Horror Stories from Denmark Box set Page 15

  "Mom, you're too CLOSE!" she yelled.

  Agnete didn't even get on her feet before she felt something grab her throat. She sputtered while being choked and tried to scream, to tell her daughter to run, but only spitting sounds left her mouth as she was slowly dragged backwards.

  15

  "IT'S GOT MOMMY! The snowman has got MOMMY!"

  Emma was screaming from the top of her lungs while the nice man in the black coat stepped forward.

  "SHOOT IT!" Emma screamed as she watched her mommy being dragged backwards. "SHOOT!"

  The man fired a shot that made such a noise Emma had to cover her ears. The man was blown backwards while the bullet went straight through the snowman's head and left a big hole in its forehead. But that didn't stop it. It still had its long branches wrapped around Emma's mother's throat, dragging her through the snow while choking her. Emma was desperate now. She knew that as soon as her mother touched the snow that the sculptures were made of, she was doomed, killed by the blackness like the policeman. Either that or the snow sculptures would eat her mother, nibble on her skin and crunch her bones. She had seen them do all of those things and she wasn't going to just stand and watch while they did it again. Not to her Mommy.

  Michael shot again and made another hole, this time in the snowwoman who looked very much like his friend, but didn't act at all like a friend should. Emma was so scared, her lips started shaking, while she was sulking, calling for her mother. Then she stepped out and grabbed a hold of her mother's waist, but she was too light to stop them from dragging her and now she was being pulled as well. Her mother gasped for air and sounded nothing like her mother was supposed to.

  "Mommy?" she cried. "Don't take my mommy! Please Mr. Snowman, please don't eat my mommy."

  Her mother was fighting trying to pull out from the branches' grip of her throat, but every time she touched them, they tightened further around her throat and Emma shrieked as she heard her mother sputter and gasp for air. Her head was all red now, like when she got really mad at Emma, like the time she had cut her own hair to look more like a tiger, that kind of red.

  "Emma?" The gentle voice of her father came up behind her and for a second she thought it was only wishful thinking, but turned her head anyway and saw him running up the hill.

  "Emma, let go of your mother!" he yelled.

  Emma didn't obey. She didn't want to let go of her. She wanted to hold her closer than ever, she wanted to hold on to her even if it meant she had to die along with her.

  "Emma, let go!"

  Emma sulked and whined but didn't let go. Her father came closer and closer until she saw what he was holding in his right hand, something that she suddenly realized might be able to save them all. She smiled and looked up at her mother.

  "Daddy's going to save you, Mommy," she whispered, then let go. Emma cried as she watched her mother be dragged away from her, and then threw herself in the snow crying, regretting having let go.

  Her dad sprang past her and stopped. He lifted the blowtorch in the air, and then lit it. The flames blew through the air with a whooshing sound. Emma got up on her knees and watched with relief as the snowman's face started to melt. At first it became all crooked, then all the buttons fell off, and then its arms let go of her mother. The long sneaky branches of the snowwoman were still holding on, until Emma's dad turned the blowtorch towards it and blew fire at it, causing its stomach to melt and the head to fall. He even set fire to the branches and cut them off, so they no longer held on to Emma's mother who fell into the snow, gasping for air. Emma ran to her while the dog started running towards Emma's dad, getting ready to jump him in an ambush, when Emma screamed like the Powerpuff Girl she was, and at that instant her dad turned and blew fire into the air melting the dog while it was still in the air. As the snow sculptures slowly melted Emma heard them scream, sounding like what Emma always thought witches would sound like when they died. The water left from their bodies ran across the snow looking much like the goo she often played with, Emma thought. Except it seemed to be smoking, fuming.

  "Careful not to touch it," her dad said and Emma stepped back to get further away from it.

  It looked like water, only thicker and it had a slight silver tone to it. Emma threw herself in her mother's arms, as they all watched the goo-like water run away and disappear into a sewer-grate.

