Playing with Fire (Anthology of Horror)
Page 2
An absolute fury bubbled upward from deep inside him and brought with it more recent scenes - brutalized female faces, torn clothing, broken bones, sliced flesh.
This latest mental onslaught crashed against Anna like waves breaking in the surf. The vision drove the breath from her lungs. Swamped by the fear of his victims, the horror threatened to drown all rational thought before she dropped the link to his mind.
The effect was physical and she weakened. The other two males took the advantage and grabbed their victim from behind. They hoisted her off the ground to prevent any leverage against them. For a moment she panicked from the reality of how easily she could be rendered defenseless.
Her prime antagonist gave up the search for the knife. No doubt he could wait until his plaything was more subdued. Anna, however, knew exactly where it was and mentally tagged the position.
His face contorted and twisted with the emotions gnawing at him from within. His eyes, now steely-hard, fixed on her. He approached with deliberation, licking his lips as if savoring his next action. He swore at her. The menace of his raised arm hovered over her.
For the first time since childhood she felt fear. Real fear. It washed through her body, chilling her blood. Its iciness numbed thought and froze muscles.
Despite hidden abilities, Anna was still human, and as a human even a mage could die. It took only one attack not anticipated, one strike not counteracted.
The monster struck her across the face with the back of his hand. The action swift as a striking snake.
He wore a heavy, angular-cut ring. In the forceful swipe, the irregular edges of the jewelry dug into soft skin and caught on her mouth. The cold air stung the jagged gash.
A mage, particularly a proponent of Life, like Anna, knows her body intimately, cell by cell. Her upper lip pulled tight over the injury. She could feel it swelling with each pain-soaked throb. Her tongue probed the open cut. Blood dripped into her mouth. The metallic tang spread across her taste buds, awaking each one to the distinctive flavor. A grim smile tugged at the edges of her damaged mouth. Her eyes, once wide open in anticipation and fear, narrowed as if daring him to try again.
Anna's unprecedented response aggravated the ruffian and prompted him to punch her in the abdomen and chest. No matter how much he pummeled with all the brute strength rage could summon, she continued to goad him with her grin.
Anna had found the proof she required; she no longer felt a need to play at being a victim. His big mistake had been to provide her with the most powerful cornerstone to drawing on her abilities: her blood, supercharged with enhanced life, a focus of her power.
Fists and elbows buffeted Anna's torso. Each blow stung enough to make her wince but the force was not transmitted to cause internal injury. All the training since beginning the study of the magical arts had instilled defenses to strengthen inner fortitude and dissipate the damage.
Without warning a bitter cold draft whistled past her body as it dangled before the storm of blows. A sibilant "Yessss" hissed through the air. Anna concentrated on where the sound originated. A pale image manifested resembling the visage of her friend, the girl who had been the last victim of these thugs. Beneath the veneer of the familiar shape was a core of seething darkness that threatened to consume the whole.
Anna had heard tell of ghosts but never encountered one before. It swooped on one of the people holding her arms and passed right through him. He let go just as their leader was raising his arm for another powerful blow.
Anna mentally reached for the knife where it lay discarded on the street and by will alone threw it at her attacker. The knife flew overhead and buried itself to the hilt in his chest. He died as blood gurgled from his mouth and gushed from the wound. Surprise registered in his eyes before they closed forever.
The remaining two were squabbling over having released their prize. Their irritation towards each other became a full-blown brawl.
The mage had seen enough. There had been no hint of regret, no pause in acts of violence and thoughts of mayhem. Summoning all of her will still enhanced by her dripping blood, Anna once more called on her powers and crushed the air from their lungs.
As they slid to the ground in unison, the ghost of her friend appeared again. A peaceful glow had replaced the dark core of its essence. With the slightest shimmer the image faded from sight.
The bodies, the free flow of blood, the devastation; Anna regretted the waste, necessary though it had been. With luck, the authorities would declare it a gang fight or a falling out among thugs.
