Calling all monsters by Unknown Author

Author:Unknown Author
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-03-15T16:00:00+00:00

14

Every horror story had either a basement, a locked door, or a secret at its heart. Whatever it was Joanne had blundered into this week possessed all three. Staggering into Peterborough Lane, both shoulders aching from the groceries, she pictured the door in the hall standing open and the secret that had conjured itself up in the dark, while no one was looking, emerging. And the locked door? That was her own front door, facing the cemetery. Just now, she couldn’t think of a more appropriate place to be.

Even when she’d knocked three times, no one answered. Where on earth were her keys? She knocked again and moved around to the kitchen window and tapped there, but could see nothing except empty counters. There were noises within, that was something, but what kind of noises? She might have been mistaken, but what she heard sounded uncommonly like a struggle taking place. God, if she could only find the quickest way in! She was turning from the window when a scream and a roar coincided indoors.

Whatever else happens, whoever else suffers, she thought, don’t let it be Jason and Sarah! She must be to blame for all this, and if she only knew how, she might be able to help. Where were the cops when she really needed them? It was as if she’d wandered by chance into some idiot’s made-up story; as if someone had plucked her from life, sketched scenes about her, surrounded her with terrors from dreams. It was all too much, expecting her to cope alone. She picked up a large smooth stone from the lawn and was about to put it through the kitchen window when she heard the front-door key being turned.

Sarah stood holding the door open. Her face dropped as soon as she saw Joanne. From the inside came another tortured scream, followed by a joyful whoop that Joanne knew instantly as Jason’s. It seemed to take her an age, standing there foolishly, stone held at shoulder level, before she could think.

"Sarah, what the hell is going on here?”

Before Sarah could reply, Joanne dropped the weapon, pushing through the doorway and into the hall. Both bags of groceries lay forgotten on the step.

"You said not to open the door for anyone,” Sarah was saying, following.

"For anyone else, I meant. What’s this?”

She stood at the living room door in horror. It was almost as bad as she feared. When she’d retired last night, she had forgotten to remove Dawn of the Dead from the VCR, and here was Jason seated in front of the final few minutes, clapping his hands as blood and brains exploded in glorious color. “Look,” he was screaming deliriously. “Look, look, look!”

In a rush of activity Joanne crossed the room, turned off the tape, planted herself defiantly in front of the screen, obscuring his view of white noise. To Sarah she said, “Why are you letting him watch that?”

Sarah shrugged. “He tore up The Snowman. He broke open the box and ate the tape.

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