Horror Night

By Matthew McCain

29 stories.

2 Novellas.

1 terrifying book.

Forget Halloween, Welcome to Horror Night!

The place where all your darkest childish fears reside in one convenient place.

From something lurking below the bathtub drain to the boogeyman known only as Mr. Creep, Horror Night will keep you up late into the night while reminding you that not all childish fears go away.


Featuring: Billy Morrison, Mark Vega, James Johnson, Coki Greenway, Tracy Allaire, Joe Therasakdhi with Lucas Murnaghan also Joshua Duke and Billy Dee Williams

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 27, 2021
• ISBN: 9781664170209

Matthew McCain

Matthew McCain is the author of a dozen books including The Hunting, Scribbles: A Drug Story and Just Under Nine. He lives in Hooksett, NH.

Book preview

Copyright © 2021 by Matthew McCain.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted

in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying,

recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system,

without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the

product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance

to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 04/27/2021

Xlibris

844-714-8691

www.Xlibris.com

780404

To:

Jorge Castillo

For a night that was

anything but a horror night

Contents

Crawling

Horror Night

Thing In The Basement

The Squirms

Teeth

The Drain

Mr. Creep

The Subway Station

Monsters

The Bad Man

Lila

The Last Night Shift

Cutting

The Ringing Phone

The Stranger

Christmas Mourning

Bones In The Walls

Finger Paint

The Manuscript

Bury Me Deep

Men Of Shadows

Don’t Turn Around

Grandpa’s Srrapbook

Helen And Henry’s Garden

The Interrogation

Day 22

The Abyss

From Behind

Man Of Midnight

The Zombie Squad

1: The Hospital

2: The Elevator

3: The Lobby

4: The Entrance

5: The Streets

6: The Concert

7: The End

Darkness Falls

Acknowledgment

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Crawling

An impenetrable layer of fog engulfed the long countryside road—the layer so thick that Deborah Peacock couldn’t see more than five feet in front of her from the pavement level perspective she had. Her body ached in pain, but she continued crawling down the road, trying to get away.

Blood frightfully covered her middle-aged face along with a terrible pain that encaptivated her back, bringing her to almost tears as she crawled. Still, she kept on, hoping to find help. The inattentive mother of four was many things, but on that decisive summer night on that rural road, she was a tough as nails survivor—the only one.

The road was dark with nothing more than a few street lights sporadically spread out to guide her along the empty stretch of freshly tarred pavement. By the time she reached the half-hour mark of crawling, thoughts of stopping to catch her breath had developed but never came to fruition. All she wanted to do was get as far away from the campsite as she could.

Along with the extensive wounds throughout her body, thoughts of witnessing her boyfriend Scott being savagely slain also brought Deborah to tears. While she’d been in many relationships over her lifetime, the one with Scott stood out, almost to the point where she was willing to settle down and enter the final stages of her life.

Now that those ideas were no longer possible, she felt lost as the chill of the night sent shivers down her body. But, thoughts of Scott weren’t the only thing on her mind. Thoughts of her attacker also peered in and out as she crawled.

She was sure the random attacker—who had stalked them for days on end—was dead, but that didn’t really make her feel better. She was still alone on a remote countryside road, and the idea of another attacker looming somewhere in the nearby woods couldn’t be ruled out, either.

But, despite her questionable reputation, she did have incredible strength—she proved it by killing her attacker with an ax, but she wasn’t immortal by any means. Just like everyone else, she had a breaking point, and she reached it moments after using the ax.

The marks across her cheeks burned with excruciating pain. She did everything she could to overlook the hurt she felt, but nothing was able to keep her mind at ease. She was severely injured and needed help, or else she would bleed to death from the unseen wounds that riddled her legs and back—a light appeared in front of her. She stopped moving.

Deborah blinked, making sure it wasn’t some type of hallucination from blood loss. At first, the light was so dim, she assumed it was nothing more than another street light off in the distance. A couple of seconds later, she realized it was a car.

Oh, thank God! she shouted as she frantically waved her hand in the air. Help me! Help me!

The car didn’t slow down.

In fact, it seemed to gain speed, if anything.

Stop! Please!

Knowing full well this might be her only chance of rescue, Deborah rolled onto her back in an attempt to get on her feet. Pain ripped through her body as all her weight fell onto her back, forcing her to let out a scream.

The car sped closer.

Her heart started to pound, but she pressed her hands on the cold asphalt and began lifting herself up.

The car got closer as the HID bulbs cut through the fog with exceptional precision.

She pushed herself off the ground as her sobs turned to cries of anguish and desperation. The more weight she applied to her wounded foot, the more she slowed down. The crippling pain from the marks on her face were minor compared to the severe burning coming from the lower half of her right leg and foot—

The car passed the last streetlight and closed in on her position.

She placed all her body weight onto both feet and stood up. Red veins filled her eyes as screams inundated the back of her throat. And once she balanced herself, she swung her hands up.

Hey! Stop! Stop!

The car didn’t slow down.

She stepped into the middle of the street, waving both hands up and down with all her might. Stop, please! Please!

