Casket For Sale

by Jeff Strand

  “Daddy, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong, Theresa.”

  “Did they hurt you?”

  I nodded. “They hurt Daddy bad. He needs you to comfort him. That will make everything okay.”

  The demon walked to me and wrapped its filthy arms around me. I wanted to gag.

  I pushed the monster away.

  “Daddy…?”

  I slammed the knife into it, laughing as its warm blood spattered against my bare chest.

  Chapter Twenty

  Helen’s Side

  WHERE COULD THEY be?

  “Theresa!” I screamed so loud my throat burned. “Kyle! Where are you?”

  I had horrible visions of my children caught in wolf traps, impaled by spears, dangling from meat hooks, and worse. Much worse. Grisly supernatural deaths at the hands of ghouls and ogres. Pretty much any tragic fate that could befall my children, possible or impossible, flashed across my mind as I wandered through the woods.

  I couldn’t lose them now. I just couldn’t. I cried out for them once more, not caring if I was alerting more killers to my presence.

  Then I remembered the limousine.

  I limped toward the road, drenched with sweat, each step feeling like a great white shark chomped on my ankle. I fell twice, but I doubted I could make even this much progress if I’d broken anything, so as far as I could tell my ankle was seriously messed up but still in one piece.

  I fell again when I reached the dirt road. I knew I had to be a sorry sight. A pregnant woman who’d been beaten half to death. It would be a miracle if I hadn’t lost the—

  NO NO NO NO NO!!!

  The baby was fine! I was absolutely positive that the baby was one hundred percent completely perfectly fine.

  I wept for it anyway.

  I got up and staggered toward the limousine. I opened the driver’s side door and Joe happily jumped up onto the seat. He wasn’t exactly my favorite canine at the moment, but it’s hard to stay mad at a pug.

  Kyle sat in the front seat.

  “Kyle! Oh, thank heavens, sweetie!” I climbed into the car and reached for him, giving him a smothering hug that he returned. “I was so worried about you!”

  My son buried his face against my belly and cried.

  My relief was short-lived. “Where’s Theresa?”

  “I don’t know,” said Kyle, his face still pressed against my belly.

  I pushed him back and looked him in the eye. “Did you see her?”

  “She brought me here. She told me to stay in the car. She said she was going to help you.”

  “Are you sure? I didn’t see her out there. She didn’t answer me. What exactly did she say?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Kyle, think. Where’s your sister? Did she say she was going to help, or to get help?”

  “I don’t know!”

  I closed my eyes, took deep breaths to calm myself, and then opened them. “It’s okay, we’ll find her. Stay in the car and see if you can find a phone or walkie-talkie or anything like that. If you find a gun, let me know, but don’t touch it.”

  Kyle nodded.

  “I’ll be back in five minutes. Promise me you’ll stay in the car.”

  “I will.”

  “Good.” I hugged him again and kissed his cheek.

  A plastic bottle of water with pink lipstick smears on the rim rested in the cup holder. I grabbed it, gulped down half of the contents, and gave the bottle to Kyle. “I love you, honey.”

  “I love you, too.”

  “It’ll all be fine.”

  I returned to the woods and called out Theresa’s name again and again. Where could she have gone? I couldn’t imagine she would have taken the time to get her brother to safety but then run off in a blind panic.

  I searched for the full five minutes, my foot hurting worse with each passing second, and finally returned to the limousine. Kyle handed me the bottled water as I got in on the driver’s side and I drank the rest of it.

  “Did you find anything?” I asked him.

  Kyle had a red purse pressed between his knees and he’d poured the contents out onto his lap. “A phone. But it didn’t work.”

  I took the cell phone from him and dialed. No signal.

  “Did you find anything else?”

  “These,” he said, holding up a strip of condoms.

  “Let’s put those back in the purse,” I said, taking them from him. “And these, too.” I replaced the tampons. Joe was on the floor, chewing on a tampon like a bone, so I took it from him and put it in the purse as well.

  “Can I have a piece of gum?” Kyle asked.

