Horror Girls by Jackson Dean Chase

Author:Jackson Dean Chase [Chase, Jackson Dean]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: teen fiction, vampires, coming of age, teen science fiction, suicide, Okefenokee Swamp, satan, scary stories, sci-fi, themed poetry, short story, juvenile science fiction, haunted, young adult science fiction, juvenile sci-fi, magic, Okefenokee, horror poems, Halloween scary stories, teen girl, witches, haunted house, horror anthology, time travel, young adult, witchcraft, paranormal thriller, juvenile fiction, dead, ghosts, Halloween horror stories, depression, Nyarlathotep, curse, ghost story, poetry collection, fallen angels, teen ghost story, vampire, demons, teen horror, supernatural, undead, dark poems, dracula, dark fantasy, black magic, witch, strong female, poems, young adult horror, maniac, dark gods, poem collection, demonic, cosmic horror, Shub-Niggurath, paranormal romance, Halloween horror, paranormal, cursed, juvenile horror, living dead, ghost stories, outsider, Old Ones, Cthulhu Mythos, cannibal, YA, poet, possession, slasher, shorts, halloween, devil, dark poetry, ouija, teen ghost stories, science fiction, teen sci-fi, thrillers, young adult sci-fi, nerds, mutant, reincarnation, demon, Cthulhu, death, gothic, nerd, Lovecraftian, young adult fiction, horror poetry, poetry, ouija board, Azathoth, horror fiction, mutants, horror, Lovecraft, fallen angel, haunting, thriller, spirits, short, possessed, old gods, demonic possession, serial killer, Yog-Sothoth, short stories, Mormon
Publisher: Jackson Dean Chase, Inc.
Published: 2015-10-02T02:26:33+00:00

Chapter 5: THE HORROR

The front door swung open before Deb could even touch the handle. The room inside was black, so black the flashlight beam barely seemed to penetrate the gloom.

“Mom!” Deb cried. “Can you hear me?”

The house groaned in reply.

Deb swung the beam around the front hallway, seeing nothing. A little of her courage melted away, but she still had enough to step inside. “Mom?”

The door slammed shut behind her. Deb whirled and saw nothing, no reason the door should have closed on its own. “Shit,” she muttered. “It's just a door. Stop scaring yourself.”

But she was beginning to feel a sense of panic creeping into her soul. The air thickened and every breath made her feel strange, lightheaded, an intruder in this strange place.

Deb tried to shrug off her growing sense of unease. The hall opened into a broad room with a staircase leading to a second and third floor. Left and right, she could move into a living room and dining area, while straight ahead, past the stairs, the hallway continued to a door. Which way? The house was bigger than she'd thought.

“Hey!” she yelled. “Mom! Come out!”

The door at the end of the hall creaked open, just an inch.

“Mom?” The name died to a whisper. Fear gripped her throat, closing it tight as the door swung wide. She heard shuffling, the sound of slow footsteps in the dark.

“Mom!” Deb ran forward, through the door into a kitchen. The room was empty, ransacked. Cobwebbed cabinets hung open, silverware drawers were pulled out and rusty knives and forks scattered everywhere.

There was blood on the floor.

The kitchen door closed behind her. Deb spun and saw her mother standing there, shivering, her back to her. She reached out an unsteady hand to touch her mother's shoulder.

“Mom? It's me, Deb‌…‌”

As soon as her hand made contact, her mother turned around. Ann Gordon was covered in her own blood, and she held a rusty butcher knife in one slim, shaking hand. Her eyes were glassy, unfocused, her mouth muttering madness. Ann raised the knife, and stabbed the blade into her own hand. It ran straight through. Ann was already missing several fingers, and there were multiple punctures and slashes along her arm.

“I can't get it out,” Ann babbled. “It's in so deep‌…‌” She pulled the knife free, splattering gore across her daughter's face, then stabbed herself again, this time higher up the arm.

“Oh my God, Mom! Stop!” Deb grabbed the arm holding the blade, wrestling with her mother for control. “Let go! What are you doing?”

Ann released the knife and collapsed to the floor, her eyes rolling until only the whites showed. Her palsied limbs thrashed and jerked. A hideous, wet gurgling came from her throat, rising into a growl that became the five most terrifying words Deb had ever heard:

“Get‌… out‌… of‌… the‌… house!”

Deb didn't know what to do, only that she had to run. She raced outside, tearing open the door, squinting in the glare of Rebecca's headlights.

The older realtor

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