The Collected Horrors of Tim Wellman

by Tim Wellman

  It was going to be a hot and humid night, he could feel the heat still in the air even as the sun was dimming for the evening. He had found a cave deep in the woods last month after a long illness that he figured almost killed him. He had thought it a tomb at the time, but as he got better he realized it was well hidden and close enough to the town of Wayne to walk up there sometimes and see what he could find in the bins and dumpsters around the poorer lit areas. He didn't like doing it, there was always the chance he would be harassed by the police or ill-mannered townsfolk, but sometimes it was necessary to keep from starving to death. Twelve Pole Creek was less than a mile's walk and, being summer, he could sometimes manage to scoop out a few sunfish or an occasion snapping turtle.

  The cave suited him for shelter, though, and he could burn a small fire without anyone spotting the smoke. It was deep enough to hide in if he ever had the need, but he had never been more than twenty feet or so inside because it rapidly turned pitch dark. He wasn't even sure just how far back it went. He threw a few rocks into the blackness once and didn't hit a wall, so it could go on for miles. He had occasionally heard sounds coming from the darkness, though, and he assumed it was bats or perhaps there was an underground stream back there. It was the wrong country for bear or big cats, so he wasn't really worried. The noises were a welcome disturbance as he spent his hours mostly in silence unless the little girl came.

  The little girl, existing, he was certain, only in his mind, would visit occasionally in the evenings and sit with him and talk. Since she was an hallucination, he never bothered to see where she came from, she just seemed to be there sometimes, sitting in the darkness of the cave until he noticed her. Then she would come out into the light or sit around the fire and talk for a few hours. Then as quickly, she would leave, most times in mid-sentence and never with a goodbye.

  They talked about life, mostly, things past. It was one of the reasons he knew she wasn't real; she knew too much about life when he was a boy, even things about him. She always dressed the same, too, in clothes from a bygone era, perhaps even older than his own childhood. And even though she was only four or five years old, she seemed intelligent, more intelligent than most of the adults he had met in his lifetime. But, regardless, he enjoyed the company, even if there was every reason to belief it was just his own.

  The sky had turned quickly, confused with scattered clouds, and had turned the entire landscape an eerie pink color as he looked out of the cave. It was always surprising, but he enjoyed it mostly because the odd shade made it easier to see through the woods. He never felt safe, and he was no longer physically able to defend himself from most threats, so the better he could see, the more time he had to react. But he had been there for weeks and had seen no one except the girl. He knew the roads, where the various sub-divisions had carved up the wilderness, and the cave was far enough from both to go unnoticed.

  He tossed the fish bones into the little fire and sat down on a long bench he had assembled himself from fallen logs. "You never eat, do you?" he said. The child stepped out of the shadows and joined him by the fire, sitting down beside him. "I've only just noticed that about you."

  "You were thinking about your old home again, weren't you?" she said. He had also noticed she never seemed to answer any questions directly.

  "I guess," he said. "I think it must be my birthday today." He poked around the fire, pushing the larger unburned pieces of wood out of the direct flames so it would go out quicker.

  "I was there today," she said. She tossed something into the fire that caused the flame to die down but glow and turn bright white. He had seen her do it many times, in fact most every time she came and there was a fire. She seemed to enjoy the light but not the heat. "I visited the house. A new family just moved in, I wanted to see them."

  "Oh," he said. She had told him before about going to the old house, walking around the town. Apparently, according to his madness, she couldn't be seen by most people, only those she chose to see her. "Has it changed, then? The new family, have they made changes?"

  "Some," she said. "They have a young child so they have added a swing and things to the yard like your parents did for you." She looked up at him though he was still staring into the fire. "Does that bother you?"

  He nodded. There was no reason to lie. A part of him wished the house would remain untouched, a time capsule; it was easier to remember if he knew it was still the same, and if he didn't remember he felt like it would just disappear. "It will never be a part of my life again, still..."

  "Still," she said. She pointed outside. "I like that color."

  "Pink?" he said. "I guess pink is for little girls."

  "Will you go with me?" she said. "To see the house?"

  "No," he said. She seemed to ask him that question quite often even though his answer was always the same. He stood up and walked around nervously, his eyes focused on the ground in front of him. "I've asked before, but what connection do you have to the house?"

  "Blue is for boys, right?" she said. "Pink is for girls; blue is for boys."

  "I can't go there," he said. "The only undefiled thing I have left is that memory."

  "Do you remember how your mother smelled?" the little girl said.

  He hadn't thought about it, not since he was a child, that smell. He nodded. "I do now," he said. "I remember."

  She held out her hand and he was confused. He didn't know what she wanted him to do. He had never touched her before.

  "Smell," she said.

  He bent over and smelled her hand. It was his mother's smell; locked away for most of his life, but he recognized it; it was her. "But how?" he whispered. "Have you seen her? Does it come from the house? Something of hers there?"

