The Dark Hereafter

By Lex Williams

WARNING: Contains high impact horror and mature themes. Discretion is advised.

A collection of sixty short stories that range from horrifying, to weird, to meta.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lex Williams
• Release date: Jun 19, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310154874

Lex Williams

Lex Williams is a novelettist ( although occasionally writing novellas with the rare novel ) whose intent is to take advantage of self-publishing stories to provide interesting, different and weird ideas that you won't find in traditionally published stories. Williams typically writes for the horror genre ( usually dipping into the surreal variety ), but has explored other areas, such as ( non erotic ) romance and science fiction.

Book preview

Drain

Dim rays of light creeped through the boarded up window, outlining the silhouette of a man tied to a chair. Another man emerged from the darkness, whistling and slapping the back of the chair.

The man in the chair jolted, his limbs restrained by the thick ropes. His eyes darted around, What the fuck?

The other man patted him on the head, Calm down.

Who the fuck are you?

The other man stepped around the chair and leaned in close. His lip curled and his eyes stared.

I said calm down. He stepped away from the chair, running his hand through his hair. He turned back with a smile, I’m Angus, pleased to meet you, and you are? The man in the chair shook his head. Angus punched the wall next to him, I said, and. You. Are?

Orfeo.

Good. Pleased to meet you, Mr Orfeo.

The two men paused.

Orfeo whispered, Where am I?

Angus leaned against the wall, pulled out a cigarette and lit it with his lighter, A dingy old apartment block, on the edge of the nice part of Warrawirrin Metropolis.

Angus took a deep breath from the cigarette. Orfeo’s voice cracked, Why?

Angus chuckled and took the cigarette from his mouth; he leaned over to Orfeo and placed it in the man’s mouth. Angus sighed, Why is a good question, not a question many people ask. He stood back up and crossed his arms, Are you familiar with Superheroes?

Orfeo took a tentative breath from the cigarette and nodded.

"Good, because the villains are normally asked that question, but it’s one the Superhero never has to answer, which is kind of odd, given the sheer monstrosity that they represent. You see, Superheroes are actually villains as well. The only reason they aren’t locked up with the rest of them is because they work with the police.

"The police give concessions to Superheroes; these people who operate outside of the law, and essentially deputise them for the express purpose of working around red tape. Take a certain caped vigilante of the night, who is basically the secret police of his city, there to unlawfully judge and imprison, based on information unlawfully obtained, anyone he deems unfit to live outside of prison.

"Now, you might turn to me and say, but he’s only attacking the criminals. However, I retort, who defines what makes a criminal? The law, obviously. But didn’t we just establish that Superheroes work outside of the law? If they were so concerned about the law, then why do they enforce it for everyone except themselves?

"The reason is, as I mentioned, because Superheroes are the secret police. They don’t capture criminals, they captures dissenters. I mean, sure, some genuinely bad people will be in that group, but you might notice that the only people they leave alone are the people content to live in a world where the police are too incompetent to handle villains dressed in tights.

"The fact that the police generally chase after them too, but are never fully equipped to do so, shows just how unwilling the politicians and leaders of these fictional worlds are to provide the resources to fight them. They’re just too useful, or the politicians are in on it. Hence, secret police; secret even to the regular police.

Superheroes live in a twisted place, and Superheroes, like that particular caped vigilante, never change. They can try, but they always return to that some conflicting existence, spreading injustice to those around them.

Orfeo held the cigarette between his teeth as he responded, And?

Angus scoffed, You know all about a conflicting existence, don’t you? Mister Capital Banker, ready to bring good money to the world. Outside of the injustice you bring behind closed doors.

You’re calling me a Superhero?

A sick smile drew upon Angus’ face, Well, if you are, then I guess I must be your Supervillian. He leaned in close and whispered, But between you and me, you know you're a monster, and monsters tend to attract bigger monsters.

Orfeo spat out the cigarette. Angus glared at it and stomped it into the floor. Orfeo shook his head, Look, I don’t know what you heard about me, but it’s not true.

Oh really?

