Night Terrors: 16 Horror Stories

by Valentine King

  Keith ignored her. He stood up and took hold of his bike, climbing onto the seat. “Hey! Come back here,” the woman shouted as Keith rode away. It hadn’t gone how he’d planned but at least he’d got his bike back just like the man said. Having faith was a wonderful thing.

  The man hadn’t spoken to him since that day and he wondered if he’d somehow failed him. As he headed off the motorway he began to think this was why he was being called back. To find Ben, to finish what he’d started.

  He spotted a broken down car less than ten miles before Seaford, swerving round it just in time to avoid a collision. He slowed to a halt in front of the other car, climbing out and walking back along the road. He looked in through the driver’s window, surprised to find the man sitting there with his arms folded.

  “Hello Keith,” the man said as he opened the car door. “I’ve been waiting for you. Climb in. Time is short and we have much to discuss.”

  7

  Marie sat at the corner table of the only café open in Seaford. She watched Andrew collect their coffees with a wry smile. It was like being kids again. They’d arrived in Seaford just before the sun came up.

  “Do you feel that?” Marie had asked, looking out at the empty streets.

  “What?” Andrew had replied.

  “That feeling that we should just turn round and leave.”

  He shrugged but she could tell he looked uncomfortable. They stopped by the pier, braving the cold to dash into the welcoming warmth of Annie’s café.

  “There you go,” Andrew said, passing her a steaming mug as he sat down opposite her. “Should warm you up a bit.”

  “Thanks. And I’ll pay you back, I promise.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” He dug into the sugar bowl with a stained teaspoon. “The amount of drinks you used to buy me, I think I’d need to get you a coffee every day for the next fifteen years to make us even.”

  Marie smiled and sipped at her drink, looking across at the counter again. It seemed no different from last time she’d been in here.

  “How long has it been?” Andrew asked, leaning back in his chair. “I feel like I’ve gone back in time.”

  “I know the feeling. Well, I left in’97 and it’s 2014 so that’s what?”

  Seventeen years,” Andrew answered after a moment’s thought. “That long? I swear the place hasn’t been painted since.”

  “I know. I’m sure that stain on the wall was me throwing ketchup around.”

  “What the hell happened to us Marie?”

  “We grew up.”

  They were both silent for a moment. Marie yawned loudly, wanting to talk about anything but the subject at the front of her mind, desperate to avoid discussing the person she’d seen outside her car. Not yet at least. “What have you been up to then?”

  “Since leaving this seaside paradise? Well let’s see. I moved to Leeds for a year, lived in the world’s smallest bedsit. Ate a lot of noodles. I mean a lot. Then I joined the army.”

  “Wow. I’d never have guessed you wanted to be a soldier.”

  “It surprised me too but there we are.”

  “So...have you killed anyone?”

  His expression changed and Marie felt guilty for asking. His relaxed smile had gone, replaced by a blank stare. It was only there for a few seconds but it was long enough for her to wish she’d kept her mouth shut.

  “What about you?” Andrew asked, spooning in more sugar.

  “I moved to London.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes really.”

  “And?”

  “Not much to add to that I’m afraid.”

  “Oh come on. Seventeen years in the capital city. Something must have happened to you there.”

  Lots of things happened, Marie thought, lots of things I never want to talk about. “Nope,” she said, unable to meet his eye. “So, you married?”

  “Sort of.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Sorry, do you want to talk about something else?”

  “No, no it’s fine.”

  “Who was the lucky lady then?”

  “Guess.”

  “I don’t know. Dan Curzon? You were bloody obsessed with him.”

  A laugh escaped him and the tension was broken. “I was a fan, what’s wrong with that? But no, not him. Who did I get caught with in the changing room in year 10 whilst everyone else was playing basketball?”

  Marie frowned, raking through her memories. “Christ, you didn’t?”

  “I did.”

