Stacey brought her pepper spray up to Ma’s face. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on, but I will ruin her.”
Tamra just laughed. “Go ahead. It’s just saline solution in there.”
That couldn’t be. Could it? But Tamra had plenty of access to the bottle over the last three days. And if the gun was empty, Stacey doubted Tamra had left the pepper spray in play.
“Why?” Jonathan asked. Although at this point Stacey thought it was kind of moot. No matter how you cut it, pun totally intended, they were all going to die.
“Come on,” Tamra teased. “You guys called your website, ‘The Tullock Family Death Farm,’ and even registered it with ‘Lets get some revenge dot com.’ ”
Stacey felt her stomach drop, seeming to pull her heart with it.
Tamra looked right at her. “We’re not some stupid, backwoods hicks. We have the Internet, you self-righteous bitch.”
“Bitch?” Stacey stammered. “Me? I’m the bitch?” Stacey didn’t even have a comeback for that. What witty retort could really wound a serial-killing cannibal?
“And you,” Tamra sneered at Jonathan. “Like I would ever open my legs for a man who wasn’t family.”
Make that an incestuous serial-killing cannibal.
Yeah, there were no adequate comebacks to that.
“Now, as I said,” Cliver stated, “Ruf, have yer fun.”
No, this couldn’t be how it ended. Not here. Not like this. Not after the months of planning.
Then the back door burst open, and a woman stumbled inside. If she was, in fact, a woman. Black soot covered her face, etching every line. But her skin looked more like leather than tissue, and her eyes were clouded over—blue, like marbles. And she smelled like… well, supper.
“Help,” she croaked. “Help me!”
* * *
Leo didn’t wait for everyone’s reaction to the woman. He grabbed the nearest utensil, a spoon, and drove it toward the only part of Ruf’s body that he knew for sure he could hit.
The eye.
Even though it was only a measly spoon, Leo felt the metal pop through the cornea, then scoop down into the soft insides until the spoon hit bone. Ruf screamed, frantically grabbing for the utensil. Leo hopped back as Ruf pulled the spoon out, eyeball and all. Blood gushed down his face and onto his overalls.
Leo pulled one of the knives from Ruf’s belly. He might not be able to poke through all that fat, but he could still do some damage. Dodging Ruf’s flailing arms, Leo sliced at any part of the man’s body he could. Each time blood spurted in his face, he thought of Jerome.
He had come here for justice.
Now, though? Now revenge tasted pretty damn good.
That was until he heard Stacey scream, “No!”
He turned in time to see Tamra raise a gun.
“Luckily, I didn’t forget my bullets,” she said with a smirk.
In such a small space, the gunshot sounded like a ballistic missile had been launched.
* * *
“No!” Stacey screamed again, knowing it was futile, as blood trickled down from the bullet wound in Leo’s forehead.
His expression wasn’t pained. It was simply surprised. Then Leo tipped over like a tree being felled, landing on the floor face-first.
Tamra turned the gun on her, but Stacey dove behind Ma, figuring it would give her plenty of cover. And no, she did not feel at all guilty for judging the fat chick now.
A shot rang out, but Stacey had no way of knowing whether it hit Jonathan or not.
Ma gurgled and groaned as she tried to rise.
Not so fast, bitch.
From behind, Stacey shoved Ma’s face down into her bowl of soup. The woman struggled, thrashing her face, but Stacey forced her down.
Was this a fair fight? Hell, no, and Stacey kind of liked it that way.
Stealing a glance to the side, she found Jonathan dancing out of the way of Bitsy’s cleaver as Tamra tried to get a bead on him. Cliver was nowhere to be found. Reaching behind her, Stacey fished for whatever was on the stove. She came up with a ladle.
“Jonathan!” she yelled as she tossed it to him. Yes, it was a ladle, but it was better than nothing.
Stacey was going to get him something else, but Ma put her hands against the table and heaved. Stacey was lifted off the floor and slammed against the oven handle. Her back screamed nearly as loudly as she did. Shoving aside the pain, Stacey grabbed the soup pot and swung it as hard as she could, nailing Ma in the temple.
