Sleep was the only thing on his mind after a twelve hour shift stacking boxes of assorted goodies. James was a night shift employee for his local toy shop, Knockers. It was 3:00a.m. now, and the only living things were the homeless people and addicts that wandered the dark New Jersey streets at night. He reached into his jean pocket for his phone so he could call what was probably the only Uber driver out this late to bring him back to his stale apartment on the other side of town. 10 minutes for next ride, read his phone, brighter than the stars in the night sky. He waited patiently. The outside of his work smelled of old gym socks and wasted lives. Time passed, and before he knew it, an older greyish car appeared down the street, slowly making its way towards him. Upon investigating his app, he noticed that it was in fact the lady it described. When the car rolled onto the side of the street, James swung open the back door, taking care not to hit the curb as the car was low to the ground. His driver was older, with reddish blonde hair, and her seat was rather straight. Wondering how anyone could drive comfortably that way, James said the proper hellos and slouched back. It was a 7 minute drive home at this time of night and the lady had good taste in music.
Approaching the first red light, he felt a small kick in the back of his seat. Jolting up he asked himself what the fuck that was. “It’s probably nothing..” he muttered under his breath, low enough that the driver didn’t hear. Then it happened again, this time harder, more angrily. “Do you have something in your trunk? I think it’s flying into the back of my seat,” he asked the lady. She glanced up into the rear view mirror and told him that there was nothing back there, he must be imagining things. It was late, it was really fucking late. He was probably just dozing thanks to the lack of sleep, and the car was an older model. If he felt it again, he could pull the middle cushion out and look in the trunk himself. He slid himself over to the left when he heard a faint sound, almost like a whimper.
Fuck, man, what if there’s some animal in there? he thought, pulling at the cushion. It was stuck. He kept pulling. The driver had noticed and was driving cautiously. He pulled again, and it gave a little. If he kept pulling, it would eventually open up. They were stopped at a red light when he managed to pull it open more than halfway before hearing a human voice. It sent a shrill, weak “Help me...” before the driver sped past the red light and pulled over.
“Where the fuck am I?” James said, but the driver laughed and got out of the car. James’s girlfriend was going to be fucking pissed if he wasn’t home on time again tonight. He had taken so much overtime lately, and it was really straining their relationship. The driver gripped the back door of the car and pulled James out. Before he knew it, there was a cold hand on the back of his neck pulling him towards the trunk. Click. The trunk flew open. It was darker inside than the alley they were parked in, and he couldn’t see a damn thing. He tried to grab whatever was crying out to him in the car before his hand touched a damp spot on the carpet inside the trunk. He slid his fingers farther in before realizing that the trunk was more than damp--it was fucking full of liquid. He turned around as he felt the driver’s hand leave his neck. The driver was gone. She vanished into the night like some sort of fucking speed demon. He wiped his hand on his pants and looked at the mysterious fluids. It was a weird shade of orange. Grabbing his phone, out of his pocket he flashed it into the puddle and he turned cold. He was fucking terrified.
There was a young girl of about four. Her throat had been cut side to side. He smelled urine and saw that she had bled everywhere. He wanted to wonder what the fuck was going on ,but he was under so much shock that he had almost lost all sense of feeling. What was he going to do? His DNA was now all over the carpet. They could trace that back to him. Even if he was to tell the truth to police, he could still be charged with being an accessory to the murder of a fucking kid. He took the kid’s pale, limp corpse and flung it over his left shoulder before darting towards the bridge he had passed during the ride. He wanted to dispose of the body fast. He watched his sides, fronts and backs to make sure there wasn’t some fucking weirdo out to see him carrying the dead child. Approaching the river, he stopped and dropped the body, no longer silent. He started to cry. Why him? What had happened that he deserved this?
Then it hit him. Two years ago on this night, he and his girlfriend Danielle were driving home from a late party with some friends from high school. They were drunk, but he had still gotten behind the wheel, swearing on everything that he loved that he was able to drive fine. They left the party. On the ride home, they had hit something and took off without even checking to see what it was, never looking back, but they would never forget. The next morning, when James got up for work, he noticed something on the back right tire of his car. Inside the ridges there was a small patch of human hair. They had just shrugged it off.
Staring across the lake, he noticed two white lights, almost phosphorescent, resembling eyeballs. Someone had seen him. He shouted with all the might he had left in his sleep-deprived body before it happened. Whatever the fuck that thing was, it charged across the water at him and ripped his intestines clean out of his stomach. He dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes. It wasn’t human. Gasping for breath, James made eye contact with the thing. It shrieked louder than anything he had ever heard in his life before it plunged its hands up through his rib cage and pulled out his heart, leaving him sprawled dead with a dead child next to him in the sand.
- Dakota G.
I had always heard mixed things about dating apps. I had friends who had found amazing relationships from them and some who only found idiots and one night stands. Tonight my dumbass decided I was pretty lonely and needed to find a girl to bring around the family so they didn’t believe I was a total loner. I knew one thing from the minute I made my account for Tinder, I was an “alternative” male from my taste in clothing and music to the way I looked in general, all these preppy AAA college girls in sports bras drinking margaritas with frat boys don’t want me. I steered away from most of the “Sorority” styled girls, but some were too good looking to resist right? It was damn hard to find a good alternative girl on here as well, like probably a 1/1000 chance.
