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I step out into the late evening with my brand new Santa Cruz skateboard. To skate, or not to skate, that is the question. Skate. It is always skate. I jog down the driveway and complete a kickflip trick with satisfaction.
“Markus, where are you going?” Dad says.
“To the park.” I walk my board from side to side towards the front door.
“The park? Where is it?” I shrug my shoulders.
“I will find it. Every town has one.”
“Well... okay.” He licks his finger and wipes the food from my chin. I smile and then skate away.
The wheels’ hum echoes against the school pavement. Beads of sweat form on my brow. The Summer heat lingers above the empty parking lot.
I kickflip the board and then push off harder and harder. The wind buzzes in my ears like an irritating mosquito. I jump on the curb and slide six feet before falling on my butt.
Giggling rings across the road. My eyebrows knit as I glance to the right and left.
A girl the same age hovers over me laughing. I brush past her and skate to the other end of the parking lot. “Don’t be like that,” she says while she jogs after me waving my Android. I stop and glare at her.
“Where did you get that?” I snatch it out of her hand and stick it in my pocket. I push off and continue to peer at her at the same time I skate around her.
She smirks and says, “It’s one of my many talents.” I pause and gaze at her for a few seconds before pushing off again. “What’s your name?”
“Markus.”
“That’s a dumb name.” I glare at her. What is her deal? All I wanted to do was skate in this stupid parking lot in this idiotic town.
“What is your name?” I ask in a sarcastic tone.
“Andrea.”
“A-N-D-R-E-A,” I say. She stares at me with her beady eyes. I giggle and then skate away from her. She yells after me. I keep going and do not look back. Will she leave me alone? What did I do to her?
I stop at the top of a steep slope. It goes straight down. There are not any curves or dips. Once I start, I cannot slow down. I will... Footsteps echo behind me.
Andrea bends over as she pants. “This is Bunker Hill.“ I look at her for a second before I return my gaze to the road. “You’re probably not good enough to skate down this hill. You should go back to the parking lot.”
“I have skated down hills more dangerous than this one.” She laughs.
“You’re fibbing.”
“Have too,” I say.
“Prove it.”
“All right. I will.” I stare once more at Bunker Hill. The echo of my heart beating faster and faster rings in my ears. I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans.
“What are you waiting for? “
I peer at her and say, “I am planning my route.” She laughs.
“It’s a hill. It goes straight down. There’s your stupid route. I think you’re chicken.”
“Am not.” I say while I place my hands on my hips.
“Are too.” She flaps her arms and clucks like a chicken.
“Okay, okay.” Andrea stops. She stares at me and then gestures for me to go. I exhale before pushing off.
The skateboard rolls slowly at first. Then it moves faster and faster. It jerks from side to side. The board is moving too fast. I travel about 30 feet before I eat the pavement.
Andrea claps her hands dramatically and says, “Here’s the next Tony Hawk.” I glare at her as she picks up my board from the ravine that runs along the side of the road.
“What are you doing?”
“Let me give her a try? I can’t do any worse.”
I peer at her and slowly say, “Be careful. The skateboard is new.” She runs to the top of Bunker Hill and stops. I jog up behind her. “What are you waiting for?”
“The perfect time.”
“Huh? What do you mean?” We stand at the top of the slope in complete silence for about five minutes.
A diesel truck beginning its climb echoes along the road. Andrea smirks at me. And then pushes off.
Instead of traveling straight down, she travels from side to side. I am a moron. Why didn’t I think of that?
The eighteen-wheeler gets louder and louder as the headlights come into view. What is Andrea doing? She heading straight for the diesel truck. It blares its horn. She jumps off the board at the last few seconds. She cackles while she runs into the night.
“No,” I scream. The truck drives over my skateboard with a loud crunch. Pieces of fiberglass spray everywhere. It is like dropping a lightbulb on cement.
The driver shakes his fist and says, “You stupid kids. I could have killed you.”
I kick what is left of my board over to the side of the road. What is wrong with her? There is something mental about that girl.
I begin my long walk home with my head down and my fists clenched. If I ever see her again, she will regret it. I do not care that Andrea is a girl.
About a block from my house, I spot a bunch of kids my age playing in the street. They are kicking a soccer ball back and forth. One of the scrawny boys notices me and says, “You look like you had a run-in with Andrea.”
I peer at him for a moment. “How did you know?”
He walks over and leans on my shoulder. “You didn’t ask if you could play with us.” I grin as I begin to walk away.
“Don’t worry about Andrea. She picks on everyone. So, do you want to play soccer? We are one man short.” I smile at him.
“Sure.” His face becomes real serious.
