Supper: The Horror Short Story You've Been Craving (4 page)

“Luckily, I didn’t forget
my
bullets,” she said with
a smirk.

In such a small space, the gunshot sounded like a ballistic
missile had been launched.

* * *

“No!” Stacey screamed again, knowing it was futile, as blood
trickled down from the bullet wound in Leo’s forehead.

His expression wasn’t pained. It was simply surprised. Then
Leo tipped over like a tree being felled, landing on the floor face-first.

Tamra turned the gun on her, but Stacey dove behind Ma,
figuring it would give her plenty of cover. And no, she did not feel at all
guilty for judging the fat chick now.

A shot rang out, but Stacey had no way of knowing whether it
hit Jonathan or not.

Ma gurgled and groaned as she tried to rise.

Not so fast, bitch.

From behind, Stacey shoved Ma’s face down into her bowl of
soup. The woman struggled, thrashing her face, but Stacey forced her down.

Was this a fair fight? Hell, no, and Stacey kind of liked it
that way.

Stealing a glance to the side, she found Jonathan dancing
out of the way of Bitsy’s cleaver as Tamra tried to get a bead on him. Cliver
was nowhere to be found. Reaching behind her, Stacey fished for whatever was on
the stove. She came up with a ladle.

“Jonathan!” she yelled as she tossed it to him. Yes, it was
a ladle, but it was better than nothing.

Stacey was going to get him something else, but Ma put her
hands against the table and heaved. Stacey was lifted off the floor and slammed
against the oven handle. Her back screamed nearly as loudly as she did. Shoving
aside the pain, Stacey grabbed the soup pot and swung it as hard as she could,
nailing Ma in the temple.

The woman’s one good eye rolled back in her head as her lips
trembled, drool sliding out like a sick, thick waterfall. Ma’s neck twisted to
the side as her arms curled up to her chest. Then she made a sound like a
wounded sea otter pup.

Well, too fucking bad. Stacey wasn’t going to be fouled
again. She raised that damn soup pot over her head, smashing it down on the
crown of Ma’s skull as soup sloshed over the edge. You could hear the bone
crack as all the twitching stopped and Ma’s quadruple chins lolled against her
chest.

“Behind you!” Jonathan yelled as he caught Bitsy’s jaw with
his ladle, wrestling away the cleaver.

Stacey had no time to do anything other than drop to the
floor as a shotgun blast rang out. She felt the pellets fly by, some slicing
through her hair as she fell. A startled scream came from across the room.
Stacey looked over to find Bitsy staring at her shirt as blood spread outward
from the multiple pellet holes.

This is why you did not shoot fucking shotguns in the house.
But Stacey’s glee was short lived as Jonathan also looked down. His shirt too
looked like a perverse, bloody tie-dyed print. The two slumped into one
another, clutching each other as they slowly sagged to the floor.

* * *

Cliver stared in disbelief as Bitsy gasped one last time.
Her eyes glazed over as she stared blankly at the ceiling. Ruf wailed again,
but Cliver wasn’t sure if it was for their fallen sister, or his own wounds.

Tamra turned her gun on Cliver. “You stupid son of a bitch!
To think that I almost
married
you.”

“No,” Cliver said as he brought his own gun back up. “Tamra,
it was an accident.”

“Which is what Ma always said about you,” Tamra retorted.

Bitsy was dead, but that didn’t mean Tamra had to get mean.

But she went on. “You know why Ma wanted me to cur out? Find
a new man to marry?”

“Stop, Tamra,” he begged.

“Because she knew you were weak and nearly as stupid as Ruf,
but at least Ruf could lift her.”

Anger surged through Cliver. To compare him to Ruf? No
matter how much he wanted to rut with his sister, she’d gone too far.

“Maybe you told Ma you had to go out into the world to stop
these folks, but I know you, Tamra,” Cliver hissed. “You always were an
outsider.”

Fury sparked in her eyes as her finger tightened on the
trigger.

Well, so did his. “At this range I can’t miss, Tamra. But
you?”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

Cliver had been so worried about his sister that he’d missed
Ruf approaching from the side. His brother came at him with his arms open wide.
Cliver tried to get a shot off, but his gun was knocked out of his hand as Ruf
gripped him in a bear hug. A breath-snatching, heart-stopping bear hug.

“Bad, Cliver, bad.”

* * *

Stacey watched as Cliver’s eyes bulged from their sockets
and the veins on his forehead threatened to burst. Then a shotgun blast sounded
as the back of Ruf’s head blew off, spraying the ceiling in gray matter.

“No!” Tamra screamed, raising her gun. But as Ruf’s body
slid down, Cliver was in no better shape. His face was a mass of pellet tracks,
red and angry. And his chin was simply gone. He too landed on the floor in a
thud.

Had Cliver accidentally killed himself, or did he just want
them both to go down?

Did it really matter? Stacey was left with the only sister
still standing. Unfortunately, the bitch had a gun.

And what did Stacey have? Nothing except for the table
standing over her that provided, at best, meager protection. Give Tamra a
moment to regroup, and even that would be gone.

Just the table…

Reacting on instinct, Stacey put her hands up, lifted the
table, and then charged toward Tamra. Dishes and glasses slid off, shattering
on the floor, but Stacey didn’t stop. Bullets shattered the wood, sending
splinters into her face, but still Stacey didn’t stop. Not until she ran full
tilt into Tamra.