  Emma held on to her mother feeling like she never wanted to let go again and soon she felt her dad pick them both up in his strong welder-arms and carry them back towards the house.

  Emma opened her eyes one last time and stared back at the hill and saw the man in the black coat throw the gun in the snow, then turn and run. Emma closed her eyes again and held her mother even tighter.

  16

  THEY WERE OUT playing in the snow. Peter and his dad hadn't seen each other in a month since the separation from Peter's mother. It wasn't that his dad didn't want to see him; Peter knew that, no it was his mother who had denied them the permission to see each other.

  "Yeah like I need your permission to see my own dad," Peter had wanted to say to her. But he never dared to talk to her like that. She was way too scary for that. She had the right to destroy his life if she wanted to. She had proven that on more than one occasion. She could deprive him of his right to watch TV, to play computer or even worse, his beloved Xbox and lastly she was the one who decided if he ever got to see his daddy again. Peter missed him terribly, now that Peter was the only man in the house. It hurt that he had left him with her like that. It hurt that he was no longer there to defend Peter or to do guy-stuff with him, like build things and fight just for fun in the yard.

  But now he was finally here. For the first time in a month and Peter was determined to enjoy every moment of it, take it all in. Even if his mother had told him that his father was a prick, a mean bastard and practically done all she could to make Peter think less of him, Peter thought of his dad as a hero. He idolized him. Peter didn't know what it meant to be cheating, all he knew was that he often himself cheated in card-games or when they played memory and his mother always let him do it. So what was the big deal? He thought when his mother told him how his father had been cheating on her. So what?

  Peter felt something wet hit his cheek and smiled. His dad was standing a few feet away laughing.

  "I'll get you back for that one, Daddy," Peter yelled and bent down to pick up a small handful of snow that he shaped into a ball, careful to keep pressing it from the sides in order to make it as hard as possible.

  Then he threw it at his dad, but he ducked and the snowball flew past him and hit a tree behind him.

  "Missed me, gotta kiss me," his dad yelled and stuck his tongue out.

  Peter growled, then picked up more snow between his gloves and molded another snowball. This time the snow felt much better. It was heavier and easier to shape. Peter stared at it between his gloved hands. It seemed almost like it was glowing, like silver in the sun. When he molded the ball he thought it felt almost like playing with goo.

  In the meantime his dad had made another snowball and now threw it at Peter. Luckily Peter ducked and returned the attack with a counterstrike, throwing the ball through the air. The ball whistled as it cut through the icy wind and yes! hit his dad right on the cheek, causing him to fall backwards in the snow. Peter laughed.

  "Gotcha!"

  He waited, expecting his dad to get up and strike back, but he didn't. Instead he started screaming in terror. Startled Peter ran towards him, thinking at first he was joking, but as he came closer realized that something was really wrong. His father's cheek had turned pitch-black and it was like the skin was cracking, while the blackness spread across his face. Peter was scared and backed up. As he did, he felt something behind him and turned to look directly into the face of a chubby little snowman.

  Much to his surprise all Peter could think about in those last terrifying seconds of his life was the nursery rhyme from his kindergarten class ending with the words:

  NIB
BLE, NIBBLE, CRUNCH!

  THE END

  HUMPTY, DUMPTY

  Willow Rose

  1

  "I'M NOT DOING IT," Ella said and crossed her arms in front of her chest.

  Her mother sighed and rubbed her head with her eyes closed. "You have to Ella," she said. "It's not up for discussion."

  Ella looked at her mother defiantly. She was biting her lip and felt her cheeks begin to redden.

  Her mother looked at her, and then slapped her across her face. "Stop that," she said. "It's going to happen whether you like it or not. You're doing as I tell you, end of discussion."

  Ella groaned. The old house sighed as the winds picked up outside. Ella's mother hurried to the window of the kitchen where they were standing and closed it. As she did, she saw black clouds gather in the sky above. The wind caused the house to shake. A vase fell from the top of a shelf and shattered all over the floor. Her mother sighed deeply.