“You’re probably not any good.” He takes a few steps and then turns around and smirks. Maybe this town is not so bad after all.
I slam the front door and yell, “Dad, where are you?” The clanging of dishes echoes from the kitchen. He looks at me and smiles.
“What seems to be the trouble?” He sets two soup bowls on the kitchen table.
“It is Andrea.”
“Who?”
“She is a girl I met at the park.” Dad chuckles.
“What happened?” Dad says as he sets a pot of red liquid in the center of the table.
“A truck ran over my new board.”
Dad laughs again. “How did that happen? You didn’t see the headlights?”
I shake my head in frustration. “Andrea did it on purpose. She is the town bully.”
Dad takes a bite from his bowl. “Wow, this is much better than yesterday’s. Try some.”
“You are avoiding the conversation.”
“What do you want to do?”
“Revenge.”
“Absolutely not. Look around.” Unopened cardboard boxes are stacked in the living room. The kitchen has several boxes on the counter and on the floor.
“I’m sure it was an accident. Besides, we have only been here a couple of days. Andrea will get bored and move on to the next poor soul.”
“You may be right.” My Dad nods and then smiles. We finish eating our dinner in silence.
I enter my room to go to bed. A gentle breeze rocks the curtains back and forth. That is odd. I do not remember opening the window. It might have been Dad. I shrug and lie down.
A loud bellowing yawn rings through the small room. I close my eyes and begin to...
The sound of scissors opening and closing echoes in my ears. I open my eyes and listen. Nothing. “Dad, are you in here?” No answer. The only sound is the wind singing its goodnight song.
I close the window. A soft, sinister giggle rings along the walls of my small cubicle. I turn around. My heart skips a beat. The room is too dark to see anything.
I flip the lights on and scan the room. Nothing. My ears must be playing tricks on me. Andrea has me on edge. I lie down and stare at the ceiling.
The dull end of a large pair of scissors press against my neck. “Don’t move,” Andrea whispers. The echo of my heart thumping faster and faster rings in my ears.
“Wha, what do you want?” She laughs.
“Don’t tell anyone about tonight or you’ll be sorry.”
“I, I will.”
“Don’t move until I leave.” I nod my head. Andrea releases the scissors from my throat. She shuffles around my room and then jumps out the window.
I stare into the darkness for about ten minutes. I can not believe what just happened. She is more than the town bully.
I turn on the lights and bolt the window shut. My heart is still pounding. Sweat drips into my eyes as I pace back and forth.
A pink piece of paper barks at me from the dresser. “YOU’LL BE SORRY” is sprawled across the paper. I stare at the note for a few minutes. Without thinking, I crumple the paper and throw it across the room. With my fists clenched, I lie down and think of ways I can get revenge. Andrea must pay.
“Wake up sleepy head,” Dad says. I rub the eye boogers out of my eyes.
“What time is it?”
“Three hours past dusk.” Dad turns to leave.
“Andrea paid me a visit last night.” He stops at the door and stares at me for a moment.
“What are you going to do about it?”
I shake my head while I say, “Nothing.”
“Good.” He smiles and then leaves.
I enter the kitchen. A swarm of bugs crawl back and forth across the table. They scatter as I sit down to fix myself a bowl of last night’s dinner.
The echo of a basketball rings in the night air. I head down the street with a smile on my face. I pass by a group of kids tossing a football. The skinny kid from last night waves and motions me to come over to where he is standing.
I bounce the basketball with my left hand as I walk towards him. I stop a few feet in front of him and spin the ball on the tip of my long finger nail.
“Pretty good. You should play for the Lakers.” We grin at each other.
“I just realized. I do not know your name.” I say.
“Logan.”
“I am Markus. Nice to meet you.” We shake hands in a joking manner.
“Wow, you have the same name as the ghost story,” Logan says.
I lean in closer. “Ghost story? Tell me more.”
“Have you heard of Jack the Ripper?” Logan bounces the ball while he waits for me to answer. I nod and make a hook with my hand. “Don’t do that.” He punches me in the arm.
“About thirty years ago, Markus and his dad Desmond went around town ripping people’s throats out.”
“With a hook?” I ask. Logan’s eyebrows pinch closer together.
“No, with their fangs.” I hiss and bare my teeth. I take a step away from Logan.
“What is that smell? It smells like rotten eggs.” Logan smirks. “Why are you smiling?”
“I farted. Heh, heh.” I steal the basketball and dribble it ahead of him.
We stop in front of a two-story house. A For Sale sign hangs on its hinges. The grass looks like it has not been mowed in years.
“Why are we here?” I say.
“The neighborhood basketball court is in the backyard.” I shrug and follow Logan to the back.
