The Uninvited Read online

  The Uninvited

  Vol I

  By Mike Evans

  Dedicated to my wife and children, who are always ready to put up with one of my crazy ideas. Always supportive of my writing. I love you all. Also to my fans and readers this has been an amazing year!

  ****

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  Editing Kyra Dune

  Special thanks to Christy Thornbrugh for reading it raw, and the proofreading done by Karen Dziegiel!

  Cover by Lisa VasquezStock Images: Shutterstock and Marcus J. Ranum

  © 2016 Mike Evans, All Rights Reserved

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  Chapter 1

  Summer of 1970

  Mary walked through the house checking the different rooms. She couldn’t find her son anywhere and had searched every inch of the house. Mary saw her husband Paul and said, “Hey, honey, have you seen your son?”

  “My son? What did he do this time?”

  “I just haven’t seen him in a while and I don’t like him having too much free time. You know as good as I do how much trouble he can get into.”

  Paul pushed up from his chair, setting down his daily paper. “Fine, we'll go see what he is up to then. Will that make you happy?”

  “A million dollars would make me happy, Paul. Then we’d have enough to be able to figure out what is wrong with him.”

  Paul opened the back door and they stopped short. “Oh my god, Paul. He….he’s done it again, but it looks worse this time.”

  “Just wait here honey, let me go talk to him. Hey, buddy, are you doing okay out here?”

  The boy looked up, smiling, a distant look in his eyes. He said, “Hi daddy. Look, look what I did dad, there was a stray cat. I sent him to heaven.”

  “Son you need to remember what we told you, that it isn’t your job to do that. You can’t do that son. You are going to be taken away from us if you can’t stop doing that. Do you think you can stop, do you need help?”

  “Why would I want to stop? I like it daddy.”

  Chapter 2

  Thursday May 2000

  Steven waved to the security guard as he drove out of the Ford plant and started his hour ride home. He’d been taking this route for over a decade and it seemed to get a little longer every day. Steven flipped through the radio stations ignoring the news; he’d seen plenty of bad times in his life, he did not need the assistance of others to tell him how bad the world was.

  Steven exited the interstate and hung a right heading out for his property. He loved living in the middle of nowhere. The peace and quiet was something they’d never had in the city and the first chance they’d had to purchase property in the boonies they took it. They ended up right next to a state park and had never regretted the decision.

  He drove slowly, seeing the reflective lights of a car on the shoulder of the road. When he saw the Chevy ribbon flashing off the car he laughed to himself. He knew damn well Fords would end up on the side of the road also but it was no different than a buddy's football team losing and yours prevailing.

  He slowed the truck down, leaning across the seat divider and rolling down the old crank window. He yelled, “Hey, buddy, you need a hand there? I’m pretty handy as long as it ain’t too complicated.”

  The man stood holding the tire iron, and when he turned around Steven yelled not being able to comprehend what he was seeing. Steven squinted trying to see the man better. The truck light from his cab was not enough to make the man out well. All that he could see was what looked like a white china doll mask that was missing the eyes and had a black cross running down the forehead.

  Steven mouthed ‘what in the fuck’. The man started to walk towards him and began raising the tire iron. Steven, knowing it’d do little good as old as the truck was, pushed the truck’s gas pedal down and did so until it was touching the floor. The truck raced off, skidding on the gravel road. Steven let off the gas hearing a heavy thud on the side of the truck knowing the man had just struck its side with the tire iron. He let the truck coast for a minute until he had it under control and when he pulled into the driveway of his home accelerated yet again until he came to a skidding stop in front of the home.

  Steven pushed out of the truck, falling down in the panic. His wife Christy was sitting in her recliner watching her husband fall to the ground only to bear crawl until he was standing and running. She was sewing up a pair of his work pants and stabbed herself with the needle when she became alarmed at her husband’s antics. She tried to make the most out of what they had so when it came time to pay for the propane for the winter they would have the money they needed to help keep their farm warm throughout the winter. “Ow, son of a bitch!” she yelled.

  Christy immediately stuck her finger in her mouth, sucking on the droplet of blood. Steven rushed through the door slamming it behind him and locking it. He yelled, “You got the back door shut and locked, baby?”

  She sucked on the blood and stared at him in a shock. “Well, fucking hello to you too, your highness. You made me stab myself god damn it. Do you know how much that hurts?”

  Steven pulled out his pocketknife. “I got my pocket knife on me if you need me to amputate it, sweetie.”

  Christy, still sucking frantically at her finger, held up a pair of scissors taking a break from her wound. “You need me to amputate something for you Steven; because I can assure you, honey, it would be my pleasure.”

  Steven quickly put away his knife. Christy said, “Is there a reason you are acting like a damn maniac? Did you need something Steven, or were you just trying to get my nerves all rattled?”

