Easter Eggs and Bunny Boilers: A Horror Anthology

by Matt Shaw

  The monstrous apparition was nowhere to be seen.

  Megan jumped down from the stile, landing on shaky legs. The adrenalin made her senses keen, ready for flight, but it made her muscles quiver. The ground beneath her feet felt soft, unreal.

  Annie took her hand.

  ‘Keep close to the hedgerow,’ Annie whispered. ‘We’ll follow it all the way down.’

  Slowly they crept across the field. Their ears, now attuned for danger, made their footsteps sound like thunder. A snapping twig echoed round the hills. They squeezed each other’s hands as they crept, hardly daring to breathe.

  ‘Annie,’ Megan whispered.

  ‘What?’ her friend asked.

  ‘What does it look like?’

  ‘Like the Easter bunny,’ Annie replied. ‘A big, evil, slobbering Easter bunny.’

  ‘Where did it come from?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Annie’s tone grew irritated.

  ‘Where is it now?’

  ‘Megan,’ Annie stopped and turned to her, ‘just because I saw it doesn’t make me an expert. All I know is it has teeth and claws, and eyes that look like hell.’

  ‘You didn’t mention the blood soaked fur,’ Megan retorted.

  ‘What?’ Annie asked, puzzled.

  ‘And the foaming mouth,’ Megan’s eyes grew wide as she looked past her friend.

  Annie turned to follow Megan’s gaze.

  ‘Run!’ she shouted pulling the other girl along by the hand.

  The pair turned and ran back up the hill, away from the murderous beast that was galloping towards them on all fours.

  Their young legs carried them swiftly but the monster’s speed was unmatched. It quickly gained distance and with a mighty leap, pounced towards them.

  Its claws caught Megan’s back, pushing her forward. Annie turned to catch her friend but was knocked over by the force. She landed on her back, with Megan crashing on top of her.

  They faced each other, powerless to move as Megan cried for help. Unable to see past her best friend’s face, Annie could feel the weight of the monster as it sat on top of them. She could hear the sound of flesh being ripped open by its awful claws.

  ‘Help me,’ Megan mouthed, her voice finally lost to the terror that beseeched her.

  Her eyes were like saucers, her pupils dilated with fear. Try to ignore it as she might, Megan was acutely aware of what was happening to her.

  Her gaze remained fixed on her best friend.

  Blood splashed around them and Annie screamed as Megan’s head went limp. A serrated claw smashed through the top of her skull, showering the pinned girl underneath in a confetti of bone, brain and blood.

  Gnashing teeth made jittery, but brutal bites to the corpse’s neck, slicing through the spinal column like it was nothing more than a tough piece of gristle.

  Annie held out her hands, pushing at the creature’s snout in a desperate attempt to fend it from feasting on her as it had her friend. But its skittish attack seemed impossible to deflect as it edged closer, nipping at her fingers as it did so.

  With a final act of determination she clenched her fist and mustering all the strength she could, she launched a punch, landing it square on the beast’s nose.

  The creature reared up on its hind legs and briefly studied its prey, holding its claws out ready for the lethal blow. It opened its ever-chewing mouth and a guttural roar bellowed from its lungs. As it launched towards her a rock struck the side of its head, halting the attack. Another rock quickly followed its predecessor, this time smashing directly into one of its glowing red eyes.

  Recoiling in pain, the monster fell to the floor, momentarily stunned.

  Annie rolled from under the decapitated body of her friend and looked up to see Bruce launching another rock at the creature.

  Blood dripped from his head and a jagged wound tore down his left arm, which hung uselessly by his side.

  ‘Come on Annie,’ he called out. ‘I’ve only hurt it.’

  Climbing to her feet, Annie ran towards her saviour.

  ‘You’re alive!’ she yelled with excitement.

  ‘Yeah. The bastard wounded me. Knocked me right out,’ he explained. ‘But luckily for me it didn’t finish the job. That’ll teach the bugger.’

  ‘Bruce!’ Annie was shocked by his language, but felt herself blush for a different reason.

  Taking Annie’s hand, Bruce ran through a gap in the hedge and pulled them both into a ditch by the border of the field. It was damp and muddy at the bottom, but it was also dark.

