Glimpses of Horror

Glimpses of Horror

ISBN 9781312432482

Copyright Aaron Bayscaplous (Standard Copyright License)

Edition First

Published August 13, 2014

Language English

File Format ebook

File Size 265.66 KB

TABLE OF CONTENTS                                                                    PAGE NUMBER

Chapter 1    A Drop of Silence                                                                       6

Chapter 2    A Thief in the Night                                                                         42

Chapter 3    An Experiment in Evil                                                                        45

Chapter 4    Library of the 4th kind                                                                        55

Chapter 5    Scavenger                                                                   74

Chapter 6    Sweet Dreams                                                                                                  126

Chapter 7    Time to Play                                                                                                     137

Chapter 8     Looking for Excitement                                                           142

Chapter 9     Crescent Moon                                                                                                  203

Chapter 10   Curiosity                                                                                               210

Chapter 11   The Horror 260

Chapter 12   Shadows                                                                     273

A Drop of Silence

BY

Aaron Bayscaplous

Count 10,829

Don't worry Mr. and Mrs. Scofield, Bradford will be fine. Cara assured the two

Parents. "Ok but here is my cell phone number and the number where we'll be dining just

in case. Mrs. Scofield said.  I'm sure everything will be fine honey, let's go before we're

late. Mr. Scofield prodded.  Oh, there is food in the 'fridge, and don't let Bradford stay

up past 8:00, and..."  Gently pulling his wife by the arm, James Scofield looked at the

babysitter and said "Call us if there is a problem, we won't be too late; dinner and a

movie."

Have a nice time! Cara called out as the front door closed.

"You didn't have to snatch me out of the house; I just wanted to make sure everything

was alright before we left." Margret Scofield hissed.

"We would have missed the movie and the restaurant would've been closed by the

time you finished.  Let's have a nice time for a change Margret."

I guess you're right, I'm too over-protective, I'm sorry James.

It's alright Mom, I love our son too you know."

Cara watched the Mercedes pull off; as soon as they were out of sight she went upstairs

and started running water in the bathtub.  Bradford was playing Halo on his PlayStation

III. He was only six, but was already pretty good at it. Cara pulled out her cell phone and

made a call.  Hello, they're gone. Is all she said and hung up.  She looked in on

Bradford, then went back to the bathroom and pulled a razor out of her purse, admired the

glint then cut her index finger.  She wrote strange symbols on the walls around the

bathtub and on the tub itself; all in her blood.  She looked at her watch, it was 7:25.  She

figured that the Scofields won't call until about 8:00 or so.  After turning off the water she

heard the doorbell ring.  They're here.  Three hooded figures entered the house, all of

them were dressed in black.  Cara closed the door, then one of the hooded figures

asked Is everything ready? , rubbing his hands together like a fly.

Yes, If I got the runes right, did you memorize the words?

They looked at each other for a tense moment searching each other's eyes looking for a

sign, or a reason not to go through with their plan, it was the last chance to stop.  Cara

broke the silence.  Come on lets do this!

The Scofields were hugged up close in the theater, buttered popcorn spilling out of the

tub as they jumped at a scary scene in the movie.  James knew Margret would get close to

him because she didn't like scary movies, but she watched them with him, he made her

feel safe.

The three hooded figures hid while Cara called Bradford.  "Bradford, it's time to get

ready for bed your bathwater is ready."  Bradford was engrossed in his game-playing and

didn't hear her.  She walked into his room and flicked the lights off and on to get his

attention.  "Bradford sweetie, it's time to get ready for bed.  Mommy is going to call to

check, so let's be a good boy so when mommy calls she can hear you in the tub ok?"

Bradford looked up at her and shook his head innocently and saved the game before

turning it off.  Just as she expected the phone rang at 8:00.

Hello Scofield residence.

Hi Cara, this is Mrs. Scofield checking on Bradford, is everything alright?

He is in the tub getting ready for bed, here Bradford it's mommy!

