Costly Obsession: Unleashed

By Sasha Pruett

No one said growing up was easy, and those who have are lying. For young Timothy Hawthorne growing up is lonely, confusing, and just a little bit frightening. Conveniently a child’s game, a Ouija board, changes Tim’s loneliness to friendship, confusion to disconcern, and frightfulness to terror.
Timothy’s amazing new best friend is just that, amazing. He has the ability to make bullies hit themselves, to make unfair teachers trip and fall, and make objects appear out of nowhere. Most importantly he is invisible, but Samuel isn’t all the Ouija released. Unleashed is an evil eons older than the earth itself. Cruel, ruthless, and hungry for flesh it rips the skin from its still living victims. Not the police, not the adults, not even Timothy can stop this unnatural force before it possesses them all. Can Samuel prevent the carnage in store, more importantly does he want to?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BeLe Publishing
• Release date: Apr 23, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311590282

Sasha Pruett

Author Sasha Pruett has been writing for more than two decades in various genres from horror to sci-fi, fantasy and adventure. She resides in the south with her husband of more than twenty years where she enjoys taking care of her home and pets. She is an avid reader and gamer and has many hobbies including music, painting, crafting, knitting and more.When asked about what started her desire to become a writer she states, "It wasn't really something I decided like some people do, it wasn't one of those, 'When I grow up I want to be a writer,' or 'I'm going to write a book one day.' It was just something that was a part of who I was; who I am, something that was natural from the time I could remember, something I did that flowed from me. When I was nine I had an idea that I told my father I was going to write a book from, but that was more for myself and for him since he was always interested in my writing. The thought of being a writer was nowhere in my mind since I had so many other interests until years later when I decided to write down a list of all the different story ideas I had. To my surprise there were nearly two dozen ideas on that list and it quickly grew. That was when it hit me, when I realized I had always been a writer and all those short stories I had enjoyed writing over the years were just practice."With a binder filled with over one-hundred storylines and rough drafts she has no shortage of material to keep novels coming for years.

Book preview

Little children, keep yourselves from idols.

I John 5:21

Only five hundred miles stood between him and his final destination, but his concentration was not on his mileage. He was positive he had secured them between his suitcases properly, but every bump and pothole in the road sent doubt throughout his mind and he could not help but worry. He took a great risk, but certain that it was well worth the high blood pressure he pressed on. If he could just keep the heads, his heads, intact everything would be fine. Usually he packed them better, but this time he was in a hurry. He laughed at the thought of taking three heads across two state lines and what the local authority’s reaction to his little surprise would be. He could just picture himself trying to explain that one.

The sun had started its nightly decent into the western horizon nearly blinding him, and his two-day trip from Illinois to Nebraska was finally nearing its end. Tired and exhausted he let out a deep sigh of relief and shifted his sore butt in the seat; again. Even a night at the hotel in Iowa gave little more than a few hours of rest and a headache. The couple in the next room made sure of that. People who fight that loud at three in the morning should be shot! he mused.

When the visor became of little use, he dug in the glove compartment attempting to find the pair of sunglasses he had dumped in there earlier. Maps, napkins, straws, and ketchup packets spilled into the floorboard, as did his much-needed sunglasses. Curses flooded his mind as he leaned over and began groping; his arms stretched as far as they could possibly stretch, and his fingers wildly probed the floorboard. Suddenly his car shuddered, banging his head repeatedly into the steering wheel. Panic welled in his gut, and he forced his body to jerk upright. He swallowed the lump in his throat and with it his fear resolving himself to regain control of his mind and his car. The loose gravel clutched the tires, refusing to let go, sending the wild auto into a series of spins. The sound of his spastically beating heart boomed in his ears and brain. He prayed that what he’d heard was true as he turned into the skid and steadily pumped the brake, fighting the urge to slam full force on the oblong pedal.

His prayers had been answered as the car slid to a stop just inches from a drainage ditch. Unsure of whether he was shaking from the slightly sudden stop or from pure terror he sat clutching the wheel unaware of his white knuckles and cramping digits. Dread turned to anger and vulgarities of every kind traipsed through his mind, yet You idiot! is all that came out.

‘All of this over a stupid pair of sunglasses. No, all of this because you were too lazy to pull off the stinking road. How are you gonna get there if you total the stupid car. Jeez you’d lose your head… head? The heads!’ Franticly he wrestled with the seatbelt, flinging himself out of the car and straight to the ground, kissing the gravel. Now he really felt like an idiot, but at least no one was around to witness his Stooge moment, or to see him on all fours shaking his head like a dog in the dirt.

He stood upright into a cloud of dust drifting nearly a mile down the deserted road, though the tracks gouged in the gravel measured only a few yards. He called himself a name even less flattering than idiot as he made his way to the trunk then realized he hadn’t pressed the trunk release button and had to return to his door. Being cautious, the now bruised and battered man looked both ways, just like his mommy had taught him, before opening the trunk and exposing its contents. A wave of relief, no damage had been done to his precious cargo and he was once again reassured that they would survive the last twenty minutes or so of his journey. He excitedly closed the trunk lid and sighed then sped off to the western horizon leaving behind yet another trail of dust to scatter in the dusk.

