Beautiful Tragedy

By Helle Gade, Boris Bacic and Victoria Larque

Not all love stories have a happy ending...

Get ready to lose yourself in this collection of tragic stories from our authors that will fill your heart and tear it out at the same time. Sometimes a happy ending is not possible despite our best hopes, and things end in a way we never anticipated. Prepare to have your heart s

• Language: English
• Publisher: Butterdragons Publishing
• Release date: Jan 24, 2022
• ISBN: 9789493229716

Book preview

Featuring poems by Helle Gade

and stories by Boris Bacic,

Victoria Larque, Ada Rossi,

Anne Samara, K.R. Fajardo,

and Annelie Janssen

Title: Beautiful Tragedy: A Halloween Anthology, 2nd Ed

Series: BDP Anthologies

Authors: Helle Gade, Boris Bacic, Victoria Larque, Ada Rossi, K.R. Fajardo, Annelie Janssen, Anne Samara

Copyright © 2022 Butterdragons Publishing

All Rights Reserved

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This includes, stored in any retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means – electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording, or otherwise.

Published by Butterdragons Publishing

https://butterdragons.com

ISBN: 9789493229716 (ebook)

ISBN: 9789493229723 (paperback)

ISBN: 9789493229730 (audio book)

Cover Design by: Dazed Designs

Audio book narrated by MJ Webb and Joshua Schubart

About Helle Gade

Helle Gade lives in Denmark with her little diva dog. She is a book blogger, poet, photographer, nocturnal creature, avid reader and chocolate addict. She has been writing poetry since 2011 and published four poetry collections since then. She has been fortunate to work with a bunch of brilliant authors and photographers on The Mind's Eye series. Her book Nocturnal Embers won the Best Poetry Collection with eFestival of Words.

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Other BDP books by Helle Gade

Terrifying Love - A Halloween Anthology, 2nd Ed

Poesi - A Collection of Poems Volume One by Helle Gade

How To Tame A Wild Tempest by Helle Gade

Dolce Amore by Helle Gade

The Fighter by Helle Gade

TILL DEATH DO US PART

by Boris Bacic

She was my soul mate

My whole world

She would kiss my left cheek

And tell me it was her favourite

When the virus spread

And the world fell apart

We still had compassion

But that was soon extinguished

She was dead yet not gone

I could never let her go

When they came, I let her at them

And she saved us both

One bite to the left cheek

And I joined my love forever

by Helle Gade

Chapter One

She wore a summer dress that lightly fluttered behind her in the soft breeze. Even then, even at such a distance, I was mesmerized by her beauty. I have always been adamant about love at first sight not existing, but when she looked at me with those beautiful blue eyes and smiled, I instantly became a believer.

*

Jack stared down at his plate of sad salad. That’s what he called his breakfast these days – sad. He listened to the incessant ticking of the wall clock as he forced himself to pick up the fork. Even with a rumbling stomach, he found that he had no appetite.

He glanced across the table at the empty seat in front of him, suddenly overcome with a myriad of emotions. Deciding that breakfast would need to be skipped for now, he pushed the plate away as if to indicate to an invisible person in the room that he was finished.

Jack slid his chair backward as he stood up. The legs scraped loudly against the wooden flooring, and against the silence in the kitchen, it sounded too disturbing. Jack sauntered through the kitchen, across the living room, and reached the front door. He unlatched the three deadbolts and unlocked the door before opening it to take a look outside.

A bevy of dark clouds congealed above the farmstead and the empty grasslands beyond the wire fence outside his property.

Another rainy day.

Jack suddenly felt sluggish and sleepy. Low pressure, that’s what the town doctor always told him. He decided to ignore the sleepiness and instead focused on scanning the fences from left to right, content that there were no stragglers stuck on them this morning.

He took out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket. He only had four cigarettes left, so he would need to ration them. He took out the shortest, half-finished one and put it in his mouth. As soon as the cigarette was lit and he took one whiff of it, he started to feel like himself again a little – but only a little.

