Nightbreaker

by HeartofSilver

Scary Monsters.....

“I’m sorry, Jacob. There’s been an accident.”

Those words bounced around my skull like a particularly annoying insect as I broke several road laws speeding home. Wrong, he had to be wrong, there was no way….no way. It had to be some sort of joke; his voice was far too smooth, far too controlled to be delivering such terrible news. It couldn’t be real, it couldn’t, it couldn’t……

I promise I’m not crazy.

Alright, maybe a little backstory would help explain why I was speeding down the roads of a sleepy town while simultaneously having a mental break. I mean, such behaviors aren’t exactly common - at least, I don’t think they are - and so you’d have little precedent with which to make an assumption. Anyway, on with the backstory.

It was finals week in college, the period of time every student dreads. It seems like an endless loop of studying, test taking, crying, etc. My stress levels were already through the roof after my Organic Chemistry final, and then, I received a phone call.

“Hello, this is Jacob Forner, who am I speaking to?” I answered in my ‘official’ sounding voice, you know, the one you use whenever an unfamiliar number flashes across your phone screen and you don’t know if it’s a telemarketer, or maybe a bill collector, or perhaps even your proctologist.

Maybe a bit too much information there.

“Greetings, Mr. Forner,” The voice started, silky and smooth like velvet.“ I’m Officer Arouet with the Annetteville Police Department. I regret to inform you…..well, I’m sorry, Jacob. There’s been an accident. We need you to report to your family home as soon as possible.”

Those few sentences shattered my world; it was the verbal equivalent of throwing a baseball at your neighbor's window. My family was everything to me: my father, who worked hard to provide for us and supported me no matter what; my mother, the woman with the kindest heart I’d ever seen who gave me all the love in the world; and my sister who, despite being mischievous and a bit of a pain, was still the best younger sibling anybody could ask for. Were we a perfect family? No, we got into arguments, we fought, we disagreed, and there would always be parts of each other that we didn’t like, but despite that we still loved each other, and if anything happened to them……

My car bounced around as I made the turn onto my pothole littered, dirt street. The old road could barely even be called that; it was so washed out at this point, destroyed by years of erosion and lack of maintenance by a town that cared little for backroads way out in the woods, that it was hardly drivable. ‘A free rollercoaster’, a friend of mine’s father used to say. I called it a future concussion.

Dust flew up in my wake as I sped down the street as fast as I could without risking brain injury. I calmed down by a barely perceptible amount as my home came into view; on the outside, at least, everything looked fine. The decent sized two-story didn’t seem to have any damage to it, everything seemed like it was in place.

I was bursting out of my car before I even finished putting it in park, scrambling to the front door in a mad dash. Grabbing at the gold colored knob, I gave it a few test turns before realizing it was locked.

“Key, key,” I muttered as I fumbled around in my pocket for the keyring. Nothing. Confused, I checked my other pocket, then my back pockets, then my jacket pockets…..still nothing. Now thoroughly perplexed, my mind went into overdrive thinking about where my keys could have gone. In my panic, where would I have……

I smacked my forehead as realization struck me. “I left them in the frigging ignition.”

After resolving that lapse in basic awareness and grabbing my keys, I was back up at the front door, inserting my key into the lock and hearing that satisfying ‘click’ as those zealous tumblers were made happy by the shard of metal in my hand. It took but a second to open the door after that, and I was welcomed into my warm, loving hom-

Well, that’s not exactly what happened. Instead of feeling that sense of relief and safety that always washes over me whenever I step through the threshold of the house I’d lived in all my life, a shudder worked its way through my body. Everything seemed….unnatural in a way. The white siding of the house, dirtied by years of being exposed to the elements, for some reason reminded me of old bones; the red shutters on the windows seemed reminiscent of blood; and the darkened windows of the house were black, soulless voids, not unlike the abyss present in front of me just through the open door. Everything seemed so still. So dead.

I crept cautiously into the house, noting the distinct lack of voices despite it being evening, a time in which everybody was normally home. From room to room I snuck, peering into each one to see any sign of life, but I found none. No food cooking, no t.v. switched on to some news station, no people. A dread had worked its way into my gut, growing and growing like a parasite that had found a prime food source. Something was very off.

My hand extended to open the door to the final room on the first story, the bathroom, before a thought suddenly crossed my mind. Have you ever looked at something, thought nothing off it, moved on, then a few moments later realized you missed something? That’s the feeling I had as I retraced my footsteps to the dining room, looking with a much more scrutinous eye at the far end. For you see, on the other end of the dining room was a window, one which was open. And the screen was cut out. From the outside.

At that point all the details I’d missed before came rushing at me: how I never asked the officer for his badge number; the lack of police officers at what was supposedly an active scene; the fact that somebody was in the house and this was almost certainly a setup!

My phone was out of my pocket before I even finished that thought, dialing 911 and pressing ‘call’.

“911, what’s your emergen-”

The calm voice on the other end of the line was cut short as my phone shattered into a million pieces. It took me a few seconds of shocked staring to realize it had taken two of the fingers on my right hand along with it, leaving a mess of blood, chunks of flesh, bone, and small glass shards. It took another few seconds before I felt the pain.

