Let's Play in the Garden (29 page)
Read Let's Play in the Garden Online
Authors: John Grover
She grabbed the shotgun and pointed it at him, and with tears in her eyes, pulled the trigger. The blast took her off her feet again as she hit the second floor hard.
Tobey’s chest was blown out and he went flying down the stairs again. This time he did not move. Merydith let a scream spill out of her.
As she climbed to her feet again, she caught movement out of the corner of her eye. A tentacle whipped out at her, but she slid out of the way. It missed her by inches, impaling the floor with its thorns. The shotgun was empty so she threw it at the monster out of anger before running down the stairs. She leapt over Tobey’s body as she ran outside.
The road. I’ve got to get to the road. Tobey would want me to. He’d want me to make it.
She made a run for the front of the yard and toward the driveway but something tangled her foot. Pain bit into her leg as what looked like tree roots or vines wrapped around her and sank their barbs into her flesh.
They moved as if alive. They were alive! Merydith looked over at the garden walls and saw more vines and plants slithering over the walls and from beneath it. They moved over the broken gate.
“No!” Merydith cried. She pulled her leg and tore at the vines with her bare hands, ripping until she was free. A roar escaped the house. Thuds echoed.
She glared at the road. It was too late. It was coming.
Merydith pulled herself up and limped around the other side of the house, frantically making her way to the cellar, the workshop. She hurled herself down the stairs trying to ignore the pain and slammed the doors behind her. She waited, hiding under the table in the lab. She couldn’t hear a thing. There was only silence. No movement from above.
Then a bell jingled.
It was the very bell that was used to summon Simon when it was time to come out of the workshop. It jingled on its chain. She covered her ears and stayed under the table, the fear in her spreading as she trembled uncontrollably.
The bell stopped and again there was silence, deafening silence, until a crash shook the cellar doors. They blew open, both warping under the intense pressure and sailing off their hinges like dead leaves in the wind.
The monster thundered down the stairs into its birthplace. Recognizing the lab and its contents, it began destroying everything, a seething hatred fueling it. It smashed tools and glass, crushed cabinets and spilled chemicals. Within seconds it threw aside the table Merydith was hiding under.
She stumbled to her feet and screamed, her eyes wide, her heart slamming against her chest. Slowly, the beast stalked her from one corner of the room to the other, deliberately, matching her every step, taunting her, teasing her, playing with the last of its prey.
Its tentacle shot at her like a whip, but she managed to dodge out of the way until she was finally backed into a corner. Merydith froze as it advanced on her. She could see the pain and hatred burning in its eyes. She knew the rest of the family had gotten what they deserved, but she’d felt she was only helping its cause. She was on its side. She was an innocent pawn in their twisted evil…as it was.
It stomped toward her and she prepared to die. Its hot breath rushed over her face, and she knew she was seconds from ending it all, the memories, real and false, the lies, the nightmares, the guilt. She was ready. She was a freak just as everyone said, and now, finally, she was ready to die.
She closed her eyes and sank to her knees as it raged toward her, and, unwittingly, the word escaped her lips. She blurted it out without even thinking. It was as natural as rain running off the roof.
“Father!”
The monster paused. Its head cocked to one side as the rage in its eyes lessened. “Father,” she said softly, and it let down its guard.
He
lowered his arm and tentacle and just stared at Merydith, who eased herself to her feet. A soft, sad moan escaped him.
Merydith felt it fill her from top to bottom, and she reached an arm out to him. He in turn lifted his good arm toward her. Slowly, she made her way toward him, running the fingers of her left hand over the nearest worktable until they settled on a burning oil lamp. She took hold of it and eyed the beast.
“Father,” she murmured. “You have to die.” With tears in her eyes, she hurled the oil lamp directly at him.
It screamed as the lamp smashed upon its hulking body, lighting it up in flames. Together they wailed as Merydith watched the fire engulf him and turn his green flesh black. It shriveled and turned to ash. The smell hit her head on—scorched meat and death, the stench of the pit and the grave, the burning of hatred and rage, the scent of anguish and pity.
She watched its skin peel off and blow in the blistering winds of the flames. Screams of torment and agony filled her ears until she believed she’d go deaf. Her feet were numb and her blood ran cold. Her arms trembled uncontrollably as she stood and watched the last of her kind die.
It collapsed to the floor of the now ruined lab in a smoldering fireball, the flames catching the pools of spilled chemicals. In no time, the entire workshop was ignited and burning a bright orange…
Thick black smoke filled the room and billowed out of the doorway, Merydith ran with it, coughing and wheezing all the way. She ran forever and ever, it seemed, until finally returning to the house. She made her way to Tobey’s lifeless body and huddled next to him, holding him against her, cradling him. The sound of fire licking at the outside walls caught her ears and she stared into Tobey’s still eyes. Getting up, she took hold of his arms and dragged him down the hallway. Her clothes dirty, her face smudged, her body bruised and dripping with sweat, she pulled him all the way up the stairs and to her room. She opened her closet and pulled him inside with her. She wanted to die in her room with her brother.
Finally, mercifully, she passed out, hoping she would die in the onrushing fire.
25. Withering
Someone in the town actually cared. Some good-hearted, good-willed person reacted and saved the house. The smoke rose into the sky and alerted the town to a fire burning down by Henman’s Copse. They all knew it was the Santaneen home, or, at least, they hoped it was. They wanted it to burn, but someone had called the police and fire department. Officer Jenkins took the call and had to see for himself. He watched the rescue workers put out the fire in the workshop just in the nick of time and save the house.
Jenkins and his buddies combed the yard, entered the garden, and scoured the house. They examined the workshop. Places no one had been in, ever. Never in the history of Willington had they seen such carnage, such insanity and murder. The worst mass grave anyone had ever seen.
