The Him Deep Down Read online

  A tremor through his back woke Andy slowly from the dream. He opened his eyes and tried to rub his pounding brow but couldn't bring his hands into action.

  "Y'all ate a horse tranquilizer. You been out for a spell. Mr. Reed—God bless his soul—right down the way, was a veterinarian. He held all manner of medicine in that empty house of his. 'Cept for the chickens, and the occasional sniffles Jesse may get, we got no use for it all. Well, that is until a group like yourselves comes around, tryin' to show us what's what."

  Andy arched up, seeing Sunsiray resting in an old rocker. A large ball of yarn sat at her feet, feeding a strand up under the arm of the chair and into her lap. Her eyes stayed focused on her labor through thick glasses. As Andy became more alert, he noticed his movement was limited by rough, frayed rope tied securely around his hands that kept him fastened to a splintered beam. He made an attempt to question Sunsiray, but a gag had been strapped tightly around his head, forcing an ongoing open smile. Saliva soaked the gag, but his tongue had long since dried, and each swallow brought with it a fear that he would suffocate as his throat stuck to itself.

  After some struggling, Andy managed a sitting position and studied his surroundings. It was a basement. He could tell by the squat windows near the top of the room and the dusty, web-filled rafters. Sunshine and vegetation were visible through the dirty glass. The air was thick and wet with the stink of earth, like he imagined a grave might be. Claustrophobic feelings poked at his psyche. He stretched his neck around painfully and noticed Steven and Tim. They sat awake on the floor, restrained like Andy. The look on their faces told Andy they'd seen horror that he hadn't.

  Nikki was missing.

  Andy stared at his brother. He'd never seen him frightened before, even when receiving a whooping from their father. Andy was surprised to find that he no longer held any real regard for his little brother, like one might have when watching a rambunctious child sleep; laying there so innocent and harmless, quiet and still, like a little angel. One would forget the trouble the rebellious little thing would cause throughout the day. But instead, Andy felt contempt and bitterness toward his brother, as though he blamed him for their misfortune. He'd made excuses for the little monster his entire life. He knew it really wasn't Steven's fault at all, but it helped Andy get through the moment, as they sat tied up in an open grave at the crafting hands of an old woman who knew more about caring for herself and her own then Andy would ever know.

  Sunsiray gave up on the knitting project and turned her attention to her guests. "I am truly sorry about the gags, but we can't have you hollerin' and carryin' on. Don't need the attention, from the dead or otherwise." She turned her head to the side and yelled toward a small room behind her. "Play time's about over in there, Jesse. You do what you gotta do, but you keep that thing in your pants. Momma didn't raise no pervert, and there's no tellin' what kinda cooties you may end up with from Ms. Tramp in there."

  A sound that resembled stalks of celery twisting apart filled the basement, followed by a ravenous chewing. Andy took note of Tim and Steven. They both held their eyes tightly shut. Tim's pants turned a darker blue as urine spread its way through the denim.

  "He likes to be in private when playing, but I still gotta keep my eye on him when he's with the females. A momma don't just let her boy fool around behind closed doors. The others, like you, I just let him go." She waved her hand away as she said it.

  A wet splat forced everyone's attention toward the center of the room. A dark mass of hair with a red streak now sat outside the small room, resting in a beam of sunshine, the underlying scalp glistened red. The sound of Nikki's body hitting the floor brought their attention back to the doorway. Shadows painted the dirt floor as a figure moved within the room.

  An unusually large silhouette blocked the doorway. It bent down and squeezed its way through sideways, just barely clearing the door's arch, then walked toward Sunsiray and stood silent next to her with its massive hand resting on the corner of her chair as she rocked.

  "This here is my boy, Jesse," Sunsiray said, smiling with pride in her eyes at the beast.

  Jesse took a step forward into the light. His limbs were covered with large lumps that, upon closer inspection, were revealed to be disproportioned muscles. His head was exaggerated in size like that of a prize-winning pumpkin, as though his neck should have a hard time holding it. His dark skin held a tough sheen like thick leather, and his jaundiced eyes swept anxiously over the hostages in the basement. He seemed amused by their animated reactions, as each man panicked behind their gags, struggling to make their pleading heard and gasping for a breath they would never find.