Angus walked off into the darkness as Orfeo called after him, I haven’t hurt anyone. My job is to handle people’s money and I do that well. I handle people’s life earnings with care and I hurt no-one doing it. You’ve got to have me confused with someone else, what do you say we just forget the whole thing? Laugh about it one day, hey? Hey?

Angus called out from the darkness, I’m listening.

I have money. Have you ever spent a million dollars at once before?

Angus walked back from the darkness, a machete in one hand, You think you can just throw money at me and make me disappear? Do you know what I do here?

Orfeo hesitated, No, what?

Angus leaned over and flicked on a switch. A bright light blinded Orfeo. He blinked as his eyes adjusted.

Underneath the chair, the bloodstained carpet was covered with a plastic sheet. The only other thing in the room was a desk with a number of bloody tools.

Angus knelt in front of Orfeo and whispered, I am a professional serial killer.

Whatever they’re paying you, I’ll double it, Angus laughed, Triple it.

Angus turned away as he responded, Not that kind of professional. More of a hobby, really. He turned back to Orfeo, You know what I’m very good at? Tracking people. I used to perform background checks for the military. You learn all manner of tricks to expose just what kind of person you’re looking at. Angus sighed, Go on, ask me.

What?

Say it, just say it.

Orfeo spoke through gritted teeth, How come you haven’t been cau-

Ha! Because I’m so fucking good. I know the tricks to find me. Consider the fact that, at any moment, you could scream your lungs off and no-one would hear you. The nearest person in this apartment block is two storeys down. Not only that, they’re old and half deaf.

Angus laughed and shook his head, More to the point, I know everything about you. I know that you have a violent temper, something your money and privilege prevented from ever going to court. Tell me, did you ever use that money to help out the poor woman you left crippled? Don’t answer that, I already know you didn’t do enough.

Orfeo giggled out of fear, So what? You think you're some sort of Superhero? You think you can just do what you want to people you don’t think are worthy?

Isn't that the very definition of a Superhero? Besides, the fact that you’ve done a few bad things in the past is less relevant than the fact that the crippled woman you left is going to look a lot more suspicious than some butcher who works in a shop in Lowetown.

Orfeo looked around in a panic, Then why mention anything?

Angus pointed his machete at his victim, I just want you to think about how much you fucking deserve this. Unless you have no guilt for what you’ve done, in which case, consider us brothers in cruelty. Or, if you like, I'm your monster. Consider yourself a christened hero.

Angus laughed to himself. He turned around, opened the door and walked across the hall to the bathroom. Orfeo watched him hunch over the sink and whistle.

Angus turned the tap and stopped whistling. No water came out. He grunted and turned the tap further.

Blood spat from the faucet, followed by a stream of water. Angus watched the water clean away the blood and sighed; he’d need to get a plumber at some point. He washed his hands and the machete underneath the tap and turned it off.

Angus opened a cabinet and removed some hair spray. He sprayed it on and slicked his hair back.

***

Orfeo watched the madman place the hair spray next to the sink. Angus turned around, machete in hand, and approached him with a wicked smile.

First, we’re going to have a little fun. Then, I’m going to take you to the bathtub and you’re going to bleed out.

Angus raised the blade. Orfeo screamed.

Blood dripped down and spilt over the plastic sheet. The scream turned into a short gargle, and ended in a grunt. Droplets fell onto the small red pool, spreading short-lived ripples.

***

Orfeo sobbed through gritted teeth. Angus laughed and whispered, I like your style. Guess I’m done preparing you. He dropped the machete on the ground and entered the bathroom.

He stepped over to the toilet and held a bloody ear over it. He looked down into the toilet bowl. Underneath the water was an obscured object. It was reddish brown, with spots of deeper reds over it and it extended all the way back into the drain pipe.

Angus blinked twice and mumbled, That is not mine. He opened the small bin next to the toilet and dropped the ear into it. He stared at the strange object as he flushed the toilet.

Water rushed into the toilet bowl and rose. The object tilted. The water level swelled and stopped at its highest point. Angus stared, wide-eyed. He didn’t want to touch that thing; it looked like a giant worm had been turned inside out.