  “Yes, you can have the whole pack.”

  Kyle looked at the gum sadly. “I’ll give Theresa the rest when we find her.”

  I shut the limo door. The keys were still in the ignition, so I started the motor. “I need you to watch out the window and look for your sister.”

  “Which way do you think she went?”

  “I don’t know, honey. But we’re going to go really fast, so watch as closely as you can.”

  I applied the gas and we sped down the road. I slowed down when we went around corners, just in case my daughter was wandering in the middle of the road, but apart from that I floored the gas.

  “Try to dial 911 again,” I said, handing Kyle the phone. “Is there a signal?”

  He shook his head. “No.”

  “Keep trying.”

  We raced along the dirt road.

  “I’d like a piece of that gum,” I told Kyle. He unwrapped a piece and I popped the strawberry square into my mouth. I’d never been much of a gum or candy person, but this tasted absolutely delicious. I even blew a bubble.

  Two minutes later, we still couldn’t get a cell phone signal.

  “Do you think Theresa walked this far?” Kyle asked.

  “No, I’m sure she didn’t, but I want to find a phone signal so we can call for help. I think we’re getting close to the freeway, and we’ll definitely be able to get a signal there.”

  Kyle nodded and pressed redial again.

  “It’s working!” he shouted. “It’s working!”

  I grabbed the phone from him and pressed it tightly to my ear. A ring on the other end. Then a cheerful female voice: “911 emergency.”

  I applied the brakes, harder than I’d intended. “Oh, thank God, my name is Helen Mayhem and there’s been an accident and my family has been badly injured!”

  “Ma’am, please give me your location.”

  I gave her the directions as best I could. I didn’t want to tell her about the killers, for fear that she wouldn’t believe my story, but at the same time I couldn’t risk letting the police come in unprepared.

  I told her everything.

  She seemed to believe me.

  I turned the limousine around (not an easy process) and then sped back the way we came. I lost the signal moments after that. With renewed energy, I drove off to find my family.

  ***

  I FOUND THEM.

  I was so astonished at my good fortune that I nearly squealed with delight, and I’m not a squealer. Standing there, right in the middle of the road up ahead, were Andrew and Theresa, locked in a tight hug. I could see he held a knife. Hopefully a bloody knife that had slit the throats of the bastards who attacked us.

  “It’s them!” I squealed, proving that I am a squealer in the right circumstances. “It’s Theresa and Daddy!”

  They were alive!

  They were safe!

  I felt a sudden pang of concern as I realized Roger and Samantha were nowhere around, but I was overjoyed to see my husband and my daughter were both alive.

  Then Andrew pushed Theresa away and stuck the knife in her chest.

  I immediately knew I hadn’t really seen that. Maybe I was so overwhelmed with elation I wasn’t seeing straight, or maybe this whole experience had finally driven me to insanity, but I knew for certain I hadn’t just seen Andrew stab our daughter.


  And I didn’t see him laugh as she fell to the ground.

  And I didn’t see him crouch down over her body and raise the bloody blade.

  “Mommy!” Kyle’s shriek snapped me out of my state of disbelief and made me realize what I was seeing was completely real.

  Better to have gone insane.

  I floored the gas pedal and the limousine rocketed forward. Andrew looked up at the car, still holding the knife in the air. I slammed on the brakes right before I reached him.

  “Stay in the car!” I wailed at Kyle as I threw open the door and got out. “Andrew! Stop!”

  He looked at me, confused. His eyes were wild and unfocused.

  Theresa was bleeding badly, gasping for breath, and clawing at her wound.

  “You don’t scare me,” Andrew said.

  I walked toward him, slowly, carefully, trying not to set him off. If he chose to plunge the knife into Theresa again, I wouldn’t be able to stop him.

  “Andrew, please, look at me.”

  He grinned. “I am looking at you! What, you got problems with those demon eyes of yours? Maybe you should pop ‘em out and put in a new pair!” He gestured at Theresa with the knife. “Wanna try hers?”

  I spoke slowly, calmly. “Please, Andrew, you don’t want to hurt your daughter.”

