D.O.A. Extreme Horror Anthology (31 page)

I can’t
.

Adriana looked at her husband, whose eyes were wide. “Honey, I—” She just shook her head.

He rubbed her back. “What is it, sweetie?”

“I can’t run the nursery. I never told you, but I had nightmares about…about…”

He hugged her. “Aw, baby. The doctor said you were cured.” 

She broke down, crying on his shoulder. When she’d pulled herself together, she raised her head and saw Pastor Wilkes, a middle-aged, graying man with a jutting forehead looking at her. He wore a white polo shirt and khakis instead of a suit—a typical Southern Baptist uniform. 

“Are you all right?” Pastor Wilkes asked in a deep voice.

“I’m sorry, pastor, I’ve been sick lately. I don’t think I can run the nursery today.” 

He put a hand on his chin and held her stare. Then he sighed and let his arm drop. “That’s okay. I understand.” He looked toward a tall, brunette teen staring into the nursery while resting her forearms on the half door. “Cali? Would you like to run the nursery today?”

She smiled and nodded.

“Thank you.” He eyed Adriana again, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Maybe next week. Enjoy the service and get some rest after church, you hear?”

Adriana nodded. “Thanks so much. I will.”

The pastor walked away, probably to another of a hundred duties.

Kerry moved Ariana towards the sanctuary with his hand on her back. “Let’s go worship.”

***

After church, Kerry eyeballed her surreptitiously while driving to McDonald’s, where they always ate after the service. “You sure you’re all right?”

She hit him lightly on the shoulder with her palm. “Oh, quit coddling me. I’m fine.”

“I suppose you’re going to have the Southwest Chicken Salad while I scarf down on a Third Pounder?”

She pulled the sun visor down to shield her eyes from the blinding spring sun. “No. I saw on one of those shows about celebs losing weight that it’s okay to cheat a little, about twenty percent. I want Chicken Nuggets—a ten piece.”

Her husband laughed. “That’s my girl. A ten piece it is. I would’ve felt like crap grubbing down in front of you while you ate roughage.”

She laughed and, suddenly, everything felt right with the world.

Later they played tennis and celebrated her recovery by going out to a fancy dinner at The Supper Club. Adriana ordered a chicken salad with white wine. Then they hurried home and made mad, monkey-love until midnight. They would have continued all night, but they had to go to work in the morning.

Lying on her husband’s sculpted, muscular arm, Adriana shut her eyes and let herself drift off without fear.

***

“You worthless fucking cunt!”

Shots of terror fired off inside her veins as she eyed Pastor Wilkes at the foot of the bed. He wore the same white polo shirt, but no pants or underwear. His huge, erect cock bobbed against his covered belly.

Adriana wanted to scream but couldn’t speak—couldn’t move. She looked at her snoring husband out of the corner of her right eye. Why didn’t he wake up?

The pastor scowled, crossing his arms. “Just like the rest of the leeches,” he said. “Twenty percent of the members do eighty percent of the work.”

She finally found her voice. “I meant to run the nursery, but I was afraid I’d hurt the children.” Though the room felt cool, her face broke out in beads of sweat.

He dropped his arms and clenched his fists. “Well now you’re hurting the church! And now I’m going to hurt you!”

She struggled with all her might to turn and rouse her husband, but still couldn’t move. Pastor Wilkes tore the coverlet and sheets from her side of the bed. She shivered. Her mind squirmed as the strong parson lifted up her legs, spread them, and poised his massive cock at the opening of Adriana’s vagina, just letting the fist-sized head throb against her labia. The pastor smiled and rammed forward, splitting Adriana in half.

The pain sent shocks of torment into her stomach.

God help me, the pastor’s turned evil
!
Why doesn’t my husband wake up
?

She felt herself go mad as his large face shoved into hers, his tongue sliding past her teeth. He reeked of recently-eaten quiche. He bit her lips, drawing blood, and rammed her so hard that her head banged against the headboard. Still her husband snored on. The sensation of being ravaged with broken glass returned as he continued to thrust into her. 