The taking of life was abhorrent; however, allowing many others to be ruined was equally intolerable.
Revenge is sweet, they say, but it heats the blood and fires blind action. Justice is a different matter. Justice is best served with a cold, dispassionate embrace.
Table of Contents
Widows of the Night
by
Robynn Gabel
Her skin goose-bumped then shivered at the crawly touch. She scratched furiously, the panic rising. With a deep breath, she tried to escape into the oblivion of sleep. It wasn't going to happen. A whispery brush skittered down her hip. Sitting up, she wrapped her arms around her legs and rocked back and forth. Her eyes struggled to see the hideous thing stalking her; the faint light under the door was useless.
The shiny black creatures, with red hourglasses on their bellies and long legs, haunted her imagination. Shifting on the skimpy blanket she thought of the soft, cottony webs they made, creating in her revulsion of anything soft. Her childhood should have been safe and innocent; instead she was learning about death and monsters.
While the night lingered on, she stood to stretch, wanting to open the closet door
. I would squish them with the blanket if I could see them. Then I could go to sleep, she thought. A tickle on her back sent her hands desperately reaching to scratch, to keep them off so she wouldn't get a deadly bite. Worried that one had fallen from the ceiling where they spun thin threads, her fingers furiously fluffed hair and scratched at her itching scalp.
Panic grew as she rubbed along her arms. She tried to keep them from crawling up her legs by shuffling her feet. The floorboards squeaked in response to the frenzied dance but she couldn't help it. The light shifted under the door, but before she could feign sleep, it opened.
In the bright light she searched for the spiders she feared more than the impending punishment. Reassured she was truly alone, she listened to her mother's rant, head hanging down.
'I told you to be quiet! I don't know what you're doing in here, but I can hear you! I need sleep. I'm going to beat you within an inch of your life if you don't lie down now!' A hand whipped out, gouging into her shoulder, pushing her onto the skimpy blanket.
'I won't be bad again, Mommy. Please let me sleep on the bed; I will be good. Please!' She cowered beneath her mother's angry countenance, hoping she might relent.
'You're staying in here all night and I hope the spiders get you!'
She looked out, seeing her sister staring in fear, before the door closed abruptly. The light dimmed.
***
As she got ready for school, a robin's warble caught her attention outside her bedroom window. Her gaze wandered over the bench built around the large scraggly tree. Paint peeled from its rough surface, showing the gray weathered wood beneath.
Brick planters crumbling with age were filled with scraggly tiger lilies. Lining the edge of the patio, the planters had an opening out to the yellowed lawn.
She loved to play here, her imagination making wild animals out of clouds. When planes flew over, she'd pretend she was on them, flying to adventures in faraway countries. But there was one boundary she never crossed, beyond the brick entryway. The sentinel to the land of the monsters was a gnarled old carcass of a tree. It reached its arms to the sky, begging release from an earthbound grave. On the bark lay sporadic patches of cotton webs: the lairs of those black widows of the night that haunted her nightmares.
&nbs
p; A gray block wall acted as a fence stretching between the two lawns. She sometimes peeked around the dead tree to watch them scurry about. Fearsome neighbors running errands in and out of holes and webs.
Hunching her shoulders, she headed to the kitchen. Picking up a spoon, she stirred reluctantly at the soggy cereal her mother made earlier. Her stomach turned as she tried to eat the mush.
Why does my Mommy go back to bed and leave me all alone to get ready for school?
***
When she got to school, she slid into the wooden seat. Smoothing her hand over the shiny desktop, a smile crossed her wan face. No crawly things here, just fun things to learn.
The teacher announced, 'Class, we're going to study the world of bugs!'
The boys cheered, the girls moaned but she found her stomach turning
. No, anything but them, she thought, the night before still vivid in her mind.
'Insects are beneficial to the ecosystem. We'll be studying their habitats, what they eat, and how they produce young.'
