The Horror Emporium: A Horror Anthology

by K. A Knight

  We both cover our eyes, blinking the water away as we try to see, stumbling away from the tunnel. He drops me to my feet and I fall to my knees instantly, grabbing at the grass and coughing up what feels like my lungs.

  Kadian is doing the same next to me, and I wipe my mouth and get to my feet, looking back at the green vines covering the hidden entrance in the side of what looks like a mansion. Swivelling my head, I spot the forest surrounding the property—not the city like I thought then. We are in the middle of nowhere.

  He must know we have escaped, and he will be coming after us.

  “Kadian, we have to go,” I whisper in a cracked voice, grabbing his arm.

  He coughs again before nodding, getting up, and letting me tug him to the trees. Our steps speed up as we move through them, branches cutting our cheeks as we pass until we’re running, putting distance between us and the madman, hoping he won’t find us.

  A shot rings out behind us, followed by a laugh and I duck, letting out a sob, but Kadian grabs my arm and forces me to carry on. “Don’t look back, zigzag,” he instructs me through his pants.

  The sound of shots increases, and I can actually feel them whizzing through the air, too close for comfort as he hunts us through his back garden. He knows where to go, we don’t, we’re just running aimlessly, trying to escape him.

  My lungs scream for air and I stumble into a tree, my good arm holding me up as I watch Kadian race ahead, not realising I’ve stopped. I try to scream his name, but I can’t, too busy sucking in air.

  Keep moving! I tell myself

  Pushing off the tree, I force one foot in front of the other. A bullet wedges in the trunk I was just leaning against and I throw myself forward into a run, my eyes on Kadian’s back just ahead of me and to the left.

  Come on, Natashia, you can do this, I urge myself.

  I nearly trip over a root but throw myself forward again, catching myself on the ground, and a scream sounds from ahead. I snap my head up and I watch as Kadian falls, blood blooming on his back from where he was just shot.

  I let out a sob as I get back to my feet and carry on running, not stopping to check him when more bullets sound from behind me.

  “Oh, little mouse, it’s just you and me!” he calls.

  Keep going, keep moving.

  I repeat it again and again. Trees pass in a blur and my body is on fire, yet I keep moving. Something glints in the sunlight ahead, catching my eye.

  Is that a road?

  Running through the forest, I spot the tell-tale marks of the white painted sections in the middle. It is! It’s a road. Oh thank fuck, I’m so close, I’m almost there. I can flag down help or follow it to civilization, maybe even a house or a city.

  I’m going to make it.

  I’m going to make it.

  Pain races down my legs as they give way under me. Screaming, I look down to see a knife sticking out of my tendons. Reaching down, I pull it out, screaming as I do and toss it away into the woods.

  I hear the approaching boots of our captor and quiet my screams, biting down on my lips to stifle the sound as I grab the nearest tree trunk to try and get to my feet, only to groan and fall, my legs jelly.

  Fuck, fuck—

  “Little mouse, where are you?” he calls mockingly, his voice echoing in the forest as if coming from all directions. Like they can sense a predator, the birds quiet as all life apart from us hides.

  Fuck.

  Grabbing at the long strands of grass, leaves cracking under my weight, I drag myself along the uneven ground while focusing on the road I can almost glimpse in front go me.

  I will be free.

  Fuck this man.

  “I see you, little mouse. You can’t escape me!” I hear him call, close behind me.

  Letting out a cry, I drag myself faster and faster, almost touching the cement of the road when I feel him stab me in the back.

  Agony, pure agony races through me as I’m pinned to the ground, floating between reality and shock.

  “Oh, little mouse, how hard you fought. You’re my favourite,” he taunts above me, as the knife is twisted and then pulled out of my body, making me scream again.

  I must lose consciousness, because the next thing I know is pain rocking through my body as I’m dragged. Opening my eyes, I spot trees passing as I’m pulled along the ground like a deer he just hunted.

