Daddy Won't Kill You (An Occult Horror)

by Gebbie, Caroline

  “Why is Mum mad at you?” Chase asked over his shoulder.

  “I... I think she is upset that we have to sell the cabin.”

  Chase dropped the fish into the sink and jumped into his dad’s arms. Steve pulled him close ignoring the smell and slimy feeling of the fish innards that pressed into his clothing.

  “I like you being around more. We rarely used this cabin anyway; Mum likes hotels,” Chase muttered into his neck.

  Steve laughed slightly and hugged his son close. “Well, we can’t afford hotels now, with me being at home more.”

  Lucy tugged her dad’s arm. “I don’t care I like it.”

  “Me too,” Steve said, and he did. They had needed to economize but if they sold the cabin and he started consulting they would make it, and they would have a good life. A better one than they had before, if he was honest as some things were worth more than money. He squeezed Chase to him.

  Chase pulled himself away from his dad and sat on the grass. He noticed how slimy and bloody his hands were and colored a little. “Why does Mum want to keep the cabin?”

  “We always want something most when we’re about to lose it.” Steve sighed and rubbed his forehead. “That’s not fair. Your Mum is worried we won’t be able to afford expensive things. Things we need.”

  “Like what?” Chase asked.

  Steve pointed at Chase’s jeans and trainers covered in fish innards. “Just things,” Chase said. “I would like it if you were both at home more. And if you were less, well you know...”

  “What?” Steve asked.

  Lucy tugged his arm. “Less hissy.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Steve and the kids sat at the table and watched the sun go down. The sky turned from a deep blue, through a crimson so intense it stung the eyes but lifted the soul, to a dark royal blue. “Red sky at night Sheppard’s delight,” Chase pointed out to Lucy.

  She was tired and hungry, but the sunset had enthralled her. The sun had hung on the horizon a deep orange ball while she wowed at its magnificence. She had cuddled up to Steve and delighted in nature’s spectacle, forgetting her hunger for the moment. Chase was also tired but had enjoyed his sister's joy and wonder at the resplendent sunset. “Why are Sheppard’s delighted?” Lucy asked.

  “Because it means tomorrow will be a lovely day,” Chase beamed at his knowledge.

  Steve shivered, the weather may be nice tomorrow, but something told him it would not be the best of days. It was getting late; there was a chill in the air and Steve was past ready for the meal. He knew he would have to go back into the cabin and see what was happening. He had put it off for as long as he dared, but the kids were hungry, if things weren’t ready then he would fetch out some snacks.

  He steeled himself and pushed back his chair, before he could rise Lauren came out of the cabin with Platters of vegetables. She placed the steaming dishes on the table. “Get serving while I fetch the pie.”

  Lucy looked at Steve with her big sky blue eyes, eyes that could be her mum’s and said, “I hope it’s better than last nights.”

  Steve breathed a sigh of relief that Lauren appeared normal, and he hoped so too, what had been in that pie? It almost tasted like the rotten crow, but that was just stupid. “Well, let’s all try and eat a bit, just to boost mum up. I think she deserves that, working so hard while were having fun, don’t you?”

  Nods ran around the table. Chase had washed his hands and wiped the worst of the fish from his clothing, but he still smelt a little, and both of the kids looked exhausted.

  “I still love Mummy, even though she’s been hissy,” Lucy said.

  “Well, we all get hissy at time,” Steve gently tweaked her nose for emphasis.

  “Not me. I just get pretty.”

  Chase groaned, but he was smiling when he said, “That is so girlie.”

  Steve laughed. “Yes but its true.”

  The door opened, and Lauren walked out all smiles. The pie was held out before her like a precious jewel. It looked and smelt delicious. She seemed happy, bright and proud of her dish as she placed it on the table.

  “Right Dad, you do the honors.”

  Steve stared at the pie. It looked magnificent, with golden pastry and a leaf decoration in the center. It was a deep dish, and the filing bulged the pastry nicely over the rim of the brown ceramic, did it move? Fingers crawled up his spine, and the hairs on his arms and neck rose as he served a baked potato half on each plate.

