Scribner Horror Bundle: Four Horror Novels by Joshua Scribner

by Joshua Scribner

  Outside the bar were two large sections of palm trees. The trees were divided, giving a partial view of the ocean. In the moonlight that came down and reflected from the ocean up to the shore Celeste could see the beach but not see the source of the energy she detected. She left the patio and moved toward the trees, feeling that the source was closer as she moved. She slowed as she came to the path in the trees, realizing that the lifeforce that she’d sensed was even stronger than she had thought. Possibly more than she could take. But she kept moving on the path anyway, not able to resist.

  On the other side of the trail, she still did not see the source. But she could feel it creeping closer and closer to her. She was soon able to localize it. It was in the palms. She closed her eyes, so as to block out more sensation, so she could focus more on the lifeforce. She waited as it crept toward her. It got so close that she could not only sense its heat; she could hear it moving. Then it stopped.

  Celeste was confused. She wanted for it, for him, to come to her. But it wasn’t moving. It was more drawing her to it than she was drawing it to her. And she couldn’t resist. She had to have that lifeforce. Not only did she sense it was more than what most men have. She could feel that it was qualitatively different, more beautiful. She opened her eyes. She moved into the palm trees.

  She didn’t see him before she felt his touch. Immediately, she felt heat, but it was mostly her own, connecting to the heat in him, wanting to take it. He pulled her close, so that she could not see his face. Then he pushed her back against a tree. He pulled her skirt up, but not over her head, just enough to uncover the necessary parts. She felt the roughness of the palm tree against her bare skin, but didn’t care. She only cared to take from this man. She could feel that he was already naked. Then she felt him push inside her. He didn’t have to be inside for her to take his heat. It was just a thousand times faster this way and way more invigorating. She felt his lifeforce rush into her, and she pulled. It was something she didn’t know how she did, but something she could do, nonetheless.

  And then, before she could even take much from him, with most of the lifeforce still his own, the man pulled away from her.

  “No, come back,” she said. But he didn’t obey her. She could not control his will. She tried to look at him, but he moved away too fast, deeper into the trees. She started to give chase, but as soon as she leaned from the tree, she felt it. Her heart was picking up very fast.

  This had happened before. It had happened early on, when she had taken too much, before her new body was ready to handle it. She stopped and sat down, right on the ground, waiting for it to pass.

  But it didn’t pass. Her heart continued to speed up. It became like a machine gun firing in her chest. Soon, it was all she felt and all she heard. The night seemed to grow darker, and she realized that she was dying. Her heart continued to pick up speed.

  In those last few moments, Celeste realized that she had been tricked. She’d taken in a lifeforce that was poison to her. Her heart exploded.

  She was in the tunnel again. She saw the light.

  ***

  “Her mother was a prostitute,” Dr. Porter said.

  They were now in a car, though he didn’t know why. His clients were all dead now. Where else did he need to go before he died?

  “And she must have not been a prostitute out of necessity. Not because she was supporting a drug habit, or needed money otherwise. She must have liked it. She liked to get men to do things for her. She liked to use her sexual magnetism to take from men.”

  The angel did not speak to this.

  Dr. Porter thought of what Celeste’s father must have been. It seemed clear enough. Her father would have been the same, only he took from women.

  Under most circumstances, these two people wouldn’t have been attracted to each other. Her father would like women he could take from, not women who took. Her mother would be the same way with men. But somehow, as it occasionally did, the unlikely happened and they got together for a night. And they made Celeste.

  “Both parents found meaning in life from what they could take from the opposite sex. And Celeste could take so much more than either of them could.”

  At that final conclusion, the angel nodded.

  They drove until morning. They left the main road and continued into the desert. They were miles away from anybody, when they left the car. It wasn’t Dr. Porter’s car, but one they had stolen. Dr. Porter’s car had been abandoned in a rough area of Phoenix. No doubt, it had been taken by now.

  They walked for miles into the desert, where the angel left him. His body collapsed. It was no good now. Now that the angel had altered the energy inside, he would not be able to control his body again. He realized that, as his car had been taken by thieves, so would his body be taken by scavengers.

  No one would know what happened to him. He was only inside his body, painlessly, for a few more seconds. Then he was in the tunnel. He saw the light.

  Nescata

  A Novel

  Copyright 2011 Joshua Scribner

  Originally published by Double Dragon 2007

  Smashwords Edition

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the author.

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This novel is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  Chapter 1

  Summer 1997

  Jacob Sims pressed gently on the brake. He slowed to a stop and turned left on the same Oklahoma dirt road he’d turned on a thousand times before. Dodging loose shale, he made what he thought would be his last approach to his parents’ home.

