13 Tales To Give You Night Terrors Read online

13 TALES TO GIVE YOU NIGHT TERRORS

  A Night Terrors Novel

  Edited by Troy H. Gardner & Joshua Winning

  "Crashing Mirrors" and "The Housesitter" Copyright ? 2015 by Elliot Arthur Cross.

  "Black Holes" Copyright ? 2015 by Erin Callahan.

  "Back Home" and "Search History" Copyright ? 2015 by Jonathan Hatfull.

  "It's Different When You Have Your Own" Copyright ? 2015 by Rosie Fletcher.

  "Ad Infinitum", "One and Done" and "Store Macabre" Copyright ? 2015 by Scott Clark.

  "Clown" Copyright ? 2015 by Tom Rimer.

  "Blackened Fireworks" and "Waiting for the Wolf" Copyright ? 2015 by Troy H. Gardner.

  "Gone for Good" Copyright ? 2015 by Vinny Negron.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or in any means-by electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise-without prior written permission.

  Book layout by Troy H. Gardner.

  Cover design by Alastair Parr.

  Skeleton with veil and white roses ? Danilo Sanino?|?Dreamstime.com.

  First eBook edition October 2015

  Official site

  nightterrorsbooks.com

  Twitter

  twitter.com/NightTerrorsYA

  CONTENTS

  Introduction

  1. Crashing Mirrors

  2. Ad Infinitum

  3. Black Holes

  4. Clown

  5. Back Home

  6. Waiting For The Wolf

  7. Store Macabre

  8. Search History

  9. Gone For Good

  10. One And Done

  11. Blackened Fireworks

  12. It's Different When You Have Your Own

  13. The Housesitter

  Author and Editor Bios

  Camp Carnage Sample

  INTRODUCTION

  GOOD evening, new friend.

  As a collector of the strange, the grisly and the bizarre, I'd like to welcome you to the inaugural volume of 13 Tales to Give You Night Terrors. Contained in this book are dark stories from around the globe-America, England, Scotland-that have delighted and terrified me.

  Just as a child draws with a broken crayon or a werewolf howls at the moon, collecting is in my blood. I'm crippled by the need to capture and hold on to something. To seek out like items, categorize and arrange them. I do not seek out rare coins or mutated butterflies. Rather, I collect the kinds of stories that would give even the hardiest of souls night terrors.

  What are night terrors? For some, they are the furry spider sneaking into your room at midnight to scurry along your forearm. For others, it's the enveloping darkness of branches snapping in your backyard when you let your dog out for a piss. Night terrors can be old Steve Reeves movies.

  The short stories in this volume contain a myriad of horrors real and imagined:

  An amnesiac girl searching for the horror she's always run from.

  A store manager determined to deliver a unique parcel.

  A boy with a giant clown problem.

  And many more.

  Dear reader, I bid you, dim the lights, pull the blanket up to your chin, keep the cat or dog close and the flashlight even closer. Turn the electronic page and delve deep into my collection of terror tales.

  Sleep well,

  Amicus Sundown

  1. CRASHING MIRRORS

  Elliot Arthur Cross, United States

  CAMERON'S chocolate brown eyes crossed. It was past eleven at night and he'd been staring at his history textbook for nearly an hour while he listened to This Is My Roommate. He slammed the book shut, pulled out his earbuds, and trotted downstairs for a snack before bed.

  His mom sat in the dark living room watching a late-night talk show with an awkward comedian commanding the stage.

  "Cam, honey?"

  He stopped in his tracks. "Uh, what's up?"

  "I'm getting tired waiting for your brother to get home. Can you text him and tell him he's way past curfew?"

  Cam scratched his nose. "What do you mean? Mac's studying in his room. Math test tomorrow."

  "I didn't see him come in."

  "He came in, like, a half hour ago."

  "Huh. Thanks. I'll check on him before I go to bed."