Only after Stacey slammed Tamra against the wall did she
look over the top of the table. Tamra struggled to get her gun hand unpinned,
but then stopped and grinned at Stacey.

“Your sister tasted like rosemary and honey.”

Oh no! She
didn’t
just say that!…

Stacey smashed the wood even harder against Tamra, but her
damn big boobs acted as a buffer—and even gave the bitch enough wiggle room to
loosen her hand. The barrel of the gun slowly turned in Stacey’s direction.

Maybe she couldn’t push
in
any harder, but up? Up she
could do. Stacey shoved the table upward, knocking the gun from Tamra’s hand.
They both dove to get it as it clattered against the linoleum floor. Stacey
realized that she would never get to it in time, so instead, she grabbed Tamra
by the hair because it seemed like the bitch liked that.

Tamra must have realized that the gun was too far as well,
as she turned to Stacey and put both hands around her neck, squeezing. Stacey’s
grabbed hold of Tamra’s wrists but the bitch had her mother’s grip. Instead
Stacey dug her fingers into Tamra’s cheek. She could feel the flesh under nails
as she marked Tamra. Stacey might die today, but this bitch was gonna have to
walk around with gouges in her face. Try tempting coeds into her lair, then.

Stacey struggled to breathe as her vision reduced to a
pinpoint. She might not be able to cry out, but her brain screamed for oxygen.

Then a shot ricocheted off the floor and into the wall.
Stacey gasped as Tamra’s fingers loosened. Stacey pushed away from the bitch.

“I don’t know who to shoot!” the charbroiled woman said, the
gun shaky in her leathery hand.

“The one with big boobs!” Stacey yelled, scrambling back.

The woman took aim and fired, winging Tamra in the shoulder.
Finally those pontoons worked in Stacey’s favor. But Tamra was already making
for the shotgun that lay next to Cliver. Stacey spotted a knife on the floor
and grabbed it, lashing out in one motion.

Tamra must have had as little body fat as she claimed, since
the knife easily sliced through the skin and through the belly wall.

Damn, these people took their cutlery seriously. Lucky for
Stacey.

Tamra’s mouth opened into a perfect “O” as intestines
slipped from the wound. She tried to keep them in, but it was like trying to
juggle greased sausages. The more Tamra tried to stuff them back in, the more
tumbled out.

Stacey backed away as Tamra tried to come at her, but the
psychopath slipped on her own intestines, stumbling first to her knees, then to
all fours. But still the bitch was coming for them.

Stacey grabbed the gun away from the woman and fired,
hitting Tamra in the other shoulder. She shot again. Hitting her in the chest.
Then again, in the neck.

Was this a fair fight? Fuck, no.

She fired and fired and fired until the gun clicked on
empty.

Tamra lay in a pool of her own blood and guts. Only then did
Stacey feel each and every injury she had sustained. The broken ribs, the
sprained wrist, the splinters to the face.

“Is… is anyone still alive?” the woman asked, her
blue-tinged eyes darting back and forth and a hand groping in front of her.

“Yeah,” Stacey said as sirens wailed in the distance.
Jonathan must have dialed out before he got shot. But whatever law enforcement
was coming their way was too little, too late in her book.

Carefully, she helped the woman to the floor, and then
flopped down herself.

“Are they all dead?” the woman asked.

Stacey scanned the room to find it littered with bodies.
Some friends, some enemies, but all dead.

“Yep. Ma and her brood are toast.”

The woman laid her head on Stacey shoulder, a shuddering
sigh escaping her nearly mummified form. They both took several deep breaths,
although honestly Stacey had to keep from gagging at the chick’s smell, but at
least they were alive.

Suddenly, the woman’s head jerked up from Stacey’s shoulder.

“But where’s Pa?”

* * *

If you thought
Supper
was wickedly gory,
with great twists and turns, just wait for
Fresh Meat
! The story
revolves around a dungeon full of serial killers forced to play a sickening
game of battle royal. Worse, they are thrown “fresh meat” in the form of a
beautiful young woman.

Can she survive this gauntlet of gore?

Can the detective searching for her find her in time?

Be watching for it on Amazon.com!

# # # #

Thank you so much for tasting Supper. I hope it made
you squirm while reading it as much as I did while writing it!

If you enjoyed Supper, please do me a big favor and go
back to Amazon and post a review. We indie authors live and die by our reviews!

Hungry for more gut-wrenching mysteries? Check out the
next section for my works!

If you enjoyed the twists and turns of
Dark Lullaby
,
you might want to try Harbinger’s first novel the #1 Bestselling (Police Procedurals
and Hard-Boiled Mysteries)…

In the words of
New York Times
best-selling
author,
James Rollins
(
Altar
of Eden
and
Bloodline
)…

“Wickedly macabre and blisteringly paced,
PLAIN JANE
marks the debut of a
thriller for the new millennium. Brash, funny, terrifying, and shocking, here
is a story best enjoyed with all the lights on. Don’t say I didn't warn you!”

More praise for
Plain
Jane: Brunettes Beware
.

"This book is so creepy. I made the mistake of
starting in one night before bed. Not only did the story line keep me turning
pages, it freaked me out to the point that I didn't want to turn off my
light."

The Book Goddess

Book Reviewer

"This one had me flipping pages until 2 in the
morning. I knew when I saw the quote from James Rollins (one of my favorites)
that I would get at least my money's worth out of the book, but I had NO idea
what laid in store for me."

Mimi

Novel Ideas

The purchase or sample
Plain Jane: Brunettes Beware
simply click
here.

* * *