  ‘We’ve got to get home,’ Annie whispered once they had caught their breath.

  ‘We’ll never get to the village,’ Bruce whispered back, wheezing from exhaustion. ‘That thing’s fast. God knows if Derrick made it.’

  Annie started to protest, but stopped herself. Climbing up the slope, she peered over the top of the ditch for a moment eyeing the village, bathed in beautiful sunlight. It had never looked so welcoming. It had never looked so far away.

  ‘Careful up there, Annie,’ Bruce quietly called with concern. ‘This ditch used to be the end of the field until the floods. There’s an old barbed wire fence lying in the dirt. Don’t cut yourself on it.’

  Her eyes caught the rusty lines of needle sharp barbs trailing the slope. Beside her was one of the old fence posts. The wood had rotted in the damp, becoming home to a teeming population of woodlice. It had been pure luck that Annie hadn’t cut herself on the spikes.

  ‘What do we do?’ she asked.

  ‘Wait here,’ Bruce replied. ‘We can stay here until our parents realise we’re missing.’

  Pulling his penknife from his pocket, Bruce began slicing the end of a stick, sharpening it to a point.

  ‘But it’s distracted,’ she called back, still looking over the edge. The monster was making short work of Megan’s head. The child’s skull cracking as it bit into her face. ‘We can make it.’

  ‘Town is up wind,’ Bruce said, pulling her back into the safety of the ditch. ‘Even if we’re really quiet it will smell you.’

  Satisfied with the makeshift spear, Bruce picked up another stick and repeated the process.

  ‘Can rabbits smell good?’ Annie asked, genuinely unsure.

  ‘I guess so. It’s always twitching its nose,’ he shrugged. ‘And rabbits don’t look like that. Whatever that thing is, I don’t want to take any chances. Besides,’ he braved a smile, ‘even I can smell you from here.’

  Annie’s face cracked into a shadow of fun as she playful pushed him. The relief was fleeting as the horror of the situation proved overwhelming.

  ‘We can’t just stay here. What if Derrick didn’t get home? It will eventually find us,’ her voice quivering with a growing panic. ‘We’ve got to do something.’

  ‘Maybe you’re right,’ Bruce picked up another stick and sliced the wood to a sharp point. ‘The construction field’s over there, right?’

  ‘Uh huh,’ Annie recalled seeing the red tape flapping in the wind. ‘But that’s out of bounds. It’s dangerous.’

  ‘Exactly,’ Bruce replied. ‘We’ve had it drummed into our heads that the new drainage works is a dangerous place to play. As dangerous for us as it is a mutant bunny?’

  Annie’s eyes lit up with a sense of hope.

  ‘Listen,’ Bruce placed another sharpened stick on the pile, ‘I’ve got a plan.’

  If Annie had turned nine whilst waiting for the church sermon to end she reckoned she was eleven by the time she counted to five hundred, as instructed by Bruce, and slowly crawled to the top of the ditch. She’d had her eyes shut all the while she counted, listening intently to anything that would indicate the success of Bruce’s progress. But she’d heard nothing expect the birds overhead and the blowing wind.

  Carefully crawling past the fallen barbed wire fence, Annie gripped the spear Bruce had left her. It was crude, but sharp. The rest he’d taken with him.

  She peered over the top. Just like he’d promised the red tape had been cu
t, but the fence post was left standing; a marker for her. It seemed so far. Did Bruce really sneak all the way across there without being seen?

  Annie thought about how brave he had been and she felt her heart glow with a pleasing rush that momentarily caught her breath. Now it was her turn to be just as brave. It was her turn to prove herself.

  Slowly rising to her feet she looked around for the creature that had killed her friends. Through the hedge she could make out the remains of Megan spread across the undulating field. Jackdaws and crows fought over the scraps as they pulled at the soft tissues. Annie’s stomach convulsed, but she held back from retching, swallowing back the salvia that pooled in her mouth.

  Come on, where are you? she thought as she walked out into the open, knowingly making herself a target.

  She squeezed the spear and held it in front of her as she circled around, trying to keep sight of every direction at once. The creature could come from anywhere.

