Fire: Elements of Horror, #3

By P.J. Blakey-Novis

Elements of Horror Book Three: Fire, is the third in a series of four horror anthologies based on the Elements. Within these pages you will find a variety of stories from some of the best independent horror writers on the scene today. Feel the heat in tales of fire spirits, evil possessions, psychotic murderers, and much more.
 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Red Cape Publishing
• Release date: May 24, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201268336

Book preview

ELEMENTS OF HORROR:

Book Three

FIRE

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author's imagination and are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2019 Red Cape Publishing

All rights reserved.

Cover Design by Red Cape Graphic Design

Www.redcapepublishing.com/red-cape-graphic-design

Foreword

Welcome to Book Three: Fire, the third in a series of four anthologies based on the Elements. Feel the heat in tales of fire spirits, evil possessions, psychotic murderers, and much more. We hope you enjoy the disturbingly spine-chilling tales, and that you will go on to read more by the authors involved in this book. Keep an eye out for book four, due for release in December 2019.

Coming soon

Book Four: Water

Scorched

Scott Donnelly

My father died, Josh said as he looked up from the black words that gawked at him from the unfolded paper he held in his hands. The envelope sitting on his desk was from his late father’s estate; he’d inherited his father’s home.

I’m sorry, Josh, Kenna whispered sensitively.

Kenna was the endless bright light in Josh’s life. He’d known her for almost two full decades, and not only did they share a profound love for one another, but she also kept him sane. She leaned in and kissed his neck tenderly.

It’s ok, Josh said delicately. He folded the letter back up and slid it into the envelope. He pushed it aside and stared at his computer. I haven’t seen him in twenty years. After my mother died, he wasn’t himself. He couldn’t take care of us. He left...

Childhood memories began to saturate Josh’s mind. He zoned out and pictured images of his mother losing her battle to cancer right before his eyes. He pictured his father drinking, hitting him, shouting, and bleeding from his hands. Kenna snapped him out of the horrific daydream by massaging his shoulders. He closed his eyes and smiled. That feels good.

Where’s his house? she quietly asked. The one you inherited. That’s where Josh was confused. He grew up in Florida; his father loathed the cold weather with a passion. It made his skin hurt, he’d always say. Montana.

It’s cold in Montana, Kenna smirked.

Yup.

***

That night, the clock radio next to the bed switched over to 1am. Josh couldn’t sleep. He was wide awake, lying next to Kenna. She hadn’t made a noise in hours, so he was certain she was asleep. At least one mind was at ease.

He grabbed his phone from the nightstand and searched for any information he could on Charles Peet in Montana. Aside from the address listed in the estate letter, there was nothing else about his father on the Internet. It was almost like he had gone off the grid on the other side of the country after his wife had died so horribly. Maybe he left so I didn’t have to watch him spiral into his drunken madness? Maybe he really didn’t want to hurt me, and leaving was all he could think of to protect me? But Montana? Why so far away? Josh thought to himself.

Can’t sleep? Kenna asked in a gravelly voice, seemingly awaking out of nowhere.

No. Josh thought for a moment. He left twenty years ago. I wonder how he lived. He rolled onto his side and looked Kenna in her drowsy eyes. Will you come to Montana with me?

She smiled. Obviously. He smiled back as Kenna cradled him closer to her.

***

When the sun on Saturday morning crawled out from over the Atlantic, Josh and Kenna were already on a plane. They had a layover in Columbus, Ohio, and then it was a straight shot to Helena, Montana. From beaches, boardwalks, and gator-filled swamps, to vast wilderness, tall trees, sparkling lakes, and dense forests - it was quite the transition.

Josh and Kenna took a cab from Helena to a dirt road several miles away that went deep into the forest.

Excuse me, Josh said to the driver. Is this the right way?

You said Hart-Tell Road, right? the middle-aged cab driver asked, exhaling the smoke from his cigarette.

Yes, sir.

The driver smiled in the rearview mirror at Josh. Then yes, this is the right way.

They drove for a good twenty minutes, passing valley after valley, overgrown forests, mountains on the horizon that seemed to not move at all, and then Josh questioned the driver once again. Are we close?

At that very moment, the driver stopped the cab, kicking up dirt that swirled around the car. Josh and Kenna looked out the window and saw an old, rusted mailbox hanging off a bent pole at an odd angle. A dirt pathway next to it slithered back into the trees where it disappeared. The name on the box had washed out over time, but it was there: Charles Peet.

You have the number for the cab company, right? the driver asked. Josh pulled out a slip of paper where he’d scribbled it down. It was sloppy, but he could still make it out. Yes.

Give us an hour from the time you call to get here. Your father didn’t live in the most easily accessible place, the driver continued.

Will do. Thank you, Josh said, handing the man a rather generous tip. As the cab turned around and drove away, Josh and Kenna looked past the mailbox, and down the dirt pathway that curved around behind a thick cluster of pine trees. It was so dark that the woods appeared black.

***

Josh and Kenna walked the path slowly, keeping an eye out for bears. Several signs on their drive to the property indicated the dangers of bears in the area. The woods were serene and mostly silent. The sounds of buzzing bugs and isolated bird chirps surrounded them, although it was nothing they could see. The wildlife hid tactically in the dimness of their home.

