Box of Terror (4 book horror box set)

by Michael Bray

  “Be careful. More steps here.”

  Garrett’s whispered voice drifted to them as they moved further into the darkness. The second set of steps were even narrower and steeper than the first as they went deeper than the foundation of the supermarket. Now they could see thick, gnarled tree roots curving in and out of the walls, and could feel the pressure of the weight of the building above their heads.

  Still, they descended— a terrified conga line holding on to each other in the darkness. Even Bernard had withdrawn slightly, some of his inherent crazy replaced by fear as the group inched deeper.

  “I thought you said there was a way out. We seem to be going straight down,” Cody croaked, his voice high-pitched and frightened.

  “Keep it down, damn you,” Bernard hissed.

  Still, they went on, feeling their way through the claustrophobic tunnel and the ever increasing foul stench. The darkness eventually began to give way to a dull orange glow, the flicker of light subtle at first then slowly growing in intensity as they neared, so that at last they could see where they were walking.

  “Okay,” said Garrett breathlessly as he came to a halt and turned to face them. “Try not to look too closely at anything in here, okay? For your own good.”

  Nobody answered, and he took their silence for agreement. He led them on.

  The tunnel opened up into a huge round antechamber which had been carved out of the earth. Around its perimeter hundreds of candles flickered and danced, casting grotesque shadows across the uneven walls. The chamber floor was covered in human remains. Many were only bones, picked clean and stark white. Others still had skin and were brown and leathery; the half-eaten cadavers partially mummified. Worse than all of those were the fresh bodies. Although perhaps fresh wasn’t the right word, for they were putrid with decay, bloated and ruptured and covered with maggots, which combined with the shadows cast by the flames of the candles, seemed to give them a new, undulating life. The steady drone of flies made a suitable auditory backdrop to the scene, which was only slightly less disgusting than the rancid ammonia smell, which was almost unbearable.

  In what appeared to be a grisly form of decoration, fully formed human skins were stretched around the room, tied to each other at the arms and feet in some kind of primitive wall covering.

  “Sweet Jesus in heaven,” Bernard muttered, the gun forgotten and hanging limply at his side.

  “This must be where they feed,” Garrett said quietly, picking his way through the tangle of corpses that covered the floor. “Come on. It’s this way.”

  They followed in silence. Across the room was another narrow tunnel, which was cut from the earth. Garrett paused by the entrance and waited for the group to pick their way through the corpse littered ground and join him. There was a heavy silence broken only by the soft sound of Leena’s weeping.

  “This is our way out,” he said, looking at their haunted faces as they gathered around. Bernard strode over, poking his head into the tunnel and glaring at Garrett.

  “This one goes even deeper. I told you not to screw with me,” he raged, pointing the gun at Garrett’s head.

  “Relax. Hold your hand out.”

  Bernard eyed him mistrustfully, and then did as Garrett asked, holding his non-gun arm over the tunnel entrance.

  “Do you feel it?”

  “Yes,” Bernard replied, his small smile growing into a relieved grin. “Yes, I do. A god-damn breeze!”

  “Exactly. Our way out.”

  “Perhaps,” Bernard said, his smile melting away. “You first. Go down there and make sure.”

  “Are you crazy?” snarled Garrett. I did everything you asked. I’m done.”

  Bernard took a step forward and shoved the barrel in Garrett’s face.

  “You’re done when I say you’re done. Now go.”

  “No. If you want to get out, then you take the lead. I’m through.”

  “I’m in charge here,” Bernard snapped, his words reverberating off the walls.

  “Actually, I’m the administrator of this facility.”

  As a group they turned to see Nicu standing by the steps, arms folded in front of him. His face was covered in blood from the frenzy in the market.

  Bernard let out a high-pitched whine, which built into a horrified scream, and fired off five consecutive shots at Nicu, emptying the weapon, but this time it wasn’t with the same cold assurance with which he had killed Lee, but the wildfire of a frightened and cornered man, and as a result every shot missed its target. Nicu didn’t even move. Bernard carried on trying to fire even though the gun was empty, and as his scream petered out, and he realized what had happened, he lowered the weapon, breathing heavily and staring at Nicu.

