Short Spontaneous Stories

The Death Call

I walked out of my warm house with a full trash bag in hand. I had no shoes on and the concrete was cold beneath them. I was just taking my trash to the dumpster, a pretty normal scene for a Wednesday night. I walked a few steps out the door and look up at the sky. The streetlamp made it hard for me to see the stars. I got a bit sad on the inside, for I love the stars. I sighed and continued on my walk to the trash.

The lights above the dumpster have been broken as long as I have lived here. Its always scary when you walk around there at night because you can never see if there are animals, broken glass, or even people over there. Especially with the reports I've been seeing on the news...

I reached to dumpster and threw my trash bag in. I turned on my heel to leave, only to feel a piece of glass shove itself into the bottom of my foot. I cried out in pain and sat myself down on the cold dirty ground. I looked at the bottom of my foot and a one inch cut was spurting blood. I could see the small sparkle of glass that was shoved in my flesh. My chin shivered and I bit at my tongue. A tear escaped from my eye.

I pulled myself off the ground and stood for a moment. I began to limp back to my house. Mom's gonna freak out when she sees this... She's gonna put peroxide on it... Fuck that'll sting.

I was about halfway to my door when, in the distance, I heard an airhorn sound off. Then once again. On the news they have been reporting about this huge group of peolple in gas masks who, at the sound of an airhorn, go around town and kill, destroy, or beat to death everything in their path. The Death Callers...

I heard the yells and whoops and hollars of what sounded like about 50 people. Their screams were malicious and evil to my ears. I was scared and began to hobble as fast as my bad foot would let me. I could hear the yells draw closer, and sure enough, there were six or eight people, clad in gas masks, running up my driveway. My adrenaline kicked in and I sprinted as fast as my bad foot would let me. Only ten feet to the door... The rabid laughter and banter grew closer and louder. Only five feet... Their right behind me. I hit the door and slammed it behind me. I locked it behind me and ran upstairs to my moms room. I grabbed and shook her.

'What's wrong?! Whats wrong?!' She was panicking.
'The death call! Their here!' I was hyperventilating and I could hardly speak.
'Lock the windows and doors!' She jumped up and to her window. Right as she clicked the lock shut, a gas masked face lounged at the glass. We're not making it out alive... Were both going to be beaten to death. My mothers beautiful face, bloody and bashed... No... God fucking damn it...No! My mother's hands grabbed my shoulders and snapped me out of my terror. She spoke steadily and slowly,
'Listen to me baby. I want you to lock up your windows and meet me in the bathroom. Okay?' I was sobbing and gasping on my own spit.
'O-o-kay mom.' She took off downstairs to lock the doors and windows. I staggered into my room and was headed for the window. My foot was still beeding and stinging into the carpet. There were three or four Death Callers below my window. All of them were whistling and cat calling at me. I felt sick to my stomach. These subhuman animals were hitting on me... I bit down on my tongue and could taste the copper of blood fill my mouth. I staggered from my room and into the bathroom, blood still staining the carpet beneath them. I finally made it into the bathroom. It was the only room in the house without windows... I sat against the wall and rocked back and forth. My mom came up the stairs and into the bathroom with me. She dimmed the lights and shut the door. She sat down next to me and put her arm around my shoulders. She quietly spoke kind words in my ear until daylight. Throughout the night we heard them break in our windows and raid our house. Were we're hidden well enough and they didn't find us. That following day, we replaced the glass on our windows into shatter proof glass, dead bolts on the doors and gun training for ourselves.

I will never forget the night I survived the Death Call.