  "I have to clean this up. Go to your room. You're doing as I told you and I will hear no more of it."

  Ella growled as she walked past her mother and stepped on pieces of the broken vase with her bare feet on her way out, crushing them further and making more of a mess.

  Her mother picked up the broom and ran after her, chasing her out the door. "Get out you ... you ... Humpty Dumpty!"

  That was what they called Ella. Humpty Dumpty. Everyone did, even her own parents. Why? Well first of all she was clumsy. Always tripping over her own two feet, or walking into corners of tables or hammering her feet into things. It all came down to her sight, really. Ella didn't see very well. She had been born with a defect in both her eyes forcing her to wear brick-thick glasses just to be able to see anything. But even while wearing them, she would constantly bump into things - and people. Sometimes things broke even when she didn't touch them, but simply because she was near. Light bulbs popped, shelves fell down, and windows suddenly blew open and smashed into walls.

  Second of all it wasn't just her clumsiness that earned her the nickname. It was also the way she looked that made everyone - even those nice kids in school who tried really hard not to - think of the character from the silly nursery rhyme. See Ella was fat. But not like other kids were fat. She was so round she had no neck at all, it was like her body was one big oval lump, looking just like an egg, making her so similar to Humpty Dumpty himself that it almost hurt. It didn't matter how nice the kids were, they couldn't help but giggle when she passed by in the hallway of the school, and some couldn't help but hum or even sing out loud:

  Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,

  Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.

  All the king's horses and all the king's men

  Couldn't put Humpty together again

  It's easy to imagine Humpty Dumpty, or Ella as her real name was, having a hard time accepting this as a part of her life and even if it quickly became a natural part of the other kids' daily lives - she suffered tremendously and dreaded every day she woke up in her bed.

  Ella wasn't alone in life. She had a family. She had a mother, a father, an older sister named Louise and then there was Jacob. Jacob was her baby brother who Ella loved more than anything in this world. He was the first thing on her mind when she opened her eyes and the last thing she thought about before going to sleep in the old house on Enoe just outside the town of Karrebaeksminde. They lived on an island, a place where only a dozen people lived all year around since most houses were summer cabins and hotels. The island was packed at summertime but desolate and empty in the winter. Ella preferred the winters when she could take Jacob in her arms and walk to the beach and watch the big angry ocean throw its waves up on the sand and leave beautiful seashells for her to pick up. Ella liked the darkness that fell on Denmark at wintertime; she liked the heavy grey clouds and strong icy winds that kept the tourists away. She liked that no people were around to stare at her or make strange facial expressions because of her hideousness.

  "You're so ugly people are afraid of you," her mother said with disgust, not wanting to look at her own daughter because she repulsed her so much, because she couldn't understand how such a strange creature could have come out of her graceful body.

  At first her parents had thought that something was very wrong with their daughter. She was a normal child at birth, but as soon as she turned a year her body had started to mutate. They did all they could to prevent it from happening. They restricted her diet till she was given nothing but vegetables, but still her body kept growing. On the doctor's orders they tried to give her more exercise. They ran with her at the beach, took long walks in the forest and they even bought her a trampoline so she could try and jump some of that extra fat off. But no matter how hard her parents tried, they couldn't stop the inevitable. Ella was getting fat. It didn't matter that both her parents were skinny, it didn't matter that her older sister was as gorgeous as any model seen in a magazine.

  In her room Ella looked out at the ocean from her window. The strong winds made the waves even angrier, she loved how they foamed and splashed onto the shore. The black clouds made the day even darker much to her enjoyment. It suited her mood. She clenched her fist hard and the nails left small white half-moons in her palm. Then she felt tears behind her eyes. Just the very thought of what her mother had told her was going to happen stirred her up inside and forced her to strongly restrain her anger.