  He whistles as he walks, not the least bit bothered as tears roll down my cheeks. My body is going cold and numb, I can feel myself already fading away. No! I can’t die, not here, not now. I need to stop this man, get to the police.

  Lucien.

  Kadian.

  Valerie.

  Dorris.

  Miguel.

  Lewis.

  Cameron.

  I need to let people know what happened to them, their families and friends. How hard they fought. I need to avenge them. Grabbing his leg, I turn my head and bite down hard, ripping through jeans and into skin. He yells and lets go of me, before reaching down and punching me in the face.

  My head rocks to the side, my eyes blackening as he grunts in pain. “Wrong move, little mouse,” he snaps, before reaching back down, grabbing my long hair, and using it to drag me again.

  The strands pull from my head, agony mixing with the pain already floating through my body as I fight and kick, each one slower than before.

  Air whistles next to me as I leave the ground, only to be thrown onto something soft and hard. My eyes take in the scene, my mind screaming at me, but I’m unable to open my mouth anymore.

  I’m in an open grave.

  The soil is high like cliffs on either side, blocking me in and almost dotting out the light. Tree roots poke out like bones and worms wiggle through the dirt, making their way into the darkness of the earth.

  My eyes roll about, the only thing I can move anymore, taking in the mass of bodies down here…is that what I’m lying on?

  My body is paralyzed from either my injuries or the death I can feel reaching for me. Oh fuck, there are so many bodies.

  I stop on a charred one, one brown eye still visible, his mouth open and locked in death.

  Lucien.

  The sob sticks in my throat as I stare at him, unable to look away as I feel myself fading away, death taking hold of me. A wail traps in my throat as I roll my eyes up to the grave’s edge, meeting the eyes of the man responsible for all this death.

  My death, the one I can feel looming.

  “Game over.” He grins, flashing white teeth at me as he throws back his hood, showing me his face just as darkness starts to edge my vision. He grabs a shovel and dirt hits me from above as I slowly die. I stop fighting it, letting myself sink into the waiting darkness.

  It’s over, I have nothing else to give.

  I was doomed from the start—his plan, his game.

  It was all organised, nothing we did was going to make a difference, and now I will never be found. Left down here to rot with his other victims.

  Our bodies hidden below.

  Misery Loves Co

  Poppy Woods

  Chapter 1

  Atropos

  I narrow my eyes on the tiny human houses as we pull down the street. Lachesis had assured me—repeatedly—these homes are moderately sized for the human world. My teeth dig into my bottom lip as I realize precisely how much I disagree. The Underworld had grown boring a long time ago. The gods are selfish, Hades most of all. Every hundred years, one of us chooses somewhere new to live. For this cycle, Lachesis had chosen the state of Alabama. My eyes slide from the window to my sisters in the front seat.

  "Are you still pouting, sister?" Clotho sings from the driver’s seat. She has always been the chipper one between us.

  "Don't tease her," Lachesis sighs.

  "Yes, don't tease me." I cross my arms over my chest as we turn into the driveway to our new home.

  "It was Lachesis' turn to choose where we live, Atropos." Clotho clips the words out in a way that sounds almost mate
rnal.

  I open my mouth to tell her I am aware it is our sister's turn to choose, but I'm confused by the choice of a human, suburban neighborhood. There are many more interesting things to do on this plane—even this continent—than pretend to be human in Alabama. I click my mouth shut, attempting to swallow my distemper.

  Crash!

  I blink my eyes as glass shards fly against my face and chest. Clotho visibly jumps and Lachesis lets out a tiny—very nonthreatening—shriek. I dust the tiny sharp inconveniences from my clothes and turn to my right to face the source of this mess.

  A small human child stands covering her mouth with one hand, a baseball glove hanging from the other. Her eyes widen with shock as she looks at the destruction she caused.

  "And you thought this was a good idea," I mutter to the two bitties in the front seat. Even if we all appear to be in our forties to humans, I know how old we are. Ageless sounds appealing to human women, but when you feel eons old no matter what form you take, everything can be tiring. I arch my brow and picture the child's cord in my mind.