  “I don’t have a daughter. I’m a freeeeeeee demon slayer!” He let out a joyous whoop.

  What the hell had they done to him?

  “Mommy…” said Theresa, weakly, reaching her arm out toward me.

  “Please, let me take her,” I said. “She’ll bleed to death.”

  Andrew ran his index finger across the stab wound and held it up, looking at it closely. “It looks like oil. You demons bleed black oil. That must be why you live in fire.”

  “She’s not a demon. She’s your daughter.”

  “She’s not my daughter!” Andrew shouted. “She’s a disgusting, rotting creature! And I’m not scared of you!”

  But he was. His fear was obvious. Was he really seeing demons?

  I stepped forward. “That’s right, she is a demon. If you touch her, I’ll destroy you.”

  Andrew snorted. “I’m not scared.”

  “GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY DAUGHTER OR I’LL DRAG YOU INTO THE PITS OF HELL!” I screamed.

  Andrew cried out in fear and scrambled away from her. I saw that he had something that looked like a camera attached to his chest.

  I strode forward and raised my arms, hoping to become more intimidating to him. “YOU’LL BURN WITH US!”

  “No!” Andrew got to his feet. “I’ll kill all of you!”

  He rushed at me with the knife.

  I moved out of the way, but I twisted my foot and fell to the ground.

  Theresa’s breathing was rapid and frantic.

  I got up as quickly as I could, just in time for Andrew to thrust the knife at me. It tore across my side, cutting deep.

  I punched Andrew in the face.

  He put his hand to his cheek and stumbled away. “Oh, shit, it burns!”

  I let out my best approximation of a demonic roar. Under any other circumstances I would have felt completely ridiculous, but now, in the moment, I felt like I truly was a demon.

  “I’ll eat you alive!”

  Andrew lunged at me with the knife but missed.

  I heard the car door open behind me.

  “Daddy, stop!” Kyle yelled.

  “Kyle, get back in the car!”

  “Daddy, don’t hurt her!”

  Andrew swung at me again. The tip of the blade sliced across my chest, but it was just a scratch.

  “Kyle, breathe fire!” I shouted. “Breathe fire on him! Burn him! Burn out his eyes!”

  Andrew raised his arm to shield his eyes.

  I punched him in the stomach. He doubled over and staggered away, groaning. The knife fell out of his hand and he reached down to pick it up.

  I rushed for the weapon, and our hands met upon its handle. We struggled for a moment, but it was clear he was going to win. Our gazes locked. As I lost my grip on the knife, I stared into his eyes, trying to see if there was any hint of recognition, anything I could use to bring my husband back to reality.

  Nothing. Just pure fear.

  I glanced down. It was a camera mounted on his chest. I wrapped my fingers around it and pulled as hard as I could.

  Andrew cried out as the metal plate affixing the camera to his chest tore free. The flesh underneath was red and blistered and bloody and I realized with horror that the plate had been burned onto him.

  He slapped me, hard, but I didn’t let go.

  The camera ripped free, taking pieces of skin with it.

  Andrew howled with pain and pressed his hand to the wound. “My beacon!” he shouted.

  I flung the camera toward the woods as hard as I could. It smacked into a tree and fell to the ground.

  Andrew got to his feet, whimpering. “Where is it? What did you do with it?”

  “Andrew, please! You’re not in your right mind! They did something to you!”

  “Where’s my beacon?”

  “Your name is Andrew Mayhem. Andrew Mayhem! It’s a goofy name, but it’s yours!”

  “I know what my fucking name is!”

  “I’m Helen Mayhem. I’m your wife.”

  “I don’t have a wife.”

  “Theresa is your daughter. Kyle is your son.”

  “Shut up!”

  “Andrew, I love you!” I said, somehow managing to stand up. “We all love you!”

  Andrew slammed his hands over his ears. “Shut up!”

  “Andrew, please, come back to us!”

  It was working. I could feel it working.

  “I said shut up!”

  I stepped toward him. My leg wobbled and I nearly lost my balance, but I did it.