  “This could all have been avoided,” Nicu said pleasantly as if the incident with Bernard hadn’t even happened.

  “All of the bloodshed. All of the…petty violence. It’s all so…Neanderthal.”

  He walked towards them, the tangle of corpses at his feet doing nothing to slow his graceful approach.

  “We have to run. We have to go now!” Donald said, grabbing Leena by the arm. Nobody moved. Everyone was rooted to the spot, perhaps in fear, or hopelessness or the sheer magnetism which poured from Nicu as he watched them with calm assurance. He seemed more at home here, more comfortable in this chamber surrounded by the remains of the dead than upstairs in the supermarket.

  He smiled as he walked among them hands clasped behind his back, and Garrett was again astounded at how regal he appeared.

  “In a way, it’s such a shame. Mr. Garrett did almost lead you to the way out. That passage, so close yet so far, does indeed lead to the freedom you so crave. Sadly, it is a freedom you will not taste. Not all of you at least.”

  The butcher, huge and barrel chested, lumbered out of the tunnel, almost completely filling it as he stood at the entrance with his arms folded. The group watched with dismay as the rest of Nicu’s staff walked down the steps from the supermarket, their footfalls making no sound whatsoever as they joined him in the circular chamber. Nicu walked toward the group, looking at each of them in turn. He paused in front of Garrett.

  “You brought them so close, Mr. Garrett, so very close to their freedom.”

  Nicu stood back and looked at the rest of the group, and that horrible, knowing smile reappeared.

  “Do they know their deaths have paid for your freedom?”

  All eyes fell on Garrett, who in turn lowered his gaze. Nicu grinned and clapped his hands together.

  “Ahh, the sweet moment of realization. Tell them, Mr. Garrett, of our arrangement.”

  Garrett couldn’t face them. Instead, he remained silent and tried to ignore the bitter taste of guilt which was almost as sour as the hostile and disbelieving stares of the group. Nicu was enjoying the moment, grinning as he walked leisurely among them.

  “Since Mr. Garrett seems reluctant to divulge exactly what I refer to, then perhaps you will allow me to explain on his behalf.”

  “Don’t… please…” Garrett said, still gazing at the floor and wishing it would open up and swallow him. Nicu smiled and continued.

  “When Mr. Garrett came to see me earlier, we had a discussion, as you know, about your freedom. However, what he neglected to inform you is there was more to our discussion than he chose to divulge…”

  There would be no quelling it this time. No quenching for the guttural outburst of terror which was about to project itself, and he dimly thought if he allowed it to escape, then he would surely die. He brought his hand up to his mouth and bit down hard, hard enough to see white spots dance in front of his eyes. However, it served its purpose, and instead of a scream, he let out an anguished groan. Nicu seemed satisfied, and with agonizing leisure reverted back to his more normal self. He looked at Garrett with a teasing half-smile and leaned close. Garrett couldn’t help but flinch away.

  “I think now you understand the futility of any uprising, Mr. Garrett. Now go. Go and tell your people their fate is decided. T
ell them you have until midnight to decide who will be given to us.

  “What if I want to make a deal? For my own freedom,” Garrett asked, forcing himself to lock eyes with Nicu, who in turn clapped his hands together and threw his head back in laughter.

  “Wonderful! What do you propose?”

  “I have a group with me,” Garrett said, knowing he had no choice now but to bargain for himself. “Small right now, but they’re looking to me as a leader. They trust me. If you give me some time, I can get more, maybe five or six in all.”

  “And all you wish for in exchange is your own freedom?”

  Garrett nodded, feeling his gut tighten as he went on.

  “I have a family. If it means stepping on a few people I barely know, then I’m fine with that. I’ll do whatever it takes to get back to my wife. As I said, they trust me. I can use that.”

