Cthulhu's Daughter and Other Horror Tales

by Rhiannon Frater

  “Almost ready, little girl,” Rachel said, tugging the last one into place.

  Rachel grabbed hold of the harness and grabbed her white cane from beside the door. “Let’s hurry. The bus will be here soon.”

  Bonnie licked her muzzle in anticipation and tensed as Rachel opened the front door.

  “Let’s go,” Rachel said.

  Bonnie hesitated, breathing in the scents from outside. There were multiple bad smells out there. She stepped out onto the porch and looked toward the front gate. The street before the house was empty. The sky was gray as morning crept over the hills to push back the darkness.

  Rachel stumbled slightly behind her and pulled at her backpack irritably. “Nothing is going right this morning.”

  Bonnie’s nose twitched. She caught that terrible scent nearby. The dog stopped in her tracks and decided it was time to take a stand. Planting her four paws apart, she refused to move.

  “Bonnie, c’mon. Let’s go!” Rachel tugged at the harness.

  Bonnie held fast, not budging an inch. She wasn’t sure where that terrible smell was coming from. It was hard to track with the wind ricocheting off the trees and buildings around her, disrupting the scent.

  “Dammit, Bonnie!” Rachel kept pulling on the harness, her expression desperate. “I can’t be late to class. I’m going to miss the bus! C’mon!”

  Bonnie began to pull backwards, trying to get Rachel into the house.

  “Fine! I can do this myself!” Rachel abruptly let go of the harness. “I’ll go by myself, Bonnie. Okay! I can do this. I can!” Rachel turned on her heel and tapped at the walkway with her cane. “I’m going, Bonnie! You’re being a bad dog!”

  Bonnie whined, hoping Rachel would understand she was being a good dog. She was trying to take care of her.

  Rachel reached the gate and began to unhook the latch.

  Bonnie barked with agitation, but her owner determinedly stepped out of the gate and onto the sidewalk.

  The dog rushed after her mistress, skirted out of the gate just before it shut, and shoved herself up against Rachel.

  Despite her anger, Rachel sighed with relief and grabbed hold of the harness. “Thank you, Bonnie. Thank you.”

  Bonnie licked Rachel’s hand, then hurried her down the broken sidewalk toward the corner. The bus stop was just one block away and she needed to get Rachel on the bus. Something very bad was nearby.

  When they rounded the corner, Bonnie was glad Rachel couldn’t see otherwise she may have screamed, and that would have been a bad thing. A group of people were gathered around a car, pulling at a woman and man inside. Blood was all over the humans and Bonnie could smell death in the car. The nasty people shoved big chunks of meat into their mouths. The sound of the morning traffic just a block away muted the sound of the feast.

  The bus stop lay in the opposite direction from the bloodied people. Bonnie picked up the pace, pulling Rachel along behind her. She thought about going back to the house, but Rachel would fight her and get upset. That would draw attention.

  Bonnie glanced behind her warily to see the bizarre smelling humans were still gathered around the car. The dog tried to speed up, but Rachel struggled a little behind her.

  “We’re going to miss the bus, aren’t we? Do you hear it? Is that why we’re rushing?” Rachel asked.

  Bonnie winced and immediately looked behind them. A bloodied young man, his eyes murky with death, was just coming around the street corner when Rachel spoke. He heard her and turned to look toward the dog and his companion. The man that was dead, yet not, let out a screech that made Bonnie start in fright.

  He charged toward them.

  Bonnie broke into a run.

  Rachel nearly fell, but managed to get her feet under her and follow. “Bonnie! What is it? What’s that noise? Bonnie!”

  Bonnie let out a sharp bark and tried to maneuver Rachel over the more even parts of the sidewalk, but Rachel kept stumbling and that messed up man was getting closer. Bonnie could hear his growls and his heavy footfalls.

  Then she heard another sound. A better sound. It was the bus!

  “Bonnie, the bus! It’s the bus!” Rachel exclaimed. She was breathing hard, but she was running as fast as she could, trusting Bonnie completely to guide her to safety.