  He found himself staring at the pie, trepidation staying his hand as he slowly served the vegetables, he was sure the pie was moving. He served a spoon full of broccoli on Lucy’s plate staring at the pie, not moving.

  Lauren’s face darkened as he delayed. The vegetables were all served, and Steve sat dead still.

  “Should I do it Dad?” Chase asked as his hand reached out for the knife.

  “No.” Steve said. He must be just stressed, of course the pie could not move. It was steaming from the oven, the crust golden brown and flaky Lauren’s own recipe.

  He reached for the shiny steel of the knife and held it above the now still pie. He swallowed and sliced into the crust. The pie crunched as he cut down. His hand started to shake, but he held himself together. It’s just a pie. He made another cut, the same crunching noise as he pressed down with the knife. It seemed tough and then something skidded away from the blade. It did move.

  Steve pushed the knife under the portion of pie and lifted it out of the dish. He moved it over the table towards Lauren’s plate. A cockroach dropped out of the steaming pastry and landed upside down on Lauren’s plate. Steve froze at this black obscenity on the pristine white of the china. It spun on its back around and around; spiky black legs clawed at the air.

  Steve shouted as a centipede, and a few maggots followed the cockroach falling down and down onto the plate. The centipedes many legs allowed it to scuttle its brown flexible body across the white plate, the maggots rolled over and stopped. Steve dropped the pie, and it split open. Inside were all manner of insects, and what looked like rotten meat. Most of the contents were alive and skittered or crawled around on the china. The pie itself seemed to squirm and move across the plate.

  Steve froze the knife in his hand, his eye unable to leave the pie. He felt his skin crawl as if the insects were all over him. He dropped the knife and jumped back. “Shit.” He brushed his clothes down as if the insects were already on him. He looked at the kids they were both staring at the table as insects crawled out of the crust and spread from Lauren’s plate and across the wood.

  Steve grabbed Lucy. “Come on Chase,” he shouted.

  The whole table now teamed with insects. They had streamed out of the cooked pie and ran, hopped and skipped across the wood and china. Maggots seemed to roll out of the pie bringing the stench of death with them. Chase grabbed his nose fighting back the sick that threatened to join the insects.

  Lauren looked at them as if they were all mad. Chase backed away, Steve held Lucy; they were fixated on the sight before them.

  “Chase now, to the car,” Steve said at last able to move. He sprinted to the SUV and strapped Lucy in her booster seat. He looked at Chase. “You okay?”

  “Just a bit crawly, did you smell that,” Chase replied.”

  “Get in we’re leaving.” Steve ran around the car and headed back to the deck. Lauren sat in the chair rocking and eating the insect pie as if it was perfectly normal. Her hair was straighter, old fashioned and almost a bob.

  “Your hair?” Steve asked, even with all that was going on her hair, seemed strange.

  She bit into a piece of pie. It crunched as she chewed and swallowed. The sound went through Steve, grating on his nerves.

  “Honey let’s go for a drive.”

  Her plate crawled with squirming insects, and that rotten, putrid meat.

  “No, I’m eating,” she said as calm as a cucumber. “Sit down. We don’t want it to go cold.” She smiled and continued crunching down the insects.


  Steve shuddered; each bite set his nerves on edge and his stomach roiled with the thought of it. The insects crunched as she bit down on hard shells or spider legs. Each time she chewed he wanted to be sick, and it was pushing him to breaking point.

  She took another mouthful. A centipede was half in half out of her mouth. It wiggled a black legged string against the white of her chin. He watched stunned as she used her tongue to scoop it in. “That’s it.” He gently reached for her wrists. “Let’s go,” he said.

  She stabbed at him with her knife, grazing his arm and in a deeper voice than usual she said, "Not till I've eaten, and you’re not spoiling the kids they either eat up or no food for a week.”

  “I think they’ll take the second option.” Steve tried to catch her hands.

  “You bastard, you’re turning them against me,” Lauren screamed. She turned the knife at him and slashed at his arms. Steve was dodging the blows unsure what to do. He looked at the car and started to leave. No, he couldn’t leave without her; she needed help.

  He stepped behind her and tried to pin her arms. She flung her plate at him, covering him with rotten meat and crawling insects. A piece hit his cheek. He fought the urge to claw it off and pinned her arms to her side. The meat stank and slid on his face. He so wanted to wipe it away as he felt insects crawl on his skin. He pulled her out of the chair.

  “You dirty bastard, you just want to use me,” she yelled.

  “Lauren calm down.” Steve held on as she bucked in his arms. “Let’s go for a drive.”

  She relaxed in his arms, at last he thought. She leaned forward and brought her head back with her full weight, trying to smash his nose with her skull. He hugged her tight, holding her with ease. Desperately he searched for something to help. Then carried her to the table and scraped everything off it while he held her tight. Crockery and food crashed onto the deck; plates shattered and food and insects littered the wooden floor. He laid her on the table ignoring the insects as they scurried in all directions.

  She was snapping at him now, trying to bite his face. “Eric, stop this you evil bastard,” she screamed between bites.

  He pulled her scarf from her neck and quickly tied her hands. Despite her struggles his own hands were so much bigger and stronger, and he easily secured her with her scarf.

  “Eric, you hurt me again, and I swear I will kill you,” she spat at him through gritted teeth.

  “What?” Steve was confused, who was Eric?

  She was still trying to bite leaning up from the table as far as she could then kicking out at him, anything to hurt.

  Mortified he pulled off his belt and managing to avoid being kicked he quickly secured her feet. She was lying on the table tied up, but still struggling as an earwig ran across her arm. Steve shuddered and brushed it away, barely avoiding her teeth as she bit out again. He scanned the area.

  “You lying cheating, useless layabout bastard,” she screamed.

  Steve grabbed a towel. “You can scream at me as much as you want, but the kids don’t need to hear it.” He shook out the towel and rolled it up. He pulled her upwards, so her face was resting against his chest. She bit into him, and he reeled back. “Jesus, Lauren.”

  He grabbed a napkin from the debris by the table and shook it to be sure there were no bugs. He shoved it into her mouth and then used the towel to secure the home made gag.

  She calmed for a moment.

  “Are you all right?” he asked. “I’m sorry, but I don’t know what else to do.”

  Her eyes were ice-cold and as wild as a lion in a bear trap. She tried to bash him with her head, again and again, but he held her down with one hand. He waited, hoping she would calm, but somehow he knew the best thing to do was get her away from here. He knew that if they left she would be fine. He grabbed her from the table and gently threw her over his shoulder. Grabbing a rope from the deck, he carried her to the car.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Steve dropped Lauren into the passenger seat. She had stopped struggling, but her eyes held a world of contempt. He fastened the rope around her and secured her to the seat. She seemed to be waiting for something and her look had changed to a knowing expression.

  “Is this a game?” Lucy asked from the back of the car, her voice wavered a little.

  “No. Dad’s just taking control,” Chase said.

  Steve brushed maggots and a stray earwig from his clothes. He forced himself not to shudder in front of the children, they must not know how freaked out he was. As he moved, Lauren’s eyes contained a malignancy that scared him though for now she was calm.

  He left her, climbed into the driver’s seat, and closed the door. “Ready for a drive?” he asked.

  “But the fish?” Chase said.

  “I’ll come back for them,” Steve checked the kids in the rear view mirror, they were surprisingly calm.

  “I’m hungry,” Lucy said.

  “I know Sweetie. We’ll eat soon.”

  He put the key in and tried the engine. It turned over but would not fire. He tried again and again, each time it turned over, a grating, laboring sound that raised his pulse and stole his hope, but still it would not fire and now with each turn the battery started to fade, the engine seemed to be winding down.

  Lauren looked on, knowing, spiteful. Her eyes were ice blue, much lighter than normal, they seemed to cut right through to his heart. He closed his own eyes, it must be the light no way could her eyes change color. He reached down popped the hood and got out of the car.

  Lifting the metal stared into the engine bay and a deep dread settled like ice in his intestines. The plug leads had all been cut. The severed ends seemed to wave at him as if to say, stuck now aren’t you?

  Inside the car, Lauren looked insanely pleased.

  “You can fix it Dad?” Chase called from the back seat.

  “Not without parts,” Steve said. “You two wait here.”

  He opened Lauren’s door and untied her. She tried to kick out at him as he grabbed her from the car. Those icy blue eyes seemed to fill her face and they chilled him to the core. He threw her over his shoulder, grabbing the rope from the car as she fought to get free. Why is this happening?

  Lauren struggled against him as he carried her back to the house. It was like holding a teenager who was having the temper tantrum of a three year old. She kicked and thrashed against him and he slipped on the grass, his feet scrabbling beneath him to regain his step. A pain stabbed into his chest and breathing was hard. He adjusted her and pulled his arms tighter around her legs pinning her to his chest. With her clamped against him he stepped onto the deck and the chair started to rock. He ground to a halt, it seemed to emanate evil, or was he just going mad, it was just a chair. He stepped to one side, avoiding it and pushed through the door into the cabin.

  He held her tight to him as he carried her through the narrow doorways. Afraid she would fight against him and smash her head into the wooden walls. Swinging her sideways he made it into the bedroom, the room they had made love in at the start of this holiday, how could things go so wrong so quickly.

  He gently lowered her onto the covers and tenderly positioned her against the headboard. He grabbed the rope and prepared to tie her to the bed. She looked back at him confused. Her eyes had changed back and were sky blue again, she looked vulnerable, hurt and he so wanted to hold her.

  He stopped and the rope dropped from his fingers, what he had done? He sat down on the edge and gently removed the gag from her mouth. “Please forgive me,” he said gently stroking her cheek.

  Deep, body wracking sobs shook her shoulders and made her look so defenseless. “What is happening to me?” she asked through the tears.

  He pulled her close feeling her shake against his chest. “I don’t know.”

  She pulled away and searched his face. “God Steve, are you all right?”

  “I’m fine,” he said, ignoring the pain in his left arm and a slight tightness in his chest.

  “You’re sure? No
heart pain, no tightness?” she asked her concern had dried her tears in their tracks now she just looked exhausted.

  “I’m good,” he said, “but what the hell is happening?”

  Lauren leaned back against the headboard, her hands and legs still tied. She closed her eyes and let out a long sorrowful breath, she seemed to be steeling herself to tell him something. He waited, knowing she would take her time work things out in her own mind before she rushed into talking. At last she opened her eyes and he could see the terror mirrored there. “It’s the chair," she said. "I perceive things, horrible, evil things and time acts differently. You tell me you've been gone all day, but it's been minutes.” She faltered and looked away as color rose on her cheeks.

  “What?” Steve said, not knowing whether to be relieved or shocked. Could the damn chair be...? This was stupid. She was tired and stressed, having an emotional breakdown of course things seemed wrong. Her voice cut through his thoughts.

  “Things, I see and feel things, don’t you believe me?” Lauren said.

  Steve reached out a hand to caress her cheek, she felt so cold. “It’s just stress,” he said.

  She pushed the hand away. “No something’s wrong, it’s the chair believe me.”

  “Who’s Eric?” Steve asked.

  “I don’t know why?” Lauren looked genuinely confused.

  “You were shouting about him, to him. Jesus Lauren has someone hurt you? Have you been seeing someone else?” Steve looked at her trying to read her, but he was almost afraid to ask.

  “No,” she answered immediately.

  She looked genuine, but he couldn’t let it go. “Is that why you mentioned divorce? Lauren are you cheating on me?”

  She leaned towards him, wanting to hug him tight but the scarf round her hands prevented any contact. “No,” she said. “I’m not seeing anyone. I don’t even know Eric.”

  Steve pulled back, looked at her tied hands, no he did not trust her yet. “Then why were you shouting his name?”