  "Will you go with me?" she said. She withdrew her hand and placed both in her lap.

  "No," he said.

  "I saw her little beasties today," she said. "They're displayed on the board above the fireplace."

  He was shocked. He tried to make it to the bench, but ended up dropping to his knees. He was staring directly into her eyes. "Only my mom would use those words... for her glass animals," he said. "How..."

  "Your fire is dying," she said.

  He took a breath and tried to remember he was simply talking to a make-believe phantom. Of course she would know, because he knew. "I'll push the bigger pieces back into the middle," he said as he stood up. But as he stepped across the bench, she was gone.

  He felt drained; with every visit the little girl made, she seemed more real. Who and what was she, really? A madman's waking dream? Angel? Ghost? He allowed the fire to die and stretched out on the bench and closed his eyes for the night.

  ****

  He opened his eyes to the sound of birds... a noisy mockingbird, several cooing doves, and an untuned orchestra of unknown chirps and whistles. It would be dawn soon. He yawned and sat up but was then startled to his feet. She was there. She was never there in the morning, but she was there today. He coughed thinking that might make the hallucination go away. But it didn't. She sat on the dirt floor, silently, her long black hair falling across her face and eyes, her knees up and embraced in her folded arms. She was a poor-looking child, dirty and ragged, homeless like him, he imagined. Created in his own image, he thought.

  "You startled me," he said. "Have you been there long?"

  She stood up and dusted the dirt off her butt. "Not long," she said. "I'm going to your mother's house again today."

  "Oh," he said. "Don't wait for me. I'm not going."

  "You have to go sooner or later," she said. "You know that, don't you?" She headed toward the darkness of the cave and then stopped and looked back at him. "You can't keep avoiding the truth." She disappeared into the darkness.

  He wasn't sure what she was talking about but she seemed stranger than usual. "Hey, I thought you were going to our family house?" He pointed toward the entrance of the cave. He shook his head and prepared for the day, what little preparations were actually required. He needed
to sweep up the floor and fire area and carry the food scraps and refuse away from the cave to keep wild animals from following the rotten smell, and he thought he would go gather enough muscles out of the creek for dinner. He looked back into the cave again. "If you're going out today, be careful! There's a lot of bad people out there who might want to hurt you if they see you!" There was no answer. There never was. The cave must go back miles, he thought. It probably opened up on the other end and that was where she stayed. Then he caught himself. He was forgetting more and more often that she wasn't real. He wasn't sure if that was a sign of sanity or insanity.

  She was suddenly standing beside him again and he jumped as she touched his arm with her small, cold hand. She was real. "You don't need to fight it, you know," she said. "It has been long enough. I just saw her. Your mother worries so about you."

  He sat down on the bench and held his face in his hands. "She is the only reason I need to keep living. I'm the only one who remembers." There was no answer, and he looked up to see the girl's face only inches away from his own as she bent over toward him.

  "She wants you to come home," she said. "It's ready for you. She fought me as hard as you have, but she's all right now." She straightened up and seemed to float across the ground and toward the darkness. "Will you go with me?"

  "When did she die? My mommy."

  The little girl smiled. "A few weeks ago," she said. "Right after you did."

  He nodded. "I should go, then," he said.

  "Yes," she said.

  He stood up and walked toward the darkness and the little girl grabbed his hand. He was her size, now, a little boy again. "No one will remember I ever lived, will they."

  She shook her head. "Does it matter now?"

  He thought for a moment. "No, I reckon not."

  Cellar Doors

  Based on no known or even questionable scientific principles, no known belief system or religion, not even a good hunch, seven year old Theodora Livingston believed the cellar of her family's nineteenth century farmhouse was full of evil creatures. And not only that, she had, with much deliberation over the last several months, decided there was probably a gateway to hell there, too. Her big sister, Junie, had tried many times to convince her otherwise, even offered to take her down into the cellar to check it out when she first formulated the belief, but Theo couldn't be convinced... that there were no demons, and to go down there and see for herself. But, as the months passed and she grew braver, the lure of the cellar was starting to consume her even more and outweigh her fears. She would go down there; she was ready to solve the puzzle.

  "Your little sister is so weird," Susan said. She was sitting in front of Junie's television, playing a video game. "Ack! The zombie boss!" She leaned toward the TV, her fingers feverishly clicking the controller buttons.

  "She's not weird," Junie said as she rolled over on her bed and closed the manga she was reading. "She's just a little kid who watches too many scary movies. And now she's decided she's ready to go down in the cellar and hunt demons." She pointed at the screen. "Aim for his head! Aim for his head!"

  "Ha! Take that, undead scum!" She had cleared the level and was busy saving the game. "You should just take her down there and let her look around."

  "Yeah, I know," Junie said. "But that place is a filthy mess."

  "She told me she had started hearing something scratching on the cellar door, now." She put the controller down and got up off the floor, and then plopped down on the bed beside Junie.

