Paranormal Anthology with a TWIST

by Bart Hopkins

  As Jill watched, a second ghostly figure phased through the wrought-iron fence. The translucent figure of Jake stepped to Whitney, pulling her in close. Whitney laid her head on Jake’s chest and cried heavily. Jake held her for a long moment before they turned and walked through the closed gate together.

  “I… I don’t understand,” Jill said quietly.

  The little girl reached toward her. When her spectral hand touched Jill’s skin, her flesh exploded with a deep-freezing cold.

  Remember, the little girl whispered, her words suddenly audible as she spoke.

  Chapter Three

  Jake and Jill walked toward the jeep, trailing behind Whitney and her boyfriend. As Brent reached the door, he tripped on his own feet and nearly fell to the concrete, catching himself at the last minute on the jeep’s door handle. Whitney and Brent exploded with laughter as they climbed into the front two seats of the car.

  Jake slipped his hand in Jill’s and felt her sweaty palms. “You don’t have to do this, you know?”

  “Yes, I do,” she replied. “I’m going to make sure that asshole loses.”

  The pair climbed into the back of the open-topped jeep as Brent started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot.

  Brent and Whitney lost themselves in mindless conversation, leaving the rear of the jeep in a dreadful silence. Despite her bravado, Jill was petrified of spending the night in Creepy Cemetery. She didn’t put stock into the rumors of the cemetery being haunted, but the ambiance of the graveyard was enough to put her ill at ease.

  Jill associated the graveyard with a morose sense of sadness; knowing that those buried within had been forgotten not just by the city, which refused upkeep on the cemetery, but even by the families of those who had passed. In all her months of driving by, she had never seen a single wreath or flower set in honor of those within.

  “You’re drifting,” Jake said suddenly, drawing Jill from her morbid introspection.

  She looked up to see Brent turn the jeep back into their lane.

  “Thanks,” Brent called back over his shoulder before returning to his conversation.

  “Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” Jill asked, realizing that was a question better posed at the beginning of their trip.

  “It’s only a couple blocks and we’re already halfway there,” Brent replied. “I’m fine.”

  “He’s fine,” Whitney echoed.

  Jill looked over to Jake and met his soft gaze. She drew confidence from his chocolate eyes and the gentle upturn at the corners of his mouth.

  “Don’t worry,” Jake said. “If you get too freaked out, you have your cell phone. Call me and I’ll come pick you up.”

  He leaned in closer, whispering so that only Jill could hear. “If we’re really careful, we could even drop you back off before sunrise and just lie to these two idiots.”

  Jill smiled and laughed softly to herself. As much as she had always loathed the idea of dating a fraternity guy, Jake had a maturity that broke through her preconceived notions.

  She leaned in and kissed him firmly on the lips. He leaned into her embrace and, for a moment, they lost themselves in one another. As they separated, Jake’s smile grew wider.

  “What was that for?”

  “For being such an amazing boy…,” Jill began. A splash of headlights broke her train of thought. She looked up and stared into the approaching headlights of a truck.

  “Look out!” she screamed.

  Brent’s head snapped up from where it had been drooping. Seeing the headlights, he jerked the steering wheel to the side but grossly overcorrected. The jeep swerved back through their lane and onto the sidewalk in front of the cemetery.

  Jake’s hand fell protectively across Jill’s chest a second before the jeep struck a lamppost. Colliding at nearly fifty miles an hour, the jeep spun. Momentum carried the jeep over on its side, where it rolled across the grassy embankment.

  Jill felt herself lift from the seat as she was thrown through the open roof of the jeep. She struck the concrete first against her shoulder, which gave way with a sickening crack. Her head followed suit, striking the hard ground.

  Her world exploded into a rainbow of colors. She could hear the snapping of bones as she rolled limply away from the wreck—but her mind no longer associated the ruin with her own body.