The woman’s one good eye rolled back in her head as her lips trembled, drool sliding out like a sick, thick waterfall. Ma’s neck twisted to the side as her arms curled up to her chest. Then she made a sound like a wounded sea otter pup.
Well, too fucking bad. Stacey wasn’t going to be fouled again. She raised that damn soup pot over her head, smashing it down on the crown of Ma’s skull as soup sloshed over the edge. You could hear the bone crack as all the twitching stopped and Ma’s quadruple chins lolled against her chest.
“Behind you!” Jonathan yelled as he caught Bitsy’s jaw with his ladle, wrestling away the cleaver.
Stacey had no time to do anything other than drop to the floor as a shotgun blast rang out. She felt the pellets fly by, some slicing through her hair as she fell. A startled scream came from across the room. Stacey looked over to find Bitsy staring at her shirt as blood spread outward from the multiple pellet holes.
This is why you did not shoot fucking shotguns in the house. But Stacey’s glee was short lived as Jonathan also looked down. His shirt too looked like a perverse, bloody tie-dyed print. The two slumped into one another, clutching each other as they slowly sagged to the floor.
* * *
Cliver stared in disbelief as Bitsy gasped one last time. Her eyes glazed over as she stared blankly at the ceiling. Ruf wailed again, but Cliver wasn’t sure if it was for their fallen sister, or his own wounds.
Tamra turned her gun on Cliver. “You stupid son of a bitch! To think that I almost married you.”
“No,” Cliver said as he brought his own gun back up. “Tamra, it was an accident.”
“Which is what Ma always said about you,” Tamra retorted.
Bitsy was dead, but that didn’t mean Tamra had to get mean.
But she went on. “You know why Ma wanted me to cur out? Find a new man to marry?”
“Stop, Tamra,” he begged.
“Because she knew you were weak and nearly as stupid as Ruf, but at least Ruf could lift her.”
Anger surged through Cliver. To compare him to Ruf? No matter how much he wanted to rut with his sister, she’d gone too far.
“Maybe you told Ma you had to go out into the world to stop these folks, but I know you, Tamra,” Cliver hissed. “You always were an outsider.”
Fury sparked in her eyes as her finger tightened on the trigger.
Well, so did his. “At this range I can’t miss, Tamra. But you?”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
Cliver had been so worried about his sister that he’d missed Ruf approaching from the side. His brother came at him with his arms open wide. Cliver tried to get a shot off, but his gun was knocked out of his hand as Ruf gripped him in a bear hug. A breath-snatching, heart-stopping bear hug.
“Bad, Cliver, bad.”
* * *
Stacey watched as Cliver’s eyes bulged from their sockets and the veins on his forehead threatened to burst. Then a shotgun blast sounded as the back of Ruf’s head blew off, spraying the ceiling in gray matter.
“No!” Tamra screamed, raising her gun. But as Ruf’s body slid down, Cliver was in no better shape. His face was a mass of pellet tracks, red and angry. And his chin was simply gone. He too landed on the floor in a thud.
Had Cliver accidentally killed himself, or did he just want them both to go down?
Did it really matter? Stacey was left with the only sister still standing. Unfortunately, the bitch had a gun.
And what did Stace
y have? Nothing except for the table standing over her that provided, at best, meager protection. Give Tamra a moment to regroup, and even that would be gone.
Just the table…
Reacting on instinct, Stacey put her hands up, lifted the table, and then charged toward Tamra. Dishes and glasses slid off, shattering on the floor, but Stacey didn’t stop. Bullets shattered the wood, sending splinters into her face, but still Stacey didn’t stop. Not until she ran full tilt into Tamra.
Only after Stacey slammed Tamra against the wall did she look over the top of the table. Tamra struggled to get her gun hand unpinned, but then stopped and grinned at Stacey.
“Your sister tasted like rosemary and honey.”
Oh no! She didn’t just say that!…
Stacey smashed the wood even harder against Tamra, but her damn big boobs acted as a buffer—and even gave the bitch enough wiggle room to loosen her hand. The barrel of the gun slowly turned in Stacey’s direction.