The dirt encrusted Ford slid into a lonesome driveway at exactly 6:07 p.m., just as the front door of the large log house flung open and out burst the skinny little boy he’d been wanting to see.

Uncle Alex, Uncle Alex, what’d ya bring me!? The ten-year-old boy flung himself into his uncle’s strong arms, giving him a huge hug… Uncle Alex smiled.

Well it’s my birthday today ain’t it?

All right Trev, are you ready for your surprise?

Now that’s a stupid question Uncle Alex, of course I’m ready!

Then let me get unpacked first; go see if your mom needs help while I talk to your dad.

You heard him, run on in while I help Uncle Alex with his bags. With his son safely out of earshot Nick turned back to his brother, Did you bring them?

Of course, but we have to hurry, we don’t have much time.

*****

With dinner digesting and all of the joy and excitement of presents coming to an end it was finally time for Alex’s surprise. Trevor’s own anticipation had occupied him while Alex and his brother made all the preparations, tonight would be one that they would never forget, especially Trevor.

The group rose from the table and with the birthday boy in front of them they guided him to his own pitch-dark bedroom. Confused, Trevor could only stare ahead straining his eyes to focus in the dark, yet saw only a slim line of boxes. Suddenly he was blinded by the light bearing down from above. He blinked feverishly before finally focusing on three rectangular plexi-glass cases, each containing the Holy Grail of the macabre; a perfectly repulsive severed head.

Trevor’s small fingers traced the corners of the protective cases then flipped the tiny switch at the base, lighting even the most delicate details of its contents.

How’d you get away with it? I mean I can’t believe that they’d just let you walk out with those. asked Trevor’s mother.

Uncle Alex! These are the greatest. Where’d you get them?

They’re from my private collection.

You mean you did them yourself? his mother gasped.

Sure, that’s what I do Betty.

I wanna be just like you when I grow up Uncle Alex!

A smile played on Alex’s lips, for there was no greater complement than that. It takes a lot of hard work, study, and talent… but I think you’ll do just fine. You may even be better than me one day.

You really think so?

Of course. Besides, special effects artistry is a booming business, even the computer techs still need models to go by.

Are they just rubber or what exactly?

Actually they’re a special latex blend fitted over an animatronic endoskeleton. The remote, which resembles a toy car remote, is still in my suitcase. He’s gonna need a few lessons before I hand that over to him.

Can we start tonight Uncle Alex? Please…PLEASE!

Not tonight partner, it’s bedtime.

The three heads, exquisite in every way, rested flawlessly on one long shelf against the wall directly opposite his black wrought iron bunk bed that was adorned with chains and handcuffs. Most nights Trevor would lie awake tracing his handmade spider’s web shadow as it danced eerily on the ceiling until he fell into a dreamless sleep, but tonight he would gaze at the still lit cases until the sandman worked his nightly magic.

Chapter Two

And the word of the Lord came unto me a second time,...

Jeremiah 1:13

Trevor forced himself awake as the image of a decaying man’s face hovered in his mind. It happened again. He slipped quietly out of bed and flipped the switch to the second case extinguishing the light above the mechanical zombie head then shuffled back to bed, but just as he was about to climb back up he stopped and turned back to the last lit case. He stared into the blank face that was his third gift from his uncle wondering how it could possibly be frightening, maybe it was less about what was there and more about what wasn’t and he flipped the light switch throwing the room into utter darkness. He hadn’t expected it to be that dark and he shuttered and turned the light back on. Not because he was afraid of the dark he told himself, but because he wasn’t afraid of that head. He climbed back into his bunk, his back against the vastness of the empty room, but that same emptiness seemed to close in on him sending shivers throughout his ten year old body and he instinctively turned around into the eerie glow of the room.

He began to hate how the shadows played on the walls, the floor, the ceiling. For the first time in half a decade he felt like crawling into his parent’s bed and he buried his head deep under the covers. There he lay in the dark; playing with his shirt, reasoning with himself. Maybe he was a little too young for so much. Maybe he was a little too obsessed. Maybe there were things he didn’t know and didn’t understand about the world and beyond. He could still be an engineer. Just look at those Tolkien and Narnia movies, those guys created amazing things. He wasn’t... wouldn’t be running away from anything, it wasn’t like he was being a baby. The word slapped him in the face, that’s exactly what he was acting like, a scared little baby.

It was all fake; all make believe from someone’s imagination. There were no such things as werewolves, zombies or monsters. It was all because he fell asleep staring at them and who wouldn’t, besides the third one was blank; a nothing and that’s about as scary as a person with a sheet over them pretending to be a ghost. Boo! They were only bad dreams, he’d had them before and if he couldn’t handle a couple of bad dreams he wouldn’t make it very far in this world, besides he’d probably forget all about them by the morning and if he didn’t they’d make a few good stories anyway. Determined and resolute Trevor flung the blankets from over his head and slipped into a deep and perilous sleep.

Costly Obsession

Unleashed

...from the beginning to the end.