  "Okay." Cam hurried into the kitchen, grabbed a handful of trail mix, and headed back. "Night, Mom."

  "Good night, honey."

  Cam went upstairs, loudly slammed his door shut, and then snuck into his brother's room. He turned the light on, shucked out of his T-shirt and into one of Mac's shirts, tousled his hair, and found Mac's math book on the desk. He brought it over to the bed, opened it to some random page, and started doodling in the margins.

  He'll owe me for this one. Unless he knocks up Shelley tonight.

  A few minutes later someone knocked on the door.

  "It's open," Cam said. His mom entered and gave him a quick once-over.

  "What's up?"

  "Nothing, dear. Just heading to bed. Don't stay up studying too long. You should be in bed by the time your dad gets home. I hate his new shift schedule."

  "Big test tomorrow," Cam said.

  Mac's getting his nut off and I have to pretend to learn math. Real fair.

  "You'll do fine. Good night, Mac."

  "Night, Mom."

  Cam watched his mom leave before closing Mac's math book and sneaking out and into the bathroom. As he brushed his teeth, the bathroom door opened and Mac entered.

  "How'd it go?" Cam asked his brother's mirror reflection around a foamy, minty mouthful.

  "Balls are navy blue. Shelley still won't put out." Mac stood beside him and started brushing his own teeth. Their arms caught the same rhythm in seconds.

  "Give me a crack at her. You owe me. Mom thinks you were home on time."

  "Fine. Then I get to be you on a date with Brandon. Guaranteed to get my nut off with him."

  "He is easy." Cam elbowed his brother. He couldn't believe how lucky they were. Having a twin gave him twice the clothes, twice the people to screw, twice the life.

  "Deal."

  "Deal."

  They spit in unison and left the bathroom.

  ? ? ?

  "HEY," Shelley said, sitting beside Cam at lunch.

  Am I Mac yet? Nope, haven't switched. Don't come on to her.

  Cam smiled at the gorgeous blonde. Good thing Brandon didn't go to their school. It would be impossible to juggle their boyfriend and girlfriend in the same building.

  "How's it going, Shell?"

  "So good. The student council just struck a deal with the fall carnival commission. We're going to get a percentage of ticket sales from all students we send in."

  "Great. Bran and I will be there will bells on." Or you and I will be there while you finally spread your legs. And Mac will get a BJ from my BF. Life is great. Too bad we're not triplets.

  Mac took a seat next to Shelley. They snuck a kiss before any of the faculty could swoop in and break them up.

  "How's it going, babe?" Shelley asked.

  "Great. Really looking forward to my math test next period."

  "Really? I thought you hated math."

  "Think I'll do okay at it." Mac shared a look with Cam.

  "I should take a piss before class," Cam said. He left the table and made his way into the boys' room. It was empty and he stepped inside the handicapped stall.

  Cam stripped his shirt off and stepped out of his jeans. A few seconds later the stall door opened and Mac entered. He stripped and they swapped clothes. Cam noticed they'd both worn identical maroon briefs without coordinating. As always.

  Two perfect bodies, on
e kickass mind.

  "Is Shelley dumb or are we just that good?" Cam asked.

  "Little of both. Brandon's a freaking genius and he still hasn't figured it out."

  "Or he's a kinky bastard."

  "I kind of like that idea."

  Once they were dressed again, Cam hurried out of the restroom and took Mac's seat next to Shelley.

  "Miss me, babe?"

  "Every second." She leaned in and gave him a peck on the lips. He preferred Brandon but her cherry lips were a close second.

  A part of him hoped Brandon would wise up to their game. It was fun tricking people, but wouldn't it be nice to find a-he shuddered at the thought-soulmate with brain enough to see the minute differences between the two? Someone worthy who he could really get close to.

  Mac came back from the bathroom and ate the rest of Cam's lunch.

  A flock of football assholes strode by. The quarterback slapped Cam on the back.