  To his left, a level field of dry land and straw stretched out, eventually giving way to a giant cluster of weeds and trees. The pasture on the right was tall yellow-green grass, holding several tractors, most rusted and stripped of their insides. Ahead, a clearing opened in the grass, and in that clearing stood a country home. Jacob stopped, then pulled up the driveway, hearing the rumble of small white rocks shooting from underneath his tires and crashing into each other. At the top of the driveway, an old Ford Falcon and a blue service pickup sat idle. These two vehicles had been there when Jacob left this morning. He was grateful, knowing this meant that no one was home. He needed the solitude to complete his plan.

  Jacob stopped at the top of the driveway and sat, trying not to think too much. He only wanted to think of his breath and what he wanted to do. His familiar sense of vague tension was there, but for the last couple of hours, he'd been able to keep it on the perimeter of his mind. He knew his calm was artificial and that he wouldn’t be able to make it last.

  Jacob got out of the car and walked up the sidewalk to the house. No door handle or latch on the screen door, he just grabbed metal and pulled. Several boots and shoes were scattered about the floor of the interior back porch. Jacob scanned them until he found an old galosh. He picked it up, took a key out from under it and used that key to unlock the back door. He rushed through the house on the way to his parents’ room. He folded back a closet door. On the rack were his mother’s dresses, slacks and shirts. Old sweaters, sweatshirts and coats were strewn about on the shelf above that rack. Jacob reached a hand up on the shelf and pushed it under the winter clothing until he felt cold steel. He pulled out a black .22 pistol.

  #

  Jacob packed the pistol under the driver’s seat of his Ford Escort, then walked back in
side the house. In his old room, he grabbed a notebook and a pen from his suitcase. He carried them to the kitchen table, flipped to an open page and then wrote. The letter lacked the detail he knew should be there, but he feared that opening himself up would cause the tension to rush in and take him over again. He left the letter in the center of the table.

  Jacob got in his car and drove further down the dirt road. After a mile, he glanced at a compost dump that ran from the side of the road down a hill into Bull Creek. This sight reminded Jacob of years ago, when he used to fish with his older friend Todd. But now, trash and chemicals had turned the water black. And Todd was dead.

  Jacob continued down the road for two miles, turned west, drove another three miles, then went south again, around a curve and onto a lease road. There was a sign at the entrance that had never been there before.

  NO TRESPASSING. THIS SHALE PIT IS CHECKED ROUTINELY BY LOCAL POLICE.

  The sign reminded him of the night his mother had called him at school and said that two people had died in a car accident after coming from one of the shale pit parties. She had said she was reluctant to tell him at all, since he had already lost three friends this year.

  The lease road sloped down into the pit. Jacob drove around a large pile of red shale. Now the road wasn't visible. On the other side of his car stood a group of trees.

  “Out of view,” he whispered.

  As Jacob got out of the car, something stabbed his leg. With his empty hand, he reached into the pocket of his jean shorts and pulled out a key. He threw the key and watched it land in the red dirt. A slight feeling of power came with the certainty. He crawled up on the car’s roof and sat there, cross-legged, with the gun in his right hand, pressed against the steel of the car. Several memories of this place fell on him at once. Two deep breaths and the memories separated and came one by one.

  There was the memory of the first party, with the visions of the shocked but pleasant faces of people he had known all his life, but not really spoken to before that night. Then there was the memory of seeing them in other places and forgetting how to connect with them again.

  More parties and more faces came, but the results were always the same.

  “Why could I only do it here? What’s wrong with me?”

  Jacob pushed thoughts away and regained calm. Soon, he was busy smacking himself and wiping sweat from his brow. He laughed. “Oklahoma Summer: the humidity and the mosquitoes don’t fuck around.”

  He took another deep breath. He pulled the gun up and placed the barrel under his chin. He placed his finger on the trigger. He felt the certainty right up to the instant before he pulled it.

  #

  There’s a ringing in Jacob’s ears, and on his face is the remnant sensation of the gust from the blast, where, a few moments ago, the bullet passed inches away. He is now off the car, pacing back and forth in a straight line. His body shakes and his eyes are wide open. The air rushes in and out and fills him with energy. He’s thrown on his back and his body twitches spasmodically. At first, he’s terrified. But as the movements become faster and more violent, he feels less connected to them and his mind becomes calmer. His body is there with him and he senses it, but somehow, it does not feel like his own.

  The energy seems to slowly take form and connect every part of him. His body stops shaking and becomes like one solid muscle, pulsing with charge. Then, even the pulsing stops and he can only feel energy. And though that energy is with him, he feels separate from that too. The world fades into red and then into black. There is the sensation of rising into the sky. It feels incredible, magical. Without effort, he’s floating. His consciousness is moving with the energy. It’s not like a dream. His thoughts are rational, and he is fully aware. Higher and higher he moves, and he’s moving faster all the while. There is the thought that he is being taken away. But there is no fear.

  This is what I wanted, he thinks. The life he had and all the tension seem far away. He wonders where he will go, where this energy will take him. The rising slows down, then stops completely. It’s as if he’s come up against a ceiling in the sky. He still only senses the energy and his consciousness, but the energy is pulling away.