  Jesse's nose was flat and split down the middle, causing a constant nasally breathing while his mouth panted like that of a dog, black and littered with jagged teeth, too many to hide.

  "Now, I know what you thinkin'," Sunsiray said, patting her boy's rough hand. "But you're wrong. Jesse ain't one of them shamblers out there. We moved here years ago, before the plague even hit. Jesse, he was born this way. We created this hideaway when he started killing animals. We figured it was best for Jesse, and the world. But we don't live in that world no more, do we?"

  Jesse's eyes turned affectionately toward his mother as she spoke.

  "He is perfect protection against those cannibals out there," Sunsiray said proudly. "His skin is much too tough for them to bite through, and he is as strong as half a dozen normal men. My boy is out there every day killing off them that manage to get around the traps."

  Sunsiray stood and walked over to Andy. She stared down at him with sad but determined eyes. "You see, with Jesse, there ain't no deep down. What you see is what you get. I sympathize with you, mister. I know you know what it is like having to care for a monster that you are bound to by blood." She gave a quick glance to Steven.

  Andy looked at his brother who had flushed red from struggling to break free—a chore that would never be completed. He stared at Jesse and gave an expression of worry, silently begging him to let them be. But Jesse's wicked eyes swept between the captives, as if he were mentally playing eeny meeny miny moe among them—the mind of a distracted and reckless child with the body of an abomination.

  "Jesse, he got an appetite a lot like them creatures out there on the road," Sunsiray explained. "We had pigs, a horse too, but hell, he killed them. And it wasn't like I could take a switch to him. Luckily, I have managed to keep him away from the chickens. He got a violent hunger, and I let him get the wiggles out when and where he can."

  Sunsiray collected her yarn and regarded the prisoners one final time. "I wish I could let you go, but I can't afford thinking enemies. If you were better people, we could have stood together. But y'all are takers, not givers. But don't worry none. Jesus, He gonna forgive you. Just like He gonna forgive my son."

  Sunsiray regarded Jesse. "You have fun now, boy." She motioned grimly to Steven. "And kill that pimply-faced cracker first."

  Sunsiray ascended the stairs. Jesse watched her go, as if needing her absent before he began his gruesome work. As soon as the door closed, Jesse howled, shaking his giant head. The sound was hollow and cracked, booming with volume.

  He crossed the room, snatched up Steven and brought him to the center of the basement for all to witness. Steven struggled, resembling a toddler trying to ward off a spanking from a cross parent. Jesse palmed Steven's head, crooked it to the side and bit deeply into the young man's neck. Steven's eyes bulged and blood shot from his nose in a forced sneeze. His body convulsed. Jesse consumed half of Steven's face while the young man still numbly held to life.

  Jesse locked eyes with Andy as he feasted. Andy didn't mourn his brother. Not even a little bit. His brother was rotten inside. The only pain that cut him was letting his parents down. The only consolation was that he'd follow his brother soon enough. But he hoped his duty to watch out for the little bastard ended on this side of life.

  Andy had never prayed before, but he found himself begging God to be next. He did
n't want to see Tim go. It would hurt worse than seeing Steven devoured, but by the way Jesse was staring at him, there was no doubt that he was next. Jesse stripped the other half of Steven's face, scrunched it into a bloody ball, and shoved it into his mouth. His brother was either dead or so close to it that he surely wasn't suffering anymore.

  Steven now resembled the road kill the group typically ran across. There was a reason for every consumed face, a story behind every glazed eye. Most, Andy assumed, were undeserving. But no doubt there were others—like Steven—who, when leaving this world, made it shine a bit brighter.

  Andy's stomach surged violently upward, but he fought the sickness, realizing it would strangle the life from him. He closed his eyes, finding a respite in the darkness. But he could still hear the nauseating smacking of Jesse's lips. Thoughts raced around his head. He had called himself and his group survivors, but that wasn't what they had been. They were terrorists, and he could see that now. They were so consumed with living another day, that they had become fiends willing to do anything to see a sunrise they didn't deserve.

  Sunsiray was right. Her son made no bones about who or what he was. And that honesty was suddenly a beautiful thing to Andy. He remembered something else Sunsiray had said—about there still being good people out there somewhere. He hoped so, and he also hoped they never came here to Sunsiray's home. He knew how easy it was to excuse a monster when its veins shared your blood.