  "Hey, fags, do you suck each other off every night, or just weekends?"

  Cam and Mac immediately replied, "Only when your mom's busy."

  The jock's buddies laughed and he stormed off.

  Two perfect bodies. One kickass mind.

  The bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, and Cam carried Mac's bag to his math class. He sat in the front row and raised his hand when his brother's name was called during roll. The teacher didn't give him a second glance before passing out quizzes.

  ? ? ?

  BRANDON brought a box of wine and Shelley wore her skimpiest dress. The twins' parents were out of the house and Mac blasted electronica. Before long, the four teens were alternating between gulping red wine and making out. The twins made sure to dress identically so they could switch back and forth whenever they wanted.

  The lights were low, the couch groaning as Cam's tongue ran across Brandon's. He tugged gently on his bottom lip and played with his boyfriend's hair. A few feet away, his mirror image grinded against Shelley.

  Cam pulled away and said, "Should we get chips in the other room, Mac?" Brandon was an easy score, Shelley would be a well-earned feather in his cap.

  "Not yet. No one's hungry," Mac said, momentarily pulling away from his girlfriend.

  "Maybe someone is hungry," Cam insisted.

  "Nope."

  "Shelley? Brandon?"

  "Nope," she said.

  "You're all I need," Brandon said, pulling Cam back into a kiss.

  Stupid freaking romantic awesome guy.

  "We should get to the carnival at some point," Shelley said. "I have to collect the class funds."

  "No time like the present," Cam said.

  "How much does the funhouse cost?" Brandon asked.

  "My treat, cutie," Cam told him, pulling him off the couch.

  "They're so adorable," Shelley whispered to Mac. "Are we that perfect together, too?"

  "Sure. You want to join them in the funhouse?"

  "Okay."

  Cam winked at Mac as he wondered which of them would be paired up during the walk through the dark, sexy maze.

  ? ? ?

  CAM drove the four of them out to the carnival. It looked exactly the same as it did when they were kids. Food vendors peddling sticky greasy treats. The cacophony of music, carnival games and the crowds of kids from school and parents herding children. Flashing lights and dancing shadows.

  Shelley collected funds from the ticket takers for the junior class while Brandon bought chili dogs for the group. The twins wandered off and bought cups of Post Nap Funks from one of the shadier seniors, who hung out all night by a clown doing close-up magic tricks. The four of them reconvened to stuff their faces with carnie food and booze on a sticky bench.

  The twins scarfed down their chili dogs and then deftly switched positions as they entered the funhouse. Cam threw his arm around Shelley's shoulder and watched Mac grab hold of Brandon's hand.

  "This is going to be great, babe," Cam told Shelley. "If you're scared, just squeeze tight."

  "What should I squeeze?" she asked.

  Cam smirked and placed her hand on his crotch. "Right here."

  Shelley squealed and yanked her hand away.

  "Yeah," Mac told Brandon. "So if you're scared, just start rubbing right here."

  "No problem."

  Should have waited to switch.

  The dark hallway narrowed and the floor dropped a few inches. Shelley squealed and squeezed Cam's hand. He felt just as startled but he didn't let her see. Creepy violin music shrieked out of hidden speakers.

  Shapes in the shadows squiggled against the walls and a wicked laughter erupted through the hidden loudspeakers as they walked further through the funhouse. The floor suddenly rose several inches, throwing off the four teens. Shelley clutched Cam and he pulled her in for a kiss.

  "You're awful," she said through a wide grin.

  Colored lights burst through the hallway. Shelley took a step away from Cam, her expression falling as she stared at him.

  "What's wrong?" he asked.

  Shelley reached past Cam and pulled Mac away from Brandon.

  "Hey!"

  Shelley's nostril's flared. She pulled out her cell phone and turned it into a makeshift flashlight.

  "What are you doing?" Brandon asked.

  "Trying not to freak out," Shelley said. "Before, when you bought food, Mac spilled some chili on his shirt."

