"Grandpa's House" - Jesse N. White
Grandpa’s house had too many rules. Kevin’s parents would diligently remind him of those rules every time they visited.
“Don’t look at the neighbors for too long. Don’t wave to them. Don’t play outside after dark. Keep the windows and doors closed at all times. All the windows and doors. Keep all the lights on at all times.”
The list continued, but Kevin got tired of hearing it. Why did they insist on leaving him here at all? He hated it. Who cared about “maintaining the perimeter,” anyway? Whatever that meant.
Besides, what was the point of being on a farm in the middle of nowhere if you couldn’t explore?
They pulled off the highway onto the even quieter backroads and drove another hour to the farm. The sun was setting as they approached the farmhouse.
“Looks like we’re staying the night,” Mom said. Dad nodded in brief assent.
Kevin saw a few tall, dark figures walking among the stalks of corn not far from the road. The neighbors.
Kevin never saw their faces.
“Close your eyes, Kevin,” Mom cautioned. “We’re almost there.”
Kevin sighed and did as he was told. They bumped down the rest of the road and came to a gradual stop. The doors opened and closed; Kevin felt Mom grab him out of his seat and huff as she carried him into the house.
She chuckled and said, “Sweetie, you’re almost too big for me to carry anymore. You can open your eyes now, baby boy.”
Kevin opened his eyes to take in the vista of musty old orange furniture and brown shag carpet. There were so many paintings on the walls that it was almost difficult to see the faded wallpaper beneath. The paintings in Grandpa’s house had always creeped Kevin out. Kevin thought it had something to do with all the red and black streaks that dominated the frames. Supposedly Grandma had painted them. She must have been a scary lady, but Kevin wouldn’t know because he couldn’t remember her.
“I’m not a baby, mom.” Kevin sniffed and rubbed his nose.
“You’ll always be my baby, honey.” Mom grabbed Kevin up in a big bear hug.
Mom was always calling him some pet name. Kevin wriggled himself free of her hug and looked up as Grandpa shuffled into the room. Kevin was always reminded of the cowboys in old movies when he saw his Grandpa.
“Y’all’re cuttin’ it close,” Grandpa grunted as he closed the door behind Kevin’s parents.
A heavy lock clicked and Grandpa placed a metal bar across the door. The grown-ups talked about how they were getting closer, even during the day, and some other things that Kevin didn’t understand or care about. Grandpa’s voice sounded different than Kevin remembered, and he smelled like he hadn’t showered in a while. But, his parents didn’t seem to notice, so Kevin decided it didn’t matter.
“Grandpa, can I go read in my old room now?” Kevin asked as he tugged on his grandpa’s belt.
“Sure, kiddo. Head’n up there,” Grandpa said, then he squatted so his face and Kevin’s were level and winked.
Strange. He’d never done that before.
Kevin couldn’t be sure, but it looked like something was swimming around in Grandpa’s eye. Grandpa turned back and ushered Mom and Dad into another room. Kevin ignored the discomfort he felt at the wink and strange behavior and hurried up the stairs to “his” room. The room was actually the attic of Grandpa’s house. As he opened the door from the stairs into the attic room, he noticed a draft of air and that the lights were off. That also had never happened before. There was a light on in the closet, and as Kevin turned to call to his parents, he noticed the window was broken open, with the boards on the floor.
BANG! Something hit the closet door from the inside at the sound of his voice. The beating on the door continued, and Kevin heard his Grandpa shout from inside the closet, “GET OUT NOW KEVIN! RUN!”
Tall shadows moved in the darkness of the room towards where Kevin stood at the head of the stairs.
Kevin tumbled down the stairs in his hurry to obey his Grandpa’s command. He looked at the opening to the attic as the light in the hall began to flicker.
If that was Grandpa in the closet, then who was down here with Mom and Dad? Kevin thought. A hand that couldn’t be human gripped the edge of the doorway, the light continued to dim. Blackness spread from the hand on the doorway to cover the walls in a web of writhing veins. The black tendrils choked the light even further as they seemed to drain the warmth from the space. Kevin screamed again for his Mom and backed away from the hallway. He could still hear banging from the closet upstairs.
Kevin could not tear his gaze away from the inky figure struggling through the door above him and backed up until he felt his Mom’s shoes. He turned and looked up at his Mom, but he couldn’t see her face. The lights flickered out, and all Kevin saw was a pair of eyes as black as the void.
The world turned cold as Kevin screamed.
About the author: Jesse White is a Georgia-based author who dreams of the American Southwest. An avid reader of steamy romances, mindless poetry, horror fiction, and bad puns, Jesse also loves writing the same. Jesse is a Gemini sun/Libra rising.
21 Grams by M. Regan
We are very excited to announce we have signed author, M. Regan! She wrote a novella that pulled us in with the very first words and never let us go. 21 Grams, will come out in July of 2021.
21 Grams: In the bowels of an unassuming, ever-moving funerary parlor, a mortician known as the Operator hides a fearsome machine called the Godwin, rumored to have the ability to resurrect the dead. It runs, like a soul does, on logos: on words. And in exchange for those words—for a client’s life story—the corpse of their choosing might yet walk again. Careful, though. Words bear weight, so one must choose them wisely. Author M. Regan delivers a harrowing and beautiful glimpse into a world filled with desire, darkness, love, and loss.
M. Regan: M. Regan has been writing for over a decade, with credits ranging from localization work to short stories to podcast scripts. Fascinated by the fears personified by monsters, they enjoy dark fiction, studying supernatural creatures, and traveling to places rich with folklore. Find them on Twitter and Facebook at MReganFiction.