The headlights lit up her face in a ghostly white fashion. She began jumping up and down, ignoring the pain coming from her heels. Stop! Please! Sto—

The car slammed into her, killing her instantly, and forcing the driver to jam on the breaks and bring the vehicle to a screeching stop. Her body rolled off the mangled hood of the late model sedan and landed on the pavement with a loud thud.

The driver put the car in park and got out quickly, unsure of what he hit due to the fog and broken headlight from the impact. The remaining headlight continued shining through the mist, lighting up much of the pavement in front of the vehicle and allowing the driver to see what he hit.

The driver dropped to his knees as numbness overcame him.

Mom…? Mom!

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Horror Night

Rain tapping on the window outside

Strange noises coming from somewhere inside

The time has come to find a place to hide

Thunder rocks the sky

Shadows fill your eyes

As tears turn to cries

The power is out

Leaving you without

And now you get to find out what tonight is all about

The wind starts howling

You start cowering

As the monster in the basement starts devouring

The stairs creak

Something latches onto your feet

And pulls you into the darkness beneath

Screaming from fright

Unable to fight

Welcome to Horror Night

Trapped in the car

Waiting for a call

Darkness engulfs it all

Under the moon

Trees loom

Of impending doom

As something lurks out in the gloom

Noises off in the distance

Are clear and persistent

Despite telling yourself, they’re nonexistent

But deep in your mind

You can’t seem to unwind

Because unlike the rest

You don’t know what’s coming next

Pushing deeper into the night

Blood appears black under the pale moonlight

With no help in sight

On this unwelcoming horror night

Little critters, dark figures, silent whispers

Bodies shivering, skin blistering, lights flickering

The dead rise

Masks create a clever disguise

With a shocking end surprise

Coffins lift

Reality shifts

Nails are bit

All fears are freed

And will force you to believe

As the walls begin to bleed

Lying under the moonlight

With no help in sight

Prepare for one hell of a fright

Because this is Horror Night

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Thing In The Basement

After eating up another bowl of cereal, ten-year-old Chaz Christopher placed it into the kitchen sink and headed back to the long sectional couch in the living room, resting in front of the large flat screen T.V. on the opposite side of the room. With the T.V. at nearly full blast, the entire room (and surrounding rooms of the house) were filled with noise, accompanied by every light on in the place, giving the shadows no safe haven despite how dark it was outside.

With his mother Karen working late at the hospital and his father living somewhere in rural West Virginia, Chaz was forced to fend for himself since Karen was only making enough to keep a roof over their heads. A part of her felt guilty for leaving him alone at such a young age, but because of how close the hospital was to the house, she found reassurance on those nights she needed to work.

Chaz—on the other hand—felt the exact opposite.

He knew it was only a matter of time before he started spending the evenings by himself, and when the time came, he couldn’t have been happier. The idea of watching T.V. and eating whatever he wanted thrilled him beyond comprehension.

Don’t worry about me, he said to Karen the first time he spent the evening alone. I’ll be fine.

Before she left, Karen made sure the house was in order. Room by room, she went, making sure she didn’t miss anything. She checked all the windows, all the doors, and everything in between. She even spent nearly double at the grocery store to make sure the fridge was stock full. By the time she was done fitting everything in, the refrigerator door barely closed.

When she finished getting cleaned up for work, she got misty-eyed from the thought of leaving but knew she had no choice. It was either work nights or get an apartment in the city. It would’ve been over four hundred dollars cheaper, but the quality of schooling greatly diminished, and she refused to compromise on that.

The sun had nearly set by the time she headed off to work.

If you need anything, just call me. I’ll be fifteen minutes away, Karen said, hoping to reassure Chaz (along with herself).

They hugged and parted ways. Chaz kept a smile on his face as he waved goodbye from the living room windows. Forcing herself to keep smiling, Karen waved until both Chaz, and the house were out of sight.

Once Karen drove off, a grin of excitement rushed over the young boy.

The first thing he did was turn on the T.V.

Followed by his first ransack of the refrigerator.

By the time he finished a bunch of snacks and the monstrous bowl of cereal, his stomach was as hard as a rock; he couldn’t fit anything else in it even if his life depended on it. Oh…I ate WAY too much, WAY too fast!

He sat down on the couch and sprawled out, hoping it would help digest some of the food he just inhaled. It took a bit, but a few burps managed to reach the surface and slowly started to get things moving in the right direction.

With the feeling of fullness keeping him company, Chaz took a glance at the clock on the other side of the room. It was late. But, not as late as he thought it would be. Wow, it feels like it should be later. That, or I’m just wicked tired today.

While the night felt like it was lagging a bit, Chaz was tired. He had a long day, and with it only being Thursday, the idea of having to sit through another day of school didn’t rest well with him. In his mind, the whole week had been dragging. But, it wasn’t just how long the week had been; it was more about him being by himself.