  "Atrop—Attie, what are you doing?" Clotho hisses quietly from the front seat.

  "Nothing." I don't even bother putting effort into the lie as I pull the cord into my hands and roll it between my fingers.

  "I'm sorry ma'am!" The little girl quickly turns around and runs across the yard, toward a group of children who are staring at us in fear. Their movements seemed synchronized as they all run farther away from our new home. I shuddered at the idea of a hive of mindless children-drones living around the corner.

  At least they have the right idea. I pull on the thick cord and lick my lips, trying to ignore the sound of my sisters turning around in their seats.

  "You're not seriously considering ending a child because of a stupid mistake we can fix as soon as the moon rises." Clotho sounds annoyed.

  "Of course not," I murmur, pinching the cord in a certain spot before tucking it away once again.

  "I saw that." Lachesis slams open her door and marches toward our new home.

  I shrug, swinging my door open. Another round of glass falls onto the ground beside the car and I sigh. This was going to be rough. At least I wouldn't have to worry about that child breaking anything else.

  "What did you do, Atropos?" Clotho has somehow managed to get around the car and into my face before I can even gain sure footing.

  "Nothing important. It's one little whelp."

  "She's not even the one who hit the ball! She was meant to catch it—"

  "And didn't! And now, I'm covered in glass." I glance into the distance at the group of children, narrowing my eyes on the little girl one last time. In the next few minutes, she will be getting hit by a car. I smirk at the irony.

  "You're immortal and invincible," Clotho sighs. "A few errant shards of glass aren't going to do you any harm, sister. What's done is done, I suppose. Let's go inside. I don't want to witness whatever it is you've arranged to happen to the poor child."

  I incline my head respectfully to my sister, but inwardly I smile. The truth of the matter is, there's nothing they can do to alter what I've done. Each of us have our power and only that power. We have no control over our sisters’. We never have.

  I follow Clotho into the house, noticing the stone around the doorway and the big window for the first time. The house *was* pretty, if tiny.

  I cross my legs at the table, picking through the pasta on my plate.

  Clotho sits at the head of the table, spinning new cords. These are the children of tomorrow, souls that haven't even entered this strange plane yet. Where Clotho spins the cords, determining what sort of character each of the souls waiting to be born will be made of, Lachesis is responsible for laying it out. The Greeks did her wrong when they tried to explain our existence. They made it seem like she measures the length of a life, which she doesn't do. She crosses the lines, weaving them together. Families, friendships, romances, and networks are made by the patterns that Lachesis sees.

  My only responsibility is cutting the cord at the right time. The Greeks got that right, at least, even if they had made it seem like I needed shears to end a life.

  Outside, brakes squeal and children scream.

  I look to the window, trying to swallow my smile. Maybe I've gotten petty in my old age, I think as I return to my chicken florentine. Lachesis and I never agree on anything, but she is an amazing cook. I swallow the last bite of chicken and push the plate away, satisfied. Rising from my chair, I incline my head respectfully to each of my sisters. Climbing the stairs with a lighter heart, I start to wonder what I'll do here for the next hundred years. A knock at the door halts my steps at the top of the stairs.

  I turn toward the intrusive sound only to find Lachesis zooming to the door.

  "I bet someone's bringing us a pie," she squeals, her hand closing on the door knob.

  I cross my arms over my chest, leaning my thin frame against the banister. I don't like humans much, but I do love a good pie. I'd at least stick around to see what was happening.

  "Hello!" Lachesis beams as she swings the door wide open.

  Clotho comes behind her, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear as she greets the family standing in our doorway.

  They look like any other poor group of humans. The father is tall, but not too tall, with creamy skin and dark features. The mother strikes me as the exact opposite. A short, teeny tiny woman who looked obviously Asian in every way except her eyes. Where I'd expected to see dark eyes, two blazing blue diamonds stare back at us.

