Picaro

by West, Terry M.

  “You just think too much,” Dr. Spencer was fond of saying.

  Luke had a dreadful feeling his problem went much deeper than job-related stress. But that was for consideration at another time. Right at the present, he had a sicko to catch.

  He tried the bedroom door. A landscape print in a cheap frame had been knocked off of the wall. Luke tried it. He tried the spot on the floor where the body had been found and he fell back as an excruciating pain shot up his spine. He rolled into a ball, his shoulders shivering. He had no vision, only pain- unbearable pain that lit his limbs and extremities on fire.

  Fortunately for Luke’s sanity, the pain quickly vanished, leaving him only the migraine to contend with.

  “Son of a bitch,” he whispered, catching his breath.

  He collected himself, wondering if that was the pain Tonya had experienced or if his own condition was worsening. He would have to make an appointment with Dr. Spencer. Luke went back to the dresser and he glanced in the oval mirror that hung above it. He looked haggard. The dark half-moons under his eyes were permanent. Part of the cause was probably diet but the main culprit was insomnia. He slept maybe three hours a night and cat-napped during the day. The dark hair on his head had yielded to premature gray when he was in his late twenties. Laugh lines, crow’s feet and worry wrinkles littered his face, making the forty-three year-old man look a decade or so older.

  He took one of Tonya’s tissues, not thinking that she would mind, and he mopped the sweat off of his face. Luke noticed a snapshot taped to the lower corner of the mirror. He assumed it was of Tonya. She sat cross-legged on the bedroom floor, hugging a brown cocker spaniel. Such a pretty girl, he thought. Tonya had curly brown hair and matching eyes. She was giving the camera a toothy smile. Her hair was messy in a sexy way and she wore a thin robe. The picture had been taken one morning, but by whom? Tonya had someone close in her life. Luke would mention the photo to Harlson.

  The dog in the picture, though. Where was the dog? Luke had not seen or heard the dog the whole time he had been in the apartment. He whistled, and heard a scratch on the wooden floor from under the bed. He got on his hands and knees, being sure to avoid contact with the chalk outline that he treated with the same respect one would have for a live subway rail. He peered under the bed. Against the far wall, beneath the head post, he could see the dog. It was curled into a furry ball and shuddering violently.

  “Hey, fella,” he said, in a soothing voice. “It’s all right, baby. I won’t hurt you.”

  The dog did not seem to believe him. Luke went to the side of the bed and gently pulled the dog out into view. It shivered madly and yelped in protest. He set the dog on the bed, stroking its head and back. The dog continued to shudder and whine pitifully.

  “Easy now. You’re okay.”

  The dog looked at Luke. Its right eye was useless- milky and blind.

  Luke continued to pet the dog and then a vision came to him.

  The perspective was black and white.

  He looked up at Tonya, who was standing in the bedroom, wearing a skimpy red nightgown. Her hair was rolled into big plastic curlers and white cream was plastered on her face. Tonya looked down at him. She was concerned.

  “Did you hear that, Buffer?” she whispered.

  Part of the picture was cloudy, possibly because of Buffer’s blind eye, Luke wagered. This was the reason he could not see the face of the large figure that caught Tonya from behind, clasping a hand over her mouth. Tonya’s eyes widened as the figure’s other arm pinned her flailing limbs to her side before she could struggle further. Tonya and her attacker lurched forward, causing Buffer/Luke to retreat slightly.

  “Keep back, dog!” the attacker, his visage still distorted, said in a gravelly voice.

  A leather boot lashed out and caught Buffer/Luke in the ribs. Luke felt his ribs crack and a hot rasp of pain escaped from his lungs, causing him to yelp and scurry under the bed as the screaming started and then came to an abrupt halt.

  The vision dissipated, like a thin fog under the sun, and Luke found himself once again stroking Buffer’s back. This was one for the memoirs, he noted, still feeling a tinge in his ribs. He had actually seen something through an animal.

