D.O.A. Extreme Horror Anthology (28 page)

Mike had always been scared of Old Man McCook, since he was a kid. There were rumors all over the neighborhood of how he was some kind of witch doctor or something. Nobody ever got near the house.

“Alright y’all,” Chauncey said. “This is what’s gonna happen.” He grabbed Julius by his collar, and pulled him in close. “You’re gonna go knock on his door, and me and Mikey are gonna come in through the back.” He slapped Mike’s shoulder.

“Why do I gotta go to the front?” Julius said, eyeing Mike up and down. “This motherfucker should do it.”

Chauncey got face to face with him, their chests bumping.

“Cuz I just told you to, nigga.”

Julius looked back over at Mike, and nodded his head.

“So once you got him at the door, keep his ass there, as long as you can,” Chauncey said. “We’re gonna be creeping up behind him, don’t let him turn around.”

Julius nodded as Chauncey spoke. He scowled at Mike.

Mike hated the idea of him and Chauncey alone.

“Why’d we come to Old Man McCook’s for? Can’t we just hit one of them houses down the way?”

Chauncey glared at Mike, his gold tooth gleaming in the moonlight.

“Cuz Old Man McCook is loaded, and I’m trying to get paid. I know you don’t believe the shit you been hearing.”

“For real man, they’re just some old wives tales, he ain’t nothing but an old man,” Julius said.

“Look man, we can split this shit two ways, we don’t need your punk ass.”  Chauncey slipped on his ski mask.

Mike thought about this opportunity to escape, to get out of this mess before it started. His stomach growled, and he slipped on his mask.

“Alright man, get ready to knock on his door. Give us about a minute to get behind the house.” Chauncey shoved Julius toward the front porch.

Julius edged forward, eyeing the door like a gateway to Hell. He looked back at Chauncey with doubt etched on his face.

“Get the fuck up there.”

Mike watched as Julius walked out of sight toward the front of the house. Chauncey grabbed his shoulder.

“Come on.”

A loud knocking from the front cued them. Chauncey pulled a crowbar from his backpack. Mike walked ahead of him and tried the knob. The door creaked open as the knob turned. They looked at each other and shrugged. Chauncey placed the crowbar back in his pack.

Another loud bang rang out, followed by talking. Mike recognized Julius’ voice, but heard no response. Mike stared into the dark home, trying to listen. Chauncey grabbed his arm.

“Quit fucking around.” He gestured Mike to follow him.

Mike used his shirt sleeve to cover his mouth and nose as the thick smell of sweat and shit hit him. His stomach heaved. He heard the buzzing of countless flies in the distance. The sound of Julius’ voice grew clearer as he and Chauncey walked deeper into the darkness of the house.

Mike saw the front door, moonlight creeping in from the opening. The old man was facing Julius.

“Your friends need not be shy. My home is open to you all.” The old man spun on his heels. He smiled at them.

Mike jumped and ran in the other direction. Chauncey grabbed hold of him and refused to let go.

“We’re finishing what we started, nigga.” He pointed his gun at the old man’s face. “What’s up ol’ timer?”

Julius pushed his way into the door, his gun pressed into McCook’s back. He stared at the old man, shaking his head.

Chauncey glared at Mike as he stood and watched. Mike drew his pistol, and pointed it at the old man.

“Please children, come sit with me. No need for those toys.” Old Man McCook walked by them toward his living room.

“This motherfucker,” Chauncey said. Mike could tell he was impressed at the audacity of the old man.

“Let’s just get the hell outta here,” whispered Julius. “Something ain’t right.”

Mike felt it too. A bad energy filled the air, every hair on his body stood on end. He wanted to end the charade, but Chauncey refused.

“Did I just hear you say that shit?”

“He said some things...”

“I don’t give a fuck if he sang you a song, we’re doing this shit!” Chauncey yelled.

Mike saw a single tear run down Julius’s cheek as he nodded and steadied his gun.

“You boys have a seat here, and we can talk about this.” The old man beamed at them from his cracked leather chair.

“You damn straight we can talk, and you can start by telling us where the cash is at.”

“You don’t need money,” McCook said. “I have much better things to give you boys than money.”

Mike stepped forward, “Like what?”

“Anything and everything.”