She listened, learning caterpillars turned into butterflies. The transformation idea captured her imagination for the rest of the day. Then the bell rang and it was the time she dreaded most--going home.
The house was the last on the block, before the frontage road. The yard was full of dried out grass, looking forlorn against the manicured lawn next to it. A little tree valiantly produced a crop of small, wormy, yellow-red apples.
The tiny white worms caught her interest; she wondered if they would turn into beautiful, winged butterflies. Opening the front door, she listened, trying to figure out where her mother was. All was quiet except for the low tinny voice coming from the TV. Survival depended on her being able to assess her mother's mood quickly. This kept her from stumbling into or provoking any rages. No noise came from the bedroom either, which meant everyone was napping.
Sliding onto the worn couch she listened to the ever-noisy TV, finally curling up for a nap. The hair on the back of her neck stood up in warning. She glanced up warily; her mother's bleary eyes and usual frown stared back at her.
'Haven't I told you a million times to change your school clothes when you get home? Do you think I like hearing myself talk?'
She knew better than to answer; jumping up, she scurried to her room to comply. Her sister glanced up from the Barbie fest she had going on. From the look of all the doll clothes strewn about, it had been quite the fashion show.
Dinner time arrived and she picked at the dried, tacky macaroni and cheese. Her sister knocked over her milk, causing her mother to rage.
'You're the most stupid, clumsy klutz I've ever seen! Can't you even reach for a glass without bumping it! Clean it all up, you idiot!'
She leaped out of the chair to the rescue, stepping on her mother's foot, earning a kick. She wasn't fast enough.
Her mother reached down, grabbed her sister's arm, and dragged her away to the bedroom. The slam of the closet door and the terrified wail echoed throughout the house.
The pitiful cries caused her chest to tighten; tears threatened to overflow.
Why can't Mommy understand she is too little? She could die if the spiders bite her, she thought, feeling protective towards her only sister. It was one thing for her to fight off monsters, but her little sister couldn't. She bit her lip, burying herself in her book.
At bedtime her sister was allowed to sleep in their bed. It was a mattress covered in a mound of dirty, scratchy blankets that they burrowed under.
'There's a magic spell around the bed; nothing can climb up to get us,' she told her, putting her thin arms around her sister.
Together we are safe from monsters, was her last sleepy thought.
Glancing out the window, she saw soft fog wrapping the world outside. She put her bowl in the sink, picking up her book bag. On the way to school her mood lightened. She stretched her fingers out to touch the vaporous cotton.
I like this. It's safe, she thought happily. The cool, misty moisture left damp kisses on her cheeks. As she walked closer, cars, trees and houses made their appearances like in a magic show. She closed her eyes for a moment. I'm walking in clouds, with sunshine and blue sky around me. She listened, and the fog muted everything in sight and sound--she loved the hushed quiet. Suddenly the school loomed large in the gray mist.
The teacher opened with, 'I want you all to bring an insect tomorrow to class. Ask your mom or dad to help you catch one and put it in a jar.'
A knot formed in her stomach
, I wish I knew who my dad was. After watching her classmates with their dads, she wondered what it was like to have one.
Oh! And catching an insect will not make Mommy happy. How can I do this? My teacher doesn't know how hard it is to do these things by myself . There are empty jars in the trashcans behind the cafeteria , but where can I get a bug ?
After school, walking home, she searched in bushes, grass, and in the cracks of the sidewalks. By the time she got there an idea had formed.
The little white worms will do. I can grab one of those rotted ones off the ground and put into a jar.
Her mother gathered the wormy apples, planning on making applesauce. She appeared happy for a change.
"I hate these pesky bugs and leaves getting into my hair. Go to my bedroom and get the scarf hanging on the chair," she gruffly requested.
Her mother's bedroom window faced the gray wall. The aged weather-stripping let air, dirt and the occasional spider through the gap. Her heart stopped; perched on the window ledge was a shiny black monster.