  His excitement over the event would have been greater had he seen more than a jean-clad leg and a leather boot. I’m about as useful as a football bat, he thought.

  He had to get his act together. Others would die, like Tonya, if Luke’s abilities did not return to par. Come on, seer, he thought. Open your goddamn eyes!

  Harlson returned, toting a paper cup. “Hey, where did the dog come from?”

  “This is Buffer. He belonged to Tonya. He saw the murder and then he hid under the bed. Poor thing still seems to be in shock. I think his ribs are cracked. He needs to be taken to a vet.”

  “I’ll put someone on that chore, and then I’ll let the lab boys take a gander at the pup. Did you get anything?” Harlson asked, expectantly.

  “Not much,” Luke admitted, with a downcast look.

  His head was pounding fit to burst.

  Don’t The Monsters All get Scarier At Closing Time

  A $0.99 Horror Short

  Could you love something so hideous and offensive that it made you ill to look at it?

  If you travel to a little dive called Violet's Tavern in Pasadena, you are apt to hear that question from Violet herself.

  But whatever you do, don't give her an answer. And don't tell her your sins. Especially after closing time.

  Buy it here!

  "A horror library MUST READ!"- Heather Omen, THE HORROR NATION

  "5 STARS! Fear and extreme twists and an examination of human capacity rest within these tales, just waiting to be devoured..."-Vitina Molgaard, Horror Novel Reviews

  "5 STARS! One Hell of a collection!"-Dale Herring, Geekdom of Gore

  “What Price Gory?” is one of the damned finest collections of short stories I have ever had the privilege to read!"-Michael Donner, aka Captain Creeper of Creepercast.com

  "Terry West has outdone himself with this excellent set of horrifying short stories. Immerse yourself into the scary madness. Just don’t forget your way out…if you do, you’ll be trapped forever..."-Author, Jada Ryker

  WHAT PRICE GORY? is a best-selling horror collection from Terry M. West. It is a collection of weird supernatural stories. Monsters and demons dwell in these tales.

  Buy it!

  Baker: Demons and other Night Things continues the Night Things saga in this prelude to the Magic Now series.

  Baker Johnson is a psychical researcher, demonologist and exorcist living in 1930s New York City. Brilliant but deeply flawed, Baker has an otherworldly perception that allows him to read people with but a glance. In "A Weird Tale" (the story begun at the end of Night Things: Undead and Kicking), Baker is summoned to Providence by dying author of the macabre, H.P. Lovecraft. Lovecraft makes a confession that threatens Baker's life and sanity. In "A Fiend's Errand", Baker is approached by a dangerous mobster known as Johnny Stücke. Baker's black room, a place where haunted items are cataloged and kept, holds an ancient item that Stücke is determined to possess. Baker is introduced to the secret society known as the Night Things. And he may be the only thing standing between the world of man and the most dangerous threat it has ever known.

  Also included are the previous Baker Johnson tales, "The Giving of Things Cold and Cursed", "Servant of the Red Quill" (with an introduction by Paula Cappa, author of The Dazzling Darkness), and "The Dark Alp".

  Critically-acclaimed horror author Terry M. West continues his Magic Now series with this collection that introduces Baker Johnson to the Magic Now universe.

  Also included: an exclusive preview of the next Night Things book, NOWHERE TO HYDE.

  Buy it!

  Coming in 2017 Release date TBD.

  From Wikipedia.org: Found footage is a genre of film making, especially horror, in which all or a substantial part of a film is presented as discovered film or video rec
ordings, often left behind by missing or dead protagonists.

  Terry M. West and Pleasant Storm Entertainment, Inc. present a revolutionary approach to the horror fiction anthology. JOURNALS OF HORROR: Found Fiction is a collection of terror inspired by the mechanics of the found footage horror film. In JOURNALS OF HORROR, the stories presented are horrific encounters committed to paper, item or device and discovered later. Each tale is a case file that has been transcribed from some type of unearthed diary. These tales can be discovered anywhere.

