Spits on Graves

"I'll only be gone for the weekend," said Barbara. She gave Adam a hug and a kiss on the cheek. "You take good care of your little brother." Turning to walk out the door, she looked back at Adam pointing a finger at him. "No parties either, mister. I don't want anything out of place or broken."

"Of course not, mom," said Adam. "Have a good time on your trip." Adam smiled and waved as his mother walked out the front door.

Later that day, he went to the refrigerator to make a sandwich for him and his brother, Timmy, who was in the backyard playing with the family dog, Cooper.

Suddenly, Timmy tripped over a hump on the ground. Sitting himself back up, he grabbed his knee and let out a loud screech.

Startled by the shriek, Adam ran outside. "What happened? Did Cooper hurt you?" he asked. Looking up and down Timmy's knee, a large brown bruise lay on his knee cap. "You really shouldn't be so reckless with Cooper," said Adam.

"I tripped on something on the ground. It hurts really bad," said Timmy, with tears rolling down his face. Timmy laid on his back and grabbed his knee, whimpering.

Cooper ran over to the hump in the ground, growling and barking. Cooper lifted his leg, urinating. A cold wind blew through the trees. Cooper whined, putting his head down and walked in his dog house.

"Cooper, what's wrong buddy? Come out here," said Adam.

"Well, fine then. Come on, Timmy. Let's get you inside." Adam picked up Timmy and carried him back to the living room and set him down on the couch.

Adam went to the bathroom and grabbed a Toy Story band aid. Returning to the weeping child, he checked his brother's elbows for scratches and covered them with the band aid.

"You're going to be fine, buddy, just lay down and try to relax." Adam turned on the television, letting Nickelodeon play. Putting a blanket over Timmy, he smiled at the now sleeping child.

Adam put in his headphones and sat back in the recliner next to Timmy. Taking a deep breath, he shut his eyes to take a power nap.

The music that Adam was listening to had stopped playing an hour later. He woke up to the sound of Cooper barking louder and louder.

"Cooper, shut up out there," Adam said.

Cooper made a loud squeal, then nothing. Adam walked to the back porch to see what was wrong. Before he could open the back door, there was Cooper's body lying by the back door, his head facing directly toward his back. Adam let out a gasp. He covered his mouth and tried not to scream so he wouldn't wake up Timmy. He opened the door and picked up Cooper's corpse and put him back to his carrier. After setting him down, he ran to look around to find who killed Cooper but there was nobody around.

There were, however, sounds of laughter from what sounded like a raspy old man.

"Who's out there?" Adam spun around to try and spot whoever was laughing. "It's real fucked up to kill someone's dog. Show yourself, asshole," said Adam. The sun was setting and it was getting harder to see. "Get out here coward."

"You disturbed my resting place and soiled my grave."

The back porch door slammed shut. A scream was heard from inside the house. He ran back up the porch and swung the back door open. The screaming was now masked with the sound of white noise coming from the television in the living room. Upon entering the living room, Timmy was nowhere to be seen. The blanket covering Timmy simply lay on the couch as if somebody laid it out flat. Glass antiques were shattered and spread all over the floor. Above the white noise, the same voice could be heard again through the TV, "This house was built with my own bare hands. Now, you come and defile my home and my grave." Sounds of screaming came from upstairs.

Adam ran up the stairs, following the sounds of Timmy's screams. Upon reaching the second floor, Adam ran down the right hallway where his brother awaited him in his bedroom.

The door to the room was cracked just enough for Timmy and Adam to make eye contact. Timmy, screaming his brother's name, tried to run at Adam and get out of the room but the door slammed shut and locked itself before he could escape. Adam ran at the old rusty door and slammed his fist against the door and said, "Open up, you sick bastard. Timmy, don't worry. I'm going to get you out of there. You're going to be okay." Adam backed up and charged at the door knocking it down.

The screaming stopped and the only sound being made was Timmy sobbing. There appeared to be someone hiding under the blankets. Adam approached the blanket, taking long, slow steps. "Timmy? It's okay, Timmy. I'm here now. Nothing's going to scare you any longer." He pulled the blanket away and saw his little brother with his head tucked between his legs sobbing.

Timmy moved his head up and looked at his older brother. He looked past Adam and began crying again. "He's right behind you," he said pointing over Adam's shoulder.

Adam slowly turned his head around and saw a dark shadowy figure flee into the open closet. He grabbed a baseball bat sitting in the corner of the room and brought it up in a swinging position. Taking long steps toward the closet, he said, "Come out and fight coward."

He was as close to the closet as he could get without going in. "Fight me, pussy!" Adam swung inside the closet, but something grabbed it out of his hands. "What the fuck?" Adam took a step back. A dark and rotting hand grabbed him by the shirt and yanked him into the closet. The closet doors slammed shut.

Timmy was alone now. There was no screaming, no crying. It's almost as if it never happened. "Big brother?" said Timmy. "Please don't hurt my big brother," he said, crying. The closet door opened again with a creaking sound.

"You want to see your brother again?" The voice came from the closet. An old rotting hand emerged from the closet and motioned for Timmy to come into the closet. "Come, and you will never have to leave his side."

Timmy got up from the bed and walked toward the closet. Tears rolling down his eyes, the same cold hand grabbed him by the head and led him inside. The closet door shut.

The next day, Barbara arrived back home. "Adam?"

No response.

"Timmy?"

Again, no response.

"They must be upstairs asleep. It is pretty early," Barbara said. She went up to Timmy's room. Barbara gasped when she saw a broken-down door. Walking inside the room, she covered her mouth at the sight of the blood smeared on the wall that spelt, "Leave my house."

Barbara ran down stairs and grabbed the phone from the wall. "911 this is— "

Her neck snapped and she fell to the ground leaving the phone dangling off the wall.