Cara handed the little boy the phone.  Hi mommy I the good boy! He handed the phone

back to Cara, she could hear Mrs. Scofield coddling Bradford thinking he was still on the

phone.  Mrs. Scofield everything here is fine. Are you having a good time?

"Oh yes, that dreadful movie is finally over; James knows I don't like scary movies but I

think he just likes to scare me close to him so he can be my protector.  We are about to go

dinning, would you like us to bring you something back?"

No thank you, that's very kind of you but no, you enjoy yourselves.

We will, thank you we'll be back by 10:00 is that ok?

Take your time, Bradford is no trouble at all.  Cara tried not to sound impatient.

"Alright then, help yourself to the 'fridge and don't hesitate to call if there is any problem,

bye-bye. Cara thought she would never stop talking.  Ok guys its time!"

The four of them stood around the tub chanting an ancient summons, to the demon

Avaritia; the demon of greed.  Bradford was amused and splashed in the water with his

excitement and shrieked out in laughter.  The chant continued in a monotone as they

watched for any changes or sign of the demons coming.  Bradford was so excited that he

jumped up to stand in the tub, slipped and hit his head on the faucet, and slid underwater

filling his lungs with water before anyone could reach him.  The ritual had ended at the

same time.  Oh no! everybody get out I have to call the ambulance and the Scofields!

The ambulance arrived before the Scofields, even though James ran several stop lights

while arguing about who's fault it was.  The distraught couple pulled behind the

ambulance; red lights still flashing in a circle, sending a message for all to see that

something was amiss.  One of the life-support members slowly approached the half

hysterical couple with his head hanging down, not able to look the parents in their eyes

and said I'm so sorry, we did everything in our power.

James found himself in an alien environment, all he could see was covered in the red

spinning light that gave everything around a surreal look.  Numbness had taken over his

body, he could not feel the tears that were streaming down his face.  The banshee wails of

his wife, and the pushes and pulls on him by her were barely perceptible; their only child

had died.

The ambulance pulled off and James and Margret ambled there way to the house like

drunks.  James tried out of love, to comfort his wife through the dream-like state he was

in; it had little zeal or affect.

Cara had slipped away, not wanting to be confronted with how could she let this

happen.  She had explained to the police that it was an accident and convinced them that

she was not negligent, but still the horror of a child's death, one that she knew weighed

heavy on her heart,  Not to mention the real reason of his untimely demise.

What happened? One of her co-conspirators asked Cara.

"I don't know, the demon didn't show up.  It was supposed to possess the boy, but he

died! , so where did the demon go, or did it even work?  Her voice was not the

confident, commanding voice of the leader that they knew.  Bewilderment was the

defining note.  All three of hooded figures said almost in unison, "We said the chant

right, we practiced memorizing it for weeks! Then one of them said If you didn't set the

runes right and the demon did show up, its out here loose!"

"I got the runes right, who came up with the idea?  The demon was supposed to be

trapped in the bathroom, but I never saw it!"

The water in the bathtub swirled and churned, bubbles rose from the bottom as if it

were about to boil.  Something invisible moved in the water and turned the water

blood red, as the water changed a shape took form as it struggled to leave the bathtub but

the water wouldn't let it go.  It thrashed and fought with the water but the runes kept it

from escaping.  A blood covered hand reached for the toggle that would open the drain,

and soon after that a miniature whirlpool was evidence that the water was leaving the

bathtub.  A slurp and a gurgle was the final noise from the empty bathtub.

The house was silent except for the trembling sobs of Margret Scofield.  James held

her, although helpless to ease her pain.  In an awkward attempt to help her in some small

way he blurted, Can I get you a glass of water or something dear? It sounded lame

when he heard it come out of his mouth, but she accepted his kindness by shaking her

head.  Her eyes shined with tears and somewhere in them was a thank you for caring,

mixed among the red striations where white normally showed.  Margret sipped the glass

of water in-between sobs, she made James feel that he did bring some small comfort to

her with the look in her eyes.  When her sobs stopped, he thought maybe she was

beginning to move into the next stage of grieving, which would have shown progress but

suddenly her eyes exuded a wild cry for help as if something was attacking her.  James

could not tell the reason for the extreme fear that he saw.  Her mouth opened to scream,

but only silence was heard.  A tear rolled down her face before her eyes rolled up to show

the whites.  The tear started to spread on her face and James could see something in the

reflection, it wasn't his face.  It wasn't any face that he had ever seen.  The hideous face

was looking at him from inside the tear.  Before James could release the terror that he felt

by screaming, the tear that had spread on Margret's face splashed into his mouth and

silenced his cry; his throat filled with liquid and the only sound emitted was a gurgle,

then silence. 

