Box of Terror (4 book horror box set)

by Michael Bray

  He could hear it now, the thing from the basement, dragging itself across the kitchen tiles towards where he hid. As if that idea wasn’t surreal enough, it had started to whistle that tune again. The one he was sure was from an old movie or TV show but couldn’t quite place, only now it was garbled and wet, a sloppy, half slurped expulsion of air.

  He knew it was empty, but he checked the gun hanging limply in his one good hand anyway, wishing he had saved a bullet for himself. But hindsight was a wonderful thing, and for as much as he could wish to go back and change things, he couldn’t, because what was done was done, and what would be would—

  Silence.

  The slithering and whistling had stopped, but instead of relief, it brought fresh terror raging through Billy, as he would rather hear it and know where it was, than not hear it and risk it sneaking up on him. He checked the perimeter of the room, wishing for the lights to come back on, wishing those shadow draped corners were visible enough to give up their secrets. Most of all, he wished he had told his wife and son he loved them before he had sent them away. He supposed they knew, but he still didn’t say it nearly often enough, and if by some miracle he survived this, he promised himself he would make sure that changed.

  A thud from the hallway snapped him back to the present, and he licked his lips, which were dry despite the sweat which was pouring out of him. He knew the man in the Trans Energy uniform was outside the door. He just knew. Billy tightened his grip on the gun, ignoring the little voice in his head told him it was now useless, re-reminding himself it had been useless even when fired at point blank range because the thing in the cellar had taken it, and come back anyway.

  He fought the urge to scream as the door creaked open, and the slithering thing entered. He had just about succeeded when it started to whistle again, that wet throaty sound which re ignited his horror, as it sounded even more disgusting from a few feet away. As he cowered, Billy asked himself the same question that had been racing through his mind since the entire thing began.

  Why did this happen to us?

  ~ I ~

  The power went out just after three in the afternoon. Billy had been at his computer, finding new and inventive ways to distract himself from the presentation which he needed to finish before he went into work on Monday.

  “Billy!” Angeline shouted from downstairs.

  “I know, I know, I’m on my way.” He yelled back, giving the computer a sour glare as he jogged downstairs. His wife was waiting at the bottom, their three year old son, Tyler cradled against her.

  “This is the third time this month Billy.” She said as he paused to kiss his son on the head. He flicked the hallway light switch on and off then on again, not sure what he was expecting.

  “I know, but they said they had fixed it last time.”

  “I told you coming here was a bad idea.” She said, giving him that look he had grown to hate.

  “We agreed this was the right thing to do.”

  “Why here? Why in the middle of nowhere?” She whispered, not wanting to alert Tyler to their disagreement.

  Because you decided to fuck your boss.

  The words almost came, and part of him wished they had, but he didn’t have the strength for another argument. Far too many of those had already happened.

  “Look, we both agreed we needed this. It’s a new house, gremlins should be expected.”

  “I hate it here.” She said, glaring at him with a mixture of hurt and anger.

  “We knew this was never going to be easy.” He replied as he stroked his son's head. “But we committed to making this work, to putting things right. Let’s not let something as minor as a power outage come between us, okay?”

  “Well, for what this place cost us, it should be problem free.” She shot back, readjusting Tyler on her hip. Billy looked at his son, who responded with a torrent of toddler babble.

  “It’s probably the breakers again. I'll go check it out.”

  He looked her in the eye, hoping the woman he had fallen in love with was still there somewhere, and one day he might find her again. But he felt only the disgust and hurt at what she had done, and quickly looked away and walked towards the basement door.

  “I don’t know why this happens so much here.” She called after him. “We never had this problem in the old house.”

  Once again, the desire to point out the reason for their move leapt into his throat, but he managed to swallow it back down.

  Not now, not again. Let us get through one day without a goddamn argument.

  “I guess it’s the price of living out here in the countryside.” He said over his shoulder as he opened the door, trying to diffuse the situation before it escalated into yet another blazing argument. He eyed the hook on the back of the door.

  “Did you move the torch from here?”

  “I haven’t touched it.”

  “You sure?”

  “I already told you, I don’t know where it is. Jesus Billy, you just don’t listen.” She hissed as she glared at him.

  He turned his gaze back to the empty hook on the door. He was finding it harder and harder these days to look his wife in the eye.

  “Well, it must be somewhere!” He said balling his fists and showing her the empty hook, and realising Tyler was looking at him, he took a deep breath. “What I mean is, are you sure you didn’t give it to Tyler to play with?”

  “Yes. I’m sure.”

  She was giving him the usual semi silent treatment now, responding with short, to the point answers. It was a familiar territory. “Try the kitchen.” She added.

  Ignoring the sarcastic tone in her voice, he closed the basement door and started looking through kitchen drawers, which were filled with clutter.

  “You know, I just wish things would get left where I put them. Every time I put something somewhere, somebody moves it.” He muttered.

