained his feet. Splotches of red appeared on his face as he retreated to a safe distance. Well out of Warren's reach.
"Gabe, go ahead and bring his friend in."
A scream of rage left Warren's throat raw as he watched Gabe enter the room, Mac's body draped over his right shoulder. The gaping wound in his neck was a clear indication that he was dead. Gabe dropped him to the floor with a meaty thud.
Obscenities flew from Warren’s mouth in no particular order, coupled with threats of pain and death towards the men that stood before him. Gabe flinched at the tirade and wouldn't look up at the enraged man rocking on the hooks, but Jameson simply drank it all in.
Mac's pale face stared up at the ceiling.
"Could you two please keep him quiet? Customers are beginning to pull into the parking lot."
Gabe picked up a bloody rag and roll of duct tape from his father's work table as Jameson hefted a rusty wrench.
"My pleasure," he said, moving closer to Warren. "We're just getting started here Officer Warren. Consider your partner lucky because you're going to beg for me to kill you before I'm done with you."
Chapter 20
An elderly couple on vacation from South Carolina entered the restaurant, hoping to please their palates with a hot meal. After stopping for gas the woman had hinted that she was hungry and spotted the sign for a place called Hunger Pains down the road a ways. Eleanor greeted them at the door and escorted them to a table with a smile.
"Your waitress will be with you shortly," she said handing them each a menu.
A younger woman was wiping down a table across the restaurant but dropped the cloth upon seeing them get seated. With a skip in her step Elena approached, pad and pen in hand.
"Welcome to Hunger Pains. My name is Elena and I will be serving you today. Can I get you started with a couple of drinks?"
"Two waters please," the old man responded respectfully.
"I'll be right back, and our special today is Jameson's Catch of the Day. If you have any questions about the menu please don't hesitate to ask."
Elena strolled away to get their waters and winked at Gabe who was sitting on one of the counters in the kitchen. He looked through her and didn’t bother with acknowledging her.
"What a lovely young lady. I'm so glad we stopped here Leonard."
Her husband put on his glasses to browse the menu.
"You do know how to pick out the best place to eat Grace. Their menu is definitely unique. I may have to splurge today and get some dessert. I wonder if we can get that for here or to go?"
* * *
"Out of my way. Move!"
He forced his way through the group of people who were chatting away, not caring if he was being rude or not. He even let a comment slide that otherwise would not have been ignored.
Helen, headset on, nodded to him as he approached. Whatever conversation she was in the middle of would have to wait.
"Any word yet?"
She shook her head in response while replying to whatever was being asked to her through the headset. His demeanor must have been easy to read because she quickly ended her call.
"Sorry Captain. It's been over two hours since we heard anything from Officer Warren and we can't reach either one of them on the radio. The patrol unit has been dispatched"
Captain Forde paced back and forth in front of her desk, clucking his tongue. Nervous habit.
"Where was their last known transmission from?"
"Give me one second," she replied, scanning the transcript on her desk. "A restaurant called Hunger Pains."
He didn't recognize the name and stormed off towards his office, stopping next to his secretary's desk.
"I want Ramirez, Jenkins, and Talbot in my office now. We're gonna find out what the hell is going on. Let me know when the patrol unit gets there. And get me any information you can find on a restaurant called Hunger Pains."
To Be Continued...
Order Up Coming in June 2016
Wondering What To Read Next?
First, a big thank you for reading my latest story and I hope it provided you with an escape or get away from the real world for a period of time. I would greatly appreciate it if you would write a review on Amazon. I can’t begin to explain how important reviews are for authors. If you would like to know about future releases, book signings, and get FREE STORIES, join my list and become a Horror Junkie here. Now to more important matters like what story you can devour next. Click on the book titles below to purchase.
Order Up:Available for pre-order soon… In the third book in the horror/thriller series the stakes are higher than ever for the Rifflett family. The police are no doubt aware that something is amiss due to the no response they receive from hailing Officers Warren and Mac. In continuous agony, Warren is haunted by the ghost of his partner, and struggles to maintai
n his grip on reality. Jameson is not going to go down without a fight, and has no regard for the safety of his family. Elena has proven herself to be molded in the image of her father and is eager to prove herself even more than she has in the past. Eleanor continues to find herself under her husband's abusive thumb and control. Gabe has come to the realization that the only way to save himself, sister and mother is to follow through with his plan. A showdown of epic proportions is on the horizon as the police close in on the last location Warren and Mac checked in from: Hunger Pains.
Haunted:Greg Sanders was looking for a fresh start after finding out that his wife had been cheating on him. Fairmont, West Virginia seemed like the perfect place, or is it? The house he finds is stunning and captivating, but evil is stirring. This new beginning may lead to a horrific, deadly end. Greg's faith and strength are pushed to the breaking point. The horror that is awakened in the house will not stop until it has destroyed everything and anyone in it's path.
E.V.I.L. :What happens when a creature of unforeseen horror is given a chance at freedom? What would you do when faced with a creature of immense power, insatiable hunger, and remarkable intelligence? It's only concern is staying near a reliable and plentiful food source. That food source is us!
Dark Horizons: A dark horror collection filled with magic, thrills, and suspense. A boy with extraordinary powers must make a life-altering choice on his thirteenth birthday... An obsessed fan gets a night with her favorite singer... A recovered journal tells the horrors of the apocalypse... A man's gambling debts come calling with a vengeance... and more thrilling stories fill these pages.
For Here or To Go: A Novel of Horror (Our Family Recipe Book 2) Page 4