  Andy opened his eyes and looked to Jesse keenly. The beast was still staring at him while gnawing on Steven. The monster winked, either purposely or because the mess had caught in his eye. And it oddly felt to Andy that Jesse was somehow acknowledging family—a true brother.

  A shiver punched his back and Andy suddenly felt very ugly. Deep down.

  About the Authors

  Terry M. West is an American horror author. His best known works: What Price Gory, Car Nex, Dreg and his Night Things series. He is also the managing editor of the Halloween/horror website, Halloween Forevermore. He was a finalist for 2 International Horror Guild Awards and he was featured on the TV Guide Sci-Fi hot list for his YA graphic novel series, Confessions of a Teenage Vampire. Terry was born in Texas, lived in New York for two decades and he currently hangs his hat in California. www.terrymwest.com.

  Join his mailing list to keep up to date!

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  Chad lives in Battle Creek, MI. with his wife and children where he works as a medical language specialist. For over two decades, he has been a contributor to several different outlets in the independent music and film scene including articles, reviews, and artwork, as well as his own—now defunct—publication, Cornflake Overdose. Chad loves music, rain, sarcasm, dry humor, and cheese. He has a strong disdain for dishonesty and hard-boiled eggs. He has written for Famous Monsters of Filmland, Rue Morgue and Scream magazine. He is a regular contributor to Horror Novel Reviews, Halloween Forevermore and Heavy Planet. You can find his fictional work in Shadows & Light #3, #4, #5 A Merry Scary Christmas, and his Double Feature Collection series, including books I, II, & III: Two Before Dawn, Little Ones of Wood & Hair, and Death Dealers: Aid from the Elderly. Chad's 18-story horror anthology Night as a Catalyst was released in spring 2015. And late 2015 several more releases will be added to Lutzke's body of work, including Car Nex: From Hell they Came, and stories in both Straight to Video: The Sequel and Straight to Video: Conquest of the Planet of the Tapes. Chad can be found lurking the internet at the following addresses:

  His online home: www.chadlutzke.weebly.com

  Chad's Facebook Page

  Amazon Author page

  Horror Novel Reviews: www.horrornovelreviews.com

  Chad's Twitter

  All of the Flesh Served Available May 5th! Pre-order here!

  “Those who can make you believe absurdities, can make you commit atrocities.”

  ― Voltaire

  Any record of the 45th that does not recognize him as a prophet is propaganda and a lie. False history. The truth is with the 45th. His word is absolute for it is God's word…

  Hundreds of years after the great cataclysm, the Ministry of the 45th survive in a network of scientific bunkers. The last bastion of the old holy order, the 45th are bent on rebuilding the scorched earth and eliminating God's enemies. The Ministry wages a war against the mutant topsiders that occupy the dead states of the Soviet Union of America. Defending the 45th are the Red Guard, genetically engineered soldiers who are programmed to obey through their lifebrand. Dr. Morgan is a serviceman for Unit 468 of the Red Guard. His lifebrand being medicine, Dr. Morgan is the longest surviving field medic to serve. But Dr. Morgan is a deeply conflicted man with violent fantasies that contradict his pledge to preserve life. After escaping an abduction by the topsiders, Dr. Morgan's faith is cracked. During a furlough in the high Chancellor's bunker, Dr. Morgan is hailed a hero and taken off the front lines. But he soon realizes that someone has altered his lifebrand and lifted the veil that concealed the greatest deception ever perpetrated. Dr. Morgan has just become the most dangerous man in the wastelands. And when he discovers who the real enemy is, the revelation unleashes a fury strong enough to destroy what is left of the earth.

  Join the All of the Flesh Served Thunderclap!

  HONGER Coming soon from Morbidbooks!

  Hunger knows no friend but its feeder…

  Tarrytown, NY

  Winter 1679

  Willem Tenner is a God-fearing Dutch wheat farmer. After he and his family take in a half-dead old man that has come to their doorstep, a violent and gory nightmare that will last for an eternity begins. Basilius De Vries is an undying creature. He consumes Willem's family and curses the wheat farmer with the bite that never heals. De onheilige honger. The eternal hunger.

  Piermont, NY

  