  “And by someone you mean me?” Angeline said, putting Tyler down on the floor. As was the way with small children, as soon as his legs touched terra firma, he was away, a three-year-old whirlwind of destruction.

  “I didn’t say that.” He said as he pushed aside old letters and rolls of tape. “I hate having to search for things.”

  “Well, if you put things back where they belonged, you wouldn’t have to look would you?”

  He was about to make a below the belt comment about her affair when he saw the torch, which was in the cupboard under the sink wedged between two pans. He snatched it up and turned to his wife.

  “Well, either our son has grown tall enough to get this off the back of the basement door, or he’s been allowed to play with it.”

  “It’s not my fault if you left it where he can get it.”

  “Jesus, it’s always the same with you, it’s never your fault is it?”

  “This isn’t my fault!” She said, lighting a cigarette with shaking hands.

  “No, it never is, is it?” He replied, half glad he had said it, and regretful at the same time.

  His words had the desired effect, and he saw her flinch as he walked past her.

  “I better go check these breakers.” He muttered, swinging open the basement door and descending, leaving his cutting words lingering in the kitchen with his wife.

  The basement was a long L-shaped room which was full of boxes of things they still hadn’t unpacked. The air down there was dry and musty, and particles of dust swirled in the torch beam as he made his way through the haphazardly stacked maze of bric-a-brac. Although he wasn’t a man who was easily afraid, even he had to admit the basement had a certain eeriness when illuminated only by the beam of his flashlight. He made his way to the breaker box at the end of the room, and not for the first time, started to ask himself if they should have just parted ways after he found out about the affair.

  She had insisted it was a drunken one-time thing at the works Christmas party, but that didn’t make it any easier to swallow. His response, fuelled by anger, frustration, and betrayal was to return th
e favour. Rather than a satisfying act of revenge, his affair was an awkward fumbling thing with a woman he barely knew and even now, he couldn’t remember. Although he regretted it deeply now, at the time it made him feel better about what she had done.

  They had tried – mainly for Tyler’s sake – to stay together, but it was becoming clear they were papering over the cracks, and no matter how strong it is, wallpaper will never be strong enough to hold up crumbling foundations.

  For his part, he had tried hard to forget what had happened and get things back to normal, but resentment was still there. Sure enough, it was buried deep, but that only helped it to grow and fester, spreading like a cancer. He hoped one day to make the darkness within him dissolve. Right now, it wasn’t looking too good.

  Billy took a moment to look at the breaker box, then flipped open the panel. All of the switches were still in the upright position. He powered them all off and back on again anyway.

  “Anything?” He shouted over his shoulder.

  “No, still nothing.” Came Angeline’s muffled reply.

  “Great.” He muttered to himself as he closed the box and made his way back upstairs. She was waiting at the top of the steps, still unable to look him in the eye. Instead, she studied her shoes as she put the torch on the kitchen table and closed the basement door.

  “It’s not the breakers. I better give the power company a call and see if they can get someone out here.”

  “It will be getting dark soon, Tyler will need feeding, and we have no heat or...”

  “I know! I know!” He snapped, crossing the room towards the fridge.

  “Hey, did you move the card with the number of the power company on it?”

  “No. it was right there on the fridge the last time I saw it.”

  Billy looked at the front of the refrigerator. It was covered in magnetic letters Tyler often rearranged to make gibberish words. On the upper door were the magnetic photograph frames containing snapshots of a life before affairs and mistrust and bickering. And there, next to it was the Budweiser magnet behind which the card for the power company had been placed after the first power outage.

  “It’s not here.” He said, then glanced over at his son, who was busy making some kind of fort out of the sofa cushions.

  “Looks like our son, the architect has decided to relocate.” He said, smiling and trying to lighten the mood. It almost worked, and Angeline responded with a flicker of a smile, which at least served to break the tension.

  “What will we do now?”

  “I think we have a leaflet with the details on.” He muttered, heading back to the kitchen and to the drawers, he had already rummaged through and started again. Angeline didn’t respond, and for that, he was grateful.

  He leafed through the drawer full of crap for the second time and was about to give up when he found the leaflet stuffed between a stack of old bills. He pulled it out and straightened it.

  TRANS - ENERGY

  Proud providers of power to Oakwell.

  Service like it used to be!

  He grimaced as he looked at the garish green font on red background. The graphic designer in him couldn’t help it. Even when he was an intern, he would never come up with something so cheap looking. He held up the leaflet like a hard won trophy.

  “Got it. I’ll give them a call.” He said, pushing his way through the kitchen door to stand on the back step. From here, he had a wonderful view of the rolling fields which surrounded the house. In the distance, he could just about make out the faded red sidewall of the barn belonging to their nearest neighbour, Mr. Conwell.

  Enjoying the warmth of the sun on his face and getting away from the awkward atmosphere in the house, Billy fished his Samsung out of his pocket and punched in the number from the flyer. As he waited to be connected, he glanced up to the thunderheads in the distance. The wind was only light right now, but it was definitely pushing them towards the house. He only hoped the power company could get someone out to them before dark.