  A third part comes, some kind of resistance. This part tries to hold onto the energy. But the energy builds up against it like water against a dam. Not knowing why, he fears the resistance will break. But his fear doesn’t seem to matter. The energy continues to build against the resistance. It becomes so strong that he knows the resistance will break.

  Starting at his head and proceeding down, little by little, Jacob becomes aware of his body. There is light again. It comes back slowly, until he can see the Earth directly below. He sees himself below. His body is still on top of his car. It sits there cross-legged, head down. The gun is still in his hand, held out in front of his face.

  There is the sensation of air in his lungs. He tries to cry out, to wake the person down on the car, but there is only enough air to produce a slight noise. His new body begins to tilt back and forth in the sky as his resistance breaks down against the escaping energy. The air comes back to his lungs, and he stores it up.

  The top of his new body leans forward and holds there, but he is able to hold his head up. Not sure that there is enough air yet, but afraid to wait any longer, he pushes the air out of his lungs. This time there is more sound than before.

  “Jacob! Wake up!”

  The person on the car does not react. The last of the energy trickles away. He somersaults twice in the air and then sees the red earth rushing at him.

  #

  Jacob came to in the dark. At first, he thought he was dead. Then he tasted the air and began to sense his body. He felt the metal underneath him. He opened his eyes, and found himself still on the car.

  For a moment, he could only sit there and wonder what was real. But a new feeling soon overtook him, a feeling that he was completely unfamiliar with. Something had been lifted, and this new feeling, this new urge, was left. Jacob searched for an explanation and one stood out.

  “Oh no!”

  He set the gun down beside him, and then slowly moved one hand under his chin and one hand to the top of his head. There was no wound. He sighed in relief. But there was still no explanation for what had happened.

  After climbing off the car, Jacob inspected the rest of his body. It was drenched with sweat, but not dirty.

  “I was never on the ground. I was not in the sky.”

  His mind felt sharp and clear, wide open. In it, he searched again for something rational to explain it all. Nothing came.

  The urge within him grew, but it wasn’t a straining urge, like severe hunger or an uncontrollable sex drive. It was more of a calm desire, like magical fascination. He walked around. The sound of a bird drew his attention. The bird was out of sight, but he continued to look around anyway.

  “It’s this place. There’s something here. There has always been something here.”

  On the other side of the hill of shale, Jacob continued to look around, inspecting his surroundings. Wind whistled and leaves of trees rustled. He stepped toward those trees and the urge ebbed. When he stopped, it started to build up again. As he waited, it took him over and Jacob thought he understood it a little more.

  “No, it’s not here.”

  Jacob returned to his car and placed the pistol in the passenger seat. He barely noticed the heat as he settled into the driver’s side. Red dust flew into the air as he backed the car up. His car swiveled as he sped to the exit. There, he stopped. He looked back through his dust-clouded rear window then to the gun in the seat beside him.

  “It’s not this place, Jacob,” he whispered. “The tension isn’t going to come back.”

  But still, his eyes were on the gun. Jacob slowly let off the brake without pressing on the accelerator. His car crawled through the exit. On the other side, he stopped and waited for the tension to return. He placed his hand on the pistol. Only a taste and he would be satisfied. Just a tickle of
the old stuff and he would know what to do. He wouldn’t even bother hiding again. And he’d put it in his mouth, so there wouldn’t be time to pull it away.

  Seconds turned into minutes. Still, there was only the calm and the urge. But he remembered moments of fleeting happiness from the past and how the tension always rushed back in to take things over.

  “Forever a pessimist, Jacob. Just a little while longer.”

  More minutes passed. In his mind, he searched for the tension. He even tried to make it come. His mind remained calm and his thoughts crisp. The urge grew. Again, he tried to know what he urged for. But he couldn’t place it. Slowly, he loosened his grip, until he didn’t feel the gun anymore. It seemed far away. He placed his hand back on the steering wheel, satisfied.

  Jacob drove toward his parents’ house. As the urge grew, Jacob felt it come into focus. He realized that he didn’t need to look for anything. What he longed for would find him. What he felt was anticipation. And what he wanted was close now. It had to be, because the feeling was strong.

  It wasn’t until he was most of the way back that he saw something that scared him and killed the anticipation. There was a big cloud of dirt up ahead, and he wondered if it was possible that his mom could be coming home already. He knew it couldn’t be his dad, who never came home early on a weekday. And his sister, Tyla, had said she had to work late. But visitors were rare down this road. He thought of the suicide letter he left sitting in the middle of the kitchen table.

  By the time he reached the driveway, Jacob could see that it was a white car coming toward him. Both his mom and Tyla drove white cars, his mom a new Bonneville and Tyla an old Caprice. He couldn’t quite make out the shape, but he didn’t think there was time to wait.

  Trying to rush up the driveway, Jacob spun the tires of his Escort. Seconds later, he looked down at the road as he got out of the car.