He wanted to get the unpleasant part of the work done as soon as possible, so he put the lighter in his pocket and strode across the lawn towards the gate. One rattle of the padlock was enough to tell him that it still held firmly. Jack turned the padlock over in his hand and inspected the lock. It looked rusty, a testament to the fact that he hadn’t opened it in a long time.

When was the last time he went to town? His mind answered that question right away. The day before the incident. He went out to buy food for the chickens but ended up coming home empty-handed because of all the commotion. Maybe he would have been able to get the food for the animals, and maybe not. He decided to play it safe by coming back instead and securing his home. It turned out that it was probably a good call, because he later heard on the news that Sheriff Garland had been shot by one of the panicked townsmen. The news broadcast stopped shortly after that.

Jack reached into his back pocket for the ring of keys. They jovially jingled in his hand as he looked for the right one. He kept all his keys on this ring, and he kept the keys on him at all times since a few months ago. Even when he slept, the keys were by his side.

Without even looking at the keys but rather feeling their shape, Jack found the right one and slid it into the padlock hole. It took a little rattling left and right, but eventually, the key turned.

Alright, it’s still not too rusted. But then again, I probably won’t be opening it anyway, Jack shrugged.

He locked the padlock once more and pocketed the keys. He dropped the cigarette on the ground and stubbed it out with the heel of his shoe. He turned left and began sauntering along the fence, grabbing the mesh and rattling it every couple of steps along the way to make sure it wasn’t wobbly.

The fence stretched about a hundred yards on each side around the house, but the rear was a little vulnerable, Jack had to admit. There was a small hole near the bottom at the back, which he meant to fix for a while now, but didn’t have the energy to deal with it – coupled with the fact that he didn’t consider it a priority.

As Jack reached the corner of the front fence, something caught his eye. One tiny part of the mesh wire had red on it. Jack broke into a gait towards it and squatted down to inspect it. The blood was dry, but he didn’t want to touch it to confirm what his eyes were telling him.

How long has this been here? Was it here yesterday morning when he inspected the fence? No, it wasn’t. He was sure of it. He was meticulous, there was no way he’d miss it. Someone must have reached the property last night while he was sleeping. They were way more active at night, so it’d be no surprise that one of them would come to the fence, see it as an obstacle, and then turn around and leave.

Jack reprimanded himself for not waking up in the middle of the night. The fence must have been rattled enough for it to produce a loud noise, so how come he didn’t hear it? He’ll leave the window open tonight, just to make sure. If he’d still had the dogs, then they would have been able to warn him. But unfortunately, he had to put them down when...

Jack averted his gaze from the dry blood on the fence and stood up. He had to finish patrolling around the perimeter to make sure everything else was okay. Once he was finished making rounds, everything seemed okay. He double-checked the part of the fence at the back that could be slightly lifted. No big deal, it could only be raised a dozen inches or so. No one would be getting through that, and the stragglers weren’t smart enough to spot holes in fences.

After feeding the hens, Jack returned inside the house. It was dark because of the clouds, and he had to light a candle to see better. He picked up the book he started reading a week ago. He was about halfway through, and since he hadn’t read in two days, he was eager to get back to it – after all, it was the only form of entertainment now that electricity was gone.

Before he even finished reading the first sentence, the drowsiness from before began creeping up on him. He shrugged it off and went on with the reading, but the more he read, the heavier his eyelids got. Whenever he blinked, his eyes remained shut for longer and longer, until they didn’t open.

Chapter Two

Her laughter was contagious. Her voice was a melody to my ears. I’ve never heard someone laughing at my stupid jokes like that, and I was compelled to continue talking, just to have an excuse to stare at her and hear her melodic laugh. It was long past midnight when we said our goodbyes, and I thought to myself, If she’s not the one, then no one is.

