by Kyle Adams
Not Microwave Safe (A Halloween Story)
Copyright© 2012 Kyle Adams
Smash words Edition, License Notes
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Cover Art by Shadowphen
[email protected]
Dedication
To all the great friends I’ve met since joining Goodreads.com, you guys rock.
And especially want to thank my team of beta readers, I truly appreciate all the time and energy you put into helping me, and for putting up with me when I ramble on and on about nothing.
“Holy moocow, that looks too real to be a fake! It’s got to be real.” Uriah sounded excited, like he was about to get on his favorite ride at Disneyland, not staring at a microwave.
“Stop trying to scare me even worse than I already am. You know I hate things like this,” Kent said even though he had his own doubts whether the clown head was real. The microwave hummed like it was working. It had to be a prop, right? A fake microwave and a fake clown head sitting on the bloody stump left for its neck, clearly visible rotating inside the microwave through the viewing window. It was the most horrifying thing Kent had ever seen, it looked scary real, and Kent knew he’d have nightmares for weeks.
The head’s white makeup was highlighted with red-diamonds around the eyes framing the little red ball on the end of the clown’s nose. The more Kent looked at it, the more he thought the boney face belonged to a man, but it was hard to tell for sure under all the face paint. Fixed onto his scalp, the clown wore a wig of wavy blue curls. Had to be fake, right? A wig wouldn’t stay on while the head was chopped off, would it? He still wore a large grin, blood dripped from between his hefty teeth, over his red lips, and down his chin. The scariest part was how the eyes were opened into slits, glaring with what Kent could only describe as sheer malice. Kent felt like they could see right into him, taunting him, like they knew something Kent didn’t.
That was the reason Kent hated Halloween, everything and everyone were always so flipping creepy. Why did he let Uriah talk him into this? Well, he knew why, because he loved the big dummy. But still, he was now wishing he’d said “no” to him this time, especially after he had overheard Uriah talking on the phone to his friend about how intense and elaborate this was supposed to be.
Why did it have to be a clown? For as long as he could remember, Kent had always hated clowns. He couldn’t think of anything scarier and didn’t want to know what was lurking around the old house that could have decapitated something as naturally evil and satanic as a clown. And, now that he thought about it, didn’t clowns travel in packs? Where were the rest of them? And where were all the other people?
“Uriah, didn’t you say this was a popular haunted house? Where is everybody?” Kent thought it was weird how, when they first arrived, there weren’t any other cars parked in the field out front, and there had been no one manning the front entrance or charging an admission fee. Uriah had reassured him that everything was fine and that having someone charging money would ruin the authenticity of the experience; they would probably be charged on the way out. So, he followed Uriah through the front door. The living room was styled with an older decor, but the only thing scary in there was the lack of housekeeping. Luckily, neither of them had allergies, because the air was musky, and everything was coated in dust. With nothing of interest to note, they walked into the kitchen, the sound of the microwave drawing their attention.
“I’m sure they’re all ahead of us. You took your sweet time getting ready, and you didn’t even dress up.” Uriah gave Kent’s hand a gentle squeeze to show he was only playing.
“That’s not true, I dressed as a monstrous blood sucker!” Kent feigned outrage. “And my t-shirt even says ‘I’m a Vampire!’ right on it.”
“No, baby, you put in fangs so small they aren’t even affecting your speech. And, you left off the part of your shirt where it says ‘watch me suck you dry’ which, I have to say, I don’t approve, so we’ll be burning it when we get home.”
“You’re the one who bought me this shirt and I’m not letting you do anything to it.”
“I didn’t get it for you to wear in public! It was for my eyes only.”
“I needed it for my scary vampire costume!”
“With just your glasses, jeans and that t-shirt you look more like a slutty, nerd vampire, not scary at all. No doubt, you are the cutest vampire I’ve ever seen,” Uriah said, turning to him. Uriah used his free hand to gently caress Kent’s lip with his thumb. “I promise to hold your hand the whole time we’re here. And you won’t have to worry about nightmares anytime soon. When we get home, I’ll show you my appreciation for coming here by being your love slave until you’re too exhausted to even dream.” Uriah’s voice sounded provocatively low, Kent felt himself swelling against his jeans. Uriah then leaned forward and pressed their lips together. Before the kiss could deepen, Kent pulled back. As much as he loved kissing Uriah, he wanted out of this house more. He’d told himself he could do this. After all, it was just an old house. But, now that he was here, he couldn’t think of anything but leaving as soon as possible.
“I already wanted to go, but now I have even more motivation to get out of here. Let’s hurry up and get this over with.”
“I want to wait and see what happens when the timer goes off. Look, only a few minutes left.” Uriah was right, Kent had missed that there was a timer on the microwave. He assumed it would just restart.
Kent resigned himself to waiting, but he couldn’t watch the head spin around anymore, it was just too creepy.
The rest of the kitchen appeared normal, if sparse. It didn’t have any appliances other than the microwave, and the cupboards were all missing their doors. There were random picture frames hung on the wall, but beneath the glass was just black canvas. Kent didn’t know why, but those empty frames freaked him out almost as much as the clown. He came to the conclusion there was only one thing in this kitchen worth looking at, Uriah.
Kent was slightly taller than Uriah but a lot less bulky. Uriah was broad and muscular, played sports in high school, while Kent played computer games. They’d been best friends since the second grade. When Kent was seven and Uriah was eight, Uriah had to repeat his second year. Even though they were rarely in the same class during high school, they still managed to stay close. Although Kent usually figured stuff out first, it had been Uriah that knew they’d be awesome as more than friends.
Tonight, Uriah was dressed as a “dumb jock,” which meant he just threw on his old football gear. He’d bragged about how it still fit. Kent didn’t have the heart to tell him that there wasn’t an inch of skin showing between his jersey and football pants back in high school. He liked looking at Uriah’s visible skin though, so why spoil Uriah’s fantasy that he was still as thin as he was three years ago in high school? Kent looked forward to later when he would get to strip Uriah down to just his jock. He was about to get into his fantasy when Uriah tugged on his hand. “Hey, does his skin look weird? And it’s starting to smell really rank.”
Kent looked closer and noticed everything was different now, it was much worse. He was thankful his nose wasn’t very keen and he had trouble smelling anything, but he wasn’t going to take a whiff to try and pick up the scent either. The makeup was starting to smear as the skin started to boil and form small bubbles. The blue wig now looked like melted plastic and nothing resembling hair. Kent wondered what the wig was made of and how cheap it
would have to be to melt. Kent screamed and jumped back as he heard a loud pop from inside the microwave as the head exploded; leaving the glass window covered in a mixture of dripping substances.
“That was freaking awesome!” Uriah shouted, “It looks like someone ate a can of rainbow confetti-infused chili and had explosive diarrhea in there!”
“You disgust me,” Kent was sure his voice dripped with revulsion. He closed his eyes, fighting the urge to gag. “It was bad enough seeing it, I could’ve lived without your vivid description.”
“Come on,” Uriah ignored Kent’s internal struggle to hold the contents of his stomach. “Let’s go see what else they have. I wonder if anything can top that.”