Twisted Nightmares

By Lauren Schwark

A malicious collection of short horror stories. These twenty-one spine tingling shorts have an exciting twist that are full of personality and action. These troubled, haunted, psychotic souls will keep you questioning and reading more. What scares you the most? Better yet, just ask Jack.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lauren Schwark
• Release date: Mar 11, 2012
• ISBN: 9781452486307

Lauren Schwark

Born and raised in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan.

Book preview

Twisted Nightmares

Lauren Schwark

Copyright Lauren Schwark 2011

ISBN: 9781452486307

Published at Smashwords

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Twisted Nightmares

Contents

Jack-O-Lantern

Jack in the Box

Valentine’s Day

Ding Dong Ditch

Homeward Bound

Barnyard Blitz

Full Moon

Love

Threshold

Outcast

Ice Cold

Smiling Clowns

Safe house

The Closet

Cast from the Shadows

Little Fuzzy Bunnies

Ice Cream

China Doll

Infection

Rear View

The Patchwork Clown

Hook, Line, and …

The Rooster and the Fox

Home Alone

Jack-O-Lantern

Halloween. Time for the yearly festivals of corn mazes and children running around in costumes asking for candy. With some offering a treat in exchange. Over the years, Dave Thomson grew to enjoy this holiday more than any other. It was a time he could express himself in ways that might seem weird to others. Yes, he was a strange individual, but on the last day of October, he felt at one with the costumed hooligans that ran amuck in the neighborhoods. Dave, with his throwback nerd outfits, fitting in for one day a year. He was an outcast, always was. Teased and ridiculed, by one individual in particular, throughout his whole life. This year would be different. He finally came to terms with who he was and what he needed to do. This was his day. Twenty-four hours in which he wouldn't be laughed at.

The perfect Jack-o-Lantern. An object of awe in his tiny suburban neighborhood. The contest proved who was the most creative and placed its winner upon a pedestal. People would talk for weeks about him afterward. Silly, really, when you think about, it but in a small town like this, nothing is silly. The town would gain national press for some of the creative works that came forth from their residents. Attention that Dave would anoint as only his after he had won the blue ribbon. There was no question about it in his mind. It was his to win this year. No one could even come close to the design concept that he had generated. This year, Dave would outdo himself. No more second-best. No longer, Well, you still have next year, you loser. This year would be different. This year would be great. No more laughing. Tim would not take first place as he always did with everything.

Dave handpicked the prize object to be carved, watched it grow all year. It would be the largest of the bunch. Hell, it was the largest in the whole town. It wasn’t just the size but also its shape, perfectly round and juicy. No flaws and it came with the others in a nice package deal. Everyone would come from miles to see it, he mumbled to himself when he finally procured it, cutting it free from its thick stalk. Quietly in the night, he took it, along with the others, which cut free so nicely, leaving little mess. Making sure not to mar their surfaces. It would be in all the newspapers. The smaller ones used to adorn the larger centerpiece. The grand prize perched atop a pedestal overlooking all others. The looks on his neighbors’ faces when he pulled the cover off. They would be the ones laughed at this year. Their tired old jack-o-lanterns belonged in a different class. Amateurs.

He took great care in preparing his lantern. Keeping it cool as he worked on it, but not too cold. He did not want discoloration. He sharpened his carving tools, now so sharp he could shave the closest of hairs off his arm. He did just that out of curiosity, to test the tools.

The laughing at his past failures. This town did not know art. They could not grasp his conceptualism. This year, he chose the classic design. Carve away at the outer shell; not too deeply; he needed the rich color just beneath the rind for contrast.

Dave was giddy while he worked, like a small child working on an art project. Not from his childhood, though. Someone else’s. A happier child in a happier place. He pushed the tip ever so slightly through the outer husk, just enough to etch a design that he peeled away. It was a frightened cat with its hair standing on end. Dave had had a cat once. Tim the bully was scratched by it when they were kids after he shook it and yelled at it. Dave never saw his cat again. Oh Tim, you were always such a fat-headed dum-dum, Dave said aloud. Taking everything that was rightfully mine.