*

Jack found himself watching the TV in the living room. It was night, and Linda was in the kitchen making dinner. For some reason, Jack knew that he was asleep, and he knew what night he was dreaming of. He’s been reliving it almost every night since it happened.

I’m making some salad for you to eat, Linda shouted from the kitchen.

I don’t want a salad. Salads are for rabbits, Jack shouted back from the living room.

You need to eat more greens, Jack. Now that we’re living on a farm, you need to adapt.

Why? The town’s just ten-minute drive away.

"Because if we’re living on a farm, we may as well try to live a healthy lifestyle. That means less beer," she pointed to the can in his hand.

"Alright, fine. We can try, I wouldn’t want you to leave me for a more fit guy, anyway" Jack emphasized the word ‘try’.

No fit guy would ever be able to replace you, Jacky, Linda grinned.

Jack grabbed the remote and changed the channel from the boring sitcom in search of something more interesting. He was met with news about something chaotic happening in Portland, Oregon. He flicked to the next channel, and similar news took up the screen. As he changed channels, he was met with more and more of the same kind of news.

"– the police have cordoned off the area against the –"

" – five people have been found dead, with twenty more seriously injured –"

" – say that they’ve never seen such a –"

He stopped changing channels when he saw the one from the town where he and Linda lived. There were videos of various places getting trashed, fires burning, people violently attacked by other people, police shooting, and similar.

" – authorities advise the citizens to stay inside their homes and lock all doors and windows. It is unknown right now if this is an organized terrorist attack or something else. The mayor of –"

Jack turned the TV off.

Shouldn’t we be listening to that? Linda asked as she walked into the living room.

Nah. They’re just replaying the same stuff, Jack dismissively waved.

Is it really that bad in the town?

Yeah. I’ve been there just yesterday. I saw some guy shooting at someone.

Jesus, Jack. We need to do something about the house to make it safer.

Relax, honey. I already made sure to secure it as much as I can. We have Rex and Charlie to warn us if anyone gets close, and in the worst-case scenario, I’ll use the rifle.

I really don’t like you wielding that thing around, Jack.

Jack approached her and kissed her forehead.

I don’t either. But we gotta protect ourselves. You see how crazy people can be out there.

I know, but... a gun?

It’s just a precaution.

Linda made a face of disapproval, but she didn’t argue further. She spun on her heel and walked towards the kitchen as she said, Alright, dinner’s almost rea—

Loud and violent barking came from the outside. Charlie and Rex sounded like the Devil himself stood outside. Linda and Jack exchanged confused stares with each other before Jack turned towards the source of the sound.

Stay here. I’m gonna check it out, he commanded.

He approached the nearest window, but couldn’t see anything. And then a voice pierced the air, Hey! Is someone home?!

Jack swallowed through a sandpaper-like throat. He saw silhouettes of people standing outside the fenced gate.

Someone! Please! the voice sounded desperate.

Jack, we have to help them! Linda called out.

Jack ignored her as he walked over to the wardrobe and yanked it open. He bent down and pulled out a big box. He threw the top off and grabbed the rifle.

Jack! Really?! Linda protested.

Just a precaution, honey, Jack said as he inserted four bullets into the rifle.

With the firearm ready to fire, he stood up and unlocked the front door. He had the rifle pointed in front of him even before stepping out, but held his finger off the trigger. He didn’t want to accidentally shoot someone, even in times like these.

Who goes there? he asked as he stepped on the porch.

Whoa! Don’t shoot! the man who shouted earlier said as he raised his hands.

There was another man there, and a boy. They both raised their hands.

What do you want? Jack asked as he stepped off the porch and got closer to take a better look at the men.

He had to shout every word due to the dogs’ incessant barking.

Rex! Charlie! Down, boys! he commanded, and they almost immediately stopped barking, but remained in stiff stances, ready to attack.

I said, what do you want? Jack repeated.