  Oh shit! Shit shit shit! Threat level damn!

  Brandon pulled back and examined Mac's shirt. "There's a chili stain right here."

  "And none here," Shelley said, tugging on Cam's shirt. "You assholes switched, didn't you?"

  "It was the first time!" the twins protested. "The ultimate compliment!"

  "Screw off!" Shelley shoved her phone back in her pocket and ran out of the attraction.

  "I hope the two of you are happy sharing your pathetic life together," Brandon said. "Wait up, Shell." He hurried after her, leaving the twins alone in the dark corridor.

  "Huh."

  "Yeah, huh."

  "Could have gone worse," Mac said.

  "True."

  Air jets blasted their faces.

  "Let's go."

  Amid the cackling ghouls, fog and strobing lights, they finally reached a bright light at the end of the corridor.

  "Next time, we don't share when food's involved," Mac said.

  "Or how about you're not a slob next time?" Cam asked. He would make it up to Brandon somehow, after he gave him some time to cool off. Mac was screwed with Shelley.

  Cam's left forearm tingled. He reached out and felt it radiating heat.

  "What?" Mac asked as he rubbed his right arm.

  "It's nothing. Let's get out of here."

  The brothers found the well-lit room was the start of a mirror maze.

  "Of course," Cam said. His eyes were drawn to the dozens of identical images. Half of them sported the chili stain that had given them away.

  "Least the chili dog was good."

  "True."

  Mac slammed his fist against the funhouse mirror that twisted their images inside and out. The glass cracked like spider webs but stayed in place.

  "Why'd you do that?" Cam asked.

  "'Cause I'm pissed off."

  "Good point."

  Cam found his arm floating to his side like it was a magnet. It lifted on its own and bumped into Mac's arm.

  "What are you doing?" Mac asked.

  "Nothing." Cam yanked his arm free, but found it took more effort than he'd expect. The heat grew and it was like he was cutting through molasses separating his arm from Mac's.

  "How do we get out of here?" Mac asked.

  "It's a maze set up for kids and old drunks to navigate. Shouldn't be too hard," Cam said. He turned to his side and walked straight into a mirror.

  Mac spun Cam around and pointed out a clear path.

  "Thanks. I really thought I was going to get Shelley's legs open tonight."

  "I'm torn. Would have been nice to have access, but I
didn't want to lose that bet," Mac said. As they slowly made their way through their reflections, Mac's arm jumped out and smacked into Cam's.

  "What are you doing?"

  "Nothing. Static electricity?"

  "Don't be an idiot," Cam said. "Mirrors don't generate static."

  "Ok. What is it then?"

  Cam shoved Mac away with all of his strength but he barely created any distance. "Stop being difficult."

  "I'm not doing anything," Mac grunted.

  "Sure. Let's get out of here."

  "Should we split up?" Mac asked. "To cover more ground?"

  "Never," Cam said.

  "True, we rock. Let's try this way." Mac started down one walkway, his hands extended to keep from bumping into the mirrored walls.

  Cam followed right behind his brother. As they navigated the maze, slowly approaching the thumping carnival music outside, Cam's forearm tingled. He scratched at it but couldn't figure out what was wrong. Once they emerged from the maze into the balmy night, he found red splotches along his arm. He couldn't tell if they were from his scratching or something worse.

  "Can we go home now?" Cam asked.

  "Our dates?"

  "Ditched us and can find their own way back to town."

  "True. Bitches. Let's go, bro."

  Cam let his brother drive as he fumed, staring at the carnival in the rearview mirror.

  "And we paid for their tickets!"

  "Don't worry," Mac said. "After Shelley collected for the class trip I took out a tenner."

  "What?"

  "Why should we have to pay for two tickets? That's racist against twins. You can't tell me you're upset about that?"

  "Well yeah, only 'cause I took out ten, too," Cam said.