“Shut your ass up!” Chauncey stepped right up to Old Man McCook and pressed the barrel to his forehead. “You need to start talking before it gets messy.”

The old man’s eyes stayed locked on Mike. His bulbous stomach bounced as he started to giggle.

“I ain’t scared to plug you right now.” Chauncey pushed the pistol harder against the old man’s skin.

“Just listen to him, man,” Mike said.

The old man continued laughing, his chuckling turning into a loud cackle. Mike noticed a slight movement from inside his mouth. He squinted as he tried to focus on what it was.

“Shut the fuck up!” Chauncey lifted the gun from the man’s forehead and swung it back down. The metal smashed into the man’s gaping mouth.

A loud buzzing erupted. A swarm of flies burst into the air, escaping the old man’s cackling mouth. Mike felt the house shake as the laughter continued.

“What the fuck?” Julius screamed, swatting at the zig-zagging flies.

“Fuck this shit!” Chauncey yelled. He aimed his gun and fired. The laughter stopped abruptly as the bang of the gunshot echoed through the home. The old man sat motionless in his chair, blood dripping from the wound in his head.

“What did you do, man?” Mike peeled the mask from his sweaty head, watching as another fly crawled from between the dead man’s lips.

“Can we get the fuck outta here now?” Julius continued swatting at the swarm of flies.

“The hell with that, we’re searching the house first.” Chauncey pulled his mask off and stared at his victim with a crooked smile.

“You just shot him, we gotta go!” Julius yelled. “Someone probably heard that shit.”

“Man, you know nobody’s gonna do nothing. The cops don’t even come around here.” Chauncey proceeded to search the man’s pockets.

“This ain’t right, y’all,” Mike said. “Those flies were coming from his mouth.”

“Why the fuck does it matter now? The motherfucker is dead.”

“Y’all do what you gotta do, I’m outta here,” Julius said, running to the front door. “What the fuck?!”

He shook the knob, kicking at the door. It wouldn’t budge. He checked all around the frame, looking for some kind of lock, but found nothing. He smashed a window with the butt of his pistol, but found metal bars blocking his way. Julius looked over at the other boys, and ran toward the back. Mike heard him struggling and the string of cuss words that followed.

“We’re stuck man. I wanna get the fuck out!”

“Quit your bitch ass whining and help us check the place. Once we get what we need, I’ll get us out. Trust me.”

“Something’s wrong here,” Mike said. “We shouldn’t be here.”

Chauncey backed away from McCook’s body, pulling a wad of money from the old man’s pocket.

“Y’all still wanna go?” He flashed the money. “We still got a whole house to look through.”

Julius walked over to Mike as they both watched Chauncey peeling bills from the bundle of cash. Mike could pay his rent three times with that kind of money. Chauncey handed him his share.

“What happened, happened. Let’s get this shit done so we can go, cool?”

Mike looked at the old man, motionless, blood dripping from his head. He pocketed the cash and nodded his head. Julius hesitated, but did the same.

“That’s what I’m talking about, now come on.”

They came to a stairwell, a dark room just beyond it. Mike strained his eyes to see, but it was of no use. Chauncey pulled a small flashlight from his backpack, and aimed it toward the darkness. Multiple chests and cabinets glimmered in the light.

“Alright, I’m gonna hit this room here. Y’all go upstairs and see what you can grab.”

Mike and Julius looked at each other, both waiting for the other to lead the way.

“Get the fuck up there, God damn it.”

“So what’d he say to you at the door?” Mike asked. His flashlight led the way as he and Julius ascended the stairs. Old crumpled photos decorated the walls of the stairwell. All photos of children.

“He said he knew why we came here,” Julius said, staying one step behind Mike. “Said he knew y’all were at the back, even used your names.”

“That’s fucked up man, we gotta do this quick.”

“What the hell is that smell?”

Mike smelled it, too. The same smell he noticed when they first entered the home. It was much stronger as they reached the top of the stairs. Flies buzzed all around them.

“Fuck this man, let’s just go,” Julius said. He grabbed Mike and started back down the stairs.

“Nah man, we’re here, let’s just get it over with.” Mike pulled Julius into the hallway ahead of him.

Mike shot the light down the hallway. Nothing but doors on either side.

