Odd Ends: A Double Shot of Horror

By Jeff Barr

Two horror short stories by Jeff Barr, author of THE SKUNGE.

THE CRECHE: Two hikers find more than they bargained for in the wilderness.

LATE NIGHT DOUBLE FEATURE: When hell comes calling to small-town America, even death offers no escape.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jeff Barr
• Release date: May 21, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310546181

Jeff Barr

Hi! I'm Jeff Barr, a writer of dark fiction. I live in the Pacific northwest, where I work in software. I write horror, crime, and thrillers: my debut horror novel, THE SKUNGE, will be released 2014. For a limited time, you can get some of my short fiction ebooks for 0.99 (or free if you sign up for my newsletter at http://www.jeffbarr.com). These are 'doubles', a collection of two short stories that represent some of my darkest, most depraved writing. Expect sex, violence, gore (as well some dark humor), and plenty of action.

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Odd Ends – A Double Shot of Horror

By Jeff Barr

Published by Jeff Barr at Smashwords

Copyright 2014 Jeff Barr

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

All characters appearing in this work are fictitious.

Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

Doom Point Books

www.doompoint.com

The Crèche

Lauren sighed, sat up beside me, and reached for a cigarette. In the old days, she would never have smoked in the house. Times change.

Do you ever think about that day in the woods?

My eyes were blurry with almost-sleep, but I knew enough to turn my back to her when I answered. No. And you shouldn’t either.

I can’t help it, I-

"You can help it, Lauren. Don’t get all that crazy shit stirred up again. It’s the last thing you need." I closed my eyes, willing the conversation to be over, willing her to just not talk about it any more. My head thumped with tomorrow’s hangover. Even with all the practice, putting away a fifth of vodka still kicked my ass.

Oh, yeah, of course, Ray. Poor little Lauren, all wound up inside of her head. She was shaking, hard enough to make the bed vibrate in sympathy. Let me tell you something, Ray. I’m fine. You’re the one who’s cracking up.

Cracking up. I pictured my head as a gigantic cartoon Humpty-Dumpty egg with a jagged crack running down the side. If only it were that simple—I could slap a bandaid across my fractured psyche and wait for the healing to begin. Wouldn’t that be nice. Lauren, come on—

I’m not taking these pills any more, Ray. She threw down a rattling orange tube. Paroxetine, the de rigueur treatment for bipolar disorder, PTSD, various and sundry other disorders of the mind. In our brave new world, there is a pill for everything. Her voice got quiet. Maybe you need them more than me. Ray, I think I might be—

"Jesus Christ. I rolled over, awake now, and grabbed a smoke of my own. It’s like you need a goddamn nursemaid. You just need to get over it. That’s all. You need to take those pills. You’re going to take them."

"Oh, fuck you Ray. Seriously, just fuck you. I am