The object slunk into the toilet’s drain and the water receded. It was gone and the water was back to a normal level in less than a second. Angus let out a breath and raised his eyebrows. Orfeo groaned. Angus opened his hand, not having realised they were clenched, and turned on the tap again.

An object, small and dark red, flew out of the faucet, followed by a hissing stream of blood. Angus threw up his hands and stared at the object in the sink; it was a smaller version of what he saw in the toilet bowl, although this one ended in a point.

The object twisted like a removed tail and came to a stop. The blood that drained from the faucet turned more opaque until it was just water. The tail went limp.

Angus peered closer. The object appeared to be a smooth reddish-brown colour covered in a rough red mesh. The mesh had various uneven holes in it, and as Angus looked closer, he could see faint traces of purple spots on the smooth skin of the tail.

Angus leaned back and turned off the faucet. He opened a cabinet and took out a pair of tweezers. He eased the tweezers over the tip of the tail and picked it up. It twitched. He hurled it into the toilet and slammed the seat down.

***

Orfeo groaned and tried to find a reason that none of it was real. Pain throbbed in the side of his head, so he could easily have been sleeping on it, and this nightmare formed around it. That had to be it.

He drew in a breath as Angus returned and held his head to the side. Orfeo shivered. Angus wrapped some bandages around Orfeo’s head. Orfeo opened his eyes. The bandages pulled his jaw tight.

He whispered through gritted teeth, What are you doing?

Angus clipped the bandages together and grunted back, Shut up. I’m going to call someone over and you’re going to wait right here, got it? No sound, or I cut your voice box out.

Orfeo felt tears well-up under his eyes and watched the blurry image of Angus leaving and closing the door. Orfeo looked down and sobbed.

He didn’t deserve this. He was a terrible person, but he was never violent with anyone. His high society parents taught him that he came first, above all else, and he’d abused the emotions of many women over the years.

It was always the same, he’d impress them with lavish gifts and they’d eat up his poetic charm. But then, when they wanted to get more serious, to be more than just arm candy, they conflicted with his ego and he’d yell them down.

They would hear what he thought of them and how he expected them to act. Some tried to argue, others just screamed, but in the end, he had the last say. Money and privilege enabled that.

Some of them left, hurt but wiser, others took longer to understand and ended up spiteful and twisted. There were few who didn’t understand and left him as nervous wrecks after having tried to survive in his selfish world.

As horrible as he had been, and for the all the people he hurt on the way, none of it slowed him down. None until his last girlfriend.

They were drunk and he encouraged an act of drunken stupor that left her spine twisted and her legs useless. At the time, there was a tiny voice in the back of his head that felt responsible, but it was drowned out by his ego and he dumped her.

He thought nothing of it, and didn’t give her any money until months later, after he was sued and they settled out of court. She still didn’t get enough money; his lawyers bullied her into taking a smaller amount of cash.

It wasn’t until a week ago, when she rolled into a business he owned to take a job. He saw her, from behind a glass window and past the employees that moved about, as she struggled to pull her wheelchair up the small steps.

The money did nothing; it couldn’t fix her. His whole life, money got him what he wanted and removed what he didn’t, and there was nothing else in his world that couldn’t be bought, except her pain.

Tears streamed down his face and he whimpered.

All he had was money, but it couldn’t do anything. He might as well have had nothing, and that thought frightened him.

He didn’t know what to do; everything he knew revolved around money. He didn’t get a chance to think about it, last night he stayed up late, as he wrote and struggled to think of a solution; then he was assaulted and brought here.

Steps stomped down the apartment and the door was barged open. Angus bared his teeth and barked, Keep it down. I can hear you whimpering down in the hall.

***

Angus slammed the door shut, and stomped down to the living room. He had cash, and he managed to entice a plumber with the promise of cash to come over as soon as possible. He took a seat on his couch and sighed.

It didn’t bode well, but there wasn’t much he could do about it. He had a conscious victim and he couldn’t murder it until his plumbing was fixed. He had a routine.

He would drain their blood in the bathtub, rinse it out, and bury their body in a plot of land he owned. No-one saw him take his victim, and no-one would see him get rid of the body.