  ~II~

  Angeline was making Tyler a sandwich when Billy came back in from outside.

  “What did they say?” She asked, acting as if the near argument had never even taken place.

  “They are going to get someone out as fast as they can.”

  “Why do I get the feeling that’s not all?” She said as she cut the crusts off the bread.

  “Well, they said they can’t guarantee a timescale, only that it will be within twenty four hours.”

  “We can’t wait that long. Did you tell them it’s an emergency?”

  “I did. That’s their standard emergency response time apparently.”

  “That’s bullshit. What are we going to do? You know how Tyler is with the dark.”

  “I know, I thought about that, and I have an idea. Why don’t you pack a bag and take Tyler over to your mother’s for the night.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’ll stay here and wait for the power company to come out. They will need to get inside the house to fix the problem I expect”

  “You can’t stay here without any power,” She said, looking out of the window. He could see on her face she was trying to gauge how long until it would be dark.

  “Look, it's fine, really. It's just one night. Hell, they might even get here before dark and you can come back home if you want. I would feel better if I knew the two of you were warm and safe.”

  Plus I could use the break away from you.

  Although tempted, he didn’t say it. He had avoided one major argument already today and didn’t want to push his luck. To his surprise, she walked towards him and hugged him tightly. It felt more awkward than it should, but he went through the motions of returning the gesture.

  “I’m sorry.” She said against his chest.

  “It’s okay.” He lied.

  “I want things to go back to how they were before... I get frustrated, that’s all.”

  He said nothing and stroked her hair.

  “We'll get there, I promise.”

  He hated himself for saying it, because, in truth, he had no idea if they would be okay or not.

  “I know you gave up a lot to move us out here. More than I deserve. I… I don’t mean to get angry all the time.”

  “I did some things I’m not proud of either.” He replied, partly on autopilot as the cancer like hate inside him grew a little bit more. “It’s not your fault.”

  The words left a bitter aftertaste, because, in his heart of hearts, he didn’t believe them.

  She pulled away from the hug and looked him in the eye, probably for the first time in recent memory, and for a split second, there was no anger.

  “Make sure you let me know as soon as they arrive and fix the power. Okay?” She said, blinking and reverting to staring at her feet.

  “I will, I’ll just feel better knowing the two of you are safe.” He repeated. “You can’t stay here with Tyler when we have no power.”

  “I’ll go pack a few things. Keep an eye on Tyler for me.”

  She left the room, and as much as he hated himself for it, he felt better without her there. It was as if the heavy atmosphere was attached to her somehow, and whenever she left the room, she took it with her. He walked down the hall to the edge of the sitting room door and watched Tyler playing in his seat cushion fort without a care in the world. He was overcome with such a feeling of unease, he almost decided there and then to forget the house and go with them. He remembered Angeline’s mother, for want of a better word was a miserable old trout, who had looked down on him ever since the affair as if he were the only guilty party, and her daughter couldn’t possibly have done anything wrong. He decided he would rather take his chances in the dark than spend an evening with the in-laws.

  “Come on champ.” He said as he picked Tyler up. “You are going to visit miserable old grandma for a few hours.”

  His son chattered and laughed as Billy looked out of the window. The sun was already lowering in the sky,
turning its blue hue to a yellowish orange. In a few hours, it would be fully dark.

  ~III~

  Tyler was chatting away to himself in his safety seat in the back of the Ford Explorer as Billy helped load the bags into the car.

  “Jesus, its only one night you know.” He muttered as he loaded the last of the bags.

  “Well, I don’t know what I might need for Tyler. He’s still a little bit snotty.”

  “Nice,” Billy said as he closed the car door.

  They stood and looked at each other, and it was hard to ignore the awkwardness that lingered between them. The wind ruffled Angeline’s hair, and Billy felt a flicker of the physical attraction which had once been so intense between them was now non-existent. She caught his eye and smiled as she tucked the wayward hair behind her ear.

  “What is it?” She asked.

  There was so much he wanted to say. He wanted to hold her, to protect her, shake her, scream at her. He wanted to wish away everything that both of them had done to taint their marriage, but the words wouldn’t project passed his throat, and instead he coughed.

  “Nothing, it’s nothing.” He said.

  “Do you have everything you need?”

  “Yeah, beer in the fridge, and plenty of food. Don’t worry, I’m sure this will all be fixed soon.”

  She stepped forward and hugged him, and he held her, feeling that gnawing sense of dread which was becoming harder and harder to ignore. It was the same as when you could taste the energy in the air before a storm came, and as he cast his eye towards the heavens to the deep bruise coloured thunderheads, he thought a storm was a very real possibility.

  “You should get moving.” He said, holding her at arm’s length. “Looks like the weather is about to turn.”

  Angeline looked up to those same purple thunderheads, and for a second, Billy was sure he could see the same uncertainty in her that he felt.

  “Go on, get a move on.” He said, forcing himself to smile as he opened the car door for her.