Megaton Stories, Enter at Own Risk...

[MegatonBoom]

Ok, so, our English class did not get to write any horror stories for Halloween (I hate her soooo much, says I can't even write a real sentence.) But all the other English II classes did. So, I asked a friend if he'd give his teacher my story if I wrote one. He said sure. So, here it is, one of my longer horror stories.





The Deal

The night was black and humid, the only light coming from the street lamps towering over the road. Thick rain drops slapped the windshield, sounding off their soothing taps. The slick and soaking streets were bare of all life; except for Travis Sweeney and his fire engine red Oldsmobile.
The slender man pushed his fogged up, horn rimmed glasses back up his nose, keeping his eyes locked onto the road. Normally, Travis was a calm man, and would never be speeding down the slippery road like he was, but tonight was different. He had left his cramp office early without warning, for he had gotten a call from his wife that she was leaving him for another man. Donna claims that he’s not there for her, that he’s so built up on his crappy job that it seems it’s all he wants for his life. Travis took all of the trouble she gave him before but this was the final straw. She told him that she was packing the bags and she would be leaving in an hour. It only takes Travis half an hour to get home.
He stared down the road like an enemy keeping him further from his ultimate goal. Travis was completely oblivious to his surroundings, until beside him he saw a flash of red that illuminated the car. His eyes widened as they twitched from the figure to the road. Sitting beside him, smoking a thick cigar and twitching its tail, was what looked like to be the devil himself in a three piece suit.
“What’s got you shaking? What’s got you nervous, Mr. Sweeney?” The devil pushed his black glasses to the top of his head, hooking them on top of his cracked horns. He turned towards Travis and smiled his black toothed grin, blowing smoke rings into his face. “Something’s wrong with you Sweeney. Go ahead and tell me, I’m your buddy.”
Travis swallowed hard as a cold sweat began to graze his skin. His mind fluttered at what was going on, but hallucination or not it still scared him to the bone. The devil chuckled and sucked in his cigar, creating a bright trail of cinder to reveal his features. The creature’s nose was pointed at the end of the curved bridge, and his cheeks were sucked in like he was suffering from starvation. His dark smile consisted of jagged teeth and a black, cracked tongue which was stuck out whenever he spoke. The goatee on his chin was greasy and matted; Travis could have sworn he saw a maggot or two crawling inside. Even with all of these gruesome features, the most frightening thing about the demon were his eyes: ghost white with a tiny black pupil in the center and veins appearing to bulge out from them. Travis didn’t dare look directly into the monster’s face, half thinking that he’d turn to stone.
“M-my wife, or ex-wife, is leaving me for someone else.” Mr. Sweeney’s voice was shaky and uncertain. He realized his mistake when the devil started to chuckle.
“I’m so sorry Mr. Sweeney, but hey, what are you going to do, huh?” the demon wrapped his charred tongue around the blunt cigar, curling it into his mouth he began to chew and eventually swallow, “I mean, relationships never last. It’s just a fact of life, Travis. Though, when it does happen, it’s pretty heart breaking, don’t you think?” Satan quirked a brow and leaned closer to Travis, causing the terrified man to almost lose control of the vehicle.
“But heart broken isn’t what you’re feeling right now is it, Mr. Sweeney?” the monster said with a grin and wet cigar soot spitting from his lips. “Um, well,” Travis closed his eyes and took a deep breath, he felt himself becoming more comfortable for some reason, “I’m mostly mad at the moment.”
“And why is that?”
“Because of everything I did for her: the house, the jewelry, everything, she just decides that I haven’t been good to her. I’ve spent my life making sure she was happy, that she had everything she wanted, and this is how she repays me? It’s bull and she knows it.”