  “You married Caroline Watson?” She looked at Andrew and he nodded. “You? The snarling Goth who hated the world and everyone in it somehow married Caroline, the girl who only ever wore pink? The girl who brought a pink teddy bear to school with her every day without fail.”

  “She grew out of the pink thing.”

  “Andrew!” She punched him on the shoulder. “How the hell did that happen?”

  “She ended up in the army too.”

  “Fuck off! You’ve got to be kidding now.”

  “I’m not. We ended up in the same shitty country at the same base at the same time.”

  “So what happened then?”

  “Like I said, it’s complicated.”

  “I’m listening.”

  He scraped back his chair and stood up. “I better get some breakfast then. Do you want anything?”

  “Just some toast maybe.”

  “Sod that. I’m having a fry up and so are you. You look like you need it.”

  He ignored her protests and headed over to the counter, coming back a minute later with two sets of cutlery.

  “Well?” she asked as he sat back down. “Come on, tell Aunty Marie what happened.”

  “Fine,” he sighed, frowning, looking as if trying to find the right words. “I had some…bad experiences on my last tour and in the end they invalided me out. Caroline was already out by then. We were in bed last week and I…” His chest hitched as if fighting back tears. “I was having a nightmare and…I think I thought she was someone else because all I remember was waking up with my hands round her neck. I was…I was choking her.” He looked down at the table, breathing hard.

  “Shit,” Marie muttered.

  “I didn’t know what to do. I tried to say sorry but it didn’t do any good. Her family told her I’d end up doing it again and I ended up in the spare room and then I ended up here.”

  “Shit,” Marie said again. “I’m sorry.”

  He shrugged. “It’s not your fault.”

  “And now she wants a divorce?”

  He nodded. “She hasn’t said so but come on, who stays with a man who does something like that?”

  Marie slid her hand over the table, taking hold of his and squeezing it. “I’m no expert Andrew but if she really thought it was over you’d have been booted out of the house, not relegated to the spare room. It’ll be all right. Trust me.”

  He looked back at her in silence as a waitress appeared beside them. She dumped two plates onto the table before walking away without a word.

  “Same friendly service as ever,” Marie said, picking up her knife and fork, the smell of the food making her realise just how hungry she felt.

  Andrew picked up a ketchup bottle and emptied the contents over the charred strips of bacon on his plate. “Do you remember that night they forgot to lock up and we came in and cooked those chips and nearly burnt the place down?”

  “Shut up,” Marie hissed, glancing over at the waitress who was flicking through a magazine at the counter. “They never found out it was us.”

  “What you think they’re still looking for the phantom chip fryers seventeen years later?”

  “They might be,” Marie said, shovelling baked beans into her mouth. “You never know.”

  “I’ll take the rap Marie,” he replied. “I can take it. And I’ll tell you what else I’d forgotten.”

  Marie froze. He was going to talk about it and
she wasn’t ready, she didn’t think she’d ever be ready.

  “How fucking awful the food is in here.” He grimaced as he swallowed. “I swear this is more ash than anything else. Why did we keep coming back here?”

  “Because it was cheap and Ted never told school we were here.”

  “Oh yeah, Ted. I wonder what happened to him.”

  “Probably still cooking back there. Hey, do you remember Elmo?” Marie asked, wanting more than ever to put off the conversation they had to have.

  “God, how could I forget?” He deepened his voice and faked a shudder. “Get off the green you bloody kids. He used to scare the shit out of me. I swear he tried to run me over once with that ride on lawnmower. Miserable old fucker. Do you remember your fourteenth? We were in the park and he chased us out, ended up having that bonfire on the beach?”

  Marie paled, memories washing over her. “That was one of the worst nights of my life. At least until-“

  “What was so bad about it?” Andrew interrupted. “All I remember is sitting around the fire and drinking cider until I threw up. I don’t think my liver ever recovered from that stuff.”

  He looked across at her and she looked away. She opened her mouth to say something else but the story came blurting out, the one she’d kept to herself since it happened.

