Tales Of A Dead-End Street_An Extreme Horror Novella

by Sam West

  He wanted to say that he had seen worse. Much worse. He had watched his beloved mother be torn limb from limb, and he knew that the same thing would happen to them if they didn’t get inside right now and lock the doors. But the stupid adults weren’t listening to him, because adults never listened to kids.

  He watched on helplessly, even venturing a little closer, as the guy called Neil straddled Rob’s chest. He proceeded to punch Rob once in the face. His head snapped sideways and a funny oomph sound escaped him, muffled by the mask. Neil leaned down and roughly yanked up the mask, revealing the guy’s face.

  “You pathetic shit, who put you up to this?”

  “No one, God, can’t you take a joke, where’s your sense of humour gone, man? It was just a Halloween prank.”

  His speech was slurred, like he was drunk. Danny couldn’t tell if he was actually drunk or just dizzy from being punched in the face. Somehow, he suspected the latter.

  “No one, huh? This no one wouldn’t happen to be Lauren, would it? I used to think she was alright, but after the way I saw her treat everyone tonight, it’s safe to say that I think she’s a complete bitch.”

  “No. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Oh, you don’t, huh?”

  “Hey! Stop that, get off me…”

  The man started to cry as he tried to bat Neil’s hands away, but Neil continued to slap him across the face, before pinching his cheeks together so that his mouth went all puckered.

  At that moment, the garden-gate swung inwards. Danny’s heart lurched in terror. There were a couple of girls at the gate, but they looked wrong. The way they stood there, so still, watching them, made his skin crawl. One was wearing a skin-tight catsuit that shone in the moonlight, and the other girl wore a red cape, a frilly white blouse displaying lots of cleavage, a flared red miniskirt and long red boots.

  “Aaand speak of the devil,” Neil said, looking up when he heard the squeaking gate.

  “We have to go inside the house,” Danny whispered, but of course, no one was listening to him.

  “Did you put Rob up to this?” Neil called over to the girls, but his question was met by silence. “Joke’s over, Lauren, you can stop with the silent treatment.”

  He climbed off Rob and went over to Jen, putting his arm around her. Sobbing, Rob clambered shakily to his feet and lurched over towards the silently watching girls.

  “No, don’t go over there,” Danny said, but he was so scared his voice came out as a frightened whisper.

  A wave of frustration so strong coursed through him that he reached up and tugged at his hair. The pain of it felt good, reminding him that he was still alive. Before he even knew he was doing it, he opened his mouth and a scream spilled from his lips, wrenched up from his guts in a torrent of misery and terror.

  CHAPTER SIX

  A Few Minutes Earlier…

  “They’ll never fall for it,” Rob said.

  He had her pinned to the front-door with his big body, and Lauren allowed him to lean down and nuzzle her neck. She closed her eyes and imagined that he was Neil.

  It didn’t work, not really, and gently she pushed him away so that she could gaze up at him.

  He looked faintly ridiculous in his new costume; a hooded, floor-length black cloak that completely obscured the pin-striped suit he still wore. The iconic, white mask from the equally iconic horror movie was resting on the top of his head.

  “Put your mask on. Let me see you properly.”

  He pulled the mask down over his face and the black hood hid the back of his head. Suddenly, he didn’t look quite so comical anymore. In fact, he looked down right imposing. The cloak was such that is skimmed the floor, the sleeves designed to look like part of the cloak. They came down past his fingers, but enabled his arms total freedom of movement. Like her own costume, it was far from cheap.

  She laughed softly, and reached for his cock, giving it a gentle squeeze. He looked kind of hot. Maybe later, after they had taught the bitch and Neil a lesson, she would fuck him and make him leave the costume on.

  He stiffened instantly and she withdrew her hand. He groaned softly and reached for her, but she danced out of reach. She knew she was being a prick-tease, and she revelled in that fact. Upstairs, she had wrapped her luscious lips around his cock for all of two seconds before she had made him put on the cloak. There was no way that she going to let him come before he had done what he was supposed to do.