Pastor Wilkes pushed off of her with wide eyes and his mouth formed into an ‘O.’ He pulled out, scooted his crotch up and came all over her face. The man’s salty, fish-scented spunk sprayed into her mouth as she gurgled, cried, and screamed in that order.

Adriana woke, thrashing her feet and punching the head of the man next to her. He—whoever he was—grabbed her arms as he rolled over onto her.

Big mistake.

“Honey, you had one of those dreams again! The nightmare’s over.”

Who was this man, and how dare he mount her after . . . after what? Who was she? Where was she? It didn’t matter. All she felt was the rage.

She lurched forward and bit into his throat, chomping down with all her might. With teeth firmly clamped she shook her head, and pulled his larynx out. Hot, metallic liquid flooded her throat along with fresh meat and hard chunks of cartilage.

The victory tasted good. That’s what the bastard gets. Adriana masticated the flesh in front of his red, wide-eyed face. She spit out the larynx, hitting him on the nose. He sat up and grabbed his leaking throat, which continued to spout dark blood. His face went from red to blue while she laughed.

Her snickering was cut short as he fell on top of her, his cold lips brushing hers.

Fucking men
!

She cackled as her brain went haywire, no hope, no love, only conquest and sickness. She reached down and played with the man’s soft cock while she made out with his dead lips. Adriana could feel herself getting wet. She thrust her hips forward and stuck the tip of his penis into her vagina. Adriana rocked the man’s dying body against her. His bowels released at the moment of death and hot piss filled her vagina while the man’s shit clumped out and rolled down her ass.

Squishy.

The smell didn’t bother her. Nothing did, except for this disease, this insanity, all that was wrong with the world. After she came, she rolled the man off of her and went back to sleep.

***

Adriana woke when her husband shook her shoulder. “Honey, wake up.”

She stirred on the bed, blinking her eyes against the sun shining in the window. She remembered killing him now.

Must’ve had two night terrors. I’ll call Doctor Conover tomorrow and tell him I need to go back
. “What time is it?” she mumbled.

“You’ve got an hour before work.” He got out of bed. “Can I take a shower before you?”

“Um-hmm.” She rolled over. “Wake me when you’re done.”

“Sure thing.”

She lost consciousness.

***

Adriana woke after the sun had set.
Did I sleep all day? Oh shit, I pulled a no-show!
For some reason, she lay on the edge of the bed. She felt slimy between her legs. W
ow, we must’ve really gone at it last night
. Adriana wrinkled her nose at the putrefying smell, recognizing one of her hubby’s almost-lethal methane gas farts. He must be home from work.

Adriana got out of bed. She needed a cigarette and some coffee.

Adriana stumbled into the bathroom, turned on the light and stared her reflection in the mirror.

Her chin was covered in blood. Yellow piss crusted on her legs. Wide-eyed, she turned around to check her ass to see what felt sticky back there. Traces of dark-brown shit caked her butt cheeks. Adriana’s eyes goggled, her frame shook, a nervous breakdown poked at her mind with ghostly, bony fingers.

She looked at her watch. It read five a.m.

She could barely walk back into the bedroom. Creeping, stumbling, she turned on the light . . .

Daddy

Uri Grey

Bear:

Below is the full transcript of a tape removed from a ‘Talking Teddy Bear’ which was found in the woods by one of our reporters, completely by chance
.

After mama and papa died in Bergen my crazy uncle took me and Mr. Bear but he asked us to call him Daddy. Daddy loves me a lot and he even let me do things mama and papa never let me do and he buys me a lot of new toys none of the kids in Bergen have. Daddy doesn’t live in Bergen. He lives in the woods and he is a hunter. Daddy lets me sleep with him and in the night he loves me a lot. Sometimes he loves me too much and it hurts to pee after it but after that he always says sorry. Daddy is the greatest.

I tried to play with a boy in school but he was scared and went away to cry to his teacher. The teacher looked very sick and then took me to the principal’s office and they didn’t let me go home until a policeman came and we all went home together. Daddy was very angry and he screamed a lot and the policeman screamed too and then Daddy took an axe and put it in the head of the policeman and there was a lot of blood. The teacher started running but Daddy shot her with his gun because he’s a hunter. I cried a lot and it really hurt when Daddy loved me tonight. But I was scared to tell him to love me more carefully because I was afraid he will put the axe in my head too. Daddy said we must move to a new cabin and we gave the policeman and the teacher a Viking funeral.

