13: A Baker’s Dozen of Suspense and Horror Tales

By David Six

Here are thirteen short stories of horror and suspense to make you feel you are not alone in the room--even when you think you are.

A simple man falls victim to paranoia.

A teenage girl wants what she wants--no matter what.

Three different--but equally deadly--compulsive murderers.

Two marriages that take chilling turns.

A haunted house with a twisted ending.

A man at the end of his career, and his eerily lifelike ventriloquist dummy.

And more. Thirteen shorts in all.

Make sure the lights are on.

• Language: English
• Publisher: David Six
• Release date: Nov 26, 2017
• ISBN: 9781386279778

Book preview

Introduction

I’ve written on my website of language playgounds: the marvel of sitting at the keyboard and discovering where a story will take me. Like recess when we were kids—in the days when there still was recess—I don’t know if I’ll win at kickball, or get smacked in the face by that red rubber sphere.

And the only way to find out is to kick the damn ball.

Writing a story is a lot easier on the face than kickball, but the end result for the reader will be—I hope—as visceral and satisfying to the spirit as feeling your foot contact that soft ball square and rocketing it towards your opponents. To that end, I hope the short stories contained herein give you the emotional equivalent of a good, solid punt. (Or a smack in the face, if you like that sort of thing.)

The lead-off story, Everywhere I Go, examines the question of how much paranoia is enough; sometimes a little goes a long way. Next up is a trio of short-shorts that take us inside the minds of three very different—but equally deadly—compulsive repeat murderers. Then, in The Wrong Man, we find that blackmail is a nasty business, so you better be sure you know what you’re doing, and with whom you are doing it.

Ever wonder just how far a salesman at a mobile phone store will go to get their commission? Find out in Sell Phone. Next, Elsie-Bellsie peers in at a father’s grief in the aftermath of an unthinkable tragedy.

The Best Fall Ever and What You Think You Know take a look at two married couples who are as different as day and night—if the night was filled with boils and a plague of locusts.

It’s said children are our future, but the girl in I Love Him may make you rethink that. And if you have a teenager, it may also make you sleep with one eye open.

Some of us might long to live in nice, upscale neighborhoods, on quiet cul-de-sacs, where everyone gets together on the weekends for beers and barbeque. Be careful what you wish for, in Laugh Dance.

Enjoy a good old-fashioned haunted house story? Then you’ll like Moan.

And finally, a little story about a man at the end of his career, and his dummy. The carved wooden kind, I mean, not a politician. That’s Corky’s Shadow.

I’d love to hear from you, so feel free to come by any of the various social media venues where you will find me, and tell me how you liked this collection of short fiction (the links are at the end of the book).

David Six

February, 2017

Everywhere I Go

Everywhere I go, I see them. I can’t get away from them.

Last night when I was bathing Mama in her tub, she said Go close the curtains, son, I’m in my altogether. So I went to the bathroom window and got hold of the curtains, and I saw them again, down in the street below our apartment, looking up at me.

Why won’t they leave me alone?

I’m not anybody. I work at a little shipping place for UPS and FedEx and DHL. I put foam peanuts in boxes and tape them up. I print labels and send faxes for people.

What do they want with me?

Mama wanted to try fancy coffee the other day for her once-a-week treat, so I went to the Starbuck’s on the corner. Not the north corner; the south one across the street. Lots of people out walking because it was a nice afternoon, humidity down below swimming-through-the-air levels. The asphalt from the street was radiating off the low sun like the radiator in our apartment does in the winter. I’m skinny, so the heat doesn’t bother me as much as it does Mama, and the hot street felt kind of good. I was getting nice and relaxed, not thinking about anything but getting Mama’s coffee.

And I saw them. Again.

They came in behind me in the line for coffee orders. They were looking at me. I turned forward again, but I could feel their eyes burning into my back hotter than the asphalt on the street outside. I can tell you, soon as the Starbuck’s girl called my name at the counter I grabbed the cup and hustled out of there. I looked over my shoulder the whole way home. I never saw them, and by the time I got home I finally relaxed.

But later that night, Mama reminded me I’d forgotten to fetch her mail out of the little brass box down in the lobby, so I went down to get it.

And there they were, in our lobby, looking at all the names on the little brass mailboxes.

Thank stars they didn’t see me! I caught sight of them just as I hit the last step into the lobby—I don’t like the elevator—and jerked back. I lost my balance and fell on my hinder on the steps and hurt my tailbone, but I hardly noticed, since I was peeking around the corner at them. They were muttering to each other and looking at all the boxes, like they were trying to find somebody.

Me.

What did I do to them? Or to the people they work for?

I’m scared. I think they’re going to do something to me. I haven’t been able to sleep for days now. I got dark splotches under my eyes, and even my boss—who hardly ever looks at me except to tell me do this, do that—asked me if I was sick or something.

My heart races all the time now. I looked it up on the internet on our old Dell—they call it fight or flight. They said if it goes on too long without stopping, you can get really sick.

I already feel really sick. Last night after I saw them looking up at me from the street, I had to ask Mama in the tub to turn her head while I crumpled to the floor and upchucked in our only toilet. She said What’s wrong with you, son? Not my food, is it? No, Mama, I told her. I love your food.

After I puked I felt better, and finished giving Mama her bath. But I only felt better a little while, because when I went to bed the room started spinning and my belly heaved. I barely made it to the toilet that time.