Next door Mrs. Bradley was making cool aid, lunch was ready and so

was her family.  The table was set with sandwiches, and potato chips, pickles on the side.

the atmosphere was an indoor picnic, her three children were picking at each other as

children do; making faces and pinching and slapping each other.  Mr. Bradley was

reading the paper, oblivious to the child-play.  Rodger, David, and Pewee who's real

name was Johnny chanted We want cool aid, we want cool aid! over and over the

lyrical chant resounded.  It's on the way, I just have to make sure it's sweet enough. 

Mrs. Bradley took two ice trays out of the freezer, twisted them one at a time and dumped

them into the pitcher of cool aid.  Potato chips bounced off each of the children engaged

in a food fight. Feet that didn't reach the floor were swinging and kicking and little

giggles revealed their no so sneaky undertakings.  The clinking of the ice cubes swirling in the pitcher that Mrs. Bradley was stirring caught the children's attention. Yea-a-a-a! the children applauded.  Mrs. Bradley poured a test sip in a glass and turned it up, Mr. Bradley turned the page of the newspaper and the children went back to pinching and kicking.  The sound of glass breaking and the thud of Mrs. Bradley hitting the floor grabbed everyone's attention; the children stopped playing, their mouths open wide and their even eyes wider. Mr. Bradley dropped the paper and rushed to his wife's side.  Her eyes were wild with fear and her mouth was formed to scream but no sound came forth.  A single teardrop rolled down her face, dropped to the floor and expanded into a puddle.  Mr. Bradley was on his knees next to his wife trying to figure out what happened to her.  His mind raced through the possibilities as he looked for the signs; could it be a stroke?  No, there is no paralysis.  A heart attack? No, she's not holding her chest.  The movement of the expanding puddle caught his eye, he saw the tear drop but the urgency of his wife's dilemma pushed the common event to the back of his mind.  How could a teardrop expand? exploded in his mind, fear gripped the back of his neck, something wasn't right, but his epiphany was too late; a watery hand reached out of the puddle and grabbed him by the throat.  The children screamed.  The puddle contracted as a figure emerged, a horned demon rose waist high, its grip still holding Mr. Bradley by the throat.  The puddle expanded and contracted as the demon grew taller as if it was pushing itself out of the puddle.  A blue flame flickered in the eye sockets as it looked  around and water vapor rose into the air from its head.  A watery finger stretched from the hand around Mr. Bradley's throat and stuck him in the eye.  Mr. Bradley seized with convulsion, his eyes rolled back and he became silent.  The children ran in terror, their mother and father had been destroyed by something far beyond their understanding.

Margret Scofield's eyes rolled back down, a watery opaque blue, her body had bloated

like a drowning victim and her skin had discolored like a too ripe banana.  James

Scofield's eye rolled back down shortly after hers, their eyes met but there was no joy in

them.  Their dialog was an indescribable underwater sounding "bloop glop gurgle

bloop..."  They stood up and walked to the door, their mission understood; a soggy

squishy noise resounded with each step that they took.

Cara and her followers had no idea what they had created.  One of them went to the

bathroom to take a dump.  Whew put some water on that!

A voice came from the bathroom saying "Brush your teeth and you won't smell that

horrid odor!"  Everybody laughed at the witty reply.  After the poking fun at the

instigator, an eerie silence blanketed the room, the portent of something frightening had

seeped into their consciousness.  There was no reason to feel the pressure of an unseen

danger yet the silence fed the flames of fear.  As they looked into each others eyes, they

read the mutual feeling of unfounded fear.  To break the silence and the grip of fear that

held them hostage  one of them said So what are we going to do today?

