I can see by the look on your face you think I’m crazy. Believe me, I wish I were. I wish I was stark raving mad with drool sliding out of my mouth and faeces smeared on my walls, but I’m not. I’m as sane as you are. Look into my eyes, and you’ll know the truth. Hell has vomited up an evil into this world, and unless I can get the word out, it’s going to infect everything we know. It’s already started…look what it’s done to me.
But I digress, my time is short, and I can’t get off track.
Naturally I thought my eyes had played a trick on me. It must have been some shadow or strange flickering of light that had caused me to see what I thought I had seen. Or possibly it was some flashback to my high school days when I didn’t mind experimenting with certain pharmaceuticals of questionable legality that caused the quick hallucination. There was no way the thing was actually alive.
I decided the only way I was going to get peace of mind was to find out for myself. I felt like a complete fool, but I followed Joan into the kitchen in hopes of catching another glimpse of that demon spawned hairpiece.
Joan had her back to me as I entered. She was bent over at the waist digging in the bottom of the refrigerator for something to drink. Normally I would have been distracted by the nice view of her backside bouncing up and down as she hunted through the fridge, but I was a man on a mission.
I could see the scrunchy still holding her hair back. It looked completely normal. I can’t begin to tell you how relieved I felt.
It was strange. I was so sure I had been mistaken in what I had seen. I mean how could I not have been? The whole thing was so stupid, yet there I stood actually panting with relief. It was as if on some primal level I could sense something wasn’t quite right. Somehow, instinctively, I knew I was in the presence of evil.
I remember her turning around, and seeing the relief stricken look etched on my face and then asking me if I was alright. I thought I was. I thought everything had returned to normal, but what happened next convinced me otherwise, or at least it should have. If I would have reacted appropriately right then, maybe I could have put a stop to this whole insanity.
I of course reassured her that I was fine. I felt like a complete idiot. Here I was in the presence of the only woman I have ever loved, and I was afraid I might be losing my mind because of a stupid hair trinket.
I decided enough was enough, and walked over to her, wrapping her in my arms, and planting a kiss on those luscious lips. The sweetest tasting lips you could ever imagine.
‘Let’s go upstairs.’
I wanted her, but then again, I always wanted her. I was still on edge, but the thought of some hot sex with this perfect beauty pushed my growing fears aside. It’s funny how the lure of a wild round of monkey love can cure any problem . . . almost.
I could see by the look in her eyes, she was of a like mind, and more than willing to lead the way to our bedroom. Knowing Joan, however, with her passion, we might not have even made it up the stairs. Many a time we would only make it to the living room, stairway, or even the hallway before our desires would get the better of us, and we would just give in. It’s rare in this screwed up world to find the one person you consider your soul mate, but in Joan I knew I had found mine. That is until evil entered my life.
Knowing a good time was about to be had, I grabbed her tighter, and we shared one of those long, wet kisses that make your toes tingle. I can see by the smirk on your face, you know exactly what I am talking about.
I know I mentioned how gorgeous Joan’s hair was already, and man did I love running my fingers through it. The soft feel of it was as potent as any aphrodisiac. Just thinking about the silkiness of it was turning me on, and I couldn’t resist myself.
I reached up with my hand, and slowly traced my fingers through the smooth silk that was her hair. I let it flow through my fingers as we continued to share our kiss; our passion growing more intense with each passing second. That is until I brushed my fingers against the scrunchy holding her hair in the casual ponytail.
I had already forgotten about the craziness from mere moments before. I guess evil decided I needed a reminder. As I began pulling the scrunchy down in an attempt to free those black locks so they could cascade over her shoulders, I felt a sharp piercing pain in my finger.
I yelped like a puppy that had its tail accidentally stepped on. I pulled away from Joan forcibly. I know a look of utter confusion with subtle hints of horror was plastered across my face. I know this because I could see myself reflected in Joan’s wondrous eyes.
‘What the hell was that?’ she asked me equally as confused with my strange behaviour.
I told her the first lie that leapt into my mind. Sure it was lame, but it’s all my frightened brain could come up with.
‘I think I snagged a hangnail in your hair.’
She looked at me like I was a complete moron. I can’t really blame her though. Here she was wanting sex, and I was jumping around like a kid afraid of his own shadow.
‘Well if you’re too hurt to continue, I guess I will have to fly solo,’ she said teasing me.
I so wanted to play along, but the shock of the pain was still washing over me. I didn’t know how to respond. I just stood there trying to stutter out a response like some kind of babbling fool.
Luckily, she mistook my odd behaviour as a result of her teasing, and not due to complete horror which was the truth of the matter.
‘I’m going upstairs. If your injured nail is not too bad, feel free to join me,’ she said as she walked past. I remember her looking back over her shoulder at me coyly.
This naturally got my engines going again. I am a man after all. I was torn between my horror and my desire to get laid. I continued to watch her, and I was surprised when she reached up, removed the devilish hair scrunchy, and tossed it on the coffee table as she passed through the living room on her way upstairs.
I stood transfixed. I was rooted to that spot unsure of how to proceed. When Joan was up the stairs and out of sight, I finally ventured a peak at my still throbbing finger. What little of the initial horror that had subsided quickly returned and intensified tenfold.
There on my right index finger was a circle of red. There were tiny drops of blood oozing from the wound, but I was able to clearly make out a small bite mark. I am not ashamed to admit I almost threw up. My fear had intensified so much it nearly caused that kind of physical reaction.
I turned my head and could only stare at the discarded hair scrunchy as it lay seemingly harmless on the coffee table. Slowly I was able to get enough of my wits about me to walk into the living room. My feet felt as if they were wearing cinder block loafers.
I had tunnel vision as the only thing I could focus in on was the scrunchy. Everything else seemed to fade away. I was sick to my stomach, and as I slowly closed the distance, the nauseous feeling only got worse. I was shaking so hard, I could hear my teeth chatter.
When I finally found myself standing before the table which was holding that heinous monster, I was close to feint. I knew I had to get rid of the vile demon, but I was too scared to reach out and touch the thing. It had already bitten me once, who knew what else it might try or was capable of.
It was Joan who broke the spell caused by my fear. I heard her call from upstairs.
‘Alright cowboy, this is the last call. If you’re not up here in the next five minutes, happy hour will be over.’
The sound of her voice was enough to spur me into action. Lying on the table next to the scrunchy was one of Joan’s puzzle books. She loved doing crosswords. Out of the bottom of the book I could see the end of an ink pen she was using as a bookmark.
In a moment of inspiration, I grabbed up the pen, slipped it through the scrunchy carefully so it would not touch any of my hand, and charged back into the kitchen. Without any more hesitation, I headed straight for the sink, dumped the scrunchy into the drain, and flipped the switch to activate the garbage disposal.
I watched with morbid curiosity as
the scrunchy from Hell was sucked into the drain. The grinding of the disposal was music to my ears. I felt as if a huge weight was lifted off me. Whatever evil had created that thing could have it back. As far as I was concerned, the garbage disposal was sending it straight back to hell.
Just when I was starting to feel better, I heard the scream coming from the drain. So help me God, the thing screamed in pain as it was ground into bits. If there was even an ounce of doubt about whether I was mistaken or not, it was gone. I couldn’t hold it back anymore; I leaned over and threw up into the same sink.
Surprisingly, emptying my stomach did make me feel better. I reached over and turned the garbage disposal off. In the aftermath of the grinding and that unearthly scream, the silence was almost overwhelming.
I splashed some water on my face, and just stood there letting coolness settle into my skin. I felt like the whole world was closing in on me. I started feeling claustrophobic, and fearing that I might start to hyperventilate, I sucked in two deep breaths. Along with the cool water, the breaths helped calm my nerves. I could feel the shaking in my hands begin to subside, but when I reached up to wipe my brow, I could still see a slight tremble. I think I was still in shock because the details of the rest of the night are a little blurry.
Not really knowing what to do next, I made my way upstairs to Joan. I know I must have looked like a robot as I felt stiff and mechanical in my movements. I remember making it to the bedroom, and I know I had sex with Joan, but the details have all slipped from my memory. I think with everything that had happened, I was on a sensory overload, and my already over taxed brain simply shut down. It wasn’t until the next morning things became crystal clear again.
I remember waking up and feeling completely refreshed. The events from the previous day were nothing more than a vague fuzzy memory. In fact, I had convinced myself it was more than likely all a dream. As I remembered bits and pieces of the oddities from the day before, I would assure myself they were only left over phantoms from some strange nightmare I must have had during the night. In a strange sort of way, I was more right than expected.
I was in bed alone. Joan had wakened before me, and with the aroma of bacon frying wafting into the bedroom, I quickly guessed she was back in the kitchen cooking breakfast. I was truly happy in those fleeting minutes before I got out of bed. That was the last time I’ve experienced that feeling. My life has been one excruciating horror after another since.
I walked back down stairs, and nearly fell to my knees when I saw a white scrunchy lying on the floor, and then noticed a dark blue scrunchy sitting on the same coffee table Joan had tossed the one I destroyed. I know Joan said she had bought eight of those little demons, but why would these two be here in the living room at this time? She normally kept her beauty items in the bathroom.
The warm feeling of contentment was rapidly fading as the gut wrenching fear began to creep into my body once again. A quiet rustling sound coming from the general area of the coffee table drew my attention in that direction. It was the sound of someone leafing through a magazine.
I turned and to my absolute horror, a third scrunchy had joined its partner on the table. Where it had come from I have no clue. Crawled up from the bowels of hell was my guess. I stared at the pair of evil hair fasteners, and watched trance like as they seemed to scoot closer together. I could feel what little grip on reality I had left start to strain and then slip away.
I marched passed the scrunchies, and almost sprinted into the kitchen. I was welcomed by the sound of dishes clattering as Joan was setting the table, and the sight of more vile demons. There was one on the counter by the sink, one sitting in the middle of the table, one peeking out from behind the glass cow shaped cookie jar sitting on the counter by the refrigerator, and one sitting among the cereal boxes on top of the refrigerator. I know this sounds completely ludicrous, but I could feel their beady little eyes watching me, almost taunting me.
