Slasher Crasher by David Nora

Author:David Nora [Nora, David]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Black Rose Writing
Published: 2019-08-28T16:00:00+00:00

39

Betsy, 4:40 p.m.

While Luke’s skull was being cracked open—a spritz of brain shooting out like an Epcot water fountain—Betsy was sitting in his truck, chewing her thumbnail with a giddy smile that circumnavigated her round face. He said he liked me, she thought, looking out the passenger window and imagining herself floating through the evening sky in a magical love bubble. Me! Not Ashley. Or Kathleen—

The bubble stopped midair and its wall, a rainbow-colored sheen, converted to fart green. “Shoot,” she said, looking down at the collection of cigarette butts on the floor. She was so preoccupied with the party that she’d forgotten about Kathleen. What would happen when she returned to school on Monday? Would Kathleen forget the whole thing or would she be waiting at her locker, prepared to finally go to jail for murder?

Betsy laughed. “Are you stupid? Even if you apologized…” She inhaled the demented notion of apologizing to Kathleen. “No, she doesn’t deserve an apology. She’s a horrible human being who deserves to be miserable for the rest of her life.”

Shame seized her growing anger as she imagined her mother and the notorious “eyes swollen with grief” expression she used on the rare occasion when they got into an argument. “I’m s-s-s-sorry, Mom,” Betsy said. “I know I shouldn’t stoop to Kathleen’s level. I should probably forget everything and just…pretend like she doesn’t exist, right?”

Right, Betsy felt her mother answer. However, her soft pinkish lips rebelled, raising the right side in doubt, then whispered in the secret pocket of her mind where her mother couldn’t hear her thoughts, If only Kathleen could do the same.

At that moment, she heard the driver-side door open and turned to…

Confusion grabbed hold of her mouth—Gordon McCann?—and then horror pushed its rotted, skeleton hand down Betsy’s throat and seized her frightened heart. It wasn’t Gordon who had entered the truck, but the crazy beast-man who had chased her to school, his greasy pumpkin-head splashed with…red paint? Wh-wh-what’s going on? she thought in a stiff state of shock. Why’s he here?

The mysterious psycho tried to put the key he was holding into the ignition. It didn’t fit, though. He tried it once more, but again, it didn’t go in. And then, suddenly, he squeezed his large hands into hammers of rage and pounded the steering wheel in a follow-up to his “destroy all cars” rampage from earlier.

The violent jolt from the steering wheel popped Betsy out of her happy bubble of forever love and sent her on a four-hundred-foot vertical drop to hell. Pushing every ounce of air in her lungs, she let out a “Could this be my last” scream, causing the beast-man to spin around and release a cry of “I thought I was alone.” Silence followed, diffusing the tension between these terrified strangers as the large man stared at Betsy, his head slanted to the side like a terrier trying to place a familiar voice, while Betsy stared back with a clear view of his pasty face, thinking, Wow.

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