  This anthology is filled with some of the hottest talent in the horror fiction genre: P.D. Cacek, Todd Keisling, Glenn Rolfe, Robin Dover, DS Ullery, Essel Pratt, Michael Thomas-Knight, John Ledger, Paul D. Marks, Sonja Thomas, Paula Cappa, Stuart Keane, Darryl Dawson, Crystal Leflar, Lori R. Lopez, Michael Seese, Jeff O’Brien, Matt Hayward, Joseph Ramshaw, Michael McGlade, DJ Tyrer, Wesley Thomas, Regina West, Evan Purcell, Robert McGough, Erik Gustafson, Christopher Alan Broadstone and Robert Holt.

  Buy it!

  "Cecil & Bubba are no doubt on their way to Southern-Fried Cult Legend status!"-Heather Omen, The Horror Nation

  Cecil McGee and Turner "Bubba" Teague return in their first full length adventure! The cursed slacker rednecks were introduced in the pages of the horror collection, What Price Gory, in the story Cecil & Bubba meet a Succubus. In that tale, Cecil & Bubba accidentally killed the dog of Rosalita, a drunken gypsy. She cursed them:

  "You shall be plagued by the strange and evil until the end of your days..."

  Soon after that run-in, Cecil & Bubba hired onto a paranormal investigation of a local haunted house to earn some extra cash. During that investigation, the two discovered that Rosalita had not been just whistling Dixie! They ended up tangling with a nasty succubus and the boys barely escaped with their lives and souls.

  In this follow-up novella, Cecil & Bubba spend what they think will be an uneventful Halloween night at McGee's Gas, Garage and 24 Hour Convenience center, until they are joined by a new and unlikely ally. Soon after that, a pair of FBI agents brings a van in for emergency service work. The agents are hauling a weird cargo and Rosalita's curse soon causes an ancient evil to rise and walk the earth once more. Cecil & Bubba find themselves not only fighting for their lives, but for the very planet as well. Can our two heroes prevail over the horror of THE THANG? Prepare yourself for a close encounter of the horrifying and hilarious kind!

  Buy it!

  Please enjoy this preview of Cecil & Bubba meet the Thang!

  If you have not read CECIL & BUBBA MEET A SUCCUBUS, here is what done occurred…

  Cecil McGee and Turner “Bubba” Teague are two thirty year old Southern slackers. They’ve known each since junior high and share a double wide at a little trailer park in Azle, Texas. Cecil works for his father’s garage and gas station and Bubba is a bouncer at the Busty & Lusty club in Fort Worth. Neither could ever be accused of working too hard.

  Not long ago, the boys had been tying one on at their favorite haunt, The Cherokee Lounge. When they left the place, the boys accidently ran over and killed Crackers, a pit bull owned by Rosalita. Rosalita was a local eccentric lady with fiery gypsy blood in her veins. She cursed them on the spot.

  “You will be plagued by the strange and evil until the end of your days.”

  And while it had put the fear of the almighty into Bubba, who was strongly superstitious and believed in such things, Cecil had laughed it off, as he himself regarded the supernatural as a bunch of horse hockey.

  Shortly after that night, the boys were at the Busty & Lusty, the fine gentlemen’s club where Bubba was employed. There the boys met Conrad Woods, a well-spoken Yankee who was conducting a paranormal investigation of the Reynolds house in Fort Worth. The Reynolds house was considered to be the most haunted house in Texas by paranormal enthusiasts. The house sat deep in the dark woods and was a Halloween hot spot for local teenagers.

  Conrad offered the boys a job. He wanted them to assist him during the investigation and act as security. Needing the cash, they agreed.

  The investigation was carried out on the night before Halloween, as the house was rented for a High School party on Halloween night.

  As they conducted the investigation, Conrad called upon the spirit of Hattie Mae Reynolds.

  Hattie Mae had been the long-suffering wife of a morally bankrupt land tycoon. She had been whored out to many a man strictly for the carnal amusement of her husband. Not fond of this life of debauchery, Hattie Mae was visited by the devil. He helped her exact her revenge on her husband and other sexual tormentors, and the devil made her a succubus in service to hell as payment.