  As interesting as her eyes are, my eyes fall down her arms to the child whose shoulders she's clasping, holding the miscreant against her middle. The curly black hair and those blue eyes slap me in the face as I realize this is the child who we'd met earlier.

  "Hello! I'm sorry to bother you, I know you've just moved in." The mother pushes the child toward my sisters and I cock an eyebrow. "Go ahead now, tell them what you told me and your daddy."

  The little girl visibly swallows, nodding her head as she braces herself for whatever it is that she's about to say.

  "I'm really sorry I ran off when we broke your window. I was supposed to catch the ball and we're not supposed to hit towards any of the houses anyway. I'm really sorry ma'am." The young girl pushes her thick curly hair out of her face, puffing up her lips to blow out air. She looks terrified.

  I can't decide if that's from whatever just happened outside, or if she's scared of us.

  "Good job, Misery." The father ruffles her hair and holds out a hand. "I'm Joe and this is Leanna. We're happy to pay for any damages to the car. Kids, ya know?" He turns his hand over in the air, waiting for a handshake, I presume.

  "Oh!" Lachesis grabs his hand with both of hers and shakes it rapidly. "I'm Lacy, this is Clo, and our other sister is Attie. It's no trouble at all, really. We have insurance."

  "Yes!" Clotho pulls Lachesis back from the poor humans and offers her own hand. "It's very nice to meet you. Accidents happen! Speaking of, I thought we heard a car wreck outside a few minutes ago. Is everyone alright?"

  I take a step down the stairs, my hand gliding down the banister as the world in front of me fades away. This is my domain. Cords stretch across nothing for as far as my eyes can see. Silver, gold, and copper catch my eye. Each cord is different; some are thick, some thin, and some fray in certain spots. Taking a deep breath, I reach for the cord binding this little girl to this plane. I pull it from the Ether and examine it in my hands, knowing full well it should be severed by now. My fingers slide along the cord until I reach the indention I'd placed in it. The marker is intact, my intent still flowing through the cord with malice. Yet, the cord stretches on. I tug at it, pulling more and more of its length out of the Ether and growl under my breath.

  With a quick shake of my head, the stairway comes into view again. Taking the steps two at a time until I reach the bottom, I narrow my eyes on the little girl.

  Her father looks from my sisters to me, his
demeanor visibly shifting to the defensive.

  "Apparently, Misery and her friends still thought it was a good idea to play in the road. Misery was running to catch a ball and nearly got hit by a car."

  The young girl looks up to her mother, wincing at the change in her tone.

  "That's how we found out about what happened with your car, ladies. We heard the tires squealing and ran outside to check on the kids, just to find Misery talking to Chipper Jones."

  "What's a Chipper Jones?" My eyes are locked on the child in front of me. I'm trying not to give away how unnerved I am to see her in such good condition.

  "A famous baseball player for the Braves! He and his wife were in the car that almost hit Misery. We came out to see her talking to Chipper and there he was, explaining how to adjust your run to catch a ball. We overheard her mention if she'd known that, maybe she wouldn't have let your window get broken . . . "

  "I'm sorry I broke your window!" Misery interrupts. I can tell she means it, but why is she alive? There’s no reason this nobody human should be standing in front of me, annoying me.

  "It's okay," Clotho assures the child, leaning against the door and closing it a little more every time she speaks.

  "Well, welcome to the neighborhood. And again, we're sorry. You ladies have a good night, now!" The father—Joe, is that what he said?—turns around first and pulls lightly on Misery's hair before she turns with him.

  The mother offers one last apologetic smile before she follows her family down the driveway and across the street into their home.

  Clotho closes the door and locks it, turning to me with a raised eyebrow. "You had a change of heart?"

  "Of course not," I hiss, tossing the cord in her direction to inspect. "The car should have killed her. Instead, it sounds like she met her idol. What in Hades is going on in this place?"

  "I'm not sure," Clotho hums as she pulls on the cord, glancing at the indention I'd made in it earlier this evening. "I can't say I'm upset you failed."