  She bounced across the ground before coming to rest against a rusted iron fence. Her right arm was twisted awkwardly behind her and a red haze covered half of her vision. Each breath through her broken ribs felt like a hot knife being pulled across her chest.

  The world floated in her vision. In the great distance, she could hear a blaring horn. The headlights flickered across the gap like sunlight filtering through the ocean, dissipating as it grew closer to where Jill rested against the cemetery fence.

  Voices carried like whispers across the chasm of reality. Jill tried to call out to them but she felt her lung collapse from the exertion. Each breath became even more labored and her body more oxygen starved.

  Flashing lights joined the distant headlights, spilling over Jill. The noises rose in a crescendo of unintelligible sound.

  Ghostly figures approached her, silhouetted by the filtered headlights. As they reached out to her, Jill let out a silent sob and her world grew dark.

  Suburban Zombie

  Anthony Lance

  About Anthony

  Anthony lives in Cronulla, a quiet beachside suburb of Sydney. His first published work of fiction; I SPIDER is available on Amazon.com. Any resemblance to characters depicted in this short story, living or living dead is purely coincidental.

  Follow Anthony

  Blog: www.ispiderbook.wordpress.com

  Read More from Anthony

  I Spider: www.amzn.com/B0088FAR9I

  Suburban Zombie

  Every house in the perfectly manicured street is the same. They differ only in the pastel shades of the paintwork on their perfect, weatherboard facades. It is a beautiful summer’s day in the heart of suburbia as Ted Jones walks out his front door, dressed in a suit and carrying his briefcase. Ted is a zombie. He walks with a typical zombie gait. Ted walks to the front yard and picks up the newspaper. He sees his neighbor Dave Thompson over the top of his neatly trimmed hedge. Dave is also a zombie.

  “Mornin’ Ted.”

  “Mornin’ Dave.”

  “What about those Yankees then?”

  “Can’t pick it.”

  As Dave says this, he picks at a nasty sore on his cheek. Ted gives Dave a wave and they both hop into their respective cars and back out of their driveways at the same time as all of the other cars on the street do.

  The front door of the Jones household opens again and Katie Jones comes out, pushing a pram with a one-year-old baby zombie in it. Beside her is her five-year-old daughter Shelley. Both Katie and Shelley are zombies.

  “My front teeth are loose, Mum,” Shelley lisps as she wobbles the entire top row of her unsightly teeth.

  “Somebody might be getting a visit from the tooth fairy tonight,” Katie replies.

  All of the other zombie mothers walk out onto the sidewalk and form a convoy up the street. Each woman has a pram containing a one year old, with a five year old walking beside it. They all smile and wave at each other.

  Jill Thompson’s five-year-old son has removed his nose and is looking at it as he walks along beside her.

  “Ohhh… That’s disgusting, Jamie—stop picking your nose. You’re too old to be doing that,” Jill admonishes as she looks around to make sure none of the other women have noticed.

  In the school playground, all of the women gather around and chat as the young zombies begin lurching and limping about, playing games. Several of the boys are crowded around a circle drawn in chalk on the playground. They are playing marbles.

  “That’s not fair.”

  “That’s cheating.”

  The boys are upset because a child’s thumb has fallen off, flicking into the center of the circle and knoc
king a marble out.

  “Young Nathan had his swimming carnival last Tuesday. You should have seen the condition of the water in the pool. It was disgusting,” Daphne states.

  “Soup?” Katie asks.

  “More like porridge.” She laughs at her own joke.

  “I hate those public pools—they’re dreadful. They must be a health risk,” Jill says.

  Two children run by passing a head to each other as though it is a football.

  “Oh, did I tell you that Ted and I went to that new restaurant called MORT last night?” Katie asks. “Very posh—they even had chicken on the menu.”

  At the word chicken, all of the women collectively scrunch up their faces and say, “Eeeeeewwwww.”

  “That’s disgusting. Who would eat that?” Daphne responds.

  “My mom used to eat crumbed chicken,” Jill remarks.

  “Eeeeeewwwww.”