Being the caring and noble child he was, Chaz hid his true feelings about staying home by himself. The truth was he dreaded Thursday nights. Sure, he enjoyed the food, staying up late and watching T.V. on full volume, but it got tiring after a few hours. Eventually, the hype dispersed, the sugar high came to an end and left behind a young boy who felt isolated. And alone.

Because he was still on the younger side, his Mom insisted that he be in bed no later than 9:30. But, even with him promising he’d be in bed around that time, the temptation to stay up longer was impossible to ignore. He ended up watching T.V. until all the cartoons were over and replays of old sitcoms took over the airways. When he finally looked at the time, he leaped out of the couch. Oh, crap! I gotta get to bed soon! Mom could be on her way home for all I know; she’s come home around this time before. Oh, she’ll kill me if she sees I’m still up!

He grabbed the clicker for the T.V. and lowered the volume to a more reasonable level. Then, once he straightened the pillows and fluffed the cushions to the couch, he headed to his bedroom at the end of the hall.

While the kitchen and living room were vibrant with white neon light from the lamps, the long narrow hallway was drenched in gloom. Darkness overwhelmed it, leaving everything to the imagination. But, despite the slightly spooky sight, Chaz wasn’t afraid of the dark—or at least not that scared of it. He could sleep in it just fine, and when he got up in the middle of the night, he didn’t worry about having to turn a light on to keep his imagination at bay. The divorce and being home alone nearly robbed him of what childhood he had left, and he was at the age where his fears could go either way.

With the exception of one: the basement.

The darkness outside and in the hallway didn’t faze him, but the darkness that draped behind the basement door absolutely horrified him.

He couldn’t place his finger on it, but there was just something about the basement that left him uneasy. Nothing had ever happened to him down there, and he never heard any strange noises, aside from the furnace kicking on. But, he still had this morbid sense of fear every time he thought about it.

For years, he’s known about the boogeyman, and other childish myths passed down from one generation to another—he learned about those in school. They didn’t bother him (except for the boogeymen. He ended up checking his closest for weeks after that story). But, when it came to the basement, he didn’t think the boogeyman was down there.

He believed something else was down there.

Something worse. Much worse.

Something that would put the boogeyman to shame. Something so horrendous and evil, words could not describe it. The name boogeyman didn’t fit either because what he saw in his imagination was no man—far from it. It was some type of creature. And, of course, the only way Chaz could get to his bedroom was to walk past the door leading down to the terrible darkness that filled the basement. He took in a deep breath and entered the hall, staying on guard.

He proceeded to walk down, doing what he could to keep the thoughts of whatever was down there far away. Still, his speed drastically reduced when the outline of the door came into view. Eventually, he came to a standstill as he neared it.

The darkness in the hall towered over the doorframe, making it difficult to see, but because he lived in the house for so long, Chaz knew precisely where it was. From inside his chest, his heart started to beat a little quicker, signifying the fear that persisted.

Thoughts of his mother eventually made their way in, particularly thoughts about her crying in his arms after losing her job at the bank a few months back. Her sniffles and words replayed in his mind like a memory he couldn’t shake.

I’m so sorry you have to go through this. I’m sorry you have to be the man of the house; you shouldn’t have to be. The emotions in his mother’s words were deafening and arguably ended Chaz’s childhood at such a young age. The responsibilities of being the man of the house were the finishing touches, too.

But, the memories brought him back to reality and shifted his mindset. Before he knew it, the fear he had of the basement seemed to fade just as the memory of his father had. He kept his focus on the door, and the look of horror was now a look of confidence.

I’m the man of the house—this is my house! There’s nothing in the basement for me to be afraid of. I’m a man! Nothing is supposed to scare me!

Chaz held his shoulders high, continued on into the hallway, and started for his bedroom. With each step, the look of determination expanded until he felt comfortable enough to take his eyes off the basement entrance and focus on his bedroom door at the end of the hall.

And as he approached the entrance to his room, he marched on steadily, like the man of the house he—the basement door flung open and two large hairy paws latched onto either side of the boy.

Chaz screamed into the empty, isolated house as razor-sharp claws took hold of him. A childish scream bellowed out from deep within him before being pulled into the darkness of the cellar at lightning speed, with the basement door slamming shut and a trail of blood following close behind.

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The Squirms

For as long as she could remember, nine-year-old Faith Argondizza had been afraid of bugs. Every time she found one on her, she would scream until it was either gone or out of sight. So when she had a dream about being covered with small insects, she screamed at the top of her lungs when she woke up.

Her body shivered as her hands ran up and down her arms, checking to feel if anything was out of the ordinary. To her delight, she felt nothing more than the soft material of her pajamas. But, her fear of falling back asleep just to get sucked back into the nightmare she emerged from remained, forcing her to roll over and press the button on top of her princess clock resting beside the bed.

The clock read 1:00 am.

The sight depressed her.

She had woken up from nightmares many times throughout her childhood. Over time, she eventually learned that the longer you stay up, the harder it is to fall back into the dream world you had been in. Granted, it didn’t always work, but for the most part, it was enough to get Faith through the rest of the night.

Okay…just think about princesses, as Mommy said. Or think about Daddy and how big and strong he is.