  It was a memory that had never faded. They’d walked to the beach as a huge group, the sun setting by the time they reached the end of the prom. They descended onto the sand, picking up driftwood as they went, gathering it together into a pile.

  Not surprisingly, the fire refused to light. In the end Andrew’s friend Eddie suggested firelighters would get things going but who carried firelighters around with them? Mike said he had some petrol in his dad’s garage and went off to get it. Marie and Caroline were dispatched to collect more wood from the dump at the top of the cliffs.

  “How is this fair?” Caroline asked as the two of them worked their way up the gentle slope of the cliffside to the churchyard above. “This dress is brand new. Now it’s covered in clay and I’m going to get splinters all over it.”

  “What about me?” Marie replied. “I’m gathering wood for my own bonfire on my birthday. I should be getting other people to do this.”

  “You could have let us come back to your house and sit in the warm instead.”

  “Yeah right,” Marie said, pulling herself onto the grass at the top of the cliff. “Twenty people drinking cider with my parents watching. That would’ve been interesting.”

  They weaved their way through the headstones in the churchyard. Caroline pushed the gate open and they crossed over the track to the caravan park, walking along the row of statics whilst keeping an eye out for the site security guard, Mr Doherty.

  They were in luck, he was nowhere to be seen. Two minutes later they reached the far corner of the site, digging into the pile of broken planks and rotten decking that had been dumped behind a screen of leylandii trees. They came here a lot to scavenge bits of wood but tonight something felt different. Marie couldn’t put her finger on it but she felt increasingly uncomfortable as the minutes passed.

  Grabbing two branches, she lifted them under her arms and almost jogged as she turned to head back towards the caravans. “Come on,” she called behind her. “I’m going. Catch me up.”

  She turned to see Caroline wasn’t with her. Then she heard a scream. Dropping the wood, she ran back and found Caroline laid on her back with a man laid on top of her. Her knickers were round her ankles and the man was fighting to get her hands above her head. In the shade of the trees, it was impossible to see the man’s face but Marie could just make out that he was wearing a hood. She was frozen to the spot until Caroline looked up and saw her.

  “Help!” she screamed and that broke the spell. Picking up the nearest branch Marie sneaked quietly towards the man. She stopped behind him and swung the branch through the air, watching it slam into the side of his head, the rotten wood crumbling into nothing from the impact.

  The figure fell to his side, hands moving to his head. He spun round to face Marie and she caught a glimpse of a pair of dark eyes glistening under the hood. He stood up slowly, taking a step towards her.

  A voice called from behind the trees. “Is someone back there?”

  It was Mr Doherty, he must have heard the scream. The figure turned towards the voice before spinning around and darting into the trees, gone from sight within a second. Caroline was still pulling her knickers back up when Mr Doherty appeared in view, shining his torch at the two of them. “Hey, what are you two doing here?”

  “My friend…she was attacked,” Marie said as he grabbed her shoulder.

  “Like I care. Now piss off the pair of you, you’re trespassing.”

  Caroline ran to Marie and snatched her from Mr Doherty’s grasp. “Come on,” she said, pulling her friend away. “Let’s go.”

  Marie opened her mouth to protest but then Caroline mouthed, “Don’t, please,” so she closed it again. They walked back towards the churchyard, Mr Doherty watching them go. Caroline winced with each step, looking increasingly uncomfortable.

  “We should take you to a hospital,” Marie said at last.

  “No!” Caroline snapped, turning Marie towards her. “Listen to me. I want to forget about this. It never happened.”

  “But…but he tried to rape you.”

  “It never happened.”

  Marie’s mind whirled. “But…”

  “No! It never happened! Promise me you’ll forget about it, don’t tell anyone!”

  Marie looked into her eyes and saw the pleading behind them. “Okay, fine. I think you’re fucking mental but I promise to keep this to myself. I won’t tell anyone that there’s a rapist in Seaford who might attack any one of us next. Happy?”