  “It’s just not natural,” Daphne exclaims.

  “I’ll just stick to crumbed brains, thank you very much,” Jill replies.

  At that moment, the school bell rings and all of the children stagger off to line up in front of their respective classrooms. As the women leave the school in single file to return to their homes, they are unaware that a young, well-groomed man is following them at a distance.

  It is a beautiful afternoon when all of the cars in the street return and drive into their driveways at the same time. Ted Jones hops out of his car and waves over the hedge to his neighbor, Dave Thompson.

  “Dave.”

  “Tom.”

  At that moment, a well-dressed young man on a pushbike rides past with a bible under his arm. He is not a zombie—he is a Mormon. The Mormon turns around and gives Ted a menacing look but Ted does not notice him.

  “Honey, I’m home,” Ted says as he walks through the front door of his home.

  With a mixing bowl in her hands, Katie walks out and kisses him on the cheek. “Got your favorite for dinner tonight,” she replies.

  “Brains?” he asks.

  At that point, Shelley calls out from the back yard. She is detaching her arm and then returning it to its socket.

  “Dad, look at me.”

  “That’s great, Shelley,” Ted says distractedly, completely oblivious of what Shelley is doing. He waves to his daughter without even looking at her.

  There is a loud knock at the door. As Ted makes his way to open it, there is another loud knock. As soon as Ted opens the door, Dave and his family rush inside. Dave’s son Jamie is holding his arm in pain.

  “One of them bit him on the arm. There are these creatures outside, Ted. They attacked us,” Dave exclaims.

  “What?” Ted asks, looking outside.

  He sees two Mormons circling up and down the street menacingly while two Mormons walk slowly towards the door.

  “What are they?” Ted cries, panicking.

  The front door is still open and, as Ted tries to close it, one of the Mormons sticks his foot in the way to prevent it from closing.

  “Have you been blessed, brother?” one of the Mormons asks.

  Dave joins Ted and together they are able to force the door closed. Ted looks once again out the window. More Mormons walk up the driveway. There are now five Mormons on the road, going in circles. Suddenly, a Mormon appears out of nowhere and scares Ted half to death. He is holding a book and waving it threateningly.

  “Look, out the back,” Dave says.

  There are several Mormons peering over the back fence.

  “Quick, get the kids inside.” Ted is too late; the kids have seen the Mormons and run into the house screaming.

  “I need nails and a hammer. We have to board up the windows and the doors,” Ted remarks hurriedly.

  Darkness descends on the Jones’ house. The windows are heavily boarded and the two families huddle into one small part of the living room. The drone of Mormons calling out and bashing on the door is relentless.

  “AAGHHHHHH,” Jill Thompson screams.

  Everyone jumps back to see what has happened. There stands Jamie Thompson, neatly dressed, his hair combed, his teeth whiter than white—with a bible tucked under his little arm.

  All I Want For Christmas

  Jason Brant

  About Jason

  Jason Brant grew up in the mountains of western Pennsylvania where he eventually graduated with a Bachelor of Science degree from Indiana University of Pennsylvania.

  After spending more than half a decade working as a Digital Forensics Analyst contractor for the Department of Defense, Jason prefers to spend his time writing and watching movies.

  As a Steelers fan living outside of Baltimore, Jason and his wife Erin spend most of their days dodging flying cans of National Bohemian Beer being thrown at them by Ravens fans.

  Follow Jason

  Facebook: www.facebook.com/jmbrant

  Blog: jasonbrant.blogspot.com

  Twitter: twitter.com/jason_brant

  Read More from Jason

  The Dark: www.amzn.com/B00BC0JLXO

  All I Want For Christmas

  November 19

  Dear Diary,

  I’m so pissed!!!!

  My dad is being such a jerk! I’m thirteen years old now and he still treats me like I’m ten. He doesn’t care that I’m an adult - he just wants me stay his little girl forever. It makes me so mad!