He was very careful, always particular that nobody was looking in order to catch his prey, and the body would go in a wooden box, with a bunch of other boxes. Nobody would suspect there was body in one, and the land he buried it in was surrounded by a big fence.

It was flawless.

It didn’t even matter if the police knew his victim was missing, all he needed was for them to never need to suspect him. Of course, he went the extra mile and took victims who had someone that would gain immediate suspicion, just to throw them off.

It was purely to throw the police off, as the longer they pissed about, the harder it would be to track him.

***

Orfeo rocked back and forth in his chair. The door opened. He closed his eyes. A familiar pair of hands grabbed his face and wrapped bandages around his mouth. He let out a whimper. Angus clipped the bandages closed and spoke, Look. Angus reefed Orfeo’s head to the side and stared. Orfeo’s eyes opened up in fright. Angus grinned, Listen, he’ll be here shortly. So do yourself a favour, and just go to sleep. His hands left Orfeo’s face and he took a step backwards, with a devilish smile he turned off the light.

Someone knocked at the door to the apartment. Angus turned and pulled the door closed as he raced to it. The door slid forwards, bouncing off the doorframe and resting open by a small crack.

Orfeo could hear the sound of their conversation; talking and laughing. He looked around; there was a machete on the floor beside him and the wall. If he could get to the ground, then he could reach it and cut off the ropes around each arm.

***

Angus lead the plumber down to the bathroom, he pointed to it and looked to the opposite door. It was open by a fraction. The plumber turned around and watched Angus stare at it, Everything all right?

Angus’ eyes darted to the plumber, Yeah. Everything’s good. Just in there is the bathroom.

***

Orfeo leaned forward. The chair titled forward on two legs. He leaned to the side and one of the back legs lifted up. He turned his foot and twisted the chair.

Pain shot up his foot as he felt his whole weight pressed against his toes. He pushed his foot and twisted it back and the chair rotated toward the door.

The door knob creaked as someone grabbed it and the door moved a fraction. A voice from behind it called out, What? Do you want me to do this or not?

A voice spoke back, Yeah. Just fucking fix it. Jesus.

I need you here to point it out for me, I’m not just going to rip apart your bathroom for fun.

Fine.

The door shifted back and the latch sat against doorframe.

Orfeo let out a hesitant breath and rotated the chair until it faced the wall. He shifted his weight to the opposite side. The chair hit the ground with a soft thud. He closed his eyes.

He paused. There was muffled discussion.

He opened his eyes, glancing to the side.

More muffled talk.

He looked to the wall in front of him and hoped he wasn’t too close.

He leaned back and forward. The chair rocked back and forth, further and further. He leaned in forward. The chair rocked toward the wall. Orfeo’s forehead slammed into the wall.

***

The plumber, who peered over the sink, turned to the door across from the bathroom. He looked at Angus, who stared back, What the fuck was that?

Angus raised his eyebrows, Nothing. You going to fix this or what?

The plumber sighed, I’m going to have a look at the pipes underneath.

Angus leaned toward him, Then do it.

***

Orfeo slid his head down the wall until the top of the chair touched it. His feet pushed against the floor and walked the front two legs of the chair back. The top of the chair slid down the wall.

His feet kept walking until they couldn’t touch the floor any more. He was almost horizontal to the floor, but his hand still couldn’t reach the machete. He’d have to touch the ground.

He couldn’t think of a way to get to the ground without making another loud noise. He closed his eyes and sighed.

Orfeo leaned to one side and his foot touched the ground. He pushed off from it and the chair spun to the side. One corner of the chair’s top touched the wall. It slid down and his knees slammed into the ground.

His fingers touched the handle of the machete.

***

The cabinet underneath the sink was open and the plumber had a wrench to the pipes. He turned around to Angus.

Angus glared, Don’t worry about it. What’s wrong with my plumbing, Mario?

The plumber sighed. He reached out and jiggled the pipes, You see that?

Yeah.

There’s something in there, holding the pipes together.

What, like glue?

No, a foreign object longer than a single section of pipe. I’ll try to loosen it up, but you may want to stand back.

Angus raised his hands and stepped back, with the door opposite to the bathroom behind him.