Cara understood the reason behind the question and simply said I'm thinking

To add to the sparse conversation one of the other members of the group said "Hey

stinky, is everything coming out ok?" Silence, there was no reply.

The attempt at alleviating their fear was thwarted by no response.  "Stop playing, are you

alright?" Cara growled; agitated by the fearful discomfort of silence coming from the

bathroom.  She knocked on the door It's not funny anymore, say something!

The rest of the group stood by watching Cara as the door seemed to grow larger as if

zooming in closer to them.  Cara's heart was racing as her hand reached for the door knob

the others were frozen in ominous anticipation.  Either come out or say something now!

There was no sound of the toilet flushing but a squishy, soggy sound of movement

was heard.  Cara retracted her hand, as a strange voice spoke in a language she did not

understand Gulp blup gloop blup blup

A puddle of water seeped under the door but there was no sound of running water

coming from the bathroom. Cara, where did that water come from? One of them

pointed.  Cara stepped back just before the door slammed open and a bloated dead man,

reached out to Cara.  The soggy squishing sound that she heard was his walking toward

the door;  Squish-plop squish-plop.  Fear blazed through the room like a flash fire,

and screams filled the air in harmonic terror.  The front door seemed a mile away and in

the terrifying moment, their movement seemed slow and out of time. 

The assistant coroner was filling out paperwork at his desk, burning the midnight oil

in an attempt to catch up with the backlog of work to be done.  The work was tedious and

boring, but there was never a customer service complaint, it was a living.  He heard an

odd sound in the hallway, any sound at the morgue was odd unless he was getting a

delivery.  Then he thought maybe it was maintenance cleaning.  The sound got closer and

he noticed water seeping under the door, he mistakenly identified the squish-plop, squish-

plop sound as a mop and went back to his paperwork.  The door flew open and slammed

against the wall.  The sudden loud noise snapped his attention in that direction, and what

he saw made him want to look the other way.  What used to be a man and woman stepped

through the doorway, squish-plop, squish-plop; their water bloated bodies wobbled as

they walked.  Their dead eyes covered with a thin Simi-transparent white layer looked at

one of the refrigerated units where a bumping sound had started to happen.  That unit was

where Bradford Scofield had been put.  The bloated couple wobbled to the unit and

opened the door, pulled the slab out and took Bradford.  Gloop, blup, glug...  The

family reunion was a joyless event, deformed creatures talking in an underwater sounding

language  repulsed the assistant coroner, his fear held him in a vise.  He was so

preoccupied watching the human water balloons wobble and talk that he failed to see the

water that had pooled, the living water that stretched into the air and took shape.  First a

horned head formed, blue flames flickering in the eye sockets.  Then the puddle

contracted as the water demon grew taller, surging upward like a fountain.  The assistant

coroner caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and turned his head to see what

it was.  He opened his mouth to scream but all that was heard was "Gluck, Gluck,

Gluck" as he swallowed water that was forced down his throat by the demon.  

The demon dropped down into the puddle that he rose from and ran down the drain in

the middle of the floor, where blood drained off during autopsies. 

The Bradley children made it next door to their neighbor's house after seeing their

parents die and the puddle of water move toward them as if they were next.  Crying

hysterically they pounded on the door.  The door opened and the children rushed in

screaming the names of the inhabitants.  Mr. and Mrs. Scofield, Bradford! No reply came

back, the house was as silent as a tomb.  Slowly they searched the house, "Mrs.

Scofield?", they climbed the stairs to the second floor.  A floorboard creaked just before

they looked into the first bedroom, Mr. Scofield? no answer.  As they walked further

down the hallway to the next room the front door opened and closed and a click from the

lock turning was heard.  The children felt relieved when they heard that the Scofields

were home.   The youngest boy (Pewee) almost called out Bradford's name but the oldest

boy (Rodger) covered his mouth when he heard the strange squish-plop, squish-plop.  

