Honey dropped the hammer. It bounced off the hood and clattered onto the garage floor. She yawned. "I'm going back to bed," she said. "Just let yourself go and totally get it over with. No offense, but it looks like you didn't have much to live for anyway, right?"
"And you're young. You're going to be a star," Jack said.
Honey searched his beaten face for sarcasm. Jacked forced a nod. "I can understand that, Honey," he said. "You're probably right."
"That's so cool," she said. "Good night, then."
"Wait. Can I have the pain pills?"
Honey considered. Finally she shook her head and walked back to the steps. "You know what? I really need them for myself, to come down. I have to get some sleep."
"Please. It hurts, Honey. Please."
Honey hesitated. "All right," she said. "I don't want you to think I'm, like, heartless, or anything. You said you were thirsty. You can finish my tequila. Will that help?"
A harsh spasm rolled through him. For a moment Jack thought it was over, but the hurt subsided. "I'm thirsty," he whispered. "Yes."
Honey picked up the quart bottle. She approached, swinging her hips, bent over the hood and held it to his lips. Jack drank like an animal, ignoring the pain, until he felt the welcome heat of the alcohol hit his stomach. He put away enough to quench his thirst—and dull his agony for a while. He closed his eyes. Honey patted his head. She sounded like a vet about to put down an old dog.
"Good night sweet prince," she said. Then added: "That's Shakespeare."
"Violent delights," Jack whispered. It came out sounding like something else entirely, almost gibberish. He could feel himself slipping away, and his own fear lessened. Maybe dying isn't so bad after all.
"What?" Honey said. He sensed her leaning closer, hoping to hear something profound. He whispered again, almost inaudibly.
"I can't hear you," Honey said, sadly.
Jack used his remaining strength to seize the ponytail with his right hand and the shard of broken glass with his left. He cut her scalp and blood spurted down her cheek. Honey screamed and struggled. Jack giggled. He felt something warm spurt from his nostrils. Honey was athletic and strong for her size. She struck his shoulder with the empty tequila bottle: Once, twice. Jack held on and then cut her scalp again. She howled with pain and fear as some tender flesh peeled away. The bottle slipped from her hand and clattered to the floor.
"No, don't!" Honey cried.
Jack grunted with pleasure. He slammed her head down on the hood. Dazed, Honey looked up as if about to beg for mercy. She saw that the remainder of Jack's cheek had been ripped completely away; his white skull and yellowed, grinning teeth were fully exposed. Honey, looking into his bulging, merciless eyes, shrieked like a young girl at a rock concert.
"Please don't hurt me any more!"
Jack giggled and heard that odd rattle again, deep in his chest. He took a deep breath. With his bloody left hand, he began to peel away the skin of her pretty, pretty face, all the while chanting aloud in a hoarse, cracked voice: "Child, what you fear will come to get you, in the night, that's right…" He was halfway finished when he died.
Honey lived.
HARRY SHANNON
Harry Shannon has been an actor, an Emmy-nominated songwriter, a recording artist, music publisher, VP at Carolco Pictures and a Music Supervisor on "Basic Instinct" and "Universal Soldier." His novels include "Night of the Beast," "CLAN," "Daemon," "Dead and Gone," "The Hungry" and "The Hungry 2" (both with Steven W. Booth)" and "The Pressure of Darkness," as well as the Mick Callahan suspense novels "Memorial Day," "Eye of the Burning Man," "One of the Wicked," and "Running Cold." He has won the Tombstone for Best Novel and the Dark Scribble from Dark Scribe magazine. His short story "Night Nurse" and the collection "A Host of Shadows" were nominated for the Stoker Award by the Horror Writer's Association. Readers may contact him on Facebook or via email at www.harryshannon.com. All of his works are now available as ebooks and he would love for you to buy them all.
Copyright © 2012 Harry Shannon
Cover and Interior Design by Steven W. Booth, www.GeniusBookServices.com
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from the author.
Table of Contents
DARK THOUGHTS
CONTENTS
ARANEIDA
ROAD KILL
THE EASY WAY
THE SECOND DEATH
VIOLENT DELIGHTS
HARRY SHANNON
Table of Contents
DARK THOUGHTS
CONTENTS
ARANEIDA
ROAD KILL
THE EASY WAY
THE SECOND DEATH
VIOLENT DELIGHTS
HARRY SHANNON
Dark Thoughts Page 6