Shriller's Dump

By G. Laredem

A woman who fears she is haunted by the grim reaper, a depraved illusionist who has a thing for female body parts, a single man's descent into madness followed by an entire line of people losing their grip on reality; Don't let misdirections deceive you, these five short stories are psychologically thrilling and disturbingly entertaining.

Enter a world of madness, monsters, and murder. Enter the junkyard at Shriller's Dump.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Grace Mederal
• Release date: Aug 5, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201371937

G. Laredem

G. Laredem is a writer, a reader, a philosopher, and a mom. She lives happily with her family, rabbits, dog, and fish, and she has a deep love for the ocean. Shriller's Dump is the first of many books to come; with trunkloads of old notebooks since childhood, Laredem has been writing for as long as she can remember. Her goal is to create the connection that is only held between the reader, the author, and their imagination. Books are a safe place, a beautiful escape, and a necessity to a wonderful life.

Book preview

Misdirection

S top! Put your hands up!

The words echoed off the alleyway’s brick enclosures, leading Erin to believe that the police officer was holding a megaphone.

Tearing around the corner, there was no time to think of where to turn next, his mind running as fast as his feet hit the pavement. Seeing an abandoned food cart propped up against the side of a rustic building near the next stop sign, Erin made a decision that he believed would be his saving grace, but ended up being his death warrant.

. . .

Shawn! Mom said to stop playing the stupid video games and come downstairs and eat dinner!

Bethany’s voice bellowed beneath Shawn’s headphones, and upon pulling them up and off of his ears, he caught his mother’s voice reprimanding his sister for sneaking the word stupid into her initial command.

He paused the computer and stood up, letting his stiff legs find balance before teetering towards the door. The hallway light shone brightly through his keyhole, and Shawn braced his vision by squinting his eyes as he slowly turned the knob and pulled the door toward him.

The warm air caressed his face as the smell of freshly baked biscuits engulfed his nostrils, sending his taste buds into a frenzy and invoking salivation. A smile crept onto his face as he simultaneously licked his lips and wiped the back of his right arm against his chin.

Making his way to the top of the stairs, Shawn braces himself for the descent. Right hand gripping the railing, body leaning back before his feet begin to move, balancing his excess weight against gravity to avoid yet another trip and slip to tumble forward and break the banister on his way down. No, not this time.

Slow and easy steps, shifting his weight from one knee to the other, oblivious to just how much strain they each are under every time he moves around the house.

Reaching the bottom of the staircase, Shawn grins and pats his big, fat belly, watching the steam radiate from the dining room table that is now in view. Stopping to catch his breath, something he has to do now more often than not, he hears whispers floating out of the parlor.

Despite the excessive layers of fat surrounding all of his vital organs and engulfing his features, his sense of hearing remained unaffected, superb even.

..his favorite, you know he will eat it first. His mother’s voice.

But what if he doesn’t eat enough? His sister's voice, sarcastic and followed by mocking laughter.

There was more rustling of utensils and clanging of plates and, of course, heavy breathing as Shawn still struggled to catch his breath. He leaned over to the left a little more, straining to hear another word when-SNAP- the banister wood gave way.

Shawn desperately tried to regain his center and pull the railing upright again, but it was too late. The entire staircase shook as an enormous human toppled over the side, impaling the major artery in his right thigh on the sharp shank of wood that his body had snapped in two just moments before.

Crying out in pain, Shawn covers his face with his arms as more wood continues to topple over. It seemed he had loosened the entire staircase with ease.

Amidst the clamor and uproar that now filled the house, familiar voices flooded the air.

Well, I guess we can throw away the stuffed shells. giggled Bethany, a certain twang in her voice that wasn’t there before.

The shells were much cheaper than the staircase. His mother coldly replies, stepping over the rubble to get closer to Shawn.

He pulls his arms back above his head and is greeted by the sight of his mother’s face lingering over him, seeming to study the wound on his leg. Then she picked up the other piece of banister that was not attached to the staircase anymore, and shoved it, sharp side first, into the gaping hole in his thigh.

Shawn awoke to the scent of fresh air, dry leaves, and dirt. Still in a dream state, unsure of the normalcy to question his present reality, he took a deep breath in through his nose and smiled, relishing in the smells of Autumn that he hadn’t smelled in so long.

He opened his eyes and rejoiced at the sight of swaying branches above him, the gentle wind blowing the crunchy leaves right off of their birthplace, sending them swirling through the air, dancing down towards the ground, on and around him.

He reached his arms out beside him and felt the cool earth on his palms, gripping the cold grass in his fingers, feeling a sense of peace that only comes from the earth. A