Wow , my teacher will be impressed , but how do I catch it?
Her mind churned, and her heart pounded loudly. Pulling a jar out of her book bag, she took off the lid. While she knew it couldn't bite through the glass, her hand still trembled. Down the jar went, opening first. The black widow used its front two legs to tap at the glass gently. The spider scurried to the other side, rearing up, touching the surface, testing its boundaries.
She slid a sheet of paper carefully under the opening. With a little gasp she flipped over the jar. The spider slid down the side of the glass to rest at the bottom. Even with the glass barrier between her and the monster, she didn't want to put her hand on the bottom of the jar. Her fingers turned beet-red trying to keep the top of the jar firmly in her grasp. She slapped the lid on, screwed it down quickly, and crept furtively to her bedroom. Opening a dresser drawer she pushed dirty clothes aside, making a pocket to nestle the jar in. Closing the drawer firmly gave her peace that the captive was snug and she was safe from the black nightmare.
Hearing glass break in the next room she ran, finding her sister standing next to a broken jar. Applesauce oozed over the linoleum floor. Frantically she whispered, 'What did you do?' Scared, her sister stared at her, having no chance to answer before their mother came in.
Her mother asked in a harsh voice, "Who broke it?"
She stole a quick glance at her cringing sister before making up her mind. 'I did,' she said.
Why can't my sister be more careful? She thought irritably as the closet door opened. Her gaze scoured every inch, looking for any sign of the black monsters. Nothing but peeling wallpaper met her anxious gaze.
Her mother stood behind her, waiting. Meanness edged her voice, 'A black widow bite can kill a child. They're all over this old house. They can squeeze through any crack. Hope you live through the night.' The door slammed behind her.
She'd heard this before. She curled into a ball, ignoring the rumblings of her stomach.
I wish I could fly away from here, like a bird.
She tried to sleep but her mind betrayed her. She started thinking about the monster trapped in the drawer.
What if my sister finds the jar and opens it? She listened to the sounds in the house. All was quiet except for the distant voice of the TV in the front room. By the theme song playing she knew her mother's favorite program was on. She might be able to....
Her heart pounded as she twisted the knob . Carefull
y she opened the door so the hinges wouldn't betray her with their squeal . Stealthily, she retrieved the jar and checked the lid, still not daring to touch the bottom. She darted back to the closet with the monster , and closed the door behind her.
After putting the jar in the far corner she sat, hugging her knees. What if the monster made noises only other spiders hear and they came to its rescue? She imagined in the darkness hundreds of them moving down the walls, creeping towards her. Her skin tingled, prickled, and itched. She rubbed, scratched, and shook out her hair. Their invisible touch again and again tapped her, tears flooding down.
I can't let Mommy hear me; I will really get it if she hears me crying.
The ghostly touches on her skin faded when she pulled the blanket over her. Exhausted, she fell asleep sometime during the night.
Her mother didn't get up to make her cereal the next morning. This meant a morning of no breakfast after a night of no dinner. Her stomach churned, trying to turn itself inside out with pain.
At least I can get the jar out of the house without her seeing it.
She recognized the pure terror on the teacher's face when she presented her monster.
'This is an extremely dangerous spider! How on earth did you find this, let alone capture one?' She watched her teacher's worried eyes skim over her, looking for any sign of distress. 'Did the spider bite you?'
She shook her head and bit her bottom lip.
Did I do something wrong? Will they tell my mom? It seemed like a good idea yesterday.
'Why did you bring this particular spider, honey? Didn't your parents explain that it's dangerous?' the teacher persisted.
In misery she looked down. 'I wanted to know about them, they're all over our back wall, and I....' Her voice trailed off.
Hesitating for a moment, the teacher decided. 'Well this is a spider you all need to learn about. Class, don't ever, ever try to pick up or play with a spider that looks like this. They're dangerous and poisonous.' The teacher kept a safe distance from the monster that sat on her desk.