“AHHHHHH, FUCK!” I screamed at the very top of my lungs. My hand felt as though it was being hammered upon by a very angry man who I had exchanged unsavory words in a bar with. The pain was so great that I almost didn’t notice the movement in the peripherals of my right eye. Almost.

Slowly, and with great effort due to the pain, I swiveled my head to meet the gaze of my attacker. Whatever I was expecting, it was not a well-dressed young man who looked as though he had just stepped out of the catalogue of a particularly fancy menswear store. This man looked absolutely perfect: perfectly clean gray suit, without even a wrinkle; perfectly straight, perfectly white teeth set into a perfect, unblemished face that must have left people swooning in his wake; and perfectly combed back blonde hair that had not a single strand out of place.

The shooter gave me a smile with his perfect teeth before addressing me in the same voice I had heard over the phone earlier. “Something seems to be wrong, I just can’t put my finger on it.”

He burst out into raucous laughter at his joke. I could only stare at him in disbelief; had he really just tried to be funny at a time like this?

His laughter died down after a few moments, and he wiped a few tears from his eyes with his gunhand. He was carrying a Colt Single Action Revolver in that hand, and I could see peeking out over his fingers a few petals of a flower etched onto the wooden grip. I was lucky; an older gun like that might make the next bullet easy to dodge as long as I remained observant.

“You’re probably wondering, ‘who is this guy in my house that just shot me’”, he began, leveling the barrel of the gun at my forehead. “The answer? I’m the guy who likes everything to be just perfect, and you had to ruin it with your little call.”

Right as I saw him pull the trigger I threw myself to the side, completely dodging the bullet as it harmlessly whizzed past my ear.

“AHHHHHH,” was the only sound I could make as I realized the bullet wasn’t so harmless and had, in fact, shattered my ear drum. I instinctively cupped my left hand over the ear as I watched blood drip down onto the floor, mixing itself with its brethren gushing from my much more obvious wound.

A dark chuckle resounded above me as I felt a punch connect with the back of my head, sending me sprawling out on the floor. A hand grabbed my leg as he began to drag me across the hardwood floor,face down, a trail of blood left in our wake.

“So,”he said, mirth filling his voice, “let me guess. You thought you were going to be like one of those action heroes you see in the movies. Dodge the bullet, beat the shit out of the bad guy, save the day.

“Well, guess what kid.” He stopped dragging me and flipped me on to my back. “This isn’t a movie. And, as you can see, there’s no day left to save.”

He gestured with his gun to the right of me and, as I slowly turned my head to see what he was talking about, I took a sharp intake of breath. Within arm’s reach of me were the bodies of my family, sprawled out onto the floor, covered in blood and bullet holes, and with deep slash marks across their throats. Tears formed in my eyes at seeing my family like this, and I was choking back the sobs bubbling up my throat. I couldn’t let him see me like this, I couldn’t let him feel like he won.

It was barely a second later he was right over me, gleaming steel knife at my throat that had already been stained with the blood of my family. I could only glare at him with hatred and contempt at this point; I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing my fear.

A sick smile formed across his face as he stared reverently at the knife for a moment. “You know, you might think I prefer the gun as a weapon, but I love the knife. So much more brutal, so much more personal.” He leaned over me just a bit more, the predatory smile on his growing. “So, any last words?”

“You-” I had barely finished the first word before the knife was drawn across my throat, cutting into the windpipe and several blood vessels in my neck. I could feel the blood pouring into my lungs, ironically drowning me in the very fluid that gave me life. My assailant stood back up to his full height while giving me a smug smirk.

“Like I said, not a movie. You don’t get some awesome last words to say to the big villain.” He began to walk away, giving me an almost friendly wave as he did so. “Goodbye, kid. It was fun.”

As I laid on that floor slowly dying I did the only thing I could think of. I inched closer to my family, reaching out my arm so that it was on top of the pile our killer had dumped their bodies in. For a moment, I thought I had imagined the brief flash of life in my little sister’s eyes, but as I felt her smaller hand curl around my own I realized she too was still alive, though not for long.

For a second, our eyes met. That moment felt like an eternity, each of us displaying the endless familial love we shared with each other, trying to give the other comfort in our last moments. And then, I watched as that brief flicker of life started to fade away, and I felt my own begin to fade as well. With my remaining strength I gave a small squeeze to her hand, and I felt a weak one return.

I settled my eyes on her, on them, so that I could see them all

One…..

Last…..

Time…….

Author's Note:

It's nice to be back to writing. Covid-19 got me into a bit of a slump, and it became hard to find the motivation to work on my other stories. I realized after a while that perhaps the best way to motivate myself to work on my other stories was to start a new one. It sounds rather counterintuitive, but I've found myself with new inspiration for my other stories. It's like popping the cork on a bottle of champagne: the ideas start spilling out after the initial gush, and these ideas will soon be put into action.

Anyway, feel free to comment down below. I really do like hearing from you guys. I don't believe any of us can truly grow without proper discourse.

Comments

[Top_Smug]

Kind of a lukewarm opening but up give it a few chapters.

[Drr]

?

[HeartofSilver]

10347716
What is the cause of your confusion, my friend

[Drr]

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