  He won’t let me stay out at night, he won’t let me watch The Walking Dead, and he won’t let me go out with Stevie! I’m thirteen and I’ve never gone on a date!! I know that Stevie is so totally perfect for me but nooooo! Dad won’t even let me invite him over to the house. I mean, Stevie doesn’t even know I exist, but he might someday.

  Mom doesn’t help me either. I can tell that she thinks I’m old enough, but she doesn’t want to argue with Dad. Usually I can get Mom to let me do something, even if Dad says no, but she won’t listen to me about this at all!

  “If Dad says you aren’t ready, then we should listen to him,” she says.

  Like he knows everything…

  November 28

  Dear Diary,

  OMG!!!! Stevie said hi to me! I can’t believe it! He caught me staring at him in Math class, again, but this time he said hi! I thought I was going to die right there. I tried to say something back but only a squeak came out. That was soooo embarrassing.

  Superbitch Megan Lockard laughed at me. Why is she so mean to me? I haven’t done anything to her. I think she likes Stevie and she was just jealous that he said hi to ME. God, I hate her. She thinks she’s so much better than everyone else just because her father is a rich doctor. Who cares? I mean, she isn’t even all that pretty.

  Ok, that was a lie…she’s totally pretty, but still.

  December 5

  Dear Diary,

  I sat behind Stevie at lunch today and he smelled so good! I never noticed it before, but he smells really sweet. He definitely wears too much Axe or cologne or whatever, but still, he smells awesome. I just wanted to eat him up right then!

  He caught me staring at him again, but he smiled at me instead of being mad. I really think he’s noticing me now. Finally! I mean, it’s only been three years that I’ve been in school with him. His face looks so CUTE when he smiles too—I wanted to just grab him right there and take him home with me. Oh, the things I would do to him…

  Of course, Superbitch saw us and got all pissy. She told her Megawhore friend Stephanie Mitchell that I was a carpenter’s dream. I didn’t even know what that meant. They both laughed like it was the funniest thing ever, even though it was totally lame. I had to look it up on Google when I got home. It means I’m flat as a board and easy to nail! Assholes!!!!

  I told Dad that I wanted to do something really mean to her but he won’t let me. He says that her father is too important and that I would get in a lot of trouble. I hate when he says stuff like that. So it’s OK for me to do something to a poor, unpopular person—but not to Superbitch? Isn’t that racist or something?

  De
cember 14

  Dear Diary,

  I want to run away!

  So today was awesome—until I came home from school. Stevie came up to me and asked me what I was doing over Christmas vacation! He even knew my name! I stood there like a total dweeb of course and didn’t say much of anything. I think I said something stupid like ‘nothing’, but I can’t really remember. He’s so perfect. Whenever he talks to me, I just become a moron!

  Then he asked me if I wanted to hang out with him sometime! Uhh yeah! I told him he could come to my house and I would do something with him that I’ve never done with anyone else before. That got him really excited. He said he would come over after school today, but I said I had to ask my dad first. Stevie got a little sad then, but he’ll get over it.

  When I asked my Dad if I could have Stevie he said no! WTF?! I’m so sick of being treated like a little girl! And then he told me something stupid like ‘all good things come to those who wait’. What a crock! I don’t want to wait anymore. I want Stevie!

  Mom did nothing, of course. I thought she might help me this time, but noooo. I asked her when her first time was and she got so mad at me. Now I feel guilty, even though they’re the ones being jerks. I hate this! I’m running away right now!

  December 14

  Update #1

  I didn’t run away. It’s too cold outside. I’m still mad.

  December 21

  Dear Diary,

  Stevie hasn’t been talking to me as much.

  After I told him that my stupid dad wouldn’t let him come over, Stevie got upset. He didn’t say anything mean, but I could tell that he wasn’t happy. He said it was OK and that we could maybe sneak around after school someday. Mom and Dad pick me up from school every day, so I would have to lie to them about it. They ALWAYS know when I’m lying! I hate it!