“Do you want to play H-O-R-S-E?” He stares at me with a puzzled look. I shoot. The ball bounces off the backboard and falls into the basket. “Now, you try. You have to stand on the same spot.”
Logan shoots. The ball hits the rusty rim and then bounces away on the concrete.
“H,” I say. He laughs.
“I wasn’t even trying.” I shoot a free throw. The ball falls through the chain net. Logan jumps and shoots. The ball hits the back of the rim and then drops into the basket. He runs around the court mimicking the sound of a crowd cheering.
“I will make it harder for you.” I shoot a hook shot with my left hand. Cling, clang. The ball hits nothing but a chain. Clapping echoes across the pavement. I turn my head.
We glare at Andrea smiling. “What do you want?” I say.
“To play B-ball. Why else would I be here?”
“I told Logan about last night.” Andrea peers at Logan as she walks onto the basketball court.
“Boo.” Logan stumbles. He jumps the fence and rustles across the neighbor’s yard. I wait until I can no longer hear the thump of his footsteps and then turn and look at her.
“What do you want?” I demand.
“To make your life miserable.”
“How about a truce?” I hold out my hand. Andrea brushes past me and picks up the ball and bounces it around the court.
“How about a game of one-on-one? If I win, I will continue to make your life miserable. If you win,l... Well, we’ll see.”
“I do not like those odds.” She dribbles the ball and looks at me with a sinister smile.
“What choice do you have?”
I shrug and say, “Okay.” Andrea shoots from the free throw line and it goes in with ease. “Hey, I was not ready.” She rubs her eyes with her fists and imitates a baby crying.
“Are you ready?” Andrea says.
“Yeah, I am ready.” She bounces the ball through her legs several times before she jumps to shoot.
I leap with her. As she shoots, I put my hand up. My palm hits the basketball. It bounces along the court and rattles the fence. I grab it and look at her with a smirk.
“You are toast. Are you ready to eat my dust?” I do not wait for an answer. I dribble the ball through her legs and make an easy layup. Andrea spins around like a top. She looks dizzy. She can not figure out what just happened.
I wait for her at the free throw line. Andrea has a serious look on her face. I smile. Her eyebrows scrunch together like a vampire in the horror movies.
I fake to the right and then dribble to the left for another easy layup. Andrea’s ears become as red as a tomato. “Are you getting mad?” I say in a sarcastic tone.
“Just play.” With my left hand, I shoot a hook shot. The ball easily drops through the rusty chain.
An evil laugh rings across the court. Uh, oh. What is Andrea going to do?
A pair of scissors shimmer in the moonlight as she opens and closes them. I take a few steps back. I look around to see where I can run. She looks at me with her crooked, evil smile.
Andrea takes a few steps toward me and then stops. She picks up the ball and grins. “Don’t worry. I’m not going to use these on you.” She raises the scissors above her head and strikes the basketball.
The hissing echoes against the concrete. She tosses the ball at my feet. She cackles and hops the chain-link fence. I stare at the basketball. I wait until I can no longer hear her laughing. My hands curl into a fist as I kick the ball across the court.
I slam the front door and stomp my feet to my room. My cell phone chimes. “YOU’LL BE SORRY” displays on the screen.
I search the house screaming, “Dad.” My voice vibrates along the walls. Nothing. Where is my Dad? He is usually doing some kind of small project.
I open the attic door. Empty. Nothing but spiders, cobwebs, and two coffins.
I slide the glass door and walk along the path that leads to the backyard. My Dad is pouring some kind of liquid into the pool. He looks up and smiles.
“It is almost ready. Do you want to go for a swim?”
“Are you kidding me? The last thing I want to do is go for a swim. Andrea poked a hole in my basketball.” I show him the deflated ball.
“You can always get another basketball.” I glare at him for a moment.
“That is not the point.”
“That is the point. We can’t draw attention to ourselves. You need to let this go.”
“Look at this?” I show him the text from Andrea. He stares at the screen and then looks at me.
“What you need to do is cool off.”
“What do you mean?” Dad smiles. And then he pushes me. I lose my balance and fall into the pool with a splash.
“Do you feel better?” Dad says as he chuckles. I wipe the water from my eyes and then splash him.
Dad grins and offers me a hand. I grab it and pull with all my strength. He stumbles into the pool and creates a small tidal wave.
Two powerful hands grab my ankles and pull me under the water. My Dad’s deep laugh echoes across the pool. I can not help but feel a little better.
“Let’s go get some dry clothes on.” I nod with a smile.
I putter around my room and play my two favorite video games. But I can only play Mario Kart and Super Smash Bros for so long before I get bored.