He worked next on tree carvings and a few ghosts. The liquid beneath the rind ran down a bit after he peeled the skin away, but a wipe of the thumb easily cleaned it up.

The innards came next. Too much anticipation, excitement, over the designs on the outside, Dave clean forgot the insides. This was the most important part. He was always forgetting. Absent-minded or neglectful, as his wife said in the divorce papers. He hummed a tune while he carved a wide circle around the top. The blade on the Dremel bogged down as he completed the last cut. Dave had mighty, large hands, and he needed the extra-wide opening to accommodate those giant paws. Accommodate, much as Tim accommodated his wife. Tim was even nice enough to drive her to court, in Dave’s car. Well, her car as it turned out, after the proceedings.

Dave scooped out the innards of his jack-o-lantern with a smile. They were very messy, messy indeed. Her white knight had turned into the prince of pain. Dave would see her bruises when they crossed paths at the grocery, the same store where she would remind him of the restraining order.

These innards just don't want to come out of this one. Dave continued to talk to himself while he worked. He kept thinking of first-prize ribbons being pinned to his table or, better yet, upon his lapel. No one would laugh at a winner. He would have his moment. His chance to not be the loser.

After the cavity was empty, he pulled out his paring knife and cut out the eyeholes. These would be what captured everyone’s attention. The candles he would use burned a beautiful, rich blue, thanks to the metallic dust he’d mixed in with the wax. Everyone would be in awe. No one would be laughing.

Dave laughed. He thought back to the athletic Tim, who always got the girl he wanted, even Dave’s. He thought of the now-very-obese Tim with the large round head, who had won last year's competition with Dave’s wife clinging to his arm. She's the one who pointed at my artistic expression and got everyone else to start laughing. Watched as Tim grew in size all year. Well, not this year, Tim. I picked the best pumpkin this year. I didn’t trace any carvings, either. You can tell I freehanded everything. There are extra points for that. Dave mumbled to himself as he tested the candles inside. Now it was complete. The other jack-o-lanterns that he would use to accentuate his masterpiece he kept simple. One medium and two small. Just the basic eye, nose and mouth holes. Even the candles inside them were basic, small, white ones.

Dave slept little that night. The noises of the neighborhood rang inside his ears, lulling him in and out of sleep. The police car sirens serenading, the ambulances blaring, car stereos booming inside rattling MOPARs from the ‘70s. Images of his display placed upon a piece of plywood, inside the garage, covered by a sheet, painted his memory. He dreamt of giant, sinuous blue ribbons he could dance with as he poked his finger into everyone’s faces in triumph.

I'm the best now. Nobody’s ever gonna laugh at me again, Dave grumbled as sirens blasted outside.

The next day, Halloween, finally came. Dave carefully loaded his jack-o-lantern display into the bed of his pickup truck, being careful not to uncover it for fear that a neighbor would steal his idea. That would mean fewer points for originality, he commented out loud, knowing the lanterns he procured were one of a kind.

The drive was slow, as Dave was extra-careful to not damage his display. He knew he would be the first one there. First…a word he liked today, for once. He selected the big table to set up on. The first table. They won't even need to look at any others. Last year, he had had the last table. Tim’s two kids spent the whole afternoon throwing things at him. Just like their father, round-headed dum-dums every one of them.

The populace filtered in and soon the place was full. It was time to begin. Butterflies filled Dave’s stomach. A crowd gathered as he pulled the sheet from the best jack-o-lantern set in the whole place, the whole world. The noisy crowd fell silent. Then the murmurs began. Someone screamed in the background and chaos erupted. The judges threw their hands into the air in their bid to be one of the first to run out of the building. Drifting slowly downwards was the blue first-place ribbon, which landed upon Dave's project. A tear came to his eye. He was first. No one was laughing.

He waited for the place to finish emptying, picked up the prize ribbon, and pinned it loosely to his chest. He proudly grabbed his jack-o-lantern display and carried it back outside.