by Lukens, Mark
A DARK COLLECTION:
12 Scary Stories
By
MARK LUKENS
A Dark Collection: 12 Scary Stories – copyright © 2014 – Mark Lukens
All Rights Reserved
No part of this book may be reprinted without written permission from the author.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead (or any other form), business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover Design by: Damonza.com
This book is dedicated to my wife, son, and my family.
Acknowledgements:
The first people I want to thank are my wife and son and my family (my mother and stepfather, my dad and stepmother, my sister and her kids). They’ve been so supportive through the years. I’m sure there are many writers who have persevered in a negative environment, and I applaud them. But I’m so thankful to have been in a positive environment throughout the years and I thank you!
I would also like to thank the editors of the magazines where a few of these stories have appeared before. Dennis Kirk was the editor of OUTER DARKNESS MAGAZINE, and he was the first person to ever accept a short story from me (The Tank—included in this collection), and I’ll never forget it. I guess a writer never forgets the first time seeing his or her work in print. I’d also like to thank Kenny Crist and A.M. Stickel, editors of BLACK PETALS MAGAZINE who accepted a few of my stories in the early years of my writing, one of which I’ve included in this dark collection (Squish). I wonder if these editors realize how much they help a struggling writer in the beginning by building up his or her confidence just enough to keep them going just by seeing their story in print. Black Petals is still around and I hope you will visit their website (www.blackpetals.net). They are entirely on the web now. I’m not sure if Outer Darkness is still around, I’ve looked for the magazine but I couldn’t find it. But Dennis, if you’re reading this, thank you so much for accepting my first story.
Also, I’d like to thank Damonza.com for the wonderful covers they’ve done for all of my books so far, both in print and on Kindle. They’ve never let me down. I’d also like to thank Dellaster Design for their great formatting of this work.
And lastly, I’d like to thank all of the readers who have purchased my work and made my dream of becoming a published author come true. And thanks to all of you who have left reviews—the feedback helps more than you know.
OTHER BOOKS BY MARK LUKENS
ANCIENT ENEMY www.amazon.com/dp/B00FD4SP8M
DESCENDANTS OF MAGIC www.amazon.com/dp/B00FWYYYYC
THE SUMMONING www.amazon.com/dp/B00HNEOHKU
NIGHT TERRORS www.amazon.com/dp/B00M66IU3U
GHOST TOWN: A NOVELLA www.amazon.com/dp/B00LEZRF7G
SIGHTINGS www.amazon.com/dp/B00B00VAI31KW
THE EXORCIST’S APPRENTICE – Coming Soon
DEVIL’S ISLAND – Coming Soon
Table of Contents
INTRODUCTION: A LIFELONG LOVE OF SHORT STORIES
JANUARY - CROW MANOR
FEBRUARY - FEARS OF TORTURE
MARCH - SQUISH
APRIL - PURGATORY
MAY - A KNOCK IN THE NIGHT
JUNE - THE CLOSET MONSTER
JULY - THE TANK
AUGUST - WELCOME TO PARADISE
SEPTEMBER - SKINWALKERS
OCTOBER - THE SPIRIT OF HALLOWEEN
NOVEMBER - RATTRAP
DECEMBER - THE VENDING MACHINE AUTHOR’S NOTE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
INTRODUCTION:
A LIFELONG LOVE OF SHORT STORIES
I grew up in a lower income and gigantic trailer park near Daytona Beach, Florida during the late seventies and nineteen eighties. I don’t want to make it sound like I struggled through a terrible childhood because I didn’t. Actually, I had a great time as a kid. We never had cable TV, a microwave oven, or a VCR growing up, but we had plenty of friends outside in the trailer park and there were always books in the house to read.
My mother and father weren’t voracious readers, but they were definitely readers—especially sci-fi. And it was on that bookshelf in the living room where I found a book of science fiction short stories that made me sure, even at eight or nine years old, that I wanted to be a writer.
That book was called 18 Greatest Science Fiction Stories. I skipped around in the book, reading what interested me the most at first, but I eventually read every story in there. There were a few stories that stuck in my mind for a long time after reading them: The Cold Equations by Tom Godwin (a gut-wrenching story), It’s a Good Life, by Jerome Bixby, and The Veldt by Ray Bradbury.
This Ray Bradbury guy—after reading that story I knew I had to find everything I could by him. I found The Illustrated Man and other collections of his stories. From there I moved on to Dandelion Wine and to Something Wicked This Way Comes which is still one of my all-time favorite books from my childhood (along with A Wrinkle in Time and The Three Investigators series of books).
So I started writing my own stories, and they were complete rip-offs of Bradbury’s (and a few others) work. My first short story collection at the age of twelve even had a character very similar to the Lightning Rod Salesman from Something Wicked This Way Comes who introduced each story in my collection.
Okay, that collection did not get published, and I promise that none of those first attempts are included here in this collection.