Daddy said I don’t need school because he bought a TV and I can watch it and learn all the things in the world. I learned from the TV that what he calls love is not what everyone calls love. But Daddy says I must love him if I live in his cabin and it is very cold outside and I am not a hunter, so it will be OK.

Daddy says a woman doesn’t need a teddy bear so bye-bye Mr. Bear. It’s cold outside but you won’t mind because you’re warm and made of fur.

Book:

The following text has been transcribed from a badly deteriorated manuscript found in the woods by a local hunter. 

Daddy bought me an empty book and told me to write in it everything that happens to me, every little thing. He likes to read it with one hand down his pants.

I met a young man in the forest today and when I told him about Daddy he said he will take me to his parents’ home tonight and tomorrow morning we will all go to the police station down town and have Daddy arrested. I really like him and I hope he will marry me and I hope Daddy will be taken to Bergen and be hanged from a tree. I hate that son of a bitch!

Daddy came tonight very quietly. I didn’t see or hear him come but when I woke up I stepped in something wet. I opened my eyes and there was light in the room and I saw that everyone except me didn’t have a head and the beds and the floor were painted sticky red. I screamed and tried to run through the door but a hand caught my ankle and dragged me under the bed and I was all smeared in blood and got it in my hair; even tasted some and it was horrible. There were five heads under the bed; one of them was Daddy, “Surprise!”

We had to move again. Daddy said that the woman’s place is in the home and that there is no need for her to walk too much. I promised I won’t leave the house again but he looked me in the eyes and said, “But how do we make sure?” I said I swear by Baby Jesus but he said “Fuck Jesus” and hit me on the face and then he set on my back and I couldn’t breathe because he grew so fat. He held my foot and cut my ankle with his axe and I screamed and then he cut the other and I screamed again and since then I can’t run, only limp.

Blog:

The below web journal has been kindly brought to our attention by a reader who asked to remain anonymous. The last post was made about two years ago.

Daddy bought a computer with internet so that he could watch movies and talk with other hunters. In his movies girls just like me are raped by many men at once and sometimes they are killed afterward. When Daddy brought home a little camera I was very afraid, but in the movies he made he didn’t kill me.

I observed how Daddy typed his password and when he was away I used the internet myself. I opened an anonymous blog (how can I open any other blog? I don’t even know my name, or Daddy’s). I write everything I can’t write in the book. And as for the book, I just reproduce old chapters in the book now in the blog. Daddy won’t know the difference because this is how his life looks like; he fucks, kills, eats and fucks in an endless cycle. I’m the same, only on the receiving end. Every evening I envy the bloody carcasses he drags home and orders me to dismember. At least they don’t have to shamble around like disgusting invalids. At least they only die once. At least they have fur or feathers to cover their nakedness from that horrible man. But no, I undress them, not only their hair, but their skin, their muscles... it’s horrible! I wonder what Daddy will do with me when I die... I don’t care; just let it come as soon as possible.

I celebrated 10,000 page views today. It’s funny really. It seems the whole internet knows about that poor girl, but no one can help her because she doesn’t know where the hell she is, not even what country!

More and more people leave comments like “stop complaining bitch, and do some cutting!” or “kill that fucker already!” I think they are just being mean, but maybe being mean is the right thing to do in a mean situation. I can barely walk, but I think I should give him a fight. Since childhood, since I saw him killing all these people, I convinced myself that he was invincible, that he was Satan himself, but you guys showed me that he’s just an ugly and horny freak. He always takes his guns with him, but I think my carving knife should do nicely. Wish me luck guys, here goes nothing!

Damn! It was like in that Seven Samurai tribute I saw on YouTube, when that guy just knows he’s about to be attacked. Maybe he saw my shadow or something, I don’t know. I was really quiet. He didn’t look very angry but he said the internet gave me bad ideas, so I think this is goodbye guys, thanks for watching and for all the support!