  “Very good, Mr. Garrett! Very good indeed!” Nicu said, obviously enjoying the unexpected turn of events.

  “Look, I’m not thrilled about it, but I’ll do what I have to if it means I get out of here. How do you want me to do it?”

  Nicu thought for a moment, pressing his index fingers together and tapping them against his lips.

  “The most obvious way is a staged escape, I would think. Perhaps through our butchery preparation area? Guide as many as you can into the catacombs below the supermarket. Take them to the room below the sub-basement and you shall have your freedom. You shall not be harmed, nor stopped or obstructed by any of my staff, although it would be in your interests to behave appropriately in order to ‘sell' the illusion. Are we in agreement?”

  Nicu held out a wiry, long-fingered hand, which Garrett shook cautiously. He expected it to be cold, but Nicu’s skin was surprisingly warm – another vampire myth dispelled.

  “I’ll do it,” Garrett grunted. “I’d ask for a guarantee, but I suppose I have to take you on your word here.”

  “Yes. I’m afraid you will need to show a little faith, Mr. Garrett. Just like the faith, your friends showed in you,” Nicu replied, enjoying the way Garrett squirmed as he said it.

  “I still don’t understand. What’s in it for you when you can obviously just kill us all anyway whenever you choose?”

  Nicu shrugged.

  “We are not a greedy race. We take only what we need to. Besides, in our experience, flesh that has tasted even the faintest glimmer of hope is all the sweeter. It gives a certain…delicate flavor.”

  “But that still doesn’t explain why you have agreed to let me live.”

  “Isn’t it obvious, Mr Garrett?”

  “No.”

  “It’s quite simple. I believe this world is a much better place with people such as yourself in it. A man who will give away the lives of people who trust him without a thought for their wellbeing in order to save himself is both rare and…refreshing.”

  Nicu grinned, but Garrett remained stony faced.

  “I don’t care about any of that. Just get me out of here alive, and I'll deliver you the people. Just make sure your staff knows not to tear us to pieces before I can get them to the sub-basement. I’m sure you appreciate convincing them won’t be easy.”

  Nicu began to laugh. “And they call us monsters!”

  Garrett didn’t reply. He remained stony faced as he fought with the moral consequences of his decision.

  “Very well, Mr. Garrett. We are in agreement. Go now and do as you will. Get the rest of your group to the catacombs. Give them their hope and you will earn your freedom.

  “What about the door in the butchery. The metal one for deliveries. I saw it earlier. They’ll want to try for that. I need to be able to convince them to go to the sub-basement with me.”

  “Don’t worry about the door. It will be secured.”

  “And the butcher?”

  “He won’t trouble you, although it may be beneficial for you to keep the threat of him close to ensure they follow your lead.”

  “All right,” Garrett said, standing on legs which felt like they would collapse under him. “Then we have an agreement. Give me some time to convince them.”

  “Very good, Mr Garrett. I look forward to watching this scenario unfold.”

  Betrayal.

  The guilt hurt Garrett a lot more than he could ever have imagined. All along he had convinced himself he could go through with it and live with his decision, but now that he had, he found he was unable to look any of them in the eye. Even Bernard had peeled away into the main group and was glaring at him in disbelief, leaving Garrett standing alone.

  “Look, I’m sorry…” he said, then let the words fade to nothing. He wanted to explain, to make them see his reasons, but there were no more words that seemed suitable. No matter how he tried to angle it, there was no justification, no explanation he could give other than selfish ones. He looked at them, and each time he made eye contact felt like a hammer blow.

  “Donald, I…”

  Donald spat in Garrett’s face, his eyes glaring and fierce. Nicu watched it unfold, amused as Garrett wiped the mucus from his eyes.

  “You’re worse than them, Ray. At least they’re honest.” He growled as Helen grasped his arm.

  “I had no choice…”

  “There’s always a choice!” Donald raged. “I just hope your conscience can live with what you’ve done, you son of a bitch.”

