Grueberfest '06 R3 "Don't go into that barn" (1132 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 2 on 22 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Bigmike (View user info) at 2006-10-17 01:41:25 EDT
Jack and Michelle Casternak were living the American dream. Jack was a successful writer of crime novels and Michelle was his beauty queen. They had married and started a family, the proceeds of his wildly popular books keeping them all very comfortable. They owned a huge house out in the country, had no mortgage, and a steady stream of income. After their third child, J.R. was born, they thought that they were done. That was, until Michelle got pregnant one last time.
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Michelle looked down between her legs and saw the doctor concentrating. Her belly was swollen and the baby inside her was a writhing mass trying to get out. With every move of the fetus, Michelle cried out in pain. Her husband Jack was standing by her side, holding her hand, begging her to breathe and take her mind off of what was happening.
"PUSH MICHELLE! PUSH NOW!" The doctor said. She looked at him again and could see the concern in his eyes. His mask was rapidly moving in and out as if he were breathing heavily. His eyes bulging wide as he stared in between Michelle's shaking legs.
With a scream, Michelle closed her eyes and pushed as hard as she could. She could feel the veins in her neck bulging, a headache beginning to course steadily through her brain. At once she felt the baby shift and start to release from her body. She opened her eyes to see a huge gush of blood emit from between her legs and cover the doctors entire face and chest. She screamed again, louder this time and with complete horror. Jack let go of her hand and moved to the bottom of the delivery table she was lying on. From this vantage point he could see that the doctors entire gown, as well as a generous portion of the floor, was covered with Michelle's blood. He could also see the baby coming from inside Michelle.
The operating room was filled with his scream as he saw a small brown claw emerge from in between Michelle's legs, followed by a torrent of blood and bits of flesh and gore. He turned and ran from the room, listening to the sounds of his wife and the entire operating staff being torn to bits by whatever it was that came out of his wife.
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Jack woke up sweating profusely from the intensity of the dream. He sat up in his bed and noticed that he had soaked the sheets and blankets through once again. He reached for the light and turned the switch, flooding the bedroom with a soft glow. Then he grabbed his pack of cigarettes, pulled one out and lit it up. He looked around the room as he took a pull on the cigarette, inhaling the harsh, satisfying smoke into his lungs. He looked at the pictures of his wife and kids on the walls. There was he and Michelle on their wedding day, her in white chiffon and him in a jet black tuxedo. There was Sally cuddling a teddy bear and Cecilia swinging at the park. Then there was J.R. standing on the porch, showing off his new baseball glove, the one Jack had gotten him for his fifth birthday.
Then he started to remember the days following his son Simon's birth.
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Jack had gone home the next morning with grim news for his other three kids. Sally, who was the oldest at twelve, took the news of her mothers passing better than Jack expected. It was Sally who helped him console the other two kids that day. Cecilia was nine and J.R. was seven. J.R. was Jackson Robert, his fathers namesake and a wonderful little boy. Cecilia was the most emotional of the three and she cried all day. She cried as they all held each other in the living room of their country home. She cried as Sally gently ran a hand over her long blonde locks. She cried as Jack and J.R. sat silently lamenting on the passing of the woman who was the most important thing in all of their lives.
They also prayed. They prayed that their mother would have safe passage into heaven to meet up with Jesus, who would take care of her forever. They prayed that someday they would meet her there as well, and be reunited as one happy family. They also prayed for baby Simon, who was still in the hospital, hanging onto his life by barely the thinnest of threads.
Jack hadn't told them the whole truth about the incident at the hospital. He hadn't told them about Simon. He hadn't told them about the way they had Simon "incarcerated" in a special area all by himself, bound tightly while being studied. He hadn't told them about the claws.
Three weeks after the death of his wife in childbirth, Jack got a call from the hospital. Simon had been growing rapidly while there, becoming a little stronger and a little more vicious with each passing day. He had torn through his restraints in the middle of the night and had disappeared from the hospital. Nobody had seen him go, and the only two guards that were watching him were both dead. Jack was worried about this development, but there was really nothing that he could do about it except hope that Simon was caught before he could do any more damage to the general population.
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As he sat there remembering, he heard a noise downstairs. His ears perked up as he listened intently, waiting for it to be just a noise from the house settling, or a mouse that had gotten into the kitchen looking for a late night snack. After a few seconds he heard another noise, this one louder; more aggressive. He didn't bother with it right away though, he figured he was right about the mouse and he was used to noises in the night. Jack went back to reminiscing.
