Bury the Children in the Yard: Horror Stories

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Bury the Children in the Yard: Horror Stories Page 12

by Andersen Prunty


  The semen came out in clumpy, warm drops. Steve closed his eyes, thinking that might help him to avoid throwing up. Not that throwing up the sperm of three men was unappealing, he just thought that, with the belt in his mouth, it might make things even worse.

  “You like that?” Slit Rider was whispering into his ear. “All that sperm’s filled with little space babies. You’re going to be just like the Virgins Mary. Shooting out babies without us having to fuck you in the mouth hole.”

  They left him on his back and went back to their partying, music turned up, the smell of smoke wafting from the main room. Steve thought he was so tired and had released so much adrenaline that he might actually be able to go to sleep but they’d left the light on and it was shining right into his eyes. Maybe two hours later Ashley came back into the room and lay next to him on the floor. Her hand went to his penis and he told himself he wasn’t going to get hard, that she repulsed him, but he got hard anyway.

  “The problem with you is that you don’t see anything.”

  “I don’t see how you’re in any condition to diagnose my problems. You’re less than half my age and you might be insane.”

  “That’s very hurtful. I indulged you, didn’t I?”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “That one night. I told you you could do anything you wanted to with me and I thought you did. I thought I let you. I thought I let you indulge. Maybe you should have killed me. Maybe that was really what I wanted. What would you have done if I’d told you that was what I wanted? That I had always felt dead inside and that I wanted you to kill me and fuck my corpse. That I didn’t really have a family, no one to go back to, no one to miss me. That I’d already withdrawn from college. Would you have done it?”

  He didn’t answer. How could he? Of course he wouldn’t have done it. But was that what she wanted to hear?

  “You don’t see anything that matters. You think women have to be brides or whores. You saw me as something innocent, didn’t you? And then you saw me as a whore. But I bet you started thinking about something more than just fucking me that first time I gave you head in the car. Probably because you felt guilty. That’s probably why you told me that story about your family.”

  “Not family. Wife.”

  “Oh, right, because the children didn’t exist. They were imaginary. And you’re wife was crazy. Did you know she was actually pregnant with twins?”

  “Not mine. And good job. You looked it up. Thanks for believing me.”

  “Of course not. They couldn’t have been, could they? Jesus, you’re rock hard.”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “I met Slit Rider right before I came out here with you. That was one of the reasons I came with you. You were normalcy. I thought you were the most normal person I’d ever met. And I wanted to taste it. I wanted to see if that was something I could be.”

  “I’m not that normal.”

  “But you are. Don’t you see that? Don’t you realize that’s what normal is? Everyone has problems. Everyone has a shitty life. But people who embrace that and do something with the misery are seen as the abnormal ones. And the people who apply normalcy like a camouflage suit are seen as the normal ones. And I figured out why this is. Because we’re a democratic society, Steve. And when there are more fucked up people than not fucked up people, that becomes the status quo. The mentally healthy – people like Slit Rider – are outcast. That’s why we have to make our own society.”

  She jerked him vigorously and he couldn’t help coming. He didn’t say anything else. He just closed his eyes and nearly wept. He was hoping they were just thieves but now he was starting to think they were some kind of death cult or just psychopathic or out of their heads on something and that scared him a lot more.

  “Listen to Slit Rider. He’ll teach you that everyone is a beautiful creature from space. There is no normal. There are no mothers, no whores, no men, no women. Wielders of cock and pussy. That’s all we are.”

  She dipped her fingers in his semen and spent several minutes sliding them in and out of his nostrils.

  Slayer

  He must have fallen asleep or passed out eventually. He didn’t remember her leaving the room. He didn’t remember much of anything. There were the party sounds in the other room and he just tried to find a comfortable bass line and focus his attention on that and the next thing he knew the room was filled with morning sunlight and Slit Rider was jerking his chair up and throwing Steve’s wallet at him and shouting “No pins. No pins. No pins.”

  Luckily, Ashley came in after him to translate.

  “We need your PIN number, Steve.”

  He laughed.

  Yesterday, before being forced to drink the semen of three men after watching them fuck a girl he’d become fond of, he would have given them the number easily. Hell, he probably would have driven them to the ATM just to avoid further trouble. Now they had put certain things into perspective. He’d been humiliated and terrified. But that wasn’t it. He’d also had it made painfully clear to him that he had basically died a long time ago. If he got out of this, he would make some changes, sure, but he was finished emasculating himself. And he still wasn’t sure if they were actually homicidal or just goofballs.

  Steve laughed, he couldn’t help it, and said, “I’m not giving you the number. It’s private. It’s personal. Feel free to steal anything that isn’t nailed down. But I’m finished volunteering information.” He looked at Ashley. “You’ve been irresponsible with it so far.”

  Something like wild rage shot through Slit Rider’s eyes – shot through his whole face – before it returned to that creepy blank potato and he stood up straight.

  “Bring in Slayer!” he shouted.

  Steve didn’t know what to expect. He thought maybe Slit Rider was talking about One Arm or Eyepatch, since Steve hadn’t caught their names previously. Or maybe another man, large and brutish, someone fitting of the name Slayer.

  In walked a very young girl. She couldn’t have been more than twelve or thirteen.

  “You know what to do, Slayer.”

  The girl walked in front of Steve and got down on her knees. He tried to cross his legs but he couldn’t. At least he figured he wasn’t going to get an erection. There was nothing about that particular age bracket that turned him on. But then the thought that he shouldn’t be aroused was slightly arousing him so he had to focus on the other people in the room. How much he hated them. How awkward this whole situation was.

  Slit Rider had some kind of smartphone in his hand, aiming it at Steve and the girl.

  “We’ll gets it all on camera. Big crime. This.”

  Steve looked at the girl and said, “Don’t.”

  Her head paused in its descent to his crotch. At this point, he was just happy she understood a word he said.

  “Is that all you want? The pin number to my debit card? I don’t really have much in there.”

  “It’s tip of the iceberg of dicks.”

  “Also, this would probably be more of a crime if I wasn’t in restraints. I mean, what? She’s going to give me head and I’m not going to be aroused and I’m not going to come and then you’re going to show this video to somebody and prove to them that I was held against my will while somebody else forced this underage girl to perform oral sex on me. How is that a good idea?”

  “He’s got smart brains. Hold ons, Slayer. Don’t move around on its.”

  Slit Rider left the room and came back with Steve’s gun. He was hoping they hadn’t found it. It was a fully loaded Glock. Steve kept it around the cabin only as a last ditch thing. Maybe at one point he’d bought it to convince himself he wasn’t suicidal like some people keep a bottle of booze or a pack of cigarettes in their homes to prove to themselves they’re no longer addicted. Slit Rider handed the gun to Ashley and started untying Steve.

  “Now you will be criminal,” Slit Rider said.

  The ropes dropped and Steve immediately felt tingling in his arms and legs. He�
��d had a grand vision of the ropes dropping away and him springing into action but, if he tried to move now, he would just fall on his face.

  At least he was able to twist his legs and penis away when the girl bent for it.

  Ashley, possibly mistaking this for an escape attempt, pulled the trigger.

  Part of the girl’s face exploded outward and blood sprayed Steve’s chest. If the bullet hit him, he was unaware. Now he had to move. He lunged for the door of the room and, as he feared, went sprawling face first. He was also aware that he was screaming. And maybe pissing.

  “What do you want?! What do you want?!” He thought he said this a hundred more times.

  “Shit,” Ashley said.

  “No bigs,” Slit Rider said.

  Steve hoped maybe a neighbor had heard the gunshot. Maybe they thought he’d finally decided to off himself.

  “We need to get out of here,” Ashley said.

  “Calm calm.”

  “Grab Parachute and Tram and let’s get the fuck out of here.”

  Slit Rider slapped Ashley and she shot Steve in the back of his right leg. It felt like a lead weight and then nothing. Maybe that was the beauty of shock.

  Slit Rider grabbed Steve around the wrist and dragged him into the main room. Ashley ran to the door and said, “Jesus, Slitty, they already took off. Fuckers probably left with the first shot.”

  The only thing Steve had the capacity to do in the way of self-defense was roll. He began rolling to his left, not really knowing where his ultimate goal was. His legs felt like sandbags attached to his body. Slit Rider leapt over him and placed a foot on his waist. Slit Rider threw his hands up in the air.

  “Don’t you sees, Sharon X? This is how it’s meant. We are ready for space. Ready for space!”

  “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “Shoot me in the face. Do it now!”

  “I’m not going to shoot you in the face. We’re not meant to die.”

  “Not die. Space!”