  “This isn’t you.”

  “You don’t know who I am!”

  “I know exactly who you are. You’re the man I married.”

  Andrew stared at me.

  Was that a flash of recognition in his eyes?

  A flash of love?

  “Helen…?” he asked.

  “Yes, it’s me!”

  His voice cracked. “Helen… what have I done?”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Andrew thought, I’ve lost my beacon, that’s what I’ve done.

  “It wasn ‘t your fault,” it said. “They did something to you.”

  I nodded. “Yes, they did something to me.”

  Blood gushed from where the demon had ripped off my beacon. It poured out like a waterfall. I didn’t even know I had that much blood, but yet it gushed out, soaking into the ground.

  The larger demon took another step toward me. I forced myself not to cry out in fear or disgust. I had no idea what trick this creature was trying to play by insisting it was my wife… my wife, if such a revolting thing could even be imagined… but maybe if I played along I could defeat it.

  “Where are Roger and Samantha?” the demon asked.

  I shrugged.

  “Are they alive?”

  Yes? No? What was the best answer? Did this demon fear them? Did this demon need them?

  “I don’t know,” I said.

  The demon stepped away from me. Its scaly, slimy skin glistened in the sunlight. “I’m taking Theresa,” it said.

  It crouched down next to the fallen demon. I couldn’t let it take the little one. I’d be punished if I didn’t slay them. I had to kill them as quickly as possible.

  “I’m going to send help for you,” the demon said. “Everything will be okay, I promise.”

  The demon scooped up the smaller creature in its wretched arms.

  Blood continued to pour from my chest. And then it squirted from my eye. I wasn’t sure how I could see with blood squirting out of my eye, but I could. Suddenly it squirted out of both eyes.

  “Stop it!” I demanded, rubbing at my eyes to block the flow. “I need that blood in me!”

  Th
e blood that had soaked into the ground bubbled to the surface, quickly rising over my shoes.

  The demon had cursed me.

  I saw faces in the blood. Screaming faces. Laughing faces. Crying faces. All of them looking at me.

  I turned and ran.

  I didn’t care if I’d be punished. I didn’t care if the demons got away. I had to escape, get out of here before I drowned in my own blood and the faces sunk their fangs into me.

  I ran into the forest. Sap oozed from the trees, trapping birds and squirrels and other forest animals within. Razor blades flowed in the sap, slicing the poor things without mercy.

  I smacked into a tree, knocking my face off. It hit the ground, face-down. I continued running, leaving it behind.

  Trees reached for me with their branches, ripping off my arms and legs, which were replaced with new arms and legs for the trees to rip off. I’d never realized I had so many arms and legs.

  I wished my chest would quit bleeding. This was getting ridiculous.

  As I ran, I glanced behind me (without turning my head, which was odd) and saw a giant pile of my twitching arms and legs. I could also see a tongue flapping around in there, even though my own tongue was clearly still in my… oh, nope, wait, it was gone.

  I ran out into a dirt clearing. An infinite clearing, where the trees couldn’t detach any more of my limbs.

  In fact, the clearing was kind of boring.

  I twiddled my thumbs.

  I twiddled my tongues, since I now seemed to have two.

  That demon had looked kind of familiar, now that I thought about it. Maybe I’d tried to slay her in some other plane of existence. Maybe we’d dated. It seemed unlikely that I’d ever dated a demon, but I’d done some experimenting in college.

  I heard a sound like a squeaky faucet handle turning, and the blood flow from my chest grew weaker and weaker until it stopped altogether. With a sound like a zipper closing, the wound healed, leaving only a scar that read “Do Not Pry Open.”

  The ground rumbled.

  Earthquake!

  Or a tornado with ground-rumbling properties!

  Tornado with ground-rumbling properties. That was just silly. I laughed at my own foolishness, which was difficult with seventeen or eighteen tongues in my mouth.

  And my severed pinky. I wondered how that got in there.

  Something emerged from the ground in front of me. I hoped it was a bag of gold instead of a zombie.