  “Go get ‘em, tiger,” she said. “I’ll join you in ten minutes. They’d better be naked by the time I get there.”

  “Lauren, baby, are we really going to go through with this?”

  His voice was muffled by the mask, and she regarded him with her head cocked to one side.

  “Do you want me or not?”

  “You know I do.”

  “Then go. Now.”

  She barged past him and opened the door. “Good bye, Rob. See you in ten.”

  Without giving him a chance to answer, she playfully swatted his rump through the layers of material, pushed him outside, and shut the door behind him.

  Christ. I thought he was never going to leave.

  She leaned against the door for a second and closed her eyes, relieved to see the back of him and for her plan to be put into motion. Something tickled her forehead and when she reached up to pat her forehead, she felt a wad of hair through her gloved fingers.

  Next to the door was a mirror, and she went over to it, shoving the wayward strands of her sleek, brown bob back under her PVC skull cap. She lingered for a second longer, admiring her exquisite face.

  How the hell could Neil choose her over me?

  Her mask, which obscured her entire head, neck, and nose was an exact replica of Michelle Pfeiffer’s from the 1992 Batman movie. She paused to admire her reflection, tracing a gloved finger over her small chin and wide jaw. Her blue eyes were rimmed with black-eyeliner, her full mouth painted red. She looked like a fucking goddess, and she knew it.

  The music got suddenly deafeningly loud for a second, startling her from her narcissistic musings. She swung round to see Becky framed in the doorway that led to the large, open plan living-space where the party was in full swing,

  “Jesus, Becks, you made me jump.” She frowned. “What’s happened to the music?”

  Becky shrugged and giggled, staggering slightly in her thigh-high, shiny red boots. She shut the door behind her, muffling the music somewhat. It was no longer the edgy, industrial metal that Lauren had chosen for the night, but something that she considered more suitable for a kid’s party.

  It was a graveyard smash, the deep, camp male voice sung from the living-room. The monster mash…

  “Craig put it on,” she slurred. “He thought it would be funny. Liven things up a bit.”

  “Edward Scissorhands?”

  “Yeah. Cute, isn’t he?”

  “Can’t say I noticed.”

  Lauren didn’t recognise him. Of the thirty-odd people in her living-room, she only knew a little over half of them. The rest of them were from Becky’s Sport Science crowd.

  “You wouldn’t, seeing as you’re all gushing over Neil.”

  Ignoring the jibe, Lauren headed for the stairs – she needed to retrieve her phone for the second half of her delightfully diabolical plot to ruin Jen and Neil.

  “Hey, where are you going?” Becky called after her.

  “Nowhere. Don’t you have guys to fuck in there?”

  Becky glared at her. “What are you up to, Lauren? Is Rob up there, cuffed naked to your bed, or something? Come on, spill. You started to tell me in there, I want to know what’s going on. What are you going to do to Neil and his virgin bimbo?”

  “She’s not his virgin bimbo, she’s just some random virgin bimbo who is about to have her time at University tarnished irrevocably.”

  “That’s a big word for a slut in a catsuit.”

  “Fuck off.”

  A lazy smile spread across Becky’s alcohol flushed
face. “That’s the Lauren we know and love.”

  Lauren sighed heavily. There was no harm in telling her, she supposed. “Well, seeing as you ask, Rob has just popped next-door as we speak, and he’s going to…”

  Her words were cut dead by a loud banging on the door.

  “For fuck’s sake,” Lauren said. “Did you invite anyone else?”

  “No, did you? Everyone I invited is here.”

  “Gate-crashers, then.”

  “Or trick or treaters.”

  “Whatever. Just get rid of them, will you?”

  “Why me?” Becky moaned.

  “Because it’s your house, too, bitch. I have to be somewhere in like three minutes, and I need to get my phone from upstairs.”

  Becky stuck out her tongue before striding – albeit a little unsteadily – over towards the door. “If it’s hot guys I’m letting them in,” she called over her shoulder to Lauren.

  “Whatever,” Lauren shouted back, already halfway up the wide staircase which faced the front-door.