  "I know," Junie said. "I checked; there are no scratch marks or anything at all on the inside of the door."

  "Hey, let's all go down there," Susan said. "We'll pretend we hear demons and stuff and scare the shit out of her."

  "You're mean," Junie said. "She's a little girl; she can't be traumatized like that." She rolled off the bed and onto her feet, and then walked to the bookshelf behind her desk and pushed the comic book she had just finished back into its place. "I think she'll eventually get tired of the whole idea and move on to something else."

  "She'll have other interests once she loses her virginity," Susan said.

  "Well, that's going to be a while, she's only seven."

  "I lost my virginity when I was seven," Susan said.

  "Oh, you did not!" Junie said.

  "Yep, lost it to your dad."

  They both burst out laughing. "You goof," Junie said. "Let's raid the fridge!"

  "Good idea!"

  They walked out of Junie's room and down the hall, past Theodora's room. Susan stopped, scratched her fingernails on her door, and then caught up with Junie. Theodora yanked her door open, looked one way, and then spotted the two girls walking past in the other direction. "Very funny!"

  "I thought so, weird kid!" Susan said.

  "We're making sandwiches, Theo, you want one?" Junie said.

  The child quickly caught up with the teenagers and they all gathered around the refrigerator as Junie opened the door. "Let's see, we've got turkey loaf, some horrible meat product spread, and chicken salad."

  "Chicken salad!" Theodora and Susan said at the same time.

  "I'll take the turkey," Junie said. "We'll save the meat product shit for mom and dad."

  "I'm telling!" Theodora said.

  "No you're not," Junie said. "'Cause if you tell on me for cussing, I'll never take you down into the cellar to look around. Ever!"

  "So, have you figured out what's down there, weird kid?" Susan said. "Demons, ghosts, giant killer mutant zombie rats?"

  "You're making fun of me, aren't you?" Theodora said.

  Susan nodded as she smeared a slice of bread with chicken salad, and then slapped another slice on top and handed it to her. "Eat! You demon hunters need to keep your strength up."

  "Ha ha! You won't be making fun when those monsters down there finally get through the cellar door and are loosed upon the world!"

  "'Loosed upon the world'? Who talks like that?" Susan said.

  "It was in a movie she saw last week," Junie said. "Invasion of the something-or-others from space."

  "Brain-Sucking Fiends," Theodora said.

  Susan shook her head. "What kind of seven year old watches movies like that? I'm sixteen and even I can't watch that stuff without having nightmares!"

  Theodora took a bite of her sandwich and sat quietly observing the two teenagers. They were pretty scrawny, not the good stout material of demon-fighters, but they were the closest thing available and might make a good backup team, or at least good bait. "We should go down there and look around."

  "Why would we want to do that," Junie said. "According to you, there are things down there that would rip us apart, steal our souls, eat our brains... did I miss anything?"

  "Turn us into zombies?" Susan said.

  "That's where mom and dad put all their old clothes," Theodora said. "There's probably really cool eighties stuff down there that's back in style, now."

  "Free vintage?" Susan said.

  "You're being manipulated by a seven year old," Junie said. "Okay, okay, let's go down and look around." She pointed at Theodora. "This should put an end to all this stupid shit about demons and stuff, right?"

  "Well, unless she's right," Susan said.

  Junie sighed and shook her head. "They don't have to turn us into zombies, you guys are already there."

  "Do you really mean it? We're going down there?" Theodora said. "Hold on a sec!" She took off running back to her room.

  "She chicken out already?" Susan said.

  Junie shrugged. "Who knows."

  "Okay, let's do this!" Theodora said. She walked back into the kitchen with a big backpack on, a yellow hardhat with a built-in flashlight, and some sort of small hammer in her hand. The other two just stared at her. "What? It's a demon fighting kit," she said.

  "What if they're ghosts?" Junie said.

  "Got it covered," Theodora said. She reached into a small pocket on the side of her pack and pulled something out. "EMF detector."

 
; "Emergency food?" Susan said.

  "A dozen packs of cheesy crackers and a six-pack of peanut butter cups."

  "Garlic and wooden stakes for vampires?" Susan said.

  "Uh, no," Theodora said. "Don't be stupid; this is serious business."

  "Okay, come on," Junie said. She walked into the smaller pantry off the kitchen, and put her hand on the cellar door. "So, anyone want to guess what we find?"

  "Dirt. Spiders. Rats. Old crap. Canned green beans from 1993," Susan said.

  "Theo?"

  "I hope you guys are right," she said. She shrugged. "But I know what I know."

  "Which is?" Junie said.

  "There's something evil down there that is trying to find a way to get out, and it's getting closer every day."

  Junie opened the door, then closed it, then opened it again. "It's not locked. They could just open the door and walk out. Or do demons not understand how doorknobs work?"

  "It's not like that," Theodora said. "It's not a physical door holding them back, it's a spiritual door."