Bad Places

by Steven Douglas Brown

Billy was sitting on a chair.

  “A guy confesses to killing three people and does not go to prison.” He shook his head. “They supposedly found evidence to prove that Jennifer killed Brady. The miracle of modern forensics, I suppose. Although I bet an outside influence was involved. Jenny’s death was called self-defense.”

  A video camera was recording Billy’s statement.

  “Mr. Sullivan performed his exorcism in the house afterward. Although it was like adding smoke detectors after the house already burned down. He and his team are still out there, chasing things that go bump in the night.”

  Billy paused and looked down for a moment before continuing.

  “The house quickly got a reputation in the area and every kid in town think it’s haunted. I’ve never been back to find out. Since Mrs. Sterling was never found, there wasn’t even a grace for her.”

  Billy looked tired.

  “The police kept an eye on me for a long time afterward, but even they got bored and gave up. Teddy stopped talking to me after the funerals. I don’t blame him. People avoid me like I have a target on my back and I really don’t blame them, either.”

  Billy exhaled.

  “Now, I’m just waiting...”

  A sound.

  Billy turned quickly in the chair, peering into the darkness behind him. He dismissed it and turned to face the camera again.

  “Waiting...”

  THE END.

  Haunting Myself

  by

  Steven Douglas Brown

  ©2017 Steven Douglas Brown

  John Link opened the front door and stepped inside, looking around, leaving the door open behind him. The interior of the house was empty, dusty, and the windows were without curtains, the afternoon light streaming in harshly. John Link was in his late 20’s, friendly-looking, thin and tall, his dark hair longish and curling at the ends. “Not bad,” he said to himself.

  Jason Colin walked in behind John and looked around, wrinkling his nose at what he saw; Jason was the same age as John, but was overweight and shorter, the archetypal buddy from high school. “This is the best the company could come up with?” Jason said, his voiced edged with disgust. “Seriously?” He looked around, wrinkling his nose and rolling his eyes.

  “What’s wrong with it?”

  “What’s wrong? It looks like my grandma’s place!”

  “I thought you said your grandma is in a retirement home.”

  “She is, and this place smells just like it!”

  John took a sniff. “Really?”

  “My main man comes back to town as the biggest programmer in the country, with the biggest game release in history, and the company puts him up in this!? You should have held out for a condo downtown, dude!”

  John shook his head. “I don’t like being downtown. The drive gives me time to think and I need a lot of time to think these days.”

  “Your first thought should be finding a better place.”

  “I like it. It’s a quiet neighborhood.”

  “This place doesn’t exactly scream out Chick Magnet.”

  “I have way too much work to do to worry about that, Jason.”

  “What!? That’s crazy talk! You’re rich, famous, and in the prime of your life!”

  “I’m not as rich as you think, I’m only famous to gamers who are online way too much, and I think the prime of my life is still a few years off.”

  Jason sighed dramatically and shrugged his shoulders. “If we’re going to do this, let’s do this.”

  “Good idea.”

  “I expect a cold beer waiting for me when we finish unloading all your stuff!” Jason called out as he turned around and walked outside.

  John followed his friend out the door.

  After John disappeared from sight, the door moved slightly, perhaps a few inches.

  Night, and John and Jason were sitting on a sofa, feet up on cardboard boxes, watching a TV leaned up against the far wall. Both were sipping from bottles of beer.

  “Thanks for helping, buddy.”

  “No problem.” Jason was like a walking sweat stain, dark circles around his arm pits, his chest, and his hair was damp from sweat.

  “No, really, I’d still be out there packing in boxes if it wasn’t for you.”

  “Hey, that’s what friends are for.”

  “I owe you.”

  Jason waved him off. “Don’t worry about it.”

  The two sat in silence for a moment, sipping their beer, staring at the TV.

  “Wish I had more time to look around before starting work tomorrow.”

  “There’s nothing new to look at, John. It’s still the same town you left ten years ago.”

  “Maybe I want to relive some old memories.”