  Caroline seemed oblivious to the sarcasm, already climbing back down the cliff towards the flickering lights of the bonfire on the beach below. Marie struggled after her. There were about two dozen people stood around on the beach when they got there, their faces hard to see in the half light of the dwindling fire.

  More wood was being thrown on as Marie looked round for Caroline. The flames hissed and spat, sending plumes of smoke up into the night air. She sank onto a fallen tree trunk, looking round at everyone. They were busy talking, drinking, enjoying themselves. She spotted Caroline laughing with two people she hardly knew. Was it one of them who did it? How could she just stand there and act as if nothing happened? If it had happened to Marie, she’d have had a lynch mob going door to door until they found the bastard and strung him up. Caroline just stood there and carried on. It wasn’t normal.

  Everyone seemed suspicious to Marie now. Mike said he’d gone to get the petrol. Could he have followed them up there instead? Ben who’d looked down Caroline’s top since year 8 with that hungry look in his eyes. Alan? Ted? Billy? Who was that guy over there? Jason, three years older than anyone else here. He had his own flat and a car. Was it him?

  Marie suddenly saw someone amongst the others who stood out. He had a hood pulled over his face as he vanished from sight again. She stood up and took a step towards him. He turned and looked at her, those dark eyes visible for just a second before her world exploded in pain. There was a flash of orange light from the bonfire and she realised her leg was on fire.

  Time seemed to slow down. Someone was holding a petrol can. It was the man in the hood. The bonfire, feeble before, was now a raging inferno. An arc of flame had shot towards the petrol can as he splashed it towards the fire. He threw the can towards her and as it spun through the air, the line of burning fuel followed, hitting her square in the leg, burning through her jeans in seconds. As she fell to the ground, people began stamping on her leg, throwing handfuls of sand onto the flames licking their way up her jeans.

  The flames died as quickly as they’d grown. “Fuck me,” Marie muttered to herself as she looked down at the smouldering remains of her jeans leg.

  “Who threw that petrol can?” someone
shouted.

  There was a cacophony of replies but nobody seemed to know anything. Caroline appeared by Marie’s side.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I’m fine, I think. Though I probably won’t need to shave this leg for a few years.”

  “Happy birthday,” Caroline said bitterly.

  Marie blinked back tears as she looked across at Andrew who stared back at her. Two things struck her as they both sat in silence in the cafe. They’d never found the guy who did it and from the look on Andrew’s face, Caroline had never told him about what happened to her.

  She looked down at the congealing food on her plate, pushing it away, no longer hungry. Andrew didn’t say anything for a very long time. Finally he leaned towards her across the table to whisper to her. “I have to tell you something.”

  8

  The only thing Tim regretted not bringing was his winter coat. He’d spent a week preparing to run away from home but it never occurred to him to take anything thicker than his denim jacket which had proved useless as soon as he opened the car door and stepped out into the freezing cold of a January day by the North Sea. He nodded his thanks to the driver as she waved before driving off, leaving him alone. He took in the view, surprised he’d made it this far. It seemed like luck was on his side for the first time in his life.

  He deserved some luck after what had happened recently. Since his parents had divorced his mother seemed to have different ‘friends’ over every night of the week. They never stayed long yet they always seemed more important to his mother than he was. When they came, he wasn’t allowed to watch TV in the living room, he had to stay upstairs out of the way. It wouldn’t have been so bad if his TV hadn’t been stolen by one of her guests but when he came home to find his games console and laptop had gone, he decided it was about time he left too.

  He’d woken up early that morning whilst she was still sleeping. Packing the few edible things from the fridge into his rucksack, he realised he hadn’t yet decided where to go. He couldn’t stay in the city, that was for sure. She might not be bothered about him but the school would tell someone, posters might go up, someone was sure to recognise him. Besides, he’d be better off somewhere nobody knew his name.