  Bonnie could hear the hisses and growls of the deranged creature. The dead, but not dead man was almost on them. Bonnie dared a look behind her and was horrified to see other bloodied, messed-up people running toward them, too.

  “Bonnie! Bonnie! I’m so scared!” Rachel cried.

  Rachel’s foot caught the edge of the sidewalk and fell. She managed to land on one knee and the palms of her hands. Rachel was pushing herself up off the sidewalk when the bloodied man grabbed her.

  Bonnie twisted about and attacked. Bonnie drove her body into his legs, knocking him aside. His hands gripped Rachel’s backpack, trying to drag her to the ground. Rachel managed to get her arms free of the pack and scrabbled away. Unable to see, she held out her hands in front of her, lost and unsure in which direction she should go. Bonnie immediately rushed to Rachel’s side and nudged her. Rachel screamed, then realized it was Bonnie. She grabbed the harness and together they ran.

  The big bus was rumbling down the street. Bonnie could smell it and hear it distinctly. Inside was safety for her and Rachel.

  “I can hear it! I can hear it!” Rachel gasped.

  They were almost to the corner. Bonnie began to bark shrilly as the bus roared toward them. Bonnie willed the big green beast to stop. One of the dead things was following her and Rachel.

  Inside the bus were people. People who didn’t smell weird, but smelled of sweat, soap, perfume, food and fear.

  “Don’t stop! Don’t stop!” a man’s voice shouted inside the bus. “There’s one right behind her!”

  “Stop! Stop!” other voices cried out.

  “Please stop!” Rachel screamed.

  The doors began to open despite the protests of someone inside. The dead thing was almost close enough to grab Rachel. Bonnie ran Rachel right up to the stairs. She saw Derrick inside, reaching forward to grip Rachel’s hand.

  Satisfied that Derrick was going to help Rachel, Bonnie yanked free of Rachel’s grasp and launched herself into the dead man about to grab Rachel. The thing howled as her body drove him away from Rachel and the bus.

  The dead thing kicked Bonnie savagely and Bonnie yelped in pain. The growling dead man leaped toward Rachel as she was dragged into the bus, his mangled hands reaching for her. Bonnie’s claws skittered on the asphalt. She got some traction and launched herself at him again. Grabbing him by the seat of his pants, her teeth bit into the fabric and his soft flesh, and she wrenched him backwards onto the ground.

  The bus lurched forward and Bonnie heard Rachel scream her name.

  The dog glanced over her shoulder at the bus roaring away, then back toward the creatures racing toward her. The creature beside her climbed to his feet and ran after the bus.

  “Run, Bonnie, run!” the dog faintly heard Rachel screaming.

  Bonnie realized the dead, but living things didn’t want her. They wanted Rachel and the others. Rachel still needed her.

  With a growl, Bonnie rushed after the bus. She knew where the next bus stop was. If she could get there, maybe the bus would stop for her and then she could take care of Rachel.

  Bonnie had never run so fast in her life. Her four paws powerfully hit the ground, propelling her forward. She raced past the bloody man chasing the bus and kept running. She could hear the other dead ones behind her. The bus was in sight and she could reach the next bus stop before it if she tried hard enough.

  All around her people were screaming, cars were honking, and the world was sinking into chaos, but Bonnie kept running, her brown eyes steady on the bus. She could hear Rachel and Derrick screaming for her to run faster. She could see Oscar and Melissa in the back window urging her to hurry. And she could hear the man’s voice calling out “Stop Requested” as Ra
chel pulled down on the yellow cord over the window.

  Bonnie pulled out all her reserves and surged past the bus. She almost slid into the bench at the next bus stop when she managed to reach it before the bus.

  “Stop! Stop! Stop!” Rachel’s voice screamed.

  “It’s just a dog,” a man’s voice shouted.

  Bonnie looked behind her to see the dead people. She whined as the big green bus drew closer. She could see Rachel crying and Derrick yelling at the bus driver to stop.

  The bus brakes groaned when the big bus came to an abrupt halt in front of the Golden Retriever. Bonnie glanced over at the dead people that had just reached the rear of the bus. The mangled man who had attacked Rachel was even closer.