  A rustle in the hedgerow made her turn. The branches and foliage concealed the form, but a pair of eyes glowed in the dark between the leaves. Annie staggered backwards as fear fleetingly enveloped her mind. She turned to look over her shoulder, eyeing the fence post that marked her destination.

  The snapping of branches made her look back. The monster had burst from its hiding place and sprinted towards her on all fours in a blur of teeth and menace.

  Without hesitation she turned and ran. The pounding of the creature’s claws shook the ground and echoed in the sky, but Annie remained focused on the fence post.

  Just run towards the post, Annie. Run, run, run. And when you get there don’t stop running. Don’t look back, don’t rest. Run.

  That’s what Bruce had told her and that’s what she did.

  Her legs stretched as far as they could, her lungs burnt and still she could feel the monster gaining on her, its strange snarl growing closer and closer behind her.

  Got to reach the post, she screamed to herself as she climbed the hill.

  Taking the brow as her legs wobbled, she reached her destination, but didn’t slow down. The ground beneath her disappeared, opening up to a sheer drop. The whole field in front of her had been dug out, three storeys deep, with a criss-cross of trenches and half-made pipe networks.

  She tried to stop, but the momentum carried her over the edge, momentarily flying through the air before she felt herself fall.

  A hand caught her dress and pulled her backwards.

  She landed against hard rock and felt a pair of arms hold onto her tight. Instinctively Annie held still as she lay on a small ledge in Bruce’s protective embrace and watched the beast follow her descent. Without a guiding hand to pull it back, the creature careered down the long drop, finally crashing onto a set of wooden spikes at the bottom.

  The pair climbed back to the field and watched as the animal writhed amongst the spears that had impaled it.

  ‘It worked,’ Annie cried, hugging Bruce.

  ‘You did amazing,’ Bruce hugged her back.

  Releasing from their celebrations, he looked into her eyes and smiled.

  ‘Still got my spear,’ he laughed.

  ‘This thing,’ she held up the handmade weapon. ‘First present you ever gave me. I’m keeping hold of this.’

  Bruce’s smile grew wider.

  ‘Well, maybe it won’t be the last. You’re really something, you know?’

  Annie was flattered by the praise and found herself unable to resist leaning closer to kiss him. She watched as he reciprocated the action, gently puckering his lips to meet hers.

  Savouring the moment, she closed her eyes, waiting to experience the moment she had dreamt of for months.

  An ear splitting scream forced her eyes open.

  She fell to the floor; pushed to safety by Bruce.

  Behind him stood the creature, its face gnarled and broken by the spikes. Blood dripped from its wounds, rasping as it struggled to breathe.

  Bruce stood little chance of escape as the creature drove a claw through his stomach.

  ‘Nooooo,’ Annie screamed as she stabbed her spear into its throat.

  Throwing Bruce aside the monster swiped at its attacker. Annie fell to the floor as her thigh gushed a crimson spray. She gripped the wound under her dress and ran.

  The pain was agonising as she sprinted across the field. Every step opened the wound further, but she had no choice. The monster bounded after her, slowed by its broken, hind leg, but still giving chase. Gradually gaining ground, it gnashed at her heels, causing her to trip.

  Annie rolled over to face the beast, crawling backwards with her hands as she frantically tried to keep distance between herself and the creature.

  A claw caught her foot. It sliced her shoe, but she tumbled backwards as she found herself sliding down the ditch that had previously offered her a thin veil of sanctuary. As the rabbit-like beast curled back its mouth, displaying the full length of its lethal fangs, that sanctuary was obliterated.

  Blood poured from her leg as Annie tried to escape but there was nothing left. She was drained, exhausted by the attacks, the chase and her injuries.

  The monster crawled over the lip of the ditch and down towards its beaten prey, seemingly enjoying the moment; relishing the kill.

  Closer it crawled, inch by inch, until it stopped still and eyed up its quarry. It leant back on hind legs ready to pounce on the defenceless girl; ready to deliver the death blow.

  An evil sparkled in its eyes, whilst drool continued to foam from its mouth, a bubbling liquid with a strange yellow colour. It stunk but Annie could no longer smell; as desperation set in she was close to catatonia.