I explore the attic. There is not much to see but lots of dust, cobwebs, and different sized spiders. A huge arachnid blocks my path. I spit a loogie on it before I dash to the other side of the loft.
A blanket of dust covers two caskets. I wipe the dust off the first name plate. “Desmond” shimmers in the dimly lit attic. With my shirt, I wipe the second name.
“Markus, are you up there?”
“Yeah.”
“Come on down.”
Dad leads me to the pool and hands me a pole with a mesh net on the end. “I’m tired of you sitting around your room pouting. You need to get some fresh air. It’s not healthy for our kind.” He ruffles my hair and walks away.
A thin layer of leaves covers the pool. With a swoop and swap, I clear the debris from the water.
The pool shimmers in the moonlight. It is too inviting. “Jump in,” rings in my ears. I strip down to my Wolverine underwear and dive into the pool.
The water is refreshing. I swim the length of the pool. My Dad is right. This is what I need. I swim to the other end of the pool as fast as I can.
A faint giggle whispers in the gentle breeze. I scan the treeline that runs along the perimeter of the pool. Nothing. It must be my imagination.
I take a deep breath and swim along the bottom of the pool. I kick harder and harder. Then two hands grab my ankles and pull me in reverse. The nails dig into my skin as I twist and turn. The grip loosens and I burst to the surface.
Andrea smiles. Then she jumps on top of me. I plunge to the pool’s floor. Two feet stand on my back. I push up about an inch before Andrea’s weight forces me down again.
My heart beats faster and faster. A lingering ache comes to the surface of my sternum. It feels like someone is pushing a knife into my chest. The pain gets more intense with each passing moment. I stop fighting. I am going to...
The cackling echoes in the distance. I can not believe what just happened. Andrea tried to kill me. It is time for REVENGE! Who knows? Logan may want to help. I grab my clothes and run into the house.
Dad hums as he stirs the thick, red liquid cooking on the stove. He stares at me for a moment and then bellows a loud laugh.
“Can’t find your swimming trunks?”
I glare at him for a second. “Do you have any idea what happened to me while you were busy preparing dinner?” He raises his eyebrows. “Andrea tried to drown me.”
Dad stops smiling. “Oh, really.”
“Can I have my revenge?”
He nods. “It’s a shame. We’ll have to move again. I’ve always liked this town.” I smile as I walk to my room.
The chime of my Android echoes in my small room. I glance at the screen. “I AM AT THE DOOR.” The doorbell rings over and over.
I rush from my room while Andrea enters the living room. Her clothes are dry and her hair is not even wet. How is that even possible? I stare at her while she sits down and clunks her boots on the coffee table.
“Why are you here?”
Dad smiles and says, “She’s here to join us for dinner.”
I look at Andrea and then at Dad. “What?”
Andrea smiles. “Your Dad invited me.” I glare at both of them for a couple of seconds. Then I grin. “You’re giving me the creeps.”
Dad places the steaming pot in the center of the table. Andrea looks at the pot and says, “What is it?”
“It’s an old family recipe,” Dad says. She sniffs it like a dog and then takes a bite from her bowl.
She sprays it in my face. “That’s gross. It tastes like blood!”
I wipe my eyes and snicker. I look at my Dad and say, “I guess she figured out the family recipe.” We cackle in unison.
“You’re kidding. Right?”
We shake our heads. “I am going to show you a magic trick.” I nod at my Dad. He grins.
I place my hand on the coffee table. Andrea stares at it and then says, “What happens next?” Dad grabs an ax from the wall. Whack! My hand falls on the carpet.
“Whoa!” She jumps to her feet.
“Here is the cool part.” I show her the stump where my hand used to be. It begins to grow. Within a few minutes, I wiggle my new fingers.
Andrea’s eyes widen as she glances around the room. The echo or her rapid heartbeat rings in my ears. “How, how is that even possible?” she says.
“Have you heard of the horror story about Desmond and Markus?” She slowly nods.
“Well, you already know my name.” I take a bow. “Let me introduce you to Desmond.” He grins and then shows Andrea his fangs.
“You’re, you’re vampires.” She staggers back.
“You silly girl. You can not drown a vampire.” I take a step forward. She turns to run. “Ooh, a hunt. I love a good chase.”I cover my eyes and count backwards from ten. “Ready or not, here I come!”
I tap to the rhythm of the music as Dad drives the Uhaul truck along the deserted highway.
Dear Reader,
Thank you for reading “Creepy and Scary Tales: A Collection of Short Stories.” Please take a few minutes and leave a review, so that other readers can have as much fun as you did. Once again, thank you!