What is that sound? the middle aged boy (David) whispered.   Both the Rodger and

Pewee hunched their shoulders and displayed the palms of their hands.   "What ever it is, I

don't like it. Rodger whispered back.   Then put his first finger to his lips, Shh,

don't say a word."  The three of them stood silent listening as the soggy sound moved to

the stairs.  

Squish-plop, squish-plop was coming up the stairs, the children felt a rush of panic. 

They did not want to get caught by whatever was coming up the stairs, Pewee started for

the bedroom but Rodger grabbed him and frantically looked for a better place to hide.  

It was almost at the top of the stairs when Rodger opened the door to the linen closet,

squish-plop, squish-plop.   The three of them moved as quickly as mice and just as

quietly, they barely made it in time but couldn't close the door all of the way. Rodger

looked through the crack in the door watching for whatever was coming, the creak in the

floorboards told him where it was; just before the first bedroom.  

The sickening sound was closer squish-plop, squish-plop as it passed the bedroom,

Rodger tensed with the anticipation of  what the thing would look like.   Squish-plop,

squish-plop, the bloated, discolored face of Bradford passed the crack in the door, his

water balloon like swollen body jiggled as he walked.  The foul odor of decay trailed

behind him almost gagging the terrified boy.  The fear of being discovered and the need

to protect his little brothers were the only thing keeping him from losing it.  The Bradford

thing went into his mother's  room.  Rodger thought about the rope ladder in Bradford's

room; his parents had put it there in case of fire.  If he could get his brothers to the ladder

they could escape.  A high pitched whine was coming from Pewee, he was crying as

silently as he could.  Rodger  hugged Pewee and told him "Shh, I'll get us out of here, I

promise."  A promise he hoped he could keep.

Cara and her two remaining friends barely made it to safety, pushing and clawing to

be the first one out of the door almost cost them their lives.  What was that thing? Anthony asked, still trembling. It used to be Bobby, but because I had to wipe the runes off the wall to avoid a cult murder media fiasco, whatever demon came through was not the one we were conjuring.

Derrick cut in and asked Then how are we going to get rid of it?

I don't know Derrick, I don't know what to do.  It wasn't supposed to go like this, Bradford was just going to be possessed long enough for us to get our wish from Avaritia.  I made a mistake, I never thought about anything going wrong or how scary and dangerous this could be.

Maybe we should tell somebody, you know like an occultist or something, somebody that knows more about this stuff. Anthony suggested.

And go to prison for a cult murder? Ignorance of the law is no excuse, and neither is ignorance of the supernatural.  We're going to have to figure this out ourselves.

The tears in her eyes magnified the fear behind them, and the remorse for the Scofields, and whoever else that falls victim to the horror she had released.  A special tear for Bobby rolled down her face and opened the floodgates to her shame.

Rodger eased the door open while he listened for the sickening squishy sound of movement.  Neither of his younger brothers wanted to leave the dark sanctuary of the linen closet, Rodger shared their fear but knew that they had to escape.  With Pewee's hand in his, Rodger jerked his head to the side as a signal to follow him.  They crept into Bradford's room unseen.  The rope ladder was fastened inside the window.  A sigh of relief escaped Rodger's mouth.  Waving to his brothers and whispering Come on we don't have time to play. ; they were amazed at Bradford's toys.  Rodger stepped toward the window and the floor cried out a loud creak, the three of them froze.  The distant sound of the now too familiar squish-plop, squish-plop was coming up the stairs and from down the hall.  Rodger frantically fought with the window, in his haste he overlooked the fact that it could be locked.  Rodger jerked up on the window again and again, Pewee was winding up for a big cry, and David ran to help Rodger with the window.  David pushed up on the window frame while Rodger pulled the handle, the window still wouldn't budge.  Squish-plop, squish-plop, both Bradford and his parents were almost at the door.  Rodger was about to break the window when he saw the latch.  He felt relieved and stupid at the same time    Pewee was half-way