  “No, I got a reason believe it or not; there was some weirdo out on the highway to our road. He had his truck pulled over to the side of the road and-“

  “Damn it Steven, how many times do I gots to tell you that just because someone’s car breaks down on the side of the road it doesn’t mean that they are some-“

  “Christ, would you shut up! I saw a weirdo, yes I do mean weirdo, woman. He was crouched down by his tire and, me being the good Samaritan I am, asked if he needed to get any assistance. When he stood up he was holding a tire iron and had a white creepy ass mask on with a black cross down the middle of it. Now what do you have to say?”

  “So you rushed home and that is what leads us up to right now, huh?”

  Steven nodded his head. Still panting, he said, “So do you have the back door locked or not?”

  She shook her head no and said, “No, I wasn’t expecting to hear that believe it or not. But tell you what. Why don’t you go ahead and take care of that task yourself and from there you need to call down and see if you can get ahold of Sheriff Laughlin and see if he’ll come down and check out the man.”

  Steven nodded, saying more to himself that it was a good idea, and headed towards the back of the house, flicking on every light that he could on the way there, trying to make the house look as uninviting as possible.

  When he plucked the phone off the wall he listened for the dial tone but heard nothing. He instantly ran through every convers
ation he’d had with his friends over the year and the repeated speech of you all need to get yourselves a damn cell phone and it wouldn’t matter no such way if you was coming or going. The two of them had been adamant that once you gave into one of them there phones you never went back, and the modern technology age wasn’t something that they were hungry to try.

  Steven yelled, “Hey, baby, you had any problems with the phone today? You make any calls on it?”

  “No, you been at work all day, I don’t have shit to say to anyone but you and that’s just because you live here.”

  Steven brought the phone down ready to smash it but refrained and opened the kitchen’s rear door slowly. He peered around, shining a light on the side of the house where he knew that the phone line ran down it and saw it was separated. He shined the light around his property. He yelled, “Zero, Zero, get your ass in the house now!”

  The dog did not bark back and he yelled to Christy, “Baby, when’s the last time you seen the dog today?”

  “That ignorant shit went out when you left for work this morning and the last time I saw him he was running like a bat out of hell after a group of rabbits that he looked like he was going to give a run for their money to.”

  He went across the property one last time stopping near the barn when he saw what looked like a man in dark overalls disappearing behind it. He squinted in the dark, but it was too late and the figure was gone. Steven shut the door tight, locking the knob and the bolt. He said, “Go get my shotgun baby, hurry up now!”

  “Well, then I’m gonna need to borrow your damn truck then.”

  Steven collapsed against the wall. He remembered his friend Joey stopping by to tell him that he needed to borrow it so that he could get rid of some pests around the property. Steven knew he needed something else and began running through the house towards Christy. He said, “Okay so I don’t want you to freak out, but I’m pretty sure that asshole from the highway just walked back behind the barn.”

  Christy pushed up from the chair still sucking on her finger. When they looked out the kitchen window, they saw the man in the mask standing beneath the one light that hung from the garage. Steven opened the door and Christy stopped him from going out. He yelled, “This woman just saved your life dickhead. You’d better thank God himself that I’m not coming out there, or I’m gonna put the hurt on you damn it."

  The man didn’t falter. He didn’t move. He simply stood there swaying back and forth. Steven said, “You get out of here and you do it now damn it, do you hear me boy?”

  The man shook his head no and threw something above him shattering the light on the barn and sending himself into pitch black. Christy jumped a foot, grabbing on to Steven and yelling, “What the fuck is wrong with that guy?”

  Steven, never taking his eyes off the now empty spot, said, “A lot!”

  Steven closed the door, locking it tightly. He peered out of the blinds and watched as the uninvited man started to walk slowly towards them. Christy gripped his shoulder shaking him. “What are we gonna do baby, we can’t call the cops and he looks fucked up five ways to Sunday. What the hell is with the mask?”

  “I don’t have a damn clue, honey. Maybe it is a good thing that he doesn’t want us to know what he looks like and that he is planning on just being creepy and then leaving.”

  They watched the man for a moment watching him slide a hand behind his back. When it came back, it looked like he had an extension of his arm that went on forever. When the man turned to the side, they saw his arm extension was really a two sided axe head. This did little to make the two of the Thornbrugh’s feel any better. Steven looked around the kitchen, then grabbed a chef knife off the chopping block and handed it to Christy. He gave her a quick hug and said, “I want you to get upstairs, baby.”

  “Steven Dale Thornbrugh if you think for one god damned minute I’m going to just go upstairs and hide then you are-”

  Steven brushed the side of her face, spun her around, and gave her a slap on the ass that she would not soon forget. She said, “Jesus Christ save my ass would you?”

  Steven did the sign of the cross saying, “I am trying to save it baby. I am. I promise.”

  The back door started to rattle and Steven screamed, “Get the fuck off my property you piece of shit. I’m calling the cops right goddamn now!”

  Steven walked forward to move the curtain. The man in the mask was standing there staring directly into the window. Steven yelled, “I’m calling the police you piece of shit!”