Maybe she couldn’t push in any harder, but up? Up she could do. Stacey shoved the table upward, knocking the gun from Tamra’s hand. They both dove to get it as it clattered against the linoleum floor. Stacey realized that she would never get to it in time, so instead, she grabbed Tamra by the hair because it seemed like the bitch liked that.
Tamra must have realized that the gun was too far as well, as she turned to Stacey and put both hands around her neck, squeezing. Stacey’s grabbed hold of Tamra’s wrists but the bitch had her mother’s grip. Instead Stacey dug her fingers into Tamra’s cheek. She could feel the flesh under nails as she marked Tamra. Stacey might die today, but this bitch was gonna have to walk around with gouges in her face. Try tempting coeds into her lair, then.
Stacey struggled to breathe as her vision reduced to a pinpoint. She might not be able to cry out, but her brain screamed for oxygen.
Then a shot ricocheted off the floor and into the wall. Stacey gasped as Tamra’s fingers loosened. Stacey pushed away from the bitch.
“I don’t know who to shoot!” the charbroiled woman said, the gun shaky in her leathery hand.
“The one with big boobs!” Stacey yelled, scrambling back.
The woman took aim and fired, winging Tamra in the shoulder. Finally those pontoons worked in Stacey’s favor. But Tamra was already making for the shotgun that lay next to Cliver. Stacey spotted a knife on the floor and grabbed it, lashing out in one motion.
Tamra must have had as little body fat as she claimed, since the knife easily sliced through the skin and through the belly wall.
Damn, these people took their cutlery seriously. Lucky for Stacey.
Tamra’s mouth opened into a perfect “O” as intestines slipped from the wound. She tried to keep them in, but it was like trying to juggle greased sausages. The more Tamra tried to stuff them back in, the more tumbled out.
Stacey backed away as Tamra tried to come at her, but the psychopath slipped on her own intestines, stumbling first to her knees, then to all fours. But still the bitch was coming for them.
Stacey grabbed the gun away from the woman and fired, hitting Tamra in the other shoulder. She shot again. Hitting her in the chest. Then again, in the neck.
Was this a fair fight? Fuck, no.
She fired and fired and fired until the gun clicked on empty.
Tamra lay in a pool of her own blood and guts. Only then did Stacey feel each and every injury she had sustained. The broken ribs, the sprained wrist, the splinters to the face.
“Is… is anyone still alive?” the woman asked, her blue-tinged eyes darting back and forth and a hand groping in front of her.
“Yeah,” Stacey said as sirens wailed in the distance. Jonathan must have dialed out before he got shot. But whatever law enforcement was coming their way was too little, too late in her book.
Carefully, she helped the woman to the floor, and then flopped down herself.
“Are they all dead?” the woman asked.
Stacey scanned the room to find it littered with bodies. Some friends, some enemies, but all dead.
“Yep. Ma and her brood are toast.”
The woman laid her head on Stacey shoulder, a shuddering sigh escaping her nearly mummified form. They both took several deep breaths, although honestly Stacey had to keep from gagging at the chick’s smell, but at least they were alive.
Suddenly, the woman’s head jerked up from Stacey’s shoulder.
“But where’s Pa?”
* * *
If you thought Supper was wickedly gory, with great twists and turns, just wait for Fresh Meat! The story revolves around a dungeon full of serial killers forced to play a sickening game of battle royal. Worse, they are thrown “fresh meat” in the form of a beautiful young woman.
Can she survive this gauntlet of gore?
Can the detective searching for her find her in time?
Be watching for it on Amazon.com!
# # # #
Afterword
Thank you so much for tasting Supper. I hope it made you squirm while reading it as much as I did while writing it!
If you enjoyed Supper, please do me a big favor and go back to Amazon and post a review. We indie authors live and die by our reviews!
Hungry for more gut-wrenching mysteries? Check out the next section for my works!