They carried the body of Mrs. McCormick out past Jenkins. Next, he watched in disbelief as they carried the mutilated bodies of the Santaneen family—Simon, Marion, and Gladys. They did not find Merydith or Tobey. They did find the beast, only traces of ash and bone inside the workshop. That bewildered Jenkins the most. Try as he might, he couldn’t wrap what it was around his head. He just stared at it in mute disgust. Whatever it had been, he was glad it was dead.
Damn, looks like some messed up animal or something…plants have even grown through the corpse. How long has it been in here?
“Hey, weren’t there children who lived here?” Jenkins asked. “Where are the bodies?”
“Who the hell knows,” his buddy, Merril, answered, sipping his coffee. “Who the hell cares? We don’t know if there’s any more of them. Besides, we’ve searched enough. Let’s just get the hell out of this place. It gives me the creeps.”
More policemen carried tanks of blood out of the workshop, along with the tools of Simon’s murder spree. They’d finally solved the mysteries of Henman’s Copse.
“Now we know what’s been happening out on Route 109 and who was responsible,” Jenkins said to Merril. “They probably got into a hell of a fight about it and killed one another. One of them even tried to destroy the evidence by burning down the house. Thank God this case is closed. We won’t be hearing from the Santaneens ever again.”
The ambulance drove off with the bodies, and the police left the scene with the evidence. Jenkins and Merril were the last two remaining at the scene. Jenkins put up some yellow tape before they left. “Hey, Merril, did you see that huge garden back there? I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“Me neither. Let’s just get out of here. There’s something not right about it.”
They drove off in silence.
###
In the house, life stirred. She woke puzzled, dazed, amazed that the house still stood and that she was still alive. Merydith climbed over Tobey’s body and out of the closet. No one had bothered to look there.
She walked slowly down the stairs, entered the kitchen, and filled the teakettle with water. “I do think a nice lunch is in order, don’t you?” she asked, taking the silver oval tray out of the cabinet and setting it on the counter.
She placed three teacups and rose-colored napkins on the tray then put a tea bag into each cup. Out of the fridge, she grabbed some cold cuts and cheese and made three sandwiches. The teakettle whistled softy and she extinguished the flame. After pouring hot water into each cup, she added great helpings of sugar and stirred methodically
Merydith Santaneen took the tray and headed toward the front door. “Will you get the door for me?” she asked, but eased the door open with her foot. “Thank you,” she replied.
She walked around the side of the house to the garden entrance. The gate lay destroyed, crumbled to pieces all around her. “Will you open the gate for me?” she asked, then stepped over the pieces of wood and chain. “Thank you,” she replied once more.
The garden looked as it always did, lush and magnificent. The gazebo waited for her in somber silence and she made her way to it without hesitation. She sat down and gingerly took a bite out of her sandwich, washing it down with a sip of her tea. She looked around the gorgeous garden and smiled.
“What a beautiful day,” she said.
“
Merydith
?”
A child’s voice called to her. She immediately jerked her head up as giggling drifted in the air. The childlike laughter filled her senses as her eyes grew sad and her memories faded. A tear formed in her eye, but she shook it off and brushed her hair out of her face. A wide smile drew across her lips, the widest she could muster.
“Now, Aaron,” she called. “Don’t wander too far off. Tobey and I don’t want you to get lost in the garden. It’s much too big a place.”
A child’s voice cooed back to her, and in the breeze that stirred she heard: “Come on Merydith…let’s play in the garden.”
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Bibliography
If God Doesn’t Show
–apocalyptic, Cthulhu mythos novel co-written with R. Thomas Riley. Published by Permuted Press.
Frozen Stiff: A Zombie Novella.
The end has come. The dead walk and the living are on the brink of extinction. Brad and Travis, part of a military search and rescue operation, are re-routed to a secret base in the Canadian Arctic where evil colder than the frozen waste awaits.
Creatures and Crypts
–20 short stories, over 70,000 words of fiction. Come dance with the dead in the pale moonlight. The author’s best-selling collection.
Feminine Wiles
–These girls will set your nightmares on fire. They’re beautiful, seductive, fearless, and deadly. Will you resist when you hear their call? 16 tales of wicked women.
Terror in Small Doses
–6 flash tales of horror and the supernatural. Makes a great sampler of the author’s work. Lowest priced book.
Shadow Tales
–The author’s first collection now in its second edition. 15 tales of terror with an all new wrap around story and author’s notes on the stories. Published by Double Dragon Publishing.
A Beckoning of Shadows
–The sequel to Shadow Tales. More horror with 16 stories of varying themes. Published by Naked Snake Press.
Angels, Ashes and Alchemy
–A novella collection of shorts featuring Heaven and Hell. Published by Double Dragon Publishing.
Space Stations and Graveyards
–Co-written with Eric S. Brown and Jason Brannon, a mega-sized collection of sci-fi horror, the supernatural and of course zombies! Published by Double Dragon Publishing.
Author Biography
John Grover is a fiction author residing in Massachusetts. He completed a creative writing course at Boston’s Fisher College and is a member of the New England Horror Writers Association.
Some of his more recent credits include stories in Best New Werewolf Tales Vol 1 by Books of the Dead Press, The Epitaphs Anthology by The New England Horror Writers, The Northern Haunts Anthology by Shroud Publishing, and The Zombology Series by Library of the Living Dead Press.
He is the author the new novella Frozen Stiff and of several collections, including the recently released Creatures and Crypts for Amazon Kindle as well as various chapbooks, anthologies, and more. Please visit his website
www.shadowtales.com
or his facebook page (
https://www.facebook.com/johngroverdarkfictionauthor
) for more information.
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