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It was about a week after the phone call from the hospital. Jack had retired to bed early after putting the kids to sleep. He was in the middle of a "Michelle" dream. In his dream he was with his wife, sailing the lake on their boat. They were locked in an embrace and she was gently stroking the left side of his face with the soft touch of her hand. He was becoming aroused when he woke up and found he was looking eye to eye with someone who had gotten into bed with him. Startled, he had sat bolt upright and quickly turned on the light. When he turned back to see who was in his bed, he saw a small bulge under the blanket next to where he was laying. He was puzzled for a moment because the kids never got into bed with him, they weren't allowed unless they knocked on his door first to let him know they were there. "J.R.?" He said and he reached over and pulled the blanket back to reveal a small figure huddled in the fetal position, eyes glaring up at him from under a small arm. It was then that he noticed the claw at the end of that arm and he had to stop the scream from escaping his lips.
Jack looked at the child laying in the bed and noticed that both hands had claws extending out from the wrist about ten inches. They were curved in a scythe-like manner and seemed to be very sharp at the tips. The child's head was completely misshapen, and it seemed like there was a large indentation where the forehead was. The eyebrows looked completely swollen and the eyes looked to be set very far apart. Unnaturally far. Jack wondered how this child could even see.
"Simon," he whispered as he sat there on the bed, wondering what his next move was. He didn't have to wait long. Simon, upon hearing his name, gave out a loud coo and quickly shuffled over to Jack, clutching to his waist and nestling his malformed head into Jacks chest. Simon moved quickly, but looked horrible doing so. He flailed his arms out like a seal and let his claws do all the work, dragging his body along behind. Jack listened to his coo's and felt the heat of his embrace as only a father could.
He sat up for the next few hours holding Simon and wondering what to do with him, wondering if he should call the police or the hospital. He settled on neither, smoking a few cigarettes before he brought him out to the barn. He wrapped Simon in a blanket and set him in a corner while he worked the rest of the night making a home that Simon could call his own.
From that point on, the barn would be off limits for the kids. The barn would be off limits for everybody except Simon.
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Jack was again brought out of his "daydream" by a noise downstairs. This one was even louder, and it sounded like someone was rummaging around. Jack got up quietly from his bed, squashed his cigarette out in the astray on the nightstand, and put on his pants and robe. He tiptoed over to the door and turned the doorknob, opening it gently. He stood there and listened for a few seconds. More shuffling downstairs. A drawer opening, a chairs shifting. He quickly stepped out into the hallway and closed the bedroom door behind him.
Walking softly down the hallway, he noticed that the doors to the kids rooms were closed like they always were. He stopped at each one and opened the doors silently, checking to see if each child was ok. The children were sleeping soundly so he continued down the hall. He carefully approached the top landing of the stairway leading downstairs. He stopped on the landing and looked down, straining to see if he could determine what was happening. The downstairs was dark, and from his vantage point, it sounded like someone was in his study, which was off of the living room just to the right of the stairway.
He slowly started down the stairs.
When he reached the bottom off the stairs, he took a quick right and continued into the living room. He was crossing the carpeted floor and just as he got to the door of the study he felt an intense pain at the base of his neck. The world went black.
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"Well, what the fuck are we gonna do now," Jack heard someone whisper as he woke up and found himself lying on his living room floor. He reached up with his right hand to feel the base of his neck. It was swollen, but he thought it would be all right.
"Hey, he's moving," came another voice. Jack remembered what had happened.
He was grabbed harshly by two sets of hands and thrown onto his couch. His eyes were becoming accustomed to the darkness, and he could make out the figures of two men standing over him, flashlights pointing downward. As if they could read his mind, they both raised their flashlights and pointed them directly into his eyes.
"Ok mister big shot writer, where you got all the money stashed?" One of the men said to him. Jack raised his arm to shield his eyes from the light, but he didn't say a word. Then he heard a click and felt something hard shoved into his ribs.
"Don't make me ask again, Jack Casternak. Where the fuck do you keep all the money?"
Jack knew that a gun had just been shoved into his side. His thoughts immediately turned to his kids. He wondered what the police would think when they found the whole family dead in a few days. Jack's mind started to race. He had to think of something.
"I don't have any money here," Jack said. "It's all tied up in stocks and bonds. It's all invested."
"BULLSHIT!" One of the men screamed and hit him hard on the side of his head. "I know you've got a fortune here somewhere, all you rich bitch writers have stashes in your houses. Do you think we're stupid? NOW WHERE IS IT?"
Jack thought the man was overly irritated. He might even be under the influence of drugs. Jack didn't know where the man had gotten the idea that he was rich, but he was thinking like crazy trying to figure out what to tell him.
Jack didn't want his family to die.
"I buried it," Jack said.