Other Works by Carolyn McCray
Plain Jane – A Patterson-style thriller with a dash of Hannibal
If you enjoyed the twists and turns of Dark Lullaby, you might want to try Harbinger’s first novel the #1 Bestselling (Police Procedurals and Hard-Boiled Mysteries)…
In the words of New York Times best-selling author, James Rollins (Altar of Eden and Bloodline)…
“Wickedly macabre and blisteringly paced, PLAIN JANE marks the debut of a thriller for the new millennium. Brash, funny, terrifying, and shocking, here is a story best enjoyed with all the lights on. Don’t say I didn't warn you!”
More praise for Plain Jane: Brunettes Beware.
"This book is so creepy. I made the mistake of starting in one night before bed. Not only did the story line keep me turning pages, it freaked me out to the point that I didn't want to turn off my light."
The Book Goddess
Book Reviewer
"This one had me flipping pages until 2 in the morning. I knew when I saw the quote from James Rollins (one of my favorites) that I would get at least my money's worth out of the book, but I had NO idea what laid in store for me."
Mimi
Novel Ideas
The purchase or sample Plain Jane: Brunettes Beware simply click here.
* * *
9th Circle – 9 Circles. Infinite ways to die.
From the wicked mind of Carolyn McCray comes another taut, fast paced hunt for a serial killer.
Praise for 9th Circle…
“A pathological serial killer is terrorizing Seattle and the only person standing in his way is Detective Robi Darcmel. From the chilling opening scene to the last lines of the first episode, I don't remember taking a deep breath. As one observer notes in the opening scene at the slaughter house to a man clearly intrigued by the sight and smell of blood, visceral and flesh--"You are one sick puppy, dude." Indeed..”
Romantchick
Amazon Reviewer
“The first episode of this serial grabbed my attention immediately, and I couldn't turn my Kindle pages fast enough! The sharp sensory detail drops you into every scene, and the superb characterization adds unexpected layers to the storyline. Detective Robi Darcmel is simply fascinating, and the characters around him are the perfect foil for his brilliant peculiarities. 9th CIRCLE is vividly cinematic. I can't wait for the next episode to be delivered to my Kindle!”
Stephanie Bond
Overview:
A madman terrorizes Seattle, attempting to recreate the nine circles of hell using the blood and bodies of the innocent… and not-so-innocent. Detective Darcmel, a gifted savant with Asperger’s Syndrome, is the only one standing in the path of this pathological
killer. As the timer runs down on the fate of the entire city, it is the love of a little girl that can lead to either his salvation or utter destruction.
To sample or purchase 9th Circle click here.
* * *
All Hallow’s Eve – The one night it’s BAD… to be good
If you are in the mood for some more great serial killer catching I also have, All Hallow’s Eve: The One Night it’s BAD to be Good.
People are being martyred but not for their faith. Instead the deaths are part of a serial killer’s sick game as he chooses his victim by their name… then kills them in that Saint’s grisly manner.
What people are saying about All Hallow’s Eve…
“Scary and smart, All Hallow’s Eve is perfect for anyone who wants to read a horror story that makes them think. From the intricate psychopathology of the serial killer, to the hair-raising tension, to the skewering of pop culture, All Hallow’s Eve is simply a great read.”
Your Need To Read
Book Reviewer
“Beautifully written and masterfully executed. You will keep guessing until the end who could have planned such a horrific night! Do not read this while alone in the house!”
ParaYourNormal
Book Reviewer
To sample or purchase All Hallow’s Eve, click here.
* * *
Club Death – Come for the Dancing. Stay because well, a madman has you trapped inside.
From Carolyn McCray, the #1 author in Police Procedural, Hard Boiled Mysteries, Action Adventure, and Men’s Adventure comes a new serial… Club Death.
33% mystery, 33% horror and 34% comedy, this series will give you plenty of thrills, chills and oddly enough, laughs.
If you like your action fast-paced and your dialogue snappy, Club Death is for you!
Praise for Club Death…
The prologue immediately drew me in with the dark voice of a killer. From there, scenes unfolded introducing several different characters and a unique set up for a thriller that will keep the reader turning the pages to see what happens next! Teens will root for the young people in the story and enjoy the HIVE and Keaton, the young entrepreneur with his business, while all readers should enjoy the interesting storyline!
Supper: The Horror Short Story You've Been Craving Page 3