  Garrett was desperate to explain, to do anything to ease the guilt which raced through him. He lowered his head and found even the corpse-littered floor was easier to look at than the accusing eyes of the group.

  “And so," said Nicu cheerfully, “I believe that concludes our business. I am a man of my word, Mr. Garrett. And as I said, to deny the world of somebody with your unique brand of selfishness would be a crime. So go. Go to your freedom. A prize you have truly earned.”

  Nicu gave the briefest of nods to the mountain-sized butcher, who immediately stepped out of the tunnel and moved aside.

  “Go down the tunnel,” Nicu said as Garrett paused at the threshold.

  “You will eventually surface through a sewer outlet pipe by the river. From there, go back to your life. Live well and enjoy the fruits of tonight’s labour. But take warning.” Nicu leaned close, his face by Garrett’s, his breath hot in Ray’s ear. “You may feel the urge to tell people of what has happened here tonight, and that is your decision to make. But know this.”

  Nicu stepped back and held up a warning finger.

  “Even though you are free, we will always be watching you. Just remember, our kind has infiltrated every level of your society. You will never know who it is safe to talk to, who you can trust, or who you can rely on. I wouldn’t like to think I have made a mistake in allowing you to live.”

  “I already told you. All I want is to be with my family. Besides, I have too much blood on my hands as it is to ever be able to tell anyone about this. I just want to go home.”

  Nicu nodded. “Then go. Go into the world, Mr. Garrett, and enjoy the gift I have given you.”

  “Gift?”

  “The gift of appreciation.”

  He smiled, and stroked Leena’s trembling cheek with a long, bony finger.

  “I don’t understand what you mean.”

  “You have tasted death. You have seen a small glimpse of another world that lives in secret alongside your own. From this day forth, you will appreciate every waking moment of what remains of your life, because you know intimately how fine the balance is between what you will have, and what could have been.”

  There was so much that Garrett wanted to say, so much he wanted to explain to the people that had thought of him as a friend, people he had then betrayed in the worst possible way. However, there were no words. Not that he knew, or would be able to articulate if he did. He stepped into to the tunnel and then turned back to Nicu.

  “How many of you are there in the world. Your people, I mean?”

  Nicu grinned, showing a glimpse of his pointed second set of teeth as his family members
moved towards Garrett’s group.

  “There are more than you might think, Mr. Garrett. You might not recognize the name above the door, but every city has a Grueber’s, in purpose if not in name. You should bear that in mind.”

  Garrett nodded and then turned back towards the tunnel, careful not to make eye contact with his group. He took a deep breath, and even though it went against every fiber of his being, entered its dark maw. He walked, and hoped he would be far enough away not to hear it when it happened, but he was wrong, and as those wet tearing sounds and agonized screams bounced from the walls around him, he found himself walking faster and then breaking into a loping run. He was not a religious man, but he prayed anyway. Prayed Nicu stuck to his word. Prayed that when the screams silenced, Nicu wasn’t still hungry. Prayed he could trust the word of a foul, unearthly creature not to dangle the carrot of freedom in front of him, and then hunt him down and tear him limb from limb anyway, because hope made the meat sweeter. Right now it was all Garrett had. He could still hear the screams reverberating off the tunnel walls, and he wondered absently why they were still so loud despite his progress into the black depths. It was only then he realized the screams were coming from him.

  Garrett lowered his head and started to sprint.

  SOMETHING IN THE DARK

  HE HEARD IT slithering out of the basement. Impossible as it was, the sound was easy to pick out in the utter stillness of the house. It was impossible because Billy had shot the man in the Trans Energy uniform in the face from close range, sending his body tumbling down there in the first place. But now he was back, and Billy had neither ammo nor the strength left to run. In the movies, the hero always had a plan, always had an idea, but in reality, there was only the cold grip of fear and the certainty his life was now almost certainly over.

  As he cowered in the darkness behind the sofa, his broken arm and shoulder throbbing in agony, he was grateful at least Tyler and Angeline would be safe, no matter what was about to happen to him.