We come from the town. We’re being chased. Please, we need your help, they’re close!

Who is? Jack asked and darted his eyes towards the pasture behind the men.

His eyes widened at what he saw.

Chapter Three

Jack opened his eyes, suddenly feeling wide awake, his heart hammering against his chest. He breathed a sigh of disappointment and looked in front of himself. He saw his own reflection on the TV’s screen, suddenly remembering all about that night and the news that was broadcasted. He grabbed the armrests of the sofa and stood up with a groan. He forgot that the book he’d been reading was still in his lap, and it dropped face-down with a dull thud.

He was too lazy to pick it up, so he just left it on the floor there, his mood suddenly plummeting to the lowest pits. He spent the rest of the day cleaning around the house and making himself an omelet. He tossed away the salad from earlier and grabbed a can of beer from the fridge. He sat on the porch and stared at nowhere in particular as he slowly sipped.

The skies at one point opened up, and a downpour started, heavy like a waterfall. Jack finished his beer and went back inside the house. He sat on the sofa in the living room and listened to the pitter-patter of the raindrops on the rooftop. He leaned on the headrest and closed his eyes.

Two loud thuds came from upstairs. Jack ignored them. They were normal. Some time went by in silence before more thuds came from upstairs, followed by loud rat-like scratching.

I know, I know, Jack said.

He sighed and walked over to the window. The rain showed no signs of subsiding, and he really needed to take care of this immediately, or the scratching would get louder. He put on his raincoat and grabbed a kitchen knife before going outside. He turned left and opened the small wooden door that led into the hen house. Most of the chickens remained still and silent, but some of them clucked and swiveled their heads.

When Jack unlatched the lock to step inside, some of the hens dispersed with a meager flap of the wings, while others remained seated. He grabbed the plumpest one he could find and picked her up. She tried flapping her wings, but he held her firmly with both hands. Once she calmed down, he put her under his arm. He already knew how to handle scared chickens.

Easy there. Easy, he said as he stepped outside and closed the hen house.

He looked back at the remaining chickens – there were eight remaining – and wondered what was going through their minds. Did they even realize what was going on, or did they only think as far as laying the next egg? Did the ones inside the hen house realize how lucky they got this time? Maybe that blissful unawareness was a gift, rather than a curse.

Jack walked back inside the house and climbed upstairs to the second floor. The chicken curiously jerked her head left and right, producing muffled clucking sounds, but no longer resisting.

That’s right. Everything is fine, Jack softly cooed before stopping in front of the door on the left.

He listened, but no sounds came from the inside. Jack put the chicken under his arm and used the other hand to slowly and quietly take out his ring of keys. He did his best to stop them from jingling in his hand. He flipped to the right one and prudently inserted it into the lock. He would need to be quick about this.

The chicken clucked, and almost immediately, a shuffling sound was heard from the inside of the room. Jack turned the key, opened the door just a crack, and threw the chicken inside before closing the door and locking it again. His heart was pumping fast by the time the lock clicked.

Then, there was silence, only for a brief moment.

More shuffling footsteps resounded, followed by a soft, raspy moan. The chicken clucked more violently, and the flap of wings filled the air. The raspy moan turned into a hiss. The flapping and clucking continued but then died down, replaced by chewing, crunching sounds.

Jack gently placed a palm on the door before turning around and going back to the living room, wondering what would happen after all the chickens were gone.

Chapter Four

We would spend every free moment we had together – sometimes lying on the grass and staring at the sky while she showed me various constellations, sometimes in bed cuddling. She’d often kiss me softly on my left cheek, calling it her ‘favorite spot to kiss’.

*

Abhorrent and animalistic screams pierced the air, echoing through the empty grassland in front of the farm. Jack lowered his rifle, and instead of focusing on the boy and the two men, remained transfixed on the people behind. Except he wouldn’t use the word ‘people’ to describe them, because even though they looked as such, everything about them