Satan leaned the seat all the way back while he propped his feet up on the dash board of the car, watching the rain come down almost twice as hard. The large buildings of the downtown area began to shrink and turn into apartments and shops. They would be at the house in less than twelve minutes.
“What are you going to do when you get there?”
Travis bit his lip and pushed his glasses back up, “I-I hadn’t thought about it much, probably just argue.” Satan laughed loudly and kicked the dash board, Travis would see small flames spurting from the manic creatures mouth. “Argue? ARGUE? Come on Travis, honestly? You have all this hatred bottled up inside and all you’re going to do is argue? Look, you can’t just bottle anger inside, trust me, I should know.” He laughed again, this time hacking up black tar onto the windshield, “Tell you what, since I like you, I’m going to help you out. I can tell what you really want to do, but you’re just too afraid to. So, you do your job, get all that rage out, and I’ll take care of the rest.” He smiled at Travis with a frightening grin, but Mr. Sweeney felt, somehow, happy. For a smile arched around his face also.
“See? That’s the spirit Sweeney old boy. I’ll just be taking my leave now.” The devil reached for the door handle and was about to open it before he turned around and snapped his fingers. “Oh damn, I almost forgot.” He reached out his hand, “Got to shake on it, company policy.”
Without thinking before acting, Travis reached out and shook Satan’s hand, only to reel back in pain with the sight of blood dripping down his palm. “Adios, bub.” The devil laughed as he opened the car door and jumped out, leaving Travis to watch as his body hit the road and the sounds of bones shattering filled his ears. Though, Travis did not slow down but merely looked in the rearview mirror, to see nothing. He would remain silent until he walked through the door of his two story house five minutes later.
Donna’s car was still in the driveway with at least five bags stuffed in the back on the Corvette. Travis shut off the engine and glided into the pathway, getting out and leaving the door open. He would grab his key and open the front door slowly and enter the living room with this strange confidence that was overpowering him.
The living room would seem to be something out of a mansion. It was complete with a roaring fireplace, trophies atop the mantle, beautiful foreign rugs, and wall to wall glazed mahogany wood. Travis would soon appear in the kitchen and grab the largest knife he could find. Looking at his eyes in the blade made him smile. He would slowly walk back into the living room to see Donna at the top of the stairs with a ghost pale face.

She quickly dropped the suitcases in her hands and ran towards the bedrooms with Travis climbing over the clothes and stepping onto a few pictures that she had packed. “Come here darling, I just want to talk.” Donna slammed the bedroom door in his face, leaving blood oozing from his broken nose. He grabbed for the handle and jiggled it wildly, growling at his frustration when he realized it was locked. The crazed man began stabbing at the door in blind rage until he heard a voice in his head, “Try the door again.” Travis would find the door unlocked and slowly opening. He busted in to see Donna struggling to climb out of the window.
He leaped at his dangling legs, sliding the knife through her calve while she screamed and cried. “How could you do this to me? Why would you? WHY?” With all his might, Travis pulled her from the window, her head getting a huge gash in the process, and tossed her onto the bed before coming down with the knife. Her screams became gurgles as blood filled her throat, and thirty-four stabs and a gruesome mess later, she was dead.

Travis was beat red with sweat and blood covering his body and clothes. He wiped the saliva from his mouth while he breathed the fire from his lungs. The knife hit the bed and he stood watching his back, waiting for the stranger to come and finish the job. “Where are you? Where the hell are you? I’m done! Take her away!” Mr. Sweeney spun around to the window, franticly looking outside for a car, or a man in a suit walking down the street. His gritted teeth jutted open into a bloody curdling howl from a sharp pain in his back and no feeling at all in his legs. Travis hit the floor with a thud, and looked upward to see Donna.
“What is this? WHAT IS THIS!” Travis began to tear up and cry, “You’re dead! You are damn DEAD!”
Donna gritted her teeth and shoved Travis to the ground, pulling out the knife she stabbed it into his eye, killing him instantly. Then all was black.
“Hmm, yeah, I’m sorry about that.”
Out of the blackness from nowhere walked Satan in his suit, the orange glow from the cigar the only light.
“You said, I’d be able to kill her!”
“Well you did, right?”
“No! No! She got back up! She killed me!”
Satan laughed and walked circles around Travis, blowing burning smoke into his face. “Should have been more specific with you’re deal. Should have said she wasn’t allowed to make one.” He grinned and flicked the cigar into Travis’s face, which it then burst into flames, searing his skin.
“What? You helped her? Why?” Travis was crying and holding his scarred face, not knowing what was to come.
“Nothing personal my friend, just business; there was no way I was going to pass up a two for one deal, I mean come on.”
Travis stared up at Satan like a lost child, frightened and alone.
“Don’t worry, you’ll be taken well care of.”
The eternal darkness was lit up by boiling fire and the scent of brimstone. Travis, with his paralyzed legs and blinded eyes, could only hear the screams of torment from the souls of damnation and feel the fire charring his flesh. “Oh no, oh God no, please! Please God!”
The devil raised his hand to his pointed ear and looked upward, shaking his head and sucking on his cigar, “No God here.”


End

[MegatonBoom]

One Last Request

I’d like to tell you a story. It’s a fantastic story really, but I’m almost certain you’ve heard it before. About Amelia Lockwood and her encounter with- oh, you haven’t heard it? Well now that is quite a shocker then. Perhaps I shall tell you anyway. Please take a seat by the fire, warm yourself and relax. I might as well start from the beginning then, right? Of course, well you see-

Our story begins in the quiet town of Harper’s Glenn. A small farming village surrounded by a sea of crops and the echoes of livestock. However at this time of year most of the scenery involved bright colors of oranges and reds and yellows as the leaves fell for the late months. The once lush and green vegetation was now tanned and ready for harvest under the close eye of the many scarecrows dotting the fields. Yes, it was a grand little town, never had there been happier faces all along the country side, especially now at the coming of All Hallow’s Eve.