They came around another bend and into a small clearing where Charles’ house was. It was a peculiar sight--the house was small, neatly tucked back into a part of the forest that seemed to be off that map, so to speak. It was made of logs with a brick chimney. It was smaller than a cabin, but significantly larger than a shack. Moss had overrun all sides of the chimney and covered most of the roof. The front door, which sat at the top of three, crudely built steps, was open slightly.

On the opposite side of the dwelling from where the chimney was, sat an old car covered in dirt and grime and sporting numerous cracks and chips in the windows. The tires were all flat, and the license plates had been removed. Next to the car, a gray wolf stood incredibly still, watching the new strangers on the property. Kenna saw it first and put her arm up to stop Josh. They watched the animal, which was watching them. Josh stared into its eyes, and his heart rate picked up. He’d never been in the presence of an animal like this before.

A sound from the forest grabbed the wolf’s attention--probably helpless prey of some kind--and it sprinted off and vanished into the shrubbery. Josh and Kenna sighed in relief and nervously laughed in sync with each other. Kenna gestured to the old house, Shall we?

After you, Josh said, letting his girlfriend approach the home first. Since the door was open, they were immediately on guard for any possible animals that may have wandered inside. The daylight that wasn’t blocked by the canopy of trees outside lit up the inside of the cabin through its dirty windows. Kenna entered the house first, and the smell immediately overwhelmed her.

Smells like fire. Do you smell that? Like, burning wood.

Josh sniffed the air as he entered and agreed with Kenna’s theory. It smelled like the remains of an old campfire. There was also a hint of burnt hair, but he didn’t dwell on that for long--it was an old cabin. However, looking around the interior, a fire clearly didn’t seem all that possible. The olive-green carpet was clean—very little dust was noticeable. The bookshelf against the wall appeared well organized, and knit blankets were neatly folded on the couch and chair respectively.

Josh continued to wander the one-roomed home. A bed and nightstand were in the far corner. A half bath was next to it, separated only by a stained, torn curtain hanging from loose hinges in the ceiling. A gas stove sat across the room next to a clean fireplace with no sign of a recent fire. A small, circular kitchen table stood next to it. Only one chair was pushed neatly under the table. Josh was confused.

This isn’t my father, he inaudibly said to himself, knowing that the condition of his house was the exact opposite of what the man was like twenty years earlier. He then went to the kitchen area and opened all three of the wall-mounted cabinets. There were cans of vegetables, but no liquor or scotch. He then opened the small refrigerator next to the stove - no beer, no wine. There’s no alcohol here, he said.

Kenna knew a lot about Charles. She’d met Josh not long after his mother died, so she was there to lend an ear, and take the verbal beatings that were intended for his father. She knew this didn’t look like a place that kind of man would live in.

She looked around and saw a light switch on the wall. She flipped it, but nothing turned on. She looked around and noticed there wasn’t a single lamp, or any light for that matter, in the entire place.

That’s weird, she said. Why aren’t there lights in here?

Josh shrugged. The light from outside then started to fade and the house became a little darker. He went to the window and watched as the trees started to blow heavily, twisting branches and sending leaves spiraling into the air. He looked up, and through the small cracks in the canopy, saw dark clouds rushing across the sky vigorously. We’re going to get a nasty storm.

At least we don’t have to worry about the electricity going out, Kenna joked. Josh chuckled, but more just to please her. He felt uncomfortable at his father’s house. Twenty years had passed. He didn’t know this man--not the one who had lived here, anyway.

We’d better find some candles.

They were able to scrounge up a handful of half-melted candles, and Josh also found an oil lamp in one of the cabinets, along with a shelf full of matches. They lit each candle and sporadically placed them around the house. They sat the oil lamp down on the handcrafted wooden coffee table and sat next to one another on the couch.

No TV, Kenna said. No radio, very little food, a clean house, a neatly organized bookshelf, and a boatload of matches. Does this seem like your father?

Josh shook his head. Not the one I knew. But who knows what twenty years, isolated in the middle of the forest, could do to a man.

The rain pounded the top of the house, threatening each moment with the possibility of it collapsing. Thunder shook heavily outside, and sharp flashes of lightning lit the house up for split seconds at a time. Josh looked at his phone and saw it was just past 8pm. He then noticed the 53 percent charge.       Christ, he said.

What is it?

We’re not going to be able to charge our phones - no electricity.

Kenna slid hers out of her pocket. It was roughly half charged as well.

We need to use them sparingly. I’ll call the cab first thing in the morning before my dies. I don’t want this house. I don’t want anything to do with it.

You’re not even going to go through his stuff? Maybe there are some things here you’d want to remember your father by.

I don’t want to remember him. I don’t want any of this stuff. He was a violent man, and he left. He left me alone, with no one. He didn’t care about me at all. He wouldn’t want me to have his stuff either.

You weren’t alone, Josh, Kenna said, inching closer to him on the couch. You were never alone. She put her hand on his leg and he exhaled. He put you on the Will for a reason, right? Josh didn’t answer. Kenna picked up the oil lamp by the handle and stood up. "Take the books at least.