  “Like what? Where Hank Monroe beat you up in high school?”

  “You mean where he beat us up!”

  “I don’t need to relive that memory,” Jason said in a low tone. “All I have to do is look in the mirror at my fake front teeth to be reminded of when that happened!”

  “He still isn’t around, is he?”

  “I think so. Hank Monroe isn’t exactly the type of guy I look to hang out with on a Friday night.”

  “Is he still the same?”

  “Worse.”

  “Worse? And he isn’t doing time somewhere?”

  “Not anymore. He got out a few months back.”

  “Just my luck. What did he do?”

  “Beat some guy to death who was dumb enough to break into Monroe’s house when he was home. He probably could have pleaded self-defense, but he practically broke every bone in the guy’s body with a tire iron.”

  “Guess we got off lucky in high school.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “Who the hell keeps a tire iron... in the house?”

  “Hank Monroe.”

  “I still wouldn’t mind looking around.”

  “It’s early yet. Want to go check out the old hotspots?”

  “Sure.”

  “Let’s jet.”

  John and Jason stood up. “Where first?”

  “How about Beer Bottle Beach?”

  John had a smile on his face as he followed Jason out of the room.

  As John and Jason walked up to Jason’s car, parked in the driveway, they did not see the lights in the living room turn off and then turn back on.

  “Just like the old days,” John said, slumped in the passenger seat as Jason drove the car through town.

  “Really.”

  “No, it is literally like the old days. You’re driving the same car you had in high school!”

  “You don’t give up a classic.”

  “A classic? This is a freaking Gremlin! Your dad gave it to you because he was embarrassed to be seen in it!”

  “You don’t see too many of these bad boys on the streets anymore.”

  “For good reason.”

  “Don’t be hating on my ride, when you don’t even have a car.”

  “My car will be here by tomorrow morning.”

  “Yeah, what are you riding? A Lamborghini?”

  John turned away, looking out the side window, silent.

  Jason quickly glanced at John. “Oh, no, you didn’t! Don’t even say you bought yourself a flipping Lambo!”

  “I didn’t buy a Lamborghini.” John continued to look out the side window. “It was a gift from the company after the game sold twenty million units.”

  The Gremlin came to a screeching stop in the middle of the street, tires locked up, and Jason climbed out of the car. “I thought you said you’re not rich!” he screamed back into the car.

  John stepped out of the car and looked at Jason across the roof of the Gremlin. “I’m not rich. I’m well-off, but nowhere near rich.”

  “How much is well-off?”

  “I’d rather not say.”

  “In this town, well-off is someone who can afford to buy the family-size pizza instead of the medium!”

  “Now I’m th
inking it might be smarter to have the car kept in a garage near the office. Driving it around here might be... conspicuous.”

  “Gee, ya think?”

  “I’ll call the transport guys tomorrow and have the destination changed.”

  “You’re going to let me drive it, right?”

  “We’ll see.” John climbed back into the car.

  Jason leaned down and looked into the car through the open driver’s side door. “I’ll let you drive the Gremlin!”

  “No, thanks.”

  River; night.

  Jason and John stood at the edge of the river, looking out across the dark, languid water that seemed as black as tar at night. “I don’t remember it being this spooky when we were younger,” John said.

  “We were teenagers, John. The only thing that scared a bunch of teenagers with a keg of beer was the cops showing up.”

  “Do kids still come out here?”

  “Not as much.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s easier to catch a buzz from something in the family medicine cabinet than trying to score a case of beer these days.”

  “That’s just sad.”

  “Tell me about it. Half the fun was trying to figure which guy going into a store would buy you beer or report you to the cops.”

  “Those were the days.”

  Jason and John stood in reflective silence for a minute and then John checked his watch.

  “Where do you want to go next?” Jason asked. “The drive-in? The Burger Place?”

  “That’s it? We hung out at three places when we were teenagers?”

  “That’s about it.” Jason looked surprised by his own admission. “Jeez, that is kinda sad, isn’t it?”