"FUCK, I KNEW IT!" One of the thieves said to the other. "I FUCKING KNEW IT! Where do you have it buried mister big shot? Let's get to digging."
Both men picked Jack up by his arms and began to lead him to the front door.
"No," Jack said. "It's in the barn."
Jack led the two men out the back door and across the yard to the barn. There was a thick chain securing the barn doors together, clasped by a huge padlock. As they approached the door, all three men heard some movement inside the barn.
"What you got in there Jack, horses?" The man on his left said to him.
"Yup, I've got horses. Nice horses." Jack replied.
The men got to the barn door and Jack reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a key ring. With the aid of one of the flashlights, Jack selected the right key and slid it into the lock. Once the lock was opened, he slid the chain through the handles on the barn door and gently eased the door open. The thieves were anxious and both rushed inside.
"Where is it you bastard? Where is it buried?" The men said as they flashed their lights around the barn.
"You'll find it," Jack said as he immediately closed the door and secured it with the chain and padlock before the men could react.
He heard the men throw their bodies up against the door, trying to get out. Jack had stepped back from the door, wondering if both men had the strength to force the door open. He heard a shot ring out and saw the dirt in front of him explode. They were trying to shoot the lock off the door. He stepped back even further and listened as the inside of the barn became quiet.
"LET US OUT OF HERE, YOU FUCK," screamed one of the men. Then he heard a loud bang inside the barn and one of the men said, "What the fuck?"
After that, Jack slowly started to walk back towards the house. He listened as the men started screaming and the walls of the barn shook with activity.
The screams ended quickly.
"Goodnight, Simon," Jack said as he walked up the stairs of the back porch. He entered the house, went to his study and picked up the mess that the thieves had made, and sat down at his computer.
He opened up his word program, thought for a minute, and started writing.
"Don't go into that barn"
By
Jack Casternak
In Memory of my loving wife Michelle.
User Reviews
Submitted by Sacrilicious (user info) at 2006-10-19 21:45:18 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Aww, he sounds like such a precocious little one.
Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2006-10-19 16:58:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
It'd have been very easy to just write Simon as a monster and resolve the story that way. Maybe have him go after the family and have the father put him down. But, goddamnit, you actually made me care about the little guy, and preserved the ideas of family and love while surrounding them with blood and carnage.
In short, I love you.
Submitted by Bigmike (user info) at 2006-10-18 08:58:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I'm glad you guys liked this.
Thanks.
Submitted by forensicgirl3 (user info) at 2006-10-17 17:59:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Weird!
Submitted by NetProphet (user info) at 2006-10-17 17:25:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
fweeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee
Submitted by TheUniter (user info) at 2006-10-17 15:55:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Nice.
Submitted by kaos-king (user info) at 2006-10-17 12:28:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
You make me so mad...
Submitted by Anansie (user info) at 2006-10-17 12:18:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Both entries were great. I'll let someone else decide.
Submitted by Bigmike (user info) at 2006-10-17 10:15:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-10-17 07:04:31 (#)
Ranking: 2
I was listening to the song at the time. I thought you'd appreciate it, being a Waits fan.
Cool with me, I had fun writing this once I had my initial idea.
I love Tom Waits.
Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2006-10-17 08:59:32 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
For some reason I kept reading "Jack McCallum" instead of "Jack Casternak" up until the very last part of the story...
Ace work.
Submitted by Happily_Agnostic (user info) at 2006-10-17 08:48:10 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
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Submitted by mbstateside (user info) at 2006-10-17 08:05:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Mbstateside back from the dead auto +2
Submitted by Method (user info) at 2006-10-17 07:07:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-10-17 07:04:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I was listening to the song at the time. I thought you'd appreciate it, being a Waits fan.
Submitted by Bigmike (user info) at 2006-10-17 06:54:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
I'm with you Berty.
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-10-17 02:10:51 (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm going to lose. I should've given you a worse title.
I don't know how you could have.
That is, unless you gave me "Midget Smegma Massacre" :)
Submitted by Berty (user info) at 2006-10-17 05:42:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
"Don't go into that barn"?
Who would by a book with such a corney title? I mean really...
Submitted by darko (user info) at 2006-10-17 03:57:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by YellowDragon (user info) at 2006-10-17 03:36:56 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Well played, sir.
Submitted by ColchesterDr (user info) at 2006-10-17 02:40:49 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Stagger_Lee (user info) at 2006-10-17 02:10:51 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I'm going to lose. I should've given you a worse title.
Didja bury your fire?
Yes sir.
Didja stay downwind?
Yes sir.
Did they see your face?
No sir.
Submitted by HotWillie (user info) at 2006-10-17 02:08:36 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by iradney (user info) at 2006-10-17 01:54:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment