Depths (21 page)

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Authors: C.S. Burkhart

Tags: #horror stories, #horror novels, #thriller novels, #horror books, #thriller books, #psychological book, #psychological horror books, #psychological horror story, #psychological story

BOOK: Depths
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The light had just turned red.

You wouldn't want them to see you with her like this
now would you?

The headlights were getting closer, they'd be
stopped right alongside of me in just a couple moments. Without
hesitation I slammed my foot on the gas through the
intersection.


Enjoying yourself?

The Voice In My Head now sat where she had just
moments ago. He seemed giddy, and a gleam of excitement shone from
his eyes.


We're here.

Chapter
2

I recognized the little red car in the driveway,
parked outside the garage. A porch light illuminated the front of
the little one-story house. Very quaint but also smack dab in the
middle of the street with neighbors all around. A wave of
apprehension washed over me and I immediately second guessed this
decision.


Aren't you going to park?

The Voice asked.

I pulled alongside the curb and turned the lights
off but I didn't shut the car off.

My palms left little sweat smudges on my steering
wheel and my legs shook.


I'm not so sure about this
anymore.

The Voice In My Head threw himself back into the
seat and let out a groan.


Oh come on, what happened to all
the bluster and fury and 'he needs to die' and such and such? This
was your idea and your decision to make this happen, not
mine.


I've never killed anyone
before.


You haven
’t? Hmmm

Interesting.


That wasn't real. That
was...

Was what exactly?


...That was in my head. You said
it yourself.


In your head, in reality, what's
the difference? The only difference is that doing something for
real actually has an impact. All the fantasizing in the world isn't
going to do a damn thing for your head. I mean, you're having a
conversation with a figment of your imagination right now and
you're questioning your own solution to your problems. Really, what
do you have to lose?

So is this reality then? Am I
really here outside of Charles

s house
right now, about to kill him? Or is this another fantasy? Did it
even matter? It had to right? If it didn

t
matter, then the entire thing would be pointless. Nothing would be
accomplished. If she

s already dead, then
killing Charles wouldn

t do anything. If
this isn

t real, then it
wouldn

t do anything either. So
what

s the point?


Because it
’ll feel good,

said The
Voice,

it

ll
feel good. Think of it as part of the healing process.
You

re mad, so let it out. What good does
bottling everything up do?

Fair enough. Real or not, it would
feel good. It might even feel better if it was real. Probably would
actually. But either way, I don

t really
know so I can

t really be responsible.
Right?


Not at all. Just tell them the
voices in your head made you do it.

Voice, not voices.

I grabbed the keys and turned the
car off. The lack of engine noise created an uncomfortable silence
that echoed around in a cacophonous roar. The

pop

from my door
handle
was a cannon shot in the still
night, which didn't even compare to the clatter that rang out when
I shut the door. Each footstep was a thunder storm of noise.
It

s a wonder the entire neighborhood wasn't outside trying to
figure out where all the commotion was coming from.

His house loomed up before me,
stretching miles into the sky despite it

s one-story stature. I felt like
an ant outside of the door.

Just turn the knob

Locked. Shit.

A light flicked on from the far side of the house.
The faint glow it made through the drawn shades was a spotlight
shining down on me, giving away my presence to anyone within a mile
range. The footsteps were getting closer.


Don't just stand
there!

The Voice had dashed down the side of the house but
I couldn't move, my legs were rooted to the spot and my brain
couldn't seem to figure out how exactly my legs were supposed to
work.

Another light flicked on. He was right outside the
door. No point in trying to move now, he had surely already seen me
through the peep hole and all I could do was stand there.

The deadbolt turned, unlatched, and the knob
twisted...

And there he was, in slippers and a robe. Must have
been getting ready for bed, a far less intimidating figure than
usual. His magnified eyes peered inquisitively into me, trying to
figure out what the hell I was doing standing on his doorstep at...
I don't even know what time.

God I hated those glasses

But his eyes were wet, like he was just
crying.


What are you doing
here?

His tone was mellow and calm, nothing like what I
expected.

I managed to stammer out a
couple

I's

and

uh

s

and the next thing I knew my hand
was on the back of his head, slamming it into the door frame. His
glasses shattered and embedded shards of lens into his face. His
nose spewed blood and he collapsed immediately. I dragged him
inside and shut the door quietly and stood over him. He seemed so
much smaller now.

I stomped on his abdomen which
made him ball up and roll onto his side, gasping for breath. I
really couldn't remember why I was here in the first place, but
this did feel so good. Seeing Charles writhe in pain

It was like the first day of Spring. Well, if I
liked Spring that is, most people do and that

s where the expression comes from so it

s still applies. Right?

 

Her eyes blinked, still heavy from sleep and finally
focused their gaze straight into my own eyes. She smiled and I
smiled back.

 

Oh yeah, that's right... I was here because of
her.

 


Come on, let's take him back to
the house.

The Voice In My Head was nonchalantly watching from
the arm chair in Charles's living room.


What if we get pulled over or
something?