Past the tiny cottages and cheering children. Through the wispy forest and beyond the old covered bridge was a large golden gate. And beyond this large golden gate was Lockwood manor, home to the lord that watched over even the scarecrows of Harper’s Glenn. Lord Lockwood was perhaps one of the most unmistakable fellows you could ever see. Near Christmas time he’d dress up as Santa Claus and stroll around the village with the children. Oh he was a jolly, jolly man indeed. Then again who wouldn’t be with a mansion such as his. Pearly white pillars held up the immense structure all around, windows of all shapes and sizes dotting all three stories. But the one thing Lord Lockwood was most proud of was his daughter, Amelia. As beautiful as she was generous, Amelia was the type of girl that would help anyone in need without a single thought against it. She constantly was enamored by the men of Harper’s Glenn. So immaculate she was! Her skin was so soft and pale like a babies bottom, and her hair glimmering with an obsidian sheen that she could make any man stop and stare in awe. She loved to dance as well. A beautiful dancer with the voice of a goddess. Amelia adored this kind of weather that came with the fall. And it wasn’t just the multitude of color that flew through the breeze. It was also the annual masque ball that her father had held every year for the past several.

Halloween night and almost the entire village was as quiet as a grave yard in the pale moon light. All except Lockwood manor, which shinned one-hundred times brighter than any other normal night. Laughter and music could be heard for almost miles around as if to announce any passers by to come and join the festivities. Inside the manor men, women, and children of all shapes and sizes danced and sang and played and had fun of all kinds. Children bobbed for apples and played games while the dance floor was packed with masked men and women dancing to the rhythm of violins and piano. Oh it was a sight that you could only have seen for yourself, honestly. But the most beautiful thing to see that night was Amelia strolling down the long pearl steps down to the ballroom floor. Her huge, frilled black lace dress sliding gracefully behind her while her snowy skin shone in the light. Her face was covered by a black mask indented with majestic symbols and shapes, a lace veil falling over her lips. As soon as her heeled foot stepped down onto the shined floor, she began to dance. Swaying and spinning with the music as it washed around her she smiled so wide it would crack her face. Her dress spun with her as well as her silky ebon hair dancing with her. She had never felt this kind of excitement at the ball before, surely it was magic at work. Almost as quick as she began she stopped and would look atop the steps to see a well dressed man dressed in black. She’d smile and raise her hand to him.

Stepping down silently the man would gaze down at her soft hand through a bleach white mask that would cover all but his chin. His long coat tails of his black coat, embroiled in gold and white, dragged across the floor. Black leather gloves and boots shimmered in the ballroom light. He’d reach for her palm and tip his wide top hat to the side before leaning down and kissing it softly. Amelia felt his lips cold against her skin but she didn’t mind. She simply smiled and they began to dance once again, this time together. They danced and danced and danced even when no one else was. They danced when guests were eating. They danced when everyone else were playing games and telling jokes. They danced when the music stopped playing and everyone else had left. The one moment they stopped dancing was when Amelia jumped at the sound of the large grandfather clock, tolling the first bell for the midnight hour. She felt her heart sink just a little more each time she heard the strikes. One. She bite her lip. Two. Her eyes grew wide. Three. Her body began to shake. Thing had been going so well this night. She didn’t wish for anything to end. Six. Her palms started to sweat. Seven. Her heart thumped from her chest. Eight. Her lip began to bleed. They had been dancing for so long. This couldn’t be the end of it. It was to soon. She didn’t want to go yet. Eleven. She dropped to her knees. Twelve. She cried and sobbed. The once bright ball room had now become a cold, quiet cemetery. The moon was still lit to it’s fullest but it did not make the scene seem any less grim. The man behind her would lay his palm on her shoulder, colder than before. She’d turn to see the well dressed phantom who was now completely hidden inside of a large black cloak, scythe in hand with his breath visible in the moon light. For you see, it was in fact her time. At this moment, she had been kneeling on her own grave, only two weeks ago. The reaper had felt pity on her, such a generous soul to depart so young. So, he had made her a proposition. One last request. She had wished to dance at the Halloween ball for one last time. It was granted. After hours of crying until no more tears could be cried, Amelia stood up and looked at the reaper. She nodded and as did he. Slowly they began to disappear into the black fog.

A very depressing story, no? Well, I suppose that is all in the opinion of who hears it. I for one believe that Amelia is in a much happier place at the moment. Somewhere she is still dancing with the reaper to this very day.