“I’ll take this side,” Mike said, walking to his left toward the first door.

“The hell with that, I’m right behind you.”

“You wanna get the hell outta this place? Then let’s get it done.” Mike shoved Julius toward the other end of the hallway.

Julius stared at Mike, pleading with his eyes. It looked like he wanted to say something, but he just turned on his heels and headed toward his side of the hall.

Mike slowly nudged open the door and a loud creaking sound screamed from the hinges. He spat on the floor as the smell hit him. He covered his mouth and nose as he stepped into the room. The walls were alive with the movement of flies, their black bodies scurrying about. Mike spun in circles, in awe at the amount of them.

The only light source came from a television in the middle of the room, a Bugs Bunny cartoon flashing on the screen. A single wooden chair sat in front of it, and a bucket sat next to that.

“This is
my
room.”

Mike shot his light toward the voice, quickly grabbing for his gun.

“My eyes!”

The flashlight shone on a filthy, scrawny child who screamed as the light hit his face. He crashed to the ground and kicked his legs, covering his face.

“Turn it off, I’ll be good, just turn it off!”

Mike didn’t know how to react.

It’s just a kid
, he thought to himself.
But what is he doing in this terrible room
?

Mike put his gun away and clicked the flashlight off.

“Shhh, I’m hunting wabbits,” the television announced.

The boy jumped up and ran to the chair. He stared at the glowing screen.

“Haha, that’s my favorite part!” He jumped up and down in his chair, pointing at the screen and laughing hysterically. He looked up at Mike, and smiled. “You wanna play with me?”

“Nah, just looking for a different room,” Mike said. He backed away from the malnourished boy.

“Come on, you can stay,” said the boy as he jammed his bony arm into the plastic bucket beside him. “I’ll even share my grub with you.”

Mike gagged as the boy displayed his food—dark fluid running between his fingers to drip onto the floor. A swarm of flies flew from the bucket, some landing on the stringy pink guts in his hand. The boy smiled up at him, and jammed the grub into his mouth.

“It’s good,” he said, small bits of chewed up meat falling from his lips.

Mike turned and flung himself from the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Old Man McCook was supposed to be crazy, but this was just too much. Mike knew that after they were finished, he would have to call somebody to save that poor kid. He looked around the hallway, searching for Julius.

“Jules,” Mike whispered. He got no response and walked to the next door. Julius must have found something good, probably stuffing his bag right now.

Mike hesitated as his hand wrapped around the next doorknob. This time, he had his pistol ready. He crept into the room, the hairs on the back of his neck standing straight up. A soft soothing music played as he walked through the door.

Dolls littered the floor, some of them life sized and very realistic. He walked past a small bed with frilly pillows and lacy sheets thrown about. A fancy dresser with a large mirror sat near the other side of the bed.

Mike grabbed a hairbrush with a golden handle, some pearl necklaces, and an ivory music box from the dresser. He tossed them all into his bag, the soft music still playing from within. He started opening drawers, grabbing anything that looked valuable, doing his best to be quick.

Mike shrieked as he looked into the mirror to find a life size doll standing behind him. The head tilted to the side, watching Mike do his business. He spun around, facing the china faced doll in a pink Cinderella-type dress. It was a child, the doll mask strapped to her head. She stared at him, not moving, not saying anything.

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” Mike said. “I just need to borrow these things, cool?”

The doll nodded, walking toward Mike. She had her arms stretched out as she approached him. She grabbed and hugged him, squeezing his leg. Mike just stood there and let her embrace him, not sure of what to do.

“I gotta go now, but I promise I’ll be back, okay?” Mike did his best to sound friendly. “I just need to borrow these things, but I’ll bring them back.”

She nodded and ran to her bed, diving onto the mattress. She kicked her legs and ruffled up the sheets, all the while staring at Mike.

He backed into the door, reaching behind him to grab the knob, keeping his eyes on the strange girl. She waved at him, and then continued her flailing.

He stumbled out into the hallway, loosing his footing as he escaped the eerie room. Even though they were just kids, he was ready to get out of there.

Old Man McCook was one crazy son of a bitch
.

As he got ready to approach the next door, he noticed that a door on Julius’s side stood slightly open. Mike wanted to see his progress and compare their stash.