I really think that's the last of
your worries. Come on, it'll be a lot more fun somewhere a little
more... Comfortable. Here, I'll take his legs you get his
arms.

Charles
was unconscious in a puddle of blood. I took his
arms and The Voice took his legs. Little drops plopped onto the
tile floor, splattering and spattering in pretty patterns. The
Voice fumbled around a bit to get the door open and then I had to
fumble around to shut it and we made it back to the car.

We got to the trunk and The Voice and I looked at
each other, shrugged and dropped Charles on the ground. I popped
the trunk and we set him inside and headed back to my house.

Chapter
3

She rested her head on my shoulder as I looked down
on Charles from my couch. She made such a pleasant clinking sound
with her chains while she nuzzled me.


You did this to her.

He turned his face to me, the blood running down the
top of his skull must have made it hard for him to see. He tried
stammering out something but I couldn't tell what it was. It didn't
matter anyways, I didn't want to hear it.


You did this to her, right here.
Dragged her down my hallway. Right there in that room,

I pointed to my room and continued,
“so I thought I'd do a reenactment for you. I
thought it was fitting. So if you'll excuse me, I'm going to grab
something from my car.

I turned to her, put my hand to
her cheek and gently brushed it. Her skin was so soft. It
didn

t really feel quite right, a little
mushier than normal, like it had lost its elasticity. But
regardless, I lifted her chin and kissed her lips, or at least
where her lips were supposed to be, softly. Her head lolled
backwards, exposing the slit in her throat

still fresh
, glistening with
shiny, red blood.


I just need you to make sure he
doesn't go anywhere OK? I'll be back in a couple
seconds.

Not that I was really worried
about him going anywhere, he couldn

t even
stand up.

I went out the front door and she
stood over him, keeping watch for me. She

s such a good girl. I popped my trunk and took out the
baseball bat I took from Charles's house. It felt good in my hand,
solid. I couldn

t help but admire the
weight before going back inside, shutting the door behind
me.

Charles was still squirming on the ground, cowering
away from her while she loomed over him, her head hanging loosely
down towards him.

The

tap-tap

of the bat made Charles
freeze.

One step closer

Tap tap

He whimpered and rolled over to face me.

One more step

Tap tap


God, please no! Please
don
’t!


Shut up Charles.

One

More

Step

Taptap.


Well Charles, it certainly has
been interesting. But now it's time for us to say
goodbye.

I gave her a kiss on the forehead and gently brushed
the hair from her face.

She had the most beautiful, soulful brown eyes. They
stared blankly at me, her lipless mouth hanging open. She looked
hungry to me.


Go ahead hun
, wave bye-bye to Mr. Green.

I spat his last name out, not wanting the syllables
to linger on my tongue any longer than necessary.

She wiggled a hand from under her chains in an
attempt to wave. Tears poured from Charles's eyes, mixing with the
blood.

Her chains jingled excitedly
and
I took
one last step forward, raising the bat high over
my head with both hands.


Please God no! Oh
fuck!

He raised his arm to block the blow as I brought the
bat down, smashing into his wrist. A sickening but utterly
satisfying crunch, and a scream. Music to my ears.

Charles had managed to save himself a full blow to
the face and only received a glancing hit to the top of his head,
which split open instantly, spilling fresh blood down his face.

He frantically tried to push himself away from me
with his legs, holding his mangled wrist to his chest. Fresh howls
of pain brought new vigor to my task at hand.


Oh Charles, why did you have to
do that? This could have been over real quick for ya.

I leisurely followed behind him,
bat slung over my shoulder like a regular Major Leaguer, while he
clawed his way towards the door. He looked behind himself and the
terror and pain splattered across his face

Pure eye candy.


You've caused me a lot of grief
Charles.

I brought the bat down again, just
behind his knee cap

A crunch,
a squelch
, more screams
of

Oh God!

And again, this time directly on
his hip bone

The room flickered.

Sort of like how the blank room did... Whatever,
that didn't bother me right now.

I brought the bat up again and heard the pulverized
bones in his hip shift around in places they weren't supposed to
go.

Charles rolled over on his back, not even able to
scream anymore through the excruciating pain. A childish smirk
leaked across my face, I was a kid inside a candy shop. My
excitement was impossible to contain.

Giddily, I hopped over to him and smashed the bat
into him over and over again, the room flickering each time. His
bones snapped and blood spattered everywhere, all over myself, the
walls, the carpet. I would clean it later.

I paused briefly to steal a quick glance at her. I
thought her face had some look of approval on it but it was hard to
tell. I didn't care though. I resumed the beating, cracking his rib
cage with two good heavy swings. I smashed it into his gut, and he
spewed up blood and vomit. The stench of copper and stomach acid
filled the room, nauseating but the adrenaline kept me focused.

Smack!
Another flicker.


That was a good one
Charles!

Splat!
Flicker.


Hooo... Charles you're getting
better and better at this!

Crack!
Flicker.

Squish flicker smack flicker smack
flicker crack flicker splat flicker.

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