  Her hand dropped to her side, landing on the soft wet wood of the old fence post.

  Of course!

  As the monster leapt towards her she sprang into action. With a strength summoned from the pit of her being she pulled at the post, pulling it from the ground and releasing the barbed wire links from the dirt. Like a net of twisted, metal knots, the old fence ensnared the creature. It tried to free itself, but the more it struggled the further entangled it grew.

  Already wounded, the monster was weakened further as the barbs pulled tight, tearing across its hide and pulling open savage gashes.

  Annie got to her feet and dug a large rock from the earth. She held it above the monster and with a vengeful glee, brought it crashing down onto its skull.

  Again and again she drove the rock into the creature’s head, obliterating the cranium into a ragged, shapeless mess of fur and blood.

  Pulling rabbit brain from her hair, she climbed the slope and staggered back to Bruce, satisfied the monster was finally dead.

  ‘It’s okay,’ she said as she sat down next to him, smiling and holding her hand comfortingly against the wound on his stomach. ‘The grown-ups will come and sort everything out. We’ll be fine.’

  ‘We did it?’ Bruce weakly smiled back.

  ‘Yeah we did it, alright,’ Annie replied.

  She leant forward and the pair kissed, beginning a relationship that would last for the rest of their lives.

  A hail of bullets flew through the air with such ferocity they lifted Annie off the ground. Ripping through their flesh and bone like it was soft butter, the artillery tore them both to pieces, splattering their child corpses across a three metre radius.

  A group of figures in yellow HazMat suits surveyed the carnage holding automatic machine guns in their gloved hands. The barrels of their M60s still smoked from their fresh discharge.

  ‘The gas spread further than we thought,’ one of them spoke into a radio. ‘Even infected some kids.’

  The ground rumbled beneath their feet as around them the earth churned up. Rabbit-shaped creatures with glowing red eyes emerged from the dirt and sprinted from the hedgerows, disturbed by the gunfire.

  Moving at such speed, the numbers weren’t easy to count.

  ‘That’s about twenty,’ the man spoke into the radio once more. ‘Containment measures are not wo
rking. It looks like the infected are headed towards the village.’

  He squeezed his radio in anger at his failure.

  ‘God help them.’

  THE END

  Bio

  J.R. Park is an author of horror fiction and co-founder of the publishing imprint the Sinister Horror Company. His novels Terror Byte, Punch and Upon Waking have all been well received by readers and reviewers, even if the sick bucket hasn’t been too far away from their bedsides.

  Art house, pulp and exploitation alike inform his inspirations, as well as misheard conversations, partially remembered childhood terrors and cheese before sleep.

  He currently resides in Bristol, UK.

  Find out more at JRPark.co.uk and SinisterHorrorCompany.com

  The Jesus Loophole

  By Luke Smitherd

  It was the smell that told Harry he was somehow back in his office. Amazingly, that knowledge penetrated his brain seconds before the realization that he couldn’t see. His eyes were covered and something was tied around his head, over his mouth. This was swiftly followed by the knowledge that his hands and legs were tied to a chair (his office chair).

  Naturally, panic came next in the chain of realization-to-response, and as he began to open his mouth (the tape covering it pulling painfully taut across his cheeks) to let out a smothered but hysterical scream (the cloth in his mouth muffling the sound), he remembered, in a detached way, where he had been last. He had been leaving his house, heading to the car. No. He’d gotten into the car, hadn’t he? That was right. He had driven to ...the office! That was right, he’d—

  You’re tied to a fucking chair! You’re in your own office, bound and gagged and tied to a fucking chair! What’s going on! Fuck! Fuck!!

  His heart - not in the best condition after too many oh-why-not steak dinners and only exercised with leisurely rounds of golf - pumped like he was running a marathon of terror, the madness of his situation settling into his brain. He jumped and strained in the seat., his strangled, cloth-filtered screams sounding like those of a bellowing cow. His hands grasped at the armrests they were tied to, pointlessly trying to break them. His head ached, and there was a woozy feeling behind his eyes, and a lingering chemical smell under his nostrils. Had he been drugged?