Ecclesiastes 3:11

Chapter One

Train up a child in the way he should go: and when he is old, he will not depart from it.

Proverbs 22:6

Summer had arrived early to Medford Oregon and few were as excited or worried about it than Timothy Hawthorne or at least that’s how he felt. The day promised so much and could be the best day of his life, but it could just as easily go the other way, fast and he knew it. The preparations had been made, everyone had been notified, it was now or never. Well, okay so maybe now or never was a bit of an exaggeration, but to an eleven year old hosting his first boy girl party it felt like it could be the beginning of greatness or the end of life as he knew it. Come Monday morning he’d either be the king of the fifth grade hall or he’d be better off crawling under a rock for the last few weeks of school and transferring someplace else for the next term. Okay that was an exaggeration; almost, but hey that was school and from what Tim could tell it was only going to get worse from here on out.

Hey kiddo, excited about tonight?

Uhh?

I get the feeling excited isn’t exactly the right word. What’s wrong?

I don’t know?

Don’t give me that. We both know that’s not true, now out with it. How am I supposed to help if you won’t talk to me? Come on, today may be your birthday, but you have to admit I’m still older than you and I might know a thing or two.

Duh, you’re my dad.

Well?

What if nobody comes? I mean, well, if you haven’t noticed I’m not Mr. Popular. What if no one shows up? Do you know how embarrassing that would be, I’d die. I’d definitely have to change schools, maybe even move.

Whoa there sport, slow down. Move; don’t you think that’s a little extreme? Then again I hear Hawaii’s nice this time of year. What do you think, change the snow shovel and parka for a hammock and surf board?

Langston loved to make his son smile, that smile meant the world to him and made the late hours and hard work worth it all.

Sounds good I’ll go pack, you tell mom.

Tell you what, you tell your mother I’ll start packing.

Okay, you win. We’ll stay, for now.

The joyful sounds of screams and splashing turned Timothy’s playful smirk to an ear to ear beam of delight and he ran to his window peering down to see at least eight kids already cannon-balling into the large in ground pool that was part of the oasis the Hawthorne’s had spent thousands to create. It was in truth the envy of the block and Timothy’s eleventh birthday coupled with a beautifully timed heat wave gave the couple the perfect chance to enjoy their investment and of course flaunt it a little too.

Hey birthday boy, you’d better get out here your missing your own party! Tim was out the door and down the steps before his mother had finished her sentence, bursting through the back door to see three more kids from school walking through the gate into the yard. This was going to be a good day! Balloons floated in giant bunches in every nook and corner catching the light and sending vibrant rainbows dancing to the pop music in all directions. There was a table with a growing pile of presents in all shapes, sizes, and colors and two more adorned with junk food of every imaginable kind. It was truly a kid’s paradise for the day. There was cake and massive amounts of ice cream; burgers, hot dogs, and pizza flowed like the chocolate fountain on the table in the corner and enough legal fireworks to rival the fourth of July. Gift bags for the kids were stuffed as full as the kids they were given to, and the paper from all the presents flew in all directions before being caught and bagged in a game of paper wrangling, the winner getting a prize of his or her very own.

When the sun descended and it grew too cool to even put a toe in the pool, the bonfires were lit and out came the marshmallows and of course more hot dogs. With the music still wafting on the breeze and the more than a dozen and a half kids spilt into groups around four ornate fire pits laughing and toasting their goodies Timothy Hawthorne’s day was as close to perfect as he could imagine, until that is he overheard what one group was laughing at.

Can you believe this lame party?

Tell me about it, and those baby gifts!

You mean the gift bags or his presents?

Both, I mean yeah the bags are stupid, but his presents; really? Have you seen anything so lame?

Oh I know and he was so excited about them too. What a jerk!

Do you think he actually believes that one works?

What one?

The game board thing, what do you call it? Ouijie?

Oh yeah the Ouija board thing.

Do you think he actually believes in that stuff?

I SEE DEAD POEPLE. With that the group burst into laughter and Timothy nearly burst into tears.

I only came because my mom said I had to. I think she just wanted to see their yard and the pool.

That’s the only reason I’m here.

What to see the yard?

No, the pool stupid!

Well, that’s over with now, it’s too cold to swim.

Might as well go home.

You gonna take your bag?

Might as well, it’s only junk stuff anyway, but it might be fun seeing it melt in the microwave. They knew he was there, behind them, listening in and they didn’t care. A few of the kids turned away from Timothy embarrassed they had been heard, one or two even regretted going along with the others, but the core of the group looked him dead in the eye as they sneered and walked out, grabbing their stuff and laughing at him. His heart sank and all the joy of the day was killed in that instant. Maybe it would have been better if no one had showed up at all. At least not them, they could have stayed home and saved him the trouble. Tim was about to turn and run inside, heartbroken and suddenly shy and embarrassed of the party that only moments ago he had been so proud of. That’s when Sally popped up, she was his next door neighbor and as close a friend as a girl was allowed to be at this age of cooties and girl germs.

"You know, Josh and I were just talking about how this is the best party we’ve