  “It’s getting late. I better get home and sleep. Long day at work tomorrow.”

  “Right.”

  “Come downtown tomorrow and I’ll let you drive the Lamborghini.”

  “Really?”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m going home and go to sleep right away so tomorrow will come quicker!”

  “What are you, four years old?”

  Jason hurried off toward the parked Gremlin.

  After Jason dropped him off, John stood on the sidewalk in front of the house and waved as his friend drove off in his tiny vehicle, Jason offering a couple of quick toots on the horn before disappearing around a corner. John walked up to the front door, stopping momentarily and looking at the dark house. “I thought I left the light on,” he muttered to himself. He checked the front door to make sure it was still locked and then took out his keys and unlocked the door. He walked through the house without turning on the lights, moving up the stairs to the second floor, entering his bedroom and immediately stripping down to his boxers, stretching out on the bed, turning on the TV with a remote control. John’s eyes quickly closed and he fell asleep with the TV still on.

  When the bedside digital clock showed 12:46 AM, John opened his eyes and sat up. He looked around, a confused expression on his face. His unfocused eyes spied a shadow near the open bedroom door. “Hello?” John got up off the bed and walked toward the bedroom door, peering out cautiously. Down the hallway, near the stairs leading to the main floor, another shadow could be seen moving quickly, disappearing, melding into the darkness. John shut the bedroom door. He climbed into bed and rolled onto his side, facing away from the door, not seeing light appearing under the door for a moment as the hall light was turned on. John rolled over to face the door a second after the light turned off.

  John was sitting in a large office, behind an equally large desk, the floor-to-ceiling window behind him vertigo-inducing. A large 4K computer monitor was on the desktop, with intricate schematics on the screen, and John was staring at them. He glanced at a wall clock. It was 12:46 PM. John frowned slightly and then returned to studying the schematics on the monitor. “Who gave the OK to this mess?” he asked himself, and then picked up the phone on the desk and punched in an office number.

  Later, John was reading and making notes in a thick file of papers; when he looked up at the clock, was surprised to see that five hours had passed. He turned in his chair and looked out the massive window, seeing that the sun was indeed low on the horizon. John stood, logged off the computer, and walked to the office door. Moving through the doorway, John saw that the expansive work area beyond his office was deserted, empty cubicles stretched out toward the elevator banks on the far side of the office floor. The large room was very quiet, almost unsettling so, and John hesitated before walking toward the elevators. He took about ten steps when he stopped, hearing something. John cocked his head. A familiar sound. The clicking of a keyboard. “Someone still here?” There was no response, except for the continued keyboard tapping. “I’m leaving now. If you’re staying late, make sure to let security know!” John frowned at hearing no answer. He glanced at the elevator and then back toward the sound. He made a frustrated sound deep in his throat and moved back into the cubicle area, tracking down the source of the sound to a particular cubicle, the tapping sound stopping just before he reached the small area. The computer monitor in the cubicle was on, the screen filled with the same four characters, over and over: 11/2. “Is this some sort of hazing-the-new-guy thing? Hello?” John slowly backed out of the cubicle and moved quickly to the elevator bank. The tapping sound returned after John hit the call button. “This stopped being funny about a minute ago!” he called out. The elevator doors opened and John let out a startled yelp at seeing Jason in the elevator.

  “What the hell, dude!” Jason shrieked back, startled. “Scare a guy, why don’t you?”

  John stepped into the elevator. “What are you doing here?” he asked, pressing the lobby button.

  “What are you talking about? I came for that ride.” Jason saw John press the lobby button again and again. “Un, I think you only need to press that button once, dude.”

  “What? Oh. Yeah. The car hasn’t arrived yet.”

  The elevator doors closed.

  “Are you serious? I came all this way for nothing?”

  “It’s not for nothing. You can give me a ride home now.”

  “I bet you don’t even own a Lamborghini.”

  “Believe what you want to believe, Jason.”

  “The least you can do is buy me a drink for my troubles.”

  John nodded. “That sounds good to me. There’s a place across the street.”

  Jason looked over at John. “What’s up?”

  “What?”

  “You look... freaked out.”

  “It’s probably nothing.” John exhaled slowly. “Probably.”

  The sun had already set when John and Jason crossed the street from the office high-rise to a small club in the corner of the building complex the next block over. Live jazz music was being played on a small stage as Jason and John sat down at a table in the dark club, a single votive candle in a decorative holding burning dimly on the table. John swirled his drink with a thin straw, not drinking, just staring at the ice spinning in the glass.

  “You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” Jason observed after several minutes of silence between the two friends.

  “Not yet,” John said.

  “Huh?”

  “Nothing.” John put the drink down without drinking.

  Jason turned to watch the jazz trio. “Jazz is patient.”

  “What?”

  “That’s what my grandpa used to tell me when I was a kid. Jazz is patient. He used to sit and listen to his jazz albums for hours and I couldn’t stand it back then. He told me I would like jazz one day, that jazz would be waiting for me to grow up to appreciate it, because jazz is patient.” Jason chuckled to himself. “He was right.”

  John nodded. He saw a shadow and flinched, but then realized it was simply from someone walking behind them on the way to the rest room. John looked pensive for a moment and then shook his head and lifted his glass, swallowing away the alcohol, the ice cubes making a delicate sound against the thic
k glass.

  John was slumped down in the passenger seat on the ride home, quiet, enough so that Jason glanced over at him. “How do you like the new office?”

  “It’s... alright.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Pretty much.”

  Jason looked over at John again. “You’ve changed, buddy.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You used to be more... fun.”

  “I’m older.”

  “So am I, but I’m still fun!”

  “Really?”

  “You want phone numbers?”

  “No, thanks. I don’t need to talk to your mom.” John and Jason looked at each other and shared a grin. “Just getting used to being back, that’s all.”

  “When am I going to get to drive that car?” Jason asked when they arrived at John’s house.

  “I’ll text you the minute it arrives.”

  “Promise?”

  John ignored the pleading and got out of the car. “Talk to you later.” John pounded on the roof of the car just before Jason drove off, and after the car turned the corner, John turned and looked at the dark house. He did not move for a minute, just stood and stared, then pulled out his keys and walked toward the front door, letting the keys jangle as he reached out to unlock the door. But the door slowly swung open with a slight creak, causing John to actually take a step back in surprise. After a few seconds, John leaned forward and peered inside the dark house through the partially open door, and immediately saw a shadow move inside the house; John let out a gasp, stumbling backward, and fumbled for his phone, until he saw a car driving slowly up the street, past his house. The car had cast his own shadow inside the house. John laughed at his own jumpiness and pushed open the door, stepping inside the house.

  John quickly turned on the lights and shut the door behind him, still amused by his own reaction seconds earlier, but did keep his phone in hand, thumb poised over the call button. Just in case. John listened for any unusual sound, his head turning slowly back and forth, and then moved to the stairs, satisfied that nothing appeared out of the ordinary.

  In the bedroom, John turned on the TV and started to take off his clothes, moving into the bathroom; he started brushing his teeth, staring at himself in the large bathroom mirror. John was about to spit into the sink when the television sound from the bedroom stopped. John leaned out of the bathroom and looked at the television, which was now turned off. John quickly spit into the sink, dropped the toothbrush into its holder and stepped into the bedroom, standing in front of the TV. He reached out and turned the television back on, trying to figure out a logical explanation for the device turning off. He looked over at the bed, saw that remote control had not fallen off and possibly turned off the TV after hitting the floor. Maybe it was some kind of power surge. Seemingly satisfied with that conclusion, John walked to the bed and stretched out, hands behind his head, and started watching a movie on the TV. He quickly fell asleep, the type of sleep you did not realize had happened until you woke up, and when John opened his eyes, the room was dark. The television had turned off again. John got up on one elbow. “Damn...” He really did not want to go through the hassle of getting a new TV. He looked at the clock.