Joan seemed oblivious to the whole thing. When I entered the kitchen, she looked up and smiled at me, but there was something different. The spark in her eyes was gone. Those normally gleaming blue orbs of hers were dulled almost to a gray. It was as if someone or something had sucked the life out of her.
She didn’t say a word as she turned her back to me to grab a bowl full of scrambled eggs sitting on the counter next to the stove, and that’s when I noticed yet another scrunchy tying her hair back. At that moment, I knew. Those damn scrunchies had taken my Joan, and left this hollowed out imposter. They had sucked out everything that made her precious like some sort of vampires. I came close to breaking down right there and crying like a baby.
A clinking by the sink worked its way across the room and cracked the cone of silence which had settled over the kitchen. I nearly gave myself whiplash I turned my head so fast to see what made the noise. There on the counter amongst the dirty dishes was another scrunchy. This one was white, and I know without a shadow of a doubt, it was staring me down. I could make out two small red eyes, and they were looking right at me filled with pure malice I was completely surrounded.
In those terror filled moments, I knew what I had to do. If anything was going to be able to put a stop to this madness before it got completely out of control it would have to be now. It would have to be me.
I know you think I am trying to make myself sound like a hero, but nothing could be farther from the truth. I didn’t feel brave or heroic in the least. What I actually felt like was pissing myself. I was so scared.
Everything kind of became cloudy at that point. I may have swooned I don’t really know. I do know I got up from the table, and without even a glance at Joan I made my way to our basement. I could feel their evil glares staring daggers through my back as I crossed the kitchen to the basement door.
I love the outdoors. Anything having to do with outdoor activities I am all over. Biking, hiking, fishing, and especially hunting are my real passions in life. I keep all of my equipment in our basement. This included my favourite 12 gauge Remington shotgun. I use it for squirrel hunting. It was this very weapon I knew would be the solution to the growing scrunchy problem which had somehow taken over my residence.
I could feel all of my senses shut down. Something inside me snapped. I was probably going into some sort of shock, but all I knew was I had to get my gun. The tunnel vision I experienced in the living room the night before returned, and it led me to the workbench where I kept my hunting items.
There hanging on the wall mounted gun rack, shining like a beacon of hope, was the Remington. It really is a beautiful weapon with its glossy black metal barrel and polished oak stock. It is a pump action and can hold as many as fifteen shells. It is completely state of the art, and I knew it wouldn’t let me down. It never had.
I loaded it unconsciously as images of the demons that had taken over my house and even worse my girlfriend played through my mind. There was no doubt though on what needed to be done, and what I was about to do. I had absolutely no second thoughts.
I pumped in the last shell with a satisfying ‘snick’ sound. I could hear Joan moving around upstairs. Sweet Joan, I had to save her. You have to understand, there was no other choice.
I slowly crept back up the basement steps. All of my hunter’s instincts were primed and ready. This was it; it was go time.
When I slinked through the basement door, the house was eerily silent. The kitchen was empty. I didn’t know where Joan was at. I quickly surveyed the entire room; looking everyplace I could remember having seen the demon scrunchies, but I didn’t see any. My nerves were shot at this point I was so on edge.
The oppressive silence which had fallen over the house was shattered by the ringing of the telephone. I was running totally on instinct by that point, and as soon as I heard the chirping ring of the phone, I spun towards the sound, brought the shotgun to bear, aimed, and fired. The telephone disintegrated into pieces of plastic shrapnel.
The blast from the gun was deafening, and the pungent sulp
hurous smell of gunpowder filled the immediate area surrounding me. I was so tense the recoil nearly dislocated my shoulder, but the pain was a secondary thought.
Whatever last thread of self control I had been able to maintain snapped in that first blast. I fired again and again at the places where I had earlier seen those damnable scrunchies. My first shot was by the sink shattering dishes, and then the table leaving a double fist size hole in the cherry wood, and finally on top of the refrigerator destroying the boxes of cereal being stored there.
I stood in the centre of the room desperately trying to catch my breath and stop the shaking which had taken control of my body as a rain of Rice Krispies and Fruity Pebbles bounced off my shoulders. I could still hear the echoing of the shotgun blasts as they bounced around the house or maybe it was only in my head. At that point, I honestly couldn’t say.
I walked into the living room. My feet felt as if they were encased in cement. It took all of my strength to lift each leg. With every step, my balance teetered and I was on the verge of falling over. If anyone had seen me, they would have sworn I was liquored up, but I think the truth of it was simply, I was terrified.
Then, and I swear to God, in slow motion, Joan came down the stairs and faced me. She turned those now dead eyes on me. I knew everything I loved was gone, and I could see just over the crown of her head a blue scrunchy glaring at me.
The crippling trembling raking my body stopped as an eerie calm settled over me. She stood a little over five feet away from me, and I knew it was now or never. I took a step back as the doppelganger trying to play itself off as my Joan raised its arm towards me and pointed its finger at my chest. The whole thing seemed surreal like it was all part of a bad dream.
Horror Express Volume Two Page 12