  “Alright, alright, I’m coming. Jesus Christ, hold your fucking horses,” Lauren heard her say.

  Then all she could hear was the deep thud of the music as she entered her bedroom, pulled open her bedside drawer and retrieved her smartphone.

  She hurried back down the stairs, her phone clasped in her gloved hand. Becky was standing in front of the opened front-door with her back to her, illuminated by a halo of light thrown off from the brightly-lit hallway. When Lauren approached she twisted round to look at her. Her eyes were wide, her stance a little stiff. Becky was blocking the door, and Lauren couldn’t see around her.

  “Who’s at the door, then,” Lauren asked, irritated at her for making a potential drama about a group of gate-crashers or a bunch of dumb kids trick or treating.

  Just send them on their merry way, for fuck’s sake, she thought.

  Becky stepped to one side to allow Lauren to stand next to her. Lauren did so, fully intending to breeze past whoever was at the door and leave Becky to her silly little dramas.

  She stopped dead in her tracks. Four kids stood on the porch in a tight semi-circle, blocking her path. They wore the most hideous of masks that looked decidedly – and horribly – realistic. Lauren was inexplicably disgusted by those cleverly moulded, latex faces.

  “Sweets…”

  “Give them to us…”

  “We want sweets…”

  Lauren gazed down at them in mounting disgust. She didn’t have time for this shit; she wanted to barge past them in a flurry of distaste, but somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to. Her fear was stopping her.

  “Do we have any sweets?” Becky asked her in a small voice.

  Without taking her gaze off the masked children in their floor-sweeping black cloaks, she replied; “Oh, come on. Look at my figure. Do I look like I have a secret stash of sweets in my room?”

  Lauren was aware of Becky taking a small step backwards. “Maybe we have something in the kitchen cupboard.”

  “What? You’re not actually going off in search of something that you know full well we don’t have?” She glared down at the creepy children. “Sorry, kids, there ain’t no goodies here. Run along, now, have a nice night.”

  She went to shut the door, but when the door was a few inches away from closing, it met resistance. One of the little brats had wedged his foot between door and wall.

  Lauren sighed heavily. “Oh, you guys think you’re real funny, don’t you? Get your bloody foot out my door right now.”

  She spoke with bravado, but her heart was racing and her stomach was somersaulting.

  “Give us sweets now…”

  “They have no sweets…”

  “They want a trick…”

  “Yes, a trick…”

  “Trick or treat…”

  “Give them a trick…”

  Those horrible, rasping voices, part whisper, part growl, overlapped each other in such a way that it made her skin crawl. Becky suddenly gripped her upper-arm, making her wince. But mainly, she was almost shamefully grateful for the comfort of human contact.

  “Go away!” Becky shouted. “We don’t have any sweets!”

  “Fuck this,” Lauren said, indignation overtaking her fear. “I have to be somewhere. You kids need to get the hell off my property.”

  She went to barge through the middle of them, not caring that she was displaying aggression towards a bunch of kids. The little brats deserved it.

  “Don’t go,” Becky gasped behind her.

  But her cries of protest proved futile, for it turned out that Lauren wasn’t going anywhere. The little fuckers closed ranks, and short of jumping over them, Lauren could not pass. Despite their small stature and young age, with their shoulders touching like that they were as rigid and as sturdy as a steel fence.

  “Get out of my way,” she said, taking a step back.

  To her dismay, the little shits shuffled forwards, forcing her and Becky into the hallway. All the while they continued with that rasping whispering.

  “We have a trick for you…”

  “Yes, a trick…”

  “A funny trick…”

  “It will hurt…”

  “It will hurt a lot…”

  “Get the fuck out of my house!” Lauren screamed.

  Next to her, Becky let out a strangled sob. “If you don’t go right now, I’m calling the police.”

  “Yes…”

  “Call them…”

  “Tonight, all calls are being diverted…”

  “Yes, call them…”

  When Lauren’s gaze flickered towards Becky, she saw that she had reached into the neat, little, shiny red shoulder bag which she had slung over one shoulder. She punched in nine, nine, nine, and held the phone to her ear.