  Conrad succeeded in bringing Hattie Mae forth from the depths of hell. Hattie Mae devoured Conrad’s soul and turned him into an undead minion.

  When she attempted to seduce and kill Cecil and Bubba, she realized they had been cursed; their souls had been blackened by the dark sorcery of Rosalita. Hattie Mae could not eat their life force. She demanded they leave, while she prepared to consume all she could before returning to hell. The next day would be Halloween, and it would bring a feast of young and horny souls to Hattie Mae’s doorstep.

  Not taking kindly to this, Cecil decided to burn the Reynolds property down. He hoped Hattie Mae would return to the void, with no physical connection left to her in our world. As the grand old house burned, Cecil and Bubba drove off into the night. The boys wondered what new horrors the curse from Rosalita would bring…

  And now the saga of Cecil and Bubba continues. The story you are about to peruse takes place on the very next night following the events of CECIL AND BUBBA MEET A SUCCUBUS.

  It’s Halloween, y’all. And if you’re anticipating an even bloodier dust-up than the previous story, then you’ve got your expectations set appropriately. So quit fooling around with this here introductory recap and commence with the story!

  TMW

  From his fortress of solitude on the day 2-3-14

  Cecil perched the severed head on the counter near the register. He looked to his daddy for approval.

  Reginald McGee was a slighter and hunched older version of his son. There was no mistaking the lineage between the two. They both had rugged dark features that cleaned up pretty nicely if there were women to impress.

  Reginald adjusted his glasses and squinted at the horror in Cecil’s hands. “Nah. Don’t like it there. Put it back near the oil cans.”

  Cecil took the fake rubber head, a screaming and bleeding visage with rolled up eyes and a bloody neck stump, and placed it back on the shelf where they kept a selection of motor oil.

  “I like it there,” Reginald decided, taking a plastic bowl and filling it with bagged candy. “Now, don’t be stingy when those trick-or-treaters show up. You’re representing McGee’s Gas, Garage and 24 Hour Convenience Center. And don’t let your fat friend eat all this candy himself when he gets here.”

  “Daddy, why do I have to work the late shift tonight?” Cecil whined. The small but wiry son of Reginald McGee dug a hand with dirty fingernails into the candy bowl. “It’s Halloween.”

  Reginald slapped Cecil’s hand out of the bowl. “You’re working tonight because my other employees are family men and have kids, Cecil. It wouldn’t be fair to throw the shift at them.”

  Cecil tilted the baseball cap off of his thick and greasy black hair and scratched his head. “But I’m your son. How are these guys ever gonna work for me if you treat me like a peon?”

  Reginald’s eyes peeked over his glasses at Cecil. “What’s that you say?”

  “Well, you ain’t getting any younger, Daddy. I figured I’d be running the show, one day; being your first born son and all,” Cecil said, crossing his arms and puffing out his chest as he spoke.

  Reginald motioned to the stool behind the register. “Sit down, boy. We need to talk.”

  Cecil took the seat and Reginald shrugged off his dirty windbreaker and draped it over his arm. He then took off his favorite fishing hat; minding the lures as he did so.
Reginald put the hat on the counter and ran a hand through his silver hair. He stared at his boy. Cecil had Reginald’s eyes, and they stared back at his father’s old face. It made this chore even sadder for Cecil’s father.

  Reginald had been set to leave for the night. He had a fishing trip early in the morning and there wouldn’t be too many trips left this year with winter coming. But this talk with his offspring was long overdue; because things definitely needed to be clarified and addressed.

  “I am going to start this off by saying that I love you, Cecil.”

  Cecil nodded uncomfortably. Whenever his daddy professed love, things usually went to hell pretty quickly. “I love you too, Daddy,” Cecil said, suspiciously.

  “Son, you will never, ever be in charge of this business,” Reginald said flat out.