  The doors snapped open and Bonnie leaped on. She dove past Derrick’s legs just as he raised a heavy toolbox and smashed in the face of the dead man trying to get onto the bus. She saw Rachel holding her arms out to her and Bonnie leaped into them.

  Rachel buried her face in Bonnie’s neck and wept as the bus lurched forward and the doors snapped shut. Derrick looked toward Bonnie and Rachel and took a deep breath. Outside the dead, but living creatures were howling and screaming. Silence filled the bus.

  “It’s just a dog,” a man in a suit and tie finally said in a trembling voice.

  “She’s more than that,” Derrick answered him. “Can’t you see?”

  Bonnie snuggled against Rachel. Both of their hearts were beating hard and, strangely, in sync.

  “You saved me, Bonnie, you saved me,” Rachel whispered. “You’re a good dog.”

  Bonnie licked Rachel’s face once more. Slowly, she smiled her doggy smile as the bus rumbled on satisfied that they were both together.

  The Monsters from Beyond

  The origins of this story are also in a vivid dream, but it’s a bit different from all the other stories of horror in this collection. This short story is actually the prologue of a novel that I am uncertain I will complete. It’s a very complex story with big themes on religion, faith, and being a survivor at the end of the world. Though Tor has shown a little bit of interest in the concept and I personally love it, the story is incredibly complex with a large cast of characters. In some ways it reminds me of AS THE WORLD DIES because of its setting and the sheer epic scale of the story.

  The Key is one of my favorite pieces of writing. I have loved it since I first wrote it in a rush of excitement. I had no idea where the story was taking me when I first started it, but I was completely enthralled with how the prologue ended. The reason it’s included in this collection is because I think it can stand on its own merit.

  I would love to hear your feedback on this tale and maybe one day it will grow into something much bigger. But for now, The Key is one of my favorite short stories and I’m very happy to share it with you.

  Enjoy!

  The Key

  Susan didn’t want to destroy the world. She never had. But the terrible truth was that the fate of the world lay in her trembling hands and no one believed her. Not one single soul.

  “It’s all in your mind. Can’t you see that? It’s not real. These fears you have are not real. I thought we were past this.” Gavin kept his voice low, aware of the other patrons in the restaurant, and threw down his cloth napkin. With a sigh, he turned his face away from her.

  In the candlelight thrown by the red candle in the middle of the table, he looked old and tired. But he was only twenty-seven, her age, and usually animated in a manner she envied.

  “Geezus, Susan.” He took another deep breath, trying to gain control of the irritation that kept creeping into his voice.

  Susan looked down at her pale hands twisting the napkin on her lap. Her brown hair fell forward to frame her face and provide a privacy curtain from the furtive looks of the other people in the swanky, yet cozy restaurant set in mid-town Manhattan. Tears were hovering just above her lower lashes and she tried hard not to blink. If they fell, she could not bear the embarrassment they would bring.

  “I’m sorry. I am. I’m trying.”

  “Dr. Sanders said we were past this,” Gavin sighed. “I thought we were past this. You’ve done so much better this last week since you got out.”

  Susan gazed at him through her lashes and didn’t dare say a word. Of all the people in her life, Gavin was the only one who knew when she was lying. She was surprised she had fooled him as well as she had this last week. Tonight’s dinner was to celebrate her progress. They were going to eat a fabulous expensive meal with some fine wine, go home, make love, and then step in front of the newly purchased gilded mirror that was now hung in the bathroom of their small apartment.

  And she would look into the reflective glass and end the world.

  She understood that. Gavin did not. He thought she had finally overcome her eisoptrophobia, her fear of mirrors.

  This was a lie.

  She was actually not afraid of mirrors. She was afraid of what dwelled within them.

  “You don’t understand, Gavin,” she finally said. “No one does.”

  “This end of the world crap?”

  He was almost done with her. She could see it. The one good and wonderful thing in her life, her fiancé, was almost done with her. Their relationship was frayed and hanging by a slim thread, and her fear, her terrible paralyzing fear, was slicing through that thread with every word she said.