From Ray Bradbury, I went on to discover other authors. When I was in the eighth grade, a friend told me about a writer named Stephen King. I went to our (at that time) tiny library which was across the street from our trailer park; the library was squeezed into a small retail space next to a Walgreens and a Winn-Dixie (but the library has since been moved to a large building of its own now). I only found a few books by Stephen King in there, and I chose to read Christine first. I was hooked. I read ‘Salem’s Lot next and then The Dead Zone.
And then I read Night Shift.
Ah, I was back to a book of short stories, and Stephen King’s stories were as great as his novels. And I wrote more stories of my own, but now King’s work was influencing my stories as much as Bradbury’s had been (and probably still was at that time). I even wrote a story similar to Children of the Corn called Don’t Cut Through the Cornfield. My friend laughed at the title and wouldn’t even read the story, but he teased me about that stupid title forever (since that time we’ve written two books together).
In the next few years I remember getting a copy of Skeleton Crew for Christmas. I slept in the living room of our trailer at that time (around fifteen years old) because I’d thrown out my rickety old bed and replaced it with a weight bench. Besides, the living room was the only room with an air conditioner in it—a noisy wall unit above the couch. I stayed awake late that Christmas Eve (we always opened our presents on Christmas Eve—long story why), lying on the floor on top of a bed sheet reading The Raft. I fell asleep afterwards and had a vivid dream that I was floating on a raft in the middle of that lake with the dark creature floating around somewhere near me.
I didn’t do so well in high school; I skipped a lot of classes. I knew I wasn’t going to make it into college so when I was almost eighteen years old I moved to Orlando with my girlfriend. I worked a variety of jobs, mostly construction, but I was always reading.
While living in Orlando, I received a catalogue in the mail that offered free books if I signed up to buy a few more over the next few years (kind of like they used to do with CDs, which I signed up for year after year). I was in heaven—free books! I studied the cat
alogue for days and finally made my decisions. I can’t remember every book I ordered, but I remember a few of them (some of which I still have to this day). One was called Last of the Breed by Louis L’Amour and the other one I remember was a collection of horror stories—one for each state in America (including the District of Columbia). The collection was called A Treasury of American Horror Stories, and in my opinion it’s one of the finest collections of horror (or any genre) of stories ever assembled. Of course my favorite author had a story in there (representing Nebraska instead of Maine), but it was a story I’d already read—Children of the Corn. But this book introduced me to new writers, some of whom I’d either never heard of or had never read before: Ambrose Bierce, Richard Matheson, Robert Bloch, John D. MacDonald, William F. Nolan, Manly Wade Wellman. And some of the stories from each state really stuck in my mind for years afterwards: Arizona, Florida, Montana, New Jersey, Ohio, Oregon, and Texas.
This collection opened my eyes. I was busy with construction work (which would continue for years), but what I really wanted to be was a writer. And to learn to write, I knew I had to read even more than I already was. I had to discover new authors and read other genres besides mostly horror and science fiction.
Through those next years I read a lot of short story collections. What better way to discover new writers than a book full of stories. And some of these books are a part of my memories of certain places and times in my life. When I travelled through Europe at nineteen years old, I had a paperback copy of Yondering with me by Louis L’Amour. When I lived in New York City for three months at twenty years old, helping to remodel the Marriot near Times Square, I had two books of horror stories with me (one of the collections contained stories about cannibalism—and one of those stories has always stayed with me because it was so original and unexpected, but I can’t remember the title of the story or the author). I also remember buying one of The Who’s CDs (Who’s Next) and those songs still take me back to my time in New York City.
I moved back down to Florida and I read more Stephen King (still haven’t stopped). I read Different Seasons, Four Past Midnight, and Nightmares and Dreamscapes. I read The Books of Blood by Clive Barker and thought they were amazing. I read Blue World by Robert McCammon which introduced me to his novels and to one of the greatest writers of horror (or anything) I’ve ever read. I read Strange Highways by Dean Koontz and loved it. I read a book called October Dreams when my wife, son, and I lived in Ohio. I read Stalking the Nightmare by Harlan Ellison. I read Everything’s Eventual by King. Prime Evil was a great collection. Thrillers and Thrillers II were good collections; I loved Preston and Child’s story at the end of the first collection. And that story led me to their novels: Thunderhead and Riptide, and then eventually to their Pendergast series (which I got my sister hooked on).
I read collections of classic short stories from America and from around the world. Some of those stories have stayed with me: Nightfall by Isaac Asimov, The Sentinel by Arthur C. Clarke, The Lottery by Shirley Jackson, The Cask of Amontillado by Poe, Mr. Clubb and Mr. Cuff by Peter Straub, Beggars in Spain by Nancy Kress (I know this is probably more like a novella or short book, but it was still amazing). I read stories by Jack London, H.P. Lovecraft, Aldous Huxley, Graham Greene, O Henry, Nathanial Hawthorne, David Morrell, and Joyce Carol Oats. And there are so many other authors I would’ve loved to have mentioned here (some of my favorites of all time like Larry McMurtry and Michael Crichton) but this is a collection of dark tales.