  They shrugged in unison and Cam gave up staring in the mirror. Along the way, he felt his left arm pulling away from his body, like it was being controlled by the steering wheel. He lost control of it and he smacked against Mac's arm so hard they spun into the other lane.

  "What the hell!" Mac pulled the car back.

  Cam's heart beat wildly but he couldn't keep his eyes off his arm. It was stuck to his brother's.

  "I'm not doing it," Cam said.

  "Did something spill on you in the funhouse?"

  "No. I don't think so."

  "Well I didn't swim in glue," Mac said.

  "Just get us home." Cam tried leaning away from his brother but their arms wouldn't disconnect.

  By the time they reached their house, they were touching from elbow to wrist. Mac parked the car and both boys opened the doors. Cam immediately realized he'd have to climb through the driver's side and follow Mac inside.

  "Slow down a sec," Cam said as he climbed past the steering wheel.

  "We need some glue remover or something," Mac said.

  "Something."

  They ran inside, shuffling through the door, and into their bathroom upstairs. They examined their arms in the light and couldn't see anything wrong.

  "Here, let me try something," Cam said. He grabbed his forearm with his free hand and pulled, the cords in his biceps straining. Mac followed his lead and tugged on his own arm.

  They finally pulled apart with a ripping sound. Tears formed in Cam' eyes and he rubbed at the red flesh. Skin and hair fell to the floor. Cam felt like his body had been set on fire. From the expression on Mac's face, he felt the same.

  Cam squirted soap on his hand and rubbed it over his sore forearm.

  "You think we got something on us?" Mac asked.

  "Probably. I don't know."

  Mac stripped off his shirt and kicked out of his jeans. He shucked his briefs and turned the shower on, saying, "I'm not taking any risks."

  "Good call."

  Mac stepped under the showerhead and grabbed a bar of soap.

  Cam scrubbed his arm under the faucet but nothing came away except more skin and hair.

  "Maybe Shelley sprayed me with something. Does she carry mace?"

  Mac stepped out of the shower and started toweling off. "How would I know?"

  "You've been dating for weeks."

  "So have you, technically. Get in the shower before the mace or whatever seeps into your pores and leaves you with T-Rex arms."

  Cam threw his clothes on the pile of his brother's and stepped toward the shower. As he did, Mac's leg shot out and connected with Cam's. It felt sticky warm as their calves were crushed together.

  Both boys bent down and tugged but they couldn't pull apart. Cam could barely process what was happening. He looked into his twin's eyes and recognized the mirrored panic.

  Their legs pushed inward even further than was possible. Cam couldn't tell where he stopped and Mac started. Ankle bones crushed and merged, hairy skin wrapping around muscle. As ten toes merged into five, Cam couldn't even tell anything was wrong with the leg they shared.

  Cam's mind went frantic. How could he stop it? What was happening to them?

  The boys' knees were drawn together and as they tried to pull away, their hands grew sticky and bonded together.

  The force pulling them in on each other grew even more aggressive. Cam couldn't even process folding in on Mac. His sweaty body was rocked by a cold shiver even as his tears burned like hot coals sliding down his cheeks.

  The frightened buzzing in Cam's mind amplified like sudden feedback.

  Fingers clawed at flesh. Cam's or Mac's, neither could distinguish. Frantic screaming, fingers pushing against skulls. Screams. Cam's thoughts blended with Mac's. They fought every agonizing second as they lost the single most important person in their lives.

  Someone rapped gently on the bathroom door.

  "Honey, you all right in there?" their mother asked.

  They were incapable of speech as their vocal cords fused into one.

  "He's fine," their father said. "Maybe he wouldn't be like this if he socialized more. That's what happens when you're an only child."

  "Too late now to give him a brother or sister," their mom said.

  Naked twins became one writhing nude boy on his bathroom floor, crying in the fetal position.

  2. AD INFINITUM

  Scott Clark, Scotland