After I made my account, I added a few pictures, some of me selfing but none with snapchat filters. Last thing I want to do is show a snapchat filter in my tinder pictures. I added some of me with friends at local gigs and hangout sessions from the previous months too, that way I don’t look like a complete nobody. I wound up making a bio, which is hard, I’m not good at describing myself. “Video Design, 22, Tattoos, Heavy Music,” that seemed to sum it up.
I started swiping through, seeing your average jane does more than normal, I swiped right on a few really attractive girls, some my age and some a year younger or a year older. Nothing below that and nothing above, I was insanely picky. Some time passed and I got myself off my couch to grab a beer and make some food, I was starving to say the least. I put my phone down on my coffee table while I walked over and reheated some pizza that I ordered last night. Once the microwave finished I was walked back over and turned on the TV before checking my phone and there it was.
You Have A New Connection! - Tinder.
The first connection, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to message back that quick, I’d look desperate right? I opened the app to see who it was at least, it was a girl named Elizabeth, pretty common name. First impression was she big on animals, preferably dogs, that made me happy as I love dogs. Swiping through I saw a few pictures of her and her friends at some concerts at the major venues and one beach photo. “Computer Repair, 23, Dog Lover. I don’t message first” read her bio. Me having to message first was rattling my anxiety, but I’d do it. Maybe after this episode of Archer to be safe. That’s exactly what I did, Elizabeth replied and we carried out the most wonderful conversations for a few days until the inevitable question arrived.
“When do you wanna meet up? Maybe grab a late dinner?”
We were both really busy with our work, her more than me because she had to go to an actual office but that was besides the point. I agreed, we were going to meet up at the local Lynn’s on that friday. Lynn’s was a small italian hole in the wall with cheap greasy chicken parm, who could resist. It was wednesday when we made the plans, so we kept chatting, growing more and more fond of one another until the day arose.
Before I knew it I was outside the restaurant, sweating profusely ruining my attempt at keeping my cool. I walked in and got a table, Elizabeth texted and said she was running a few minutes late due to traffic. I got us a booth, I sat at one end and ordered a hard cider, it was a date night and I deserved this. I got a text saying she was parking and I was almost shaking between the amount of excitement and how nervous I was. I saw a woman walk out of her car, it was clear it was Elizabeth. She was just as beautiful as I had imagined from her pictures, she was in normal casual clothes as was I. When she walked in I waved her over and we ordered our food, she got exactly what I was getting, the chicken parm, of course. The blatant amount of similarity between the two of us really made me think I hit the jackpot, we ate our food and conversed and I was sure everything was going really well. I was right, she wanted to come over after dinner for a nightcap. I was beyond down, she was digging me, or so I thought.
We went back to my house, she followed me in her car and we went up together. I had to piss like a racing horse when we got back so I told her to chill out on the couch until I got back. When I got out she had stripped down to the burlesque style lingerie and was standing in the doorway of my bedroom with her left index finger grazing the center of her bottom lip. I was being seduced and it was working. I followed her in and we got down to the foreplay, but this is when things got extremely weird. We were making out and I could feel the sharpness of her teeth when we kissed, not her incisor teeth, every single one. They definitely were not like this when we were at the restaurant and that was a known fact. Before I knew it she started to kiss me neck, but she bit me, the pain was excruciating. I could feel the blood trickle down the left side of my neck into my shirt, it stung, the bite stung a lot. I threw her off of me and yelled “What the fuck” as my first instinct. The bite was pulsating with a dark yellow tint, I looked over and grabbed a tissue from my nightstand to attempt to place over it. While doing that she got off the ground, this time her nails were growing rapidly, they looked fucking sharp. What the fuck was going on? Was I living some sort of twisted nightmare. I walked slowly back into my closet, I had kept a .40 handgun in a safe in there. When I turned 21 I took my permit test to ensure my safety, living alone and all. I scanned my thumb and grabbed the gun, before I could cock the slide back she was sprinting full force from the other side of the room at me, I picked it up and I shot her.
I shot her 12 times in the head.
I had no clue what was happening so I went back in the safe and grabbed my second magazine. At this point, I had no clue if she was even human so I wanted to be prepared. She didn’t get back up, but my neighbors had definitely heard the shots, I needed to figure out what had happened. I stood up and walked over her pale dying corpse, she had a massive hole the size of a snowball flowing with blood in her forehead, she was dead. I looked down and saw her nails and teeth had gone back to normal, my bite was healing insanely fast.
Nobody was bound to believe this story I was panicking harder than ever before. I heard a knock at the door, it was the police. I was going to jail and if I told the real story, maybe even an asylum.
I jolted off the couch, there was no way that was a dream. I looked up and saw pizza on the table nearly finished and Archer was still streaming from my Netflix account. I grabbed my phone to see the time and I saw it
You Have A New Connection - Tinder
- Dakota G.
FEAR: Short Horror Tales From The Team
FEAR is a new column from the ML team that brings new short fictional horror stories to our readers, enjoy at your own risk