Recently I read Triage by Ketchum, Laymon, and Lee; and Full Dark No Stars by Stephen King. I’m about to start a Peter Straub collection, Houses without Doors and The Best Horror of the Year—Volume Four edited by Ellen Datlow. And there are still so many other short story collections and anthologies I still want to read.
All of these stories I’ve read throughout the years have been an inspiration to me. Like I said before, I always knew I wanted to be a writer. I don’t think I ever really had a choice. I’ve tried to stop, but I never could, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to.
I hope you don’t think I’m comparing my stories in this collection in any way to the greats I’ve named above. These stories in this collection are my attempts, the tales that swam in my mind and had to get out, had to come to life on paper (or a Kindle screen). I hope these stories introduce you to more of my work like other stories have introduced me to writers I may have never read otherwise. I guess a short story can be kind of like a test drive.
In this collection I’ve written a story for each month (a novella for January), and each story has a little to do with that month—it may be a holiday, the weather, or even something more subtle than that, and I’ve included a very short introduction to each story explaining the connection a little. I’ve tried to bring you a wide variety of tales without relying on old standbys like vampires, werewolves, zombies, and ghosts (even though I have tales with these creatures in them that I intend to publish soon). But there are a few stories here that could possibly be considered a zombie story or a ghost story … maybe. These twelve stories range from graphic and disturbing to more subtle and speculative.
How do you read a short story?
Do you read the first story and plow on through until the end? Do you jump around and read each description and start with the story that interests you the most? Do you start with the shortest story? The longest? I’ve done all of those at one time or another. Please feel free to read the stories in this collection how you want to, and please feel free to drop me a line at [email protected] or on Twitter @MarkLukensBooks and let me know what you think of these stories (good or bad) and share your favorite collections or anthologies that you’ve read through the years; I’m always looking out for new stories to read and new authors to discover.
Thank you so much for purchasing this dark collection of mine. I hope you enjoy it. I hope some of these stories stay with you like so many other stories have stayed with me throughout the years.
Mark Lukens – Tampa, Florida
JANUARY
CROW MANOR
January can mean a new beginning. It can mean a time of resolutions and promises made to oneself—a chance to start over.
And this story is about a young couple who gets that chance to start over with what they think is the offer of a lifetime—an offer to watch a mansion for a couple of months and to earn more money than they’ve made in the previous year. But there are a few very strange conditions that come along with this deal. And there’s something lurking inside the mansion … something that’s waiting for them.
1.
THE INTERVIEW
Matt sat in his car in the parking lot of the grocery store. He scanned the job ads in several newspapers and circulars. He had his pen ready in his hand, ready to circle something, anything.
But there was nothing for him.
He circled a few of the job listings anyway just to show Gina that he was trying, and then he piled the papers together into a messy heap and threw them into the back seat as he sighed with frustration.
He rolled down the window and poked his head out into the bitterly cold January wind and looked up at the slate-gray clouds that promised more snow tonight. He had parked near the back of the parking lot, not too close to customer parking.
“Come on, Gina,” he whispered, and the wind ripped the words out of his mouth and carried them away into the gray afternoon.
He watched the entrance of the store, but Gina wasn’t coming out yet. And then a tall man in a long dark coat caught his eye. The man walked towards the entrance, but he stopped in front of a large corkboard bolted to the wall that was littered with notecards, business cards, and pieces of paper advertising services or people looking for work.
The man stood in front of the board for a moment like he might be perusing the cards and papers, and then he pulled out a bright blue notecard from his coat pocket and tacked it up with his leather-gloved hands. He turned and walked away.
Matt
followed the man with his eyes, even sticking his head out of the car and watching him until he walked to the end of the building and slipped around the corner. Matt never saw the man’s face; it was hidden by a hat pulled low and the collar of his dark coat pulled up high.
The car door squealed in protest as Matt opened it. He stepped out into the cold air and pulled his army green jacket tighter around his lean body. He glanced around at the parking lot for a second, and then he walked straight towards the entrance.
A moment later he stood in front of the bulletin board and stared at the blue notecard tacked right in the middle, rudely overlapping other cards and papers; a bright blue rectangle among the sea of whites, tans, and muted pastel colors.
He plucked the card from the board with his nearly cold-numb fingers and read the words printed in fancy black letters: We are searching for a couple for easy work and substantial pay.
It couldn’t be real. It had to be some kind of scam.
The only other thing on the card was a phone number with a local area code.
Matt’s attention was jarred away by the opening of the entrance doors. Gina, wrapped in her faded and worn winter coat over her cashier’s uniform, marched out through the doors. She stared at Matt as she marched towards him.
“Let’s go,” she said, and then she walked straight for their car.
Matt shoved the blue notecard into his coat pocket and caught up with Gina. Suddenly the afternoon didn’t seem so cold anymore, suddenly there was some hope in his mind. Maybe the card was a scam. But then again maybe it wasn’t.
“How’d it go?” Matt asked as they hurried towards their car. That was his version of “How was your day?”
“I hate that job,” she mumbled as she rounded the back of their rust bucket and opened the passenger door which squealed even louder than the driver’s door.