The plumber attached the wrench to a coupling nut and reefed it to the side. The nut snapped and exploded. Part of a nut hit the plumber in the face and he fell backwards. Another caught Angus in the arm.

Angus cried out in pain, Fucking shit. You broke it.

A door creaked. They both turned to it.

The door opposite the bathroom swung open and there was Orfeo. He was tied into the chair, with bandages around his mouth and head. He held a machete in one hand, the tip of which cut through the ropes on the opposite arm.

Orfeo pulled his arm free and looked at the open doorway. The plumber decided it was to get the hell out of there. Angus rolled his eyes, For fuck’s sake.

The bathtub exploded and shards of white ceramic rained on Angus and the plumber.

Orfeo watched them turn to something in the room. He saw long red tentacles shoot out and wrap around the plumber, who struggled as they wrapped tighter. Angus’ voice turned high-pitched, What the fuck?

More tentacles wrapped themselves around Angus’ torso and head. He turned to Orfeo and they met eye to eye.

Orfeo watched Angus’ body turn pale, and then grey, as his skin sucked back tighter and tighter against his muscles and organs. Orfeo fumbled with the machete and grabbed it with his good hand.

Angus let out a long croak as the tentacles receded from both of them, disappearing back into the bathroom.

Orfeo cut himself loose and pushed the chair away. He stood up and removed the clip holding his jaw shut. With the machete outstretched, he stumbled toward the bathroom. Inside, there was a gaping hole in the floor.

Within the hole were lumps of flesh connected together, like a giant, intricate voice box Blood and mucus surrounded the flesh, exuded from its pores.

Orfeo dropped the machete. He stepped back and his elbow bumped against the hairspray on the sink, which fell next to the Angus’s emaciated corpse. He reached down and picked up the hairspray.

His fingers reached inside Angus’ vest and pulled out the lighter. He turned to the inhuman hole and flicked on the lighter. He aimed the hairspray behind it.

Flames shot out from the lighter and ignited the mucus on the monstrous form. A red tentacle shot out from one of the holes and snatched the hairspray away from Orfeo, who stumbled backwards.

Orfeo fell on the ground and covered himself with his arms. The tentacle crushed the can, which ignited in a fireball. The holes in the monster let out high-pitched squeals. Orfeo darted out of the room as the monster, and the roof, started to burn.

Something exploded in the opposite end of the apartment. It let out a nasal growl. Orfeo sprinted into closed door and barged it open. It was a bedroom. He slid open the closet door, stepped inside and slid it shut.

He heard the thing’s footsteps, walking down the hall. Through the thin slits of the closet door, he could make it out to be a reddish-purple humanoid. Its skin was covered in mucus and long red limbs trailed behind it.

The humanoid monster turned and saw the fire start to spread out of the bathroom. It stepped backward into the bedroom. Orfeo met its beady black eyes. A red hand, covered in blood, slammed against the closet door.

The door slid across. Orfeo looked across at the fire outside the doorway. Money couldn’t save him; he was doomed.

He reefed the door open and the monster, with its black eyes and lipless grin stepped back. He leaped out and wrapped his arms around it. Its long limbs pressed out against the floor and walls as it tried to balance itself.

Orfeo cried out, Let’s burn in hell together.

He took a large step and pulled the monster across the room. The hands at the ends of its limbs grabbed onto whatever they could as it was shunted. The hands gripped curtains, a clock and drawers and pulled them toward it as its back slammed against the wall next to the doorway.

It screeched and pulled a hand back, in the centre of the palm was a sharp proboscis that it slammed into Orfeo’s eye. Orfeo screamed and sunk his teeth into its face. He tasted raw flesh and bile. He gagged, but kept his teeth clenched.

Orfeo spun the monster to the side and pulled it out of the doorway. They both fell onto the flames. The monster screeched and flailed. Orfeo held on tight, even as he felt the flames burned his clothes against his flesh.

He closed his eyes and thought of his last girlfriend. He tried to make some sort of sense of his situation with her. He stayed up late last night and wrote up her a cheque to make her life comfortable.

It was something that he wrote one afternoon and left