  She jumped down from the window and walked to her baby brother's room next to hers. The old house moaned and sighed in the wind as she walked on the red carpet in the long hallway. A light bulb popped as she passed it. When she came closer she heard her brother’s gentle babbling and it immediately calmed her down. She opened the door and looked inside. Then she smiled. Jacob was sitting in his crib playing with a small dinosaur making noises with his mouth while gnawing on the pacifier. When he saw her he whined in joy, then stood up holding on the edge of the crib and started jumping with glee.

  "What are you doing, you silly goose?" Ella asked as she approached.

  Jacob reached up his arms signaling he wanted her to pick him up. "You want out of your jail, don't you?" she said and took him in her arms. Jacob hugged her tenderly with a small shriek. Then he pointed at the window. "You wanna have a look?" Ella asked. "There is a storm coming. I bet you want to look at that, huh?"

  She brought him to the window and while standing behind him and holding his hands she sat him down in the windowsill to let him look out. He put the palm of his hand on the glass.

  "Feels cold, right? It's because the wind is so cold outside."

  Jacob looked up at her and grinned. Then he pointed at Ella. She laughed and nodded. "Ella. Can you say Ella?"

  But Jacob hadn't started speaking yet. More than two years old and still not a word only babbling sounds. It annoyed their mother, but Ella enjoyed it. She wanted Jacob to stay the way he was. She enjoyed being the only one who understood everything he told her with his gestures and noises.

  "Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere. I'm not leaving you here alone with them," Ella said and kissed Jacob's small nose. "They don't even understand anything you say. I'm the only one who knows that when you touch your throat it means you're thirsty or when you point into the air it's because you've heard an airplane. Mom and Dad are way too busy to notice those little things. If they send me away you'll have to learn how to speak." Jacob looked at her, and then tilted his head. Ella laughed again, and then she became serious. "Just promise me one thing; never ever become like everybody else. Promise me that?"

  Jacob grinned and Ella took that as a yes. The wind had gotten a strong hold on the big birch tree outside the window. Its long, bare branches scraped against the house. The sky above the ocean looked pitch-black and threatening.

  Ella lifted Jacob up in her arms again. "Better get you back to bed," she said. "This storm looks like it could be a bad one."

  2

  THEY WERE MESSING around. None of them really believed in this shit, well maybe except for Peter. He was the on
e who had brought the Ouija board to their secret meeting place above the gym. Now all four of them were putting their fingers on the planchette and Peter was asking it a question:

  "Is there a spirit in the room?"

  The planchette didn't move. Michael giggled. Peter looked at Ivan and the rest of the group. "Come on guys, it only works if you're serious about it."

  Michael giggled again. Peter gave him a look.

  "Come one, man," Michael said. "It's hard not to laugh."

  Ivan stared at both of them and fought his own desire to giggle. But Peter would be furious and Ivan feared his anger more than anything. Peter had invited Ivan to be a part of the group, something Ivan had wanted for so long. To be accepted, to be a part of the secret order he had only heard rumors about. It was widely known among the students at Herlufsholm boarding school as the most exclusive group, one you had to be specially chosen to become a part of. Ivan had accepted Peter's invitation and gone through all the initiation rituals that cost him a trip to the hospital and several broken ribs, but that was well worth it now that he had the honor of becoming a full-blown member tonight.

  "Let's try again," Peter said and they all put their fingers on the planchette. Peter closed his eyes and focused. "Is there a spirit in the room?"

  They all stared at the board. Nothing happened. "We're not doing it right," Peter growled. "My brother used to use this and always received an answer."

  Mads was Peter's older brother, the one who had introduced the secret order to his baby brother and passed down the keys to the secret place, thereby making him the leader. He had taught him all he knew, Peter always said. He had even helped him make his first kill. Tonight it was Ivan's first time and Peter had promised to help him follow through, to take his virginity, as they called it.