  Slit Rider moved toward Ashley. With Slit Rider’s foot gone, Steve began trying to army crawl. He thought he would try for the bathroom. See what happened then. At least there was a door with a lock on it. He didn’t think he had any hope of making it out the window and knew there was no way he could make it past Slit Rider and Ashley to get to the front door. He stopped to look back at Slit Rider and Ashley. Slit Rider had his hands around Ashley’s and the gun and then there was a loud crack and he hit the ground. Since Steve was the only person besides herself Ashley hadn’t killed, he crawled for the bathroom even faster, almost expecting a bullet to find its way into his head. Before pulling himself into the bathroom, he looked back and saw Ashley standing over Slit Rider’s body with something like reverence in her eyes. She wasn’t crying anymore. She still held the gun in her hand.

  Steve closed the door to the bathroom.

  He heard another shot.

  Bury the Children in the Yard

  Steve didn’t know how long he stayed in the bathroom. Didn’t know what he was waiting for. Sirens maybe. He either dozed off or passed out from the pain. While he was out he had the dream. This time it was different only in that it didn’t have any children in it. He and Heidi still wandered away from the car after the accident but when they got to the cabin she collapsed onto the ground and told him to bury her because she was killing him. She said she was already dead. Had been for a long time. He did what he was told and didn’t wake up until he miscalculated with the shovel and brought it down on his foot. By the time he awoke, the pain had traveled all the way up his leg.

  There still wasn’t any sign of the police.

  He tried to stand up and managed it with relative ease. He looked at his leg. The side of his leg had a line of flesh that had been torn away. The bullet must have only grazed him. He felt stupid and cowardly. Maybe his leg had still been asleep when Ashley shot at him. If so, that meant he might have been able to do something about the scene in the living room.

  He walked out into the living room, the smell of blood and shit hitting his nostrils.

  Slit Rider still lay on the floor. Ashley lay crosswise on top of him. The gun lay on the floor a few feet away.

  He found one of Ashley’s cigarettes, took it out to the front porch, and lit it.

  The sun was just going down, the sky was clear, and the lake glowed a hellish orange.

  He was surprisingly calm. This was the second most traumatic thing that had happened to him and, in a way, he didn’t even feel a part of it. He owned the cabin where it took place. He’d had sex with Ashley but what did any of it have to do with him? What would happen if he did call the police? He would be questioned, for sure. But he was convinced he wouldn’t be found guilty of anything. Which he wasn’t. And then what? And then life would go on exactly as it had before.

  He might as well be one of the corpses in the house.

  He stayed on the porch until night bloomed, black and moonless.

  He went into the house and cleaned his wound and bandaged his leg. He thought about burning down the cabin. But that didn’t seem poetic enough. He went out to the tool shed and found his shovel, probably the same one he’d used to bury his imaginary children. He could now hear some of the families around the lake, kids shouting, adult conversations. Laughter. Full lives. Where were they earlier? Maybe they were so turned inward they didn’t hear much of anything happening around them. And maybe that was only because they were on vacation. In Steve’s experience it seemed like most people paid way too much attention to things that didn’t really have anything to do with them. Maybe that was it. Maybe they turned away when it was anything that might demand some kind of involvement and chose only to focus on minutiae.

  Who knew?

  Who knew much of anything?

  Steve was sure he didn’t. He was going to dig a hole. The sun would be coming up in about seven hours so he thought he had some time. Then he would drag the corpses from the house and put them in the hole. Then he would fill the hole and go into the cabin and clean up as best he could, but not perfectly. He didn’t think he wanted to remove all the evidence of what had happened. He would know something had happened. He wouldn’t tell anyone about it no matter how much he might want to. It would be his.

  He broke the ground with the shovel and some dark cloud broke within him, filling him with thunder and lightning and rain. He listened to the families around him play and continued to dig the hole.

  Other Grindhouse Press Titles

  #666 – Satanic Summer

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  #012 – Return to Devil Town (Vampires in Devil Town Book Three)

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  #011 – Pray You Die Alone: Horror Stories

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  #010 – King of the Perverts

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  #009 – Sunruined: Horror Stories

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  #008 – Bright Black Moon: Vampires in Devil Town Book Two

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  #007 – Hi I’m a Social Disease: Horror Stories

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  #006 – A Life On Fire

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  #005 – The Sorrow King

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  #004 – The Brothers Crunk

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  #003 – The Horribles

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  #002 – Vampires in Devil Town

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  #001 – House of Fallen Trees

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  #000 – Morning is Dead

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