  Her voice wouldn’t come.

  She couldn’t scream at him the words that were on the tip of her tongue.

  The words she had screamed at her unbelieving mother as she held Susan captive before her dresser mirror when she was six and ordered her to look at her reflection.

  The words she had screamed when the kids at school held her arms behind her back and tried to pry her eyes open in front of the mirror in the girl’s bathroom.

  The words she had screamed over and over again when the men in the white coats held her down and the needle pierced her skin when they had admitted her to the hospital.

  The words that haunted her thoughts.

  They are coming. They are the end of this world. And I am their key.

  She had scribbled it endlessly all over her textbooks and notebooks in school. She had written it in crayon all over the walls of her bedroom. She had muttered it endlessly the many times she had been hospitalized.

  Her terror was real. The threat was real. But no one believed her. No one understood.

  For a moment, she caught the reflection of her terrified gaze in the blade of the silver knife resting at the edge of her plate.

  My key. My beloved key, whispered a voice of delicate velvet wrapped in an ice cold blade.

  “Susan,” Gavin’s voice said firmly.

  She gazed up at him, forcing herself to not look at that delicate blade. “Gavin, I just want to be with you. I just want to go home.”

  He sighed softly and shook his head. His fine blond curls bounced over his forehead and his blue eyes were full of despair. “All right. We’ll go home.”

  “Thank you.”

  Folding her napkin, she tried not to shed the tears that were refusing to subside. She wished Gavin would listen to her. She wished he would understand.

  When they had met in college, she had told him of her fear of mirrors. She had told him of the nightmares she had of the other place where creatures of great beauty and terror devoured the living and destroyed worlds. He had listened, his hand gently holding hers, and he had not told her to shut up. He had asked her questions, contemplated her words, and sympathized with the terror that she always lived with. She had been doing so much better then. She had not been so riddled with terror. But then again, the creature had still been far in the distance whenever she caught a glimpse of a mirror.

  “You’re so much more than this irrational fear,” he said softly as he signaled the waiter and pulled out his wallet. “So much more, Susan. You can’t let this rule your life. How can you stand it? Your whole life, Susan! Your whole life!”

  When s
he was three years old she had gazed into a mirror and seen not only her reflection, but beyond it. It was not her mother’s bedroom lingering behind her, but a cold, gray barren world.

  When she was six, she had seen a dark figure in the distance, coming over the dunes of gray snow—or was it sand?—and had been afraid. Each time she looked into the mirror, the figure had been a little closer. And then the voice came.

  Do not look away! Gaze upon me and draw me close!

  That was when she had begun to scream. That was when she had learned that no one else could see the gray world or the dark figure slowly advancing from the horizon. She had been admitted to the hospital and sedated to calm her hysterics. It was the first time of many she would be hospitalized.

  “I’m not afraid of mirrors,” she said at last.

  “I know. I know.”

  The waiter presented the check, giving her an odd, dismissive look, and then walked away.

  “I’m not, Gavin. I’m not afraid of them.”

  “You’re afraid of what is in them,” Gavin answered tersely. “I know that.” He threw down some bills and stood up. “I know you’re afraid that you’re some sort of key and they will use you to get into our world. I’ve heard it all. Remember?”

  Susan slid to her feet and grabbed up her small purse. Her tall, too-slim form was tucked into a flattering red dress. She looked pretty, but haunted. She never wore any makeup and kept her long hair straight and boring. Avoidance of all mirrors meant she adhered to the simplest personal maintenance.

  Gavin took her arm and gently led her through the restaurant. A few people stole glances at them, but he ignored them. He was too upset to care about public humiliation. Shoving open the heavy wood door set with stained glass, he looked toward her. His expression was one of anger and detestation.

  Stepping onto the busy sidewalk, Susan didn’t dare look at him again. She had been lying for months now and she couldn’t bear to tell him. Her last break had resulted in her being hospitalized for a much longer duration. The doctor that had taken her case had believed firmly she must face her fear and break it once and for all. This meant looking into a mirror at least once a day without hysterics until he believed she was getting better.