  “Hello? Police? We need the police…”

  Abruptly, she stopped speaking, and the phone slipped from her fingers, clattering to the wooden floor.

  “Becky? What is it? Did you get through? Becky?”

  The girl looked dazed, not even turning to look at her.

  “We’re just children…” one of them hissed.

  “What kind of monsters would call the police on children..?”

  “Time for your trick…”

  “Yes, it’s time…”

  The children continued to edge forwards as the two girls continued to edge backwards. Beyond the infernal brats, the front-door was open. Behind her, just to her right, the door to the living -room was closed. The heavy beat of the music curled around her, emboldening her. She stopped edging backwards. She was being stupid. There were over thirty people in this house; what, exactly, did she think was going to happen to her?

  She was just letting her imagination run away with her, allowing herself to be spooked by a bunch of dumb-arse kids.

  “Becky, you need to get a grip,” she said slowly. “Go into the living-room and get one of the guys to come out and help you get rid of these losers because I really have to go, now.”

  “You’re not going anywhere…” one of the hellish children rasped.

  “Stay and play with us…”

  “Stay and get your trick.”

  “Oh, fuck off, you pathetic little shits.”

  Ignoring the prickling fear that tightened the skin of the back of her neck, she simply walked around them in the wide hallway.

  What I should’ve done in the first place.

  Just as she reached the door, she felt fingers clamp around her ankle.

  “What the..?”

  She looked down. One of the little fuckers was crouched down, its gloved hand wrapped around her ankle. Its horrible mask grinned up at her, the eyes behind the tiny eyeholes glinting.

  That’s not a fucking mask. The horrendous thought slammed into her brain, knocking her sick. That’s not a fucking mask, and you knew it all along.

  “Let go of my ankle, you little shit,” she said.

  “Time for you trick, Lauren,” the child whispered.<
br />
  Transfixed, Lauren watched the child’s mouth. From the way the lips moved as he spoke, there was no way it could be a mask. The child’s teeth

  (that thing is no child)

  were pointy, and glistening with saliva.

  Behind her, she became aware of Becky screaming, and sudden movement. The girl lurched for the living-room door, followed by an almighty thump.

  The creatures – for Lauren could no longer convince herself that these things were children – had floored her. Becky lay groaning on the ground as the other three monsters crowded around her.

  Fuck this.

  Adrenalin coursed through her, spurring her into action. With all her strength, she kicked at the thing holding onto her foot, but it – whatever it may be – weighed a fucking ton. It clung resolutely onto her foot, unshakable and solid.

  With a cry of terror, she tried to get to the door, but the thing was a dead weight around her leg.

  “Get the fuck off me,” she cried, crouching over to claw at the monster with her fingers.

  It grinned up at her, its grip tightening. Righting herself, she thrashed in vain, balancing awkwardly on one foot. The position was too much to hold in the stiletto boots. With a shriek, she toppled, smacking onto her side. White stars exploded before her eyes and the air whooshed from her lungs.

  For a moment, all she could do was lie there, winded and in agony. Dimly, she was aware of Becky screaming. The music got suddenly louder, before quietening down a notch to the previous level.

  “What the fuck’s going on out here?” she heard an unfamiliar, male voice shout. “Jesus Christ.”

  All she could do was groan in response. Her limbs felt like lead as her brain slowly – and gratefully – computed the fact that someone had exited the party to help.

  “Call the police,” she tried to say, but the words came out as an incomprehensible slur.

  This simply wouldn’t do. She had to get it together. Through sheer force of will, her blurred vison gradually focussed and air filled her lungs once more. All the while, the sound of Becky screaming filled her ears.

  And the pressure remained on her foot. With a gasp of terror, she lurched upright, to see that grinning thing leering up at her. There was also another one on her other side, and it was stroking her arm. Shuddering in disgust, she tried to scoot away from them on her backside, but the one next to her ceased stroking her and gripped her arm instead. They moved with her, grinning broadly, as if amused by her desire to escape.