Horror Book intro : Godfrey

Getting out of the car, Clive felt the sunlight across his face.  Small birds chirped in the distance.  A light wind rustled the trees. 

Forgetting for a moment that the ghost of a woman he loved like a mother was luring him back to a dreaded place for something terrible.  At this moment, it was just a nice drive in the country.

Stepping inside the market, aisles lined with open bins of organic fruit.  Jars of preservatives covered the back wall.  Fresh baked bread lured him to the back where he looked over the jams.

“We make those fresh.”  Clive turned to see a woman behind the counter.  Older with silver hair done up in a bun.  A big smile under kind eyes.

“Had no doubt.  Which one’s best?”

“All of them”, she laughed.  “My husband likes the wild blueberry.”

He picked up the jar.  No label, just the dark blue jam inside the thick glass.  “Blueberry it is!”

Walking up to the counter, Clive handed over the jar.  “How long have you been open here?”

“My husband Will and I opened, oh… has to be 30 years now.  Wanted to escape the craziness of the city.  Thought, what better than a small market off a quiet country road.”

“You get enough customers?”

“You’d be surprised.  Although it’s been quiet for a while now.  Straaaange… sure it’ll pick up.”

“Have no doubt.  I’m sure you’re popular around here…”  Clive looked at the woman’s name tag.  Small piece of wood with black letters burned into it.  L-I-L-Y.  “Your name is Lily?”

“Yes dear”

“Your husband is Will?”

“Yes, why do you ask?”

Clive thoughts ran fast.  “No reason.  How much I owe you?” 

The old woman slowly punched numbers into the register. 

The floor shook and Clive jumped, “What the heck!”  A bang from under his feet.  And a noise, for just a second.  A strained voice, quick, “Riiiiiiiiiiiiita”.  Then quiet.

The old woman was still smiling.  No longer warm, her lips pulled back, corners tightened at the ends pulled towards her ears.  Her eyes wide.  Too wide.  Clive stepped back.

“Don’t worry, that’s just my husband in the basement.”

Clive felt a pressure against his leg.  Looked down to see a small brown dog sniffing his leg.  Cute little wiener breed of some sort. 

It looked up at Clive, tongue sticking out, its panting face looked like a smile.  Clive smiled back, “Hello little guy”.

He reached down and stroked the dog’s back.  Smooth fur down its back.  Reached around to scratch its tummy, and something moved against Clive’s hand. 

The fur fell into a hole, movement as things vibrated against his fingers, warm and wet.  Pulled his hand back to see three maggots stuck to his finger.  The dog turned and walked from the room.  A trail of slithering maggots left along the floor.

“That’ll be $5 dear.  I cut the tax since you’re such a lovely customer.”

Clive shook his head.  “Ok, thanks for that.” 

He dug out his wallet and passed over the bill.  She reached as a light bulb from the small backroom behind the counter caught his eye.  Light spilled out as it got brighter.

“Something wrong with that light?”  He pointed back, but the woman didn’t break her stare.

She took the money.  Made a fist and punched hard as the register shot open.  “Stupid fucking thing needs to learn.”  Her face twisted down with a long frown to the chin.  The woman’s handsome face dragged towards her neck, stretching the ends of her mouth. 

The drawer shot open revealing empty trays, as a large black spider crawled out and over the woman’s fingers.  Slowly up her arm, disappearing under her sleeve.

Her eyes changed.  The light grey iris glowed deep purple.  He shook his head, blinked, and the smiling old woman returned.  She carefully closed the register and put the jam in a bag.

This isn’t right. 

She handed the bag to Clive.  He grabbed it while turning to leave.  His arm shot back.  Stumbling as the old woman held tight to the bag.  He pulled against her iron grip, fused like the hand of a statue. 

“Are you sure you want to leave dear?  Maybe you’d like to stay.”

“No, that’s…”

“But we want you.  There’s nothing for you in town.  You belong with us… in the basement.  My Will, your Will, it’s all the same.  It’s only hurts for a bit, then puuuurrre bliss.”

Her face changed.  Skin from her head and cheeks melted down like liquid onto her neck.  Sharp white cheekbones peeked out under widened eyes. 

Clive let go of the bag and ran down the aisle.  Not looking back as he plunged through the front door.  Outside his toe caught the top step of the porch, pitching him forward as the gravel met his face.

“Are you okay!?”  Opening his eyes to blinding sunlight.  A woman stood over him, her large dog licking his arm.  “That must have hurt.  You okay?”

Clive pulled himself up.  “I’m good.”

“Ya, really got to be careful.  The old building’s not safe.”

She stared behind him.  Clive turned to the market.  The wood building had changed, now barely standing, a ruin.  Doors and windows covered by dark, mold-covered wood planks. 

The roof collapsed at the front.  The right side of the porch fallen, pushing down the front steps on an angle.  Large red graffiti sprayed along the front… “Murder!”.  Black soot crawled up the walls above the windows. 

The woman said, “You sure you’re okay?” 

Clive realized how crazy this must look.  He brushed off his pants.  “Ya, I’m cool.  Just walked up to get some pictures.  Guess I got too close for my own good.  What is this place?”

She shook her head, “So tragic really.  I knew them too.  Nice old couple ran the market.  Rita and Ian.  Mystery really, but so many rumors.  Said Rita killed her husband.  And the dog!  Who kills a dog?” 

She looked at her dog sitting calmly, his protective eyes frozen on Clive.

“Not to get dark… heard it was like a horror movie.  Said she snuck up behind Ian.  Smashed his skull in with a hammer.  Little old lady somehow lifted her husband onto a meat hook in the basement…” 

Clive felt sick. 

She noticed, “Don’t worry.  Won’t go into detail.  Ian was, I’ll say a robust man.  Said his weight strained the basement ceiling, almost collapsed it.  And he hangs there for two days before bleeding to death.  Rita killed him, then the dog, and lit the place up.”

The woman pointed to the black stains. 

“CSI stuff.  Said she broke a lightbulb in the backroom.  Started the fire.  They found her standing behind the counter.  Ya, burned up but still standing!”  She shook her head, “Our local reporter likes gruesome details.  What can I say?  Gets boring out here.”

Clive had to leave.  He thanked the young lady and hurried to his car.  Jumped in, seeing the confused woman’s face as he drove off. 

She fell over as the dog broke away.  Hearing through the car window, “What’cha ya doing Clever?  There’s no dogs in there…”

Clive hit the gas, passing a small road sign with a white arrow pointing up.  It read, “Clanbrassil”.