(A collection of short horror stories)
(Horror story two)
{2} ~ On a different scale.
"Terry! Terry!" Terry's mother, Mrs Jones, shouted from downstairs. The twelve year old sighed and stood up from his desk. He paused the horror movie on the screen of his computer and adventured downstairs. His mind was still focused on the horror movie he had just been watching upstairs. Blood guts and gore was perfect for Terry, and Terry was perfect for blood, guts and gore. But he wanted more of it, and had already bought most of the horror films he knew existed.
And to be honest, they all bored him a little.
"Terry!" His mother grew impatient. He stormed into the kitchen and stood in-front of his glamorous mother. She adjusted her dingily earrings and patted some Vaseline on her lips. Her brown hair (that was in firm grip of perfect rolls) bounced about on her shoulders as she moved. She sighed as she heard the taxi beep from outside the patio. She pushed a ten pound note into Terry's hand and opened the door. "Order a pizza or summat. I won't be back too late," She was about to close the door when another thought popped into her head. "And don't forget to feed Dangle."
The door slammed and Terry stood there, wondering what to do next. He looked over at Dangle's basket on the floor and kicked it. The golden terrier awoke from her dream and barked at Terry. The mutt had never really liked Terry, for he was a foul young boy with no plans to do with the dog. Terry laughed, kicked the basket again and walked upstairs. Dangle was too hungry to complain about anything, so she followed him in sync, hoping to find some food from Terry's flee-ridden bedroom.
As soon as Terry got upstairs, he pressed play on the DVD he was watching and shut the door right on the dogs nose. It groaned in pain. The evil scientist was in the middle of tying up the horse, ready to pull out its minor organs. Terry wildly laughed and thought how fun it would be to do that. He shoveled more popcorn into his mouth. The mutt from outside his door started to bark and, frankly, Terry had had enough. He went over to the door and shouted at the dog, before kicking it aside.
"Stupid dog. Why can't I do to you what that scientist does to that horse,"
Something even more evil than himself clicked in his brain that day, and a horrid, gruesome and grim thought popped into his mind. He grabbed the string, gritty curtain drape thing from his curtains and opened his door. He grabbed hold of Dangle and, tying up the poor girls feet, dragged her down into the deserted basement.
That night, The Roger family lost a dog to their brutal son. Most children couldn't even dream of killing their beloved pet, but Terry got such a thrill from it. Watching his dog die painfully was giving him such an adrenaline rush. He couldn't help it. He listened to the dog whine and moan as its body was sown or cut or broken. Terry even recorded it.
The next day when his mother and father required about Dangle, he just said that he had fed it and went to bed. He had to move the decaying body, he thought, but how? That night, he sneaked into the basement with some air cleaner, blood stain removal and a black bin bag. He shoved the body into the bag and spent the rest of the night cleaning and getting rid of all evidence. He then tossed the body into next doors bin and watched as the bin-men came to remove their rubbish. He chuckled as he watched the man carry his dog away.
"I want more!" He shouted at the back of the truck. The next door neighbor ginger cat, Milky, meowed on the big black fence and stretched out. Terry smiled and reached out for the creature. The cycle continued. At nights, he would sneak out and find new animals to torture, before listening to them howl and cleaning away all evidence.
Before long, it was fair to say that he was bored and wanted bigger fish to fry. He planned out every maneuver possible. He wanted a horse, but knew not of where to get an alive one. He wanted a cow, but on the studies he did on his body, found out that he wasn't strong enough to carry one. Then, another evil, horrific and terrifying idea came to his mind.
That night, he opened up his window and shimmied down the drainpipe. The air was cold and icy, but Terry didn't mind. He wrapped his scarf around him more and traveled down to the nearest bus stop. He smiled as he saw a tramp sleeping on the bench, his stolen shopping trolley full of his belongings. Terry tipped them all out as quite as he could then lifted the starving tramp into the trolley, before he wheeled it back to his basement. He lifted up the body and, shoving a sock into its mouth and tape across it, threw him down the stairs.
The tramp woke and started screaming, but the tape and sock helped to muffle the noise. Terry chuckled, climbed down after him and tied him up, before doing his dirty work to him.
In early hours of the night, the poor, ill, defenceless man died. Terry shoved his amputated body parts into a bag and shoved them into next doors rubbish bin. He then went back to the cellar to clean up the mess.
The next night, Terry climbed out of the window again. He walked down the street to a bus stop, but found no homeless person there. Then he traveled to the next with the same outcome. He was beginning to feel tired and weary. He sat down at the next bus stop he came to and found himself drifting off into an unmarked sleep.
He was awoke by pain souring through his body. He cried out in pain as his arm twisted around his back, but his scream was muffled by tape and a sock. He was blindfolded too. He kept screaming but stopped when he heard someone chuckle. There was a sound like someone coming down some metal ladder steps. He cried out for help, but it came out as 'hap!'. The voice chuckled again.
He was lifted up and sat down. His hands were undone from behind his back, but then strapped to wherever he was sat. A cold, icy hand gripped his neck and hot breath was pressed against his cheek.
"I've been wanting a new victim. A young one. I want to hear you scream," He let go of his neck, before doing all the gruesome things that Terry had done to all his victims.
Terry later emerged that day, with one hand, two fingers, one ear, half a lip, no nose, one eye, two legs but no feet, but the difference was; He was in a black bin bag.
