Coping Mechanism and Other Disturbing Stories

By Stephanie Anne

Change is difficult for everyone. Especially when your traumas are awakened from deep within. The mundane becomes sinister. The everyday holds no hope. Your mother hates you. Your co-workers don't respect you. Your children won't stop screaming. How can you possibly silence the voices in your head when everything is going horribly wrong?

This third short story collection from Stephanie Anne is the darkest of the bunch, filled with twisted tales of monsters, meal times, and murder. So go ahead, read them if you're brave enough. But as you face your fears head on, checking light fixtures out of the corner of your eye to see if anything is out of place, ask yourself this very important question: How will you cope?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stephanie Anne
• Release date: Mar 18, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215011935

Stephanie Anne

Hello, readers! Thank you for stopping by. My name is Stephanie Anne and I am an oddball extraordinaire. My writing assistants include my cats Minerva, Finn, and Bubs. Unfortunately, they like to sleep on the job. I have a love for all things strange and monstrous and I hope you do to. If you like disturbing horror stories and unsettling tales of science-fiction, you've come to the right place.

Book preview

Introduction

Back for more, Dear Readers?

Or perhaps you’re new here. Either way, it doesn’t matter. You still won’t find any happy endings in these pages. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you’ve decided to pick up this book. But I feel it’s my duty to warn you about the horrors that lie ahead. There’s no hope for salvation in these tales of life, death, and the ways in which we struggle to cope with everything in between.

I just have one question for you, Readers. One very important question. As you flip through the pages, traumatizing yourself more than is necessary, facing fears you never knew you had, and looking deep into the darkness of the world around you . . .

How will you cope?

Happy Reading.

Love,

Stephanie Anne

Here I Come

O ne hundred, ninety -nine, ninety-eight . . .

There was a mad scramble. Like cockroaches skittering away when the lights are turned on, the children cleared the room. There wasn’t much time. And Sophie Anderson was counting faster than they were comfortable with.

Abigail Winslow paced around the basement, lost in her own house. Panicking stripped her of her intelligence, and she dove underneath the upturned laundry basket, which was covered in too many oval-shaped holes. It wasn’t until she watched a pair of feet disappear into a cabinet that she realized her error. Using the laundry basket for cover in case that no good Sophie Anderson was peeking, Abigail crawled across the cold concrete floor and slipped into the linen cupboard.

Jimmy Doeser stomped up the stairs until it occurred to him that everyone, including Sophie, could hear where he was going. Gripping the railing tightly, he used his arms to support the weight of his body as he hopped on the very tips of his shoes. The other children tore up the stairs at such speed that Jimmy barely knew what happened. But they were light on their feet.

While the McKenzie twins were settling in to their hiding spot under the kitchen table, and another body positioned itself behind the curtains in the living room, Mikey Jones was biting his nails.

What to do? What to do?

He managed to get upstairs and out of the basement, at least, but nowhere was far enough away from Sophie Anderson.

Fifty-five, fifty-four . . .

Her voice echoed up to the main floor, sending chills down his spine and butterflies into his stomach.

Oh, no.

With his fingers still in his mouth, Mikey dashed to the front hall closet. He pulled the door open and found only a wall of surprised faces instead of a hiding spot.

Close the door! a little voice hissed. Go away!

Mikey did what he was told and made his way to the living room. Tiptoeing across the broadloom carpet, he spotted a pair of hole-filled socks peeking out from under the curtains. Wiggling toes poked through the holes as they scrunched up and then flexed. Eyeing the surrounding furniture, Mikey didn’t think the sofa or the coffee table would offer much protection from Sophie’s gaze. He could try, but he didn’t have time to find out for sure.

Entering the kitchen, his feet barely touched the tiled floor before Tommy and Tina McKenzie’s hands shot out from under the table and waved him away. Their parents didn’t want him coming over to their house to play, so why should they let him hide with them?

He slid back out into the hall where he heard Sophie clomping up the basement stairs. Mikey ran into the dining room and found Jimmy Doeser hiding behind a combination of the curtains and a decorative lamp.

Can I hide with you? he whispered as he crouched down to sneak under the curtain. A swift kick to his shoulder put a stop to that.

Get lost, you wet rag! Be a man and go hide on your own.

But I—

I don’t want to be caught hiding with a sissy like you, Jimmy spat.

But everywhere else is taken, and Sophie’s coming.

That’s your problem, not mine.

Mikey took the hint.

When his Mama told him that Mr. and Mrs. Winslow invited all of the neighbourhood kids over for a playdate with Abigail, Mikey had been overjoyed. None of the other kids even wanted to play with him, although he never understood why. Every time he asked about it, they always gave some muttered excuse that their parents didn’t want him around. But the Winslows had insisted on inviting every single child, no matter how outcast. Mikey thought this playdate would be his chance to finally make some friends, but so far that wasn’t happening, and he was still scrambling to find a hiding spot.

The only rooms left in the house were Abigail’s and her parents’. But all of the children had received strict instructions from Abigail herself not to go in either one of those rooms. Mikey was fully prepared to play by those rules until he heard Sophie Anderson shriek with delight when she found the twins in the kitchen.

You cheated! said Tommy.

Did not, said Sophie.

It’s not fair, said Tina.

Is too, said Sophie.

With his heart in his throat, Mikey opened the door to Abigail’s room but quickly closed it when he saw all of the pink, icky, girly things. Boys weren’t ever supposed to touch those sorts of things, not even in a desperate moment like this. Hiding in there was a fate much worse than being found by Sophie Anderson. They already teased him enough at school.

There was only one room left and not a second to waste.

Mr. and Mrs. Winslow’s room was not at all what Mikey was expecting. He was pretty sure he had seen all of the bedrooms of all of the other parents on his street during those birthday parties he was begrudgingly invited to, but this was the first time encountering anything like this. Not even his mother’s home magazines showed anything that would even come close. Compared to the pastel pinks and greens that coloured the bedrooms of other houses, the dark red on the walls was alarming. Mikey had never seen red walls before.

But he didn’t have time to process the shock.