  The man pointed to where the wire was hanging and shook his head slowly. He stopped wiggling the doorknob and backed away and out of view. Steven wished that he had his shotgun right now more than anything. He moved back from the window, knowing the man had called his bluff. He shut the kitchen door behind him and slid a chair in front of it hoping that it would be enough if the man came through the kitchen. He went to triple check the front door and that was when the lights went out.

  A voice shrieked from upstairs. Steven screamed, “Christy are you okay baby? Is he up there? Did he get you?”

  “No, he didn’t get me. Christ, you think I'd be screaming like some dumb bitch, or do you think I'd be saying, honey get your good for nothing ass up here now! I think that we know the answer to that.”

  Steven went to say something when the front door began to wiggle. He looked at it and whoever was on the outside started ramming a shoulder into it. Steven said, “You break that door down and I can promise you I’m gonna break your fucking head open you crazy son of a bitch!”

  The door stopped thudding and Steven backed away from it, putting a hand to his chest to feel his heart rate. He held out his hands, realizing he’d sent Christy upstairs with the knife and had picked up nothing he could use to make his threats come to life but his own bare shaking, hands. Steven was confident from the size of the stranger that he could literally rip him in half if he wanted to. Steven looked around wildly in the living room until the fireplace, which seemed to be calling him with its red embers glowing in the dark now showed off the tools he had hanging next to it. Steven gripped the poker on it and liked its weight; he selected it because of its sharpness and weight. He prayed that it would be the weapon to save their lives if the worse came to that.

  Christy yelled from the upstairs, “Baby, what’s going on down there, did he leave?”

  Steven didn’t answer. He walked towards the front bay window, trying to see out, but could see nothing. He didn’t dare touch the shades, thinking if the man had a gun he could simply shoot into the now equally dark house and blow his head off. Steven jumped when a thud hit the long picture window. He wasn’t stupid and was aware of just how little it would take to break through the old thing. He moved forward slowly and used the fire poker to separate the curtain. Steven leaned closer trying to see what it was. He pulled a Zippo from his pants and flicked the lighter open one handed and ran his thumb down the flint wheel. Each time he had a reason to light it, he always missed his smoking days.

  He held the light closer to the window and all that he could see was a deep red smudge making its way down that he feared was blood. He could not see the man anymore. He listened waiting for him to jump back out and scare the shit out of him again; unfortunately, he didn’t have to wait long. The masked man stepped out from his cover standing off to the side of the window and into plain view. He brought up one hand and put his index finger to what was dirtying the window. He drew a smiley face on it and disappeared back into the black of night.

  Steven realized he was pretty damn easy to see holding the damn lighter and flicked shut the top, killing the oxygen. He looked at the smiley face, still trying to think of what it was, when a shadow formed from a distance and got larger and larger. It was all black by the time that it was only inches from him. The man was running towards the window with something large in his hands. He heaved the object and it soared through the air, crashing hard into the window and breaking it open. Steven fell backwards, tripping over a
footstool hitting the floor hard and losing his fire poker as it skidded away under a chair. “Oh fuck me.”

  Steven hit his lighter again, this time not caring about the man but wanting to verify his worst thoughts. When he struck the lighter, he saw the mangled, bloody body of his bird hunting dog Zero, lying on the floor decapitated and gone. He crawled up next to him rubbing his head on his fur smelling the familiar smell that he complained of daily when the dog would crawl up on the couch.

  Steven screamed aloud, “You son of a bitch. I’m gonna fucking kill you, do you hear me god damn you! You don’t touch a man’s dog!”

  Christy came back from her hiding spot upstairs to look down into the living room and saw her husband, the broken window, and Zero lying in front of him and had a piece of her heart break instantly. She said, “Honey, you okay down there?”

  Steven, now on the verge of tears, had snot running from his nose and was doing his best not to have an emotional breakdown of epic proportions. He said, “Jesus woman do I fucking look okay? He got Zero. He got my fucking dog! Who goes after a fucking dog?” He stood, turning around to look up to her, and yelled, “You get back into your damn room and I want you to lock it and stick something heavy in front of it baby, do it now!”

  This time Christy screamed and it filled the old country house, pouring out of the broken window. She said, “Baby, behind you!”

  Steven turned around to see the stranger standing at the broken window again. This time he ducked his massive frame beneath the broken glass, gripping each side of the window frame with heavy-duty work gloves that would protect his hands and pulled himself up, casting a shadow that would have engulfed Steven had it not been for the flame. Steven backed up a few feet, diving for the chair where he’d heard his one and only weapon go sliding beneath.

  Christy stood atop the staircase, frozen and gripping the handrail, unable to move. She watched as Steven rushed for the chair. The man moved smoothly and not in a hurry seeming to be not scared in the least of the two. Steven felt a short moment of victory when he grasped the golden poker and pulled it out. He went to roll over and as he did a burst of pain exploded through his leg. Steven used the zippo to see what it was and could see the man holding firmly to a meat hook with the business end sticking through Steven’s calf. Steven cried out in pain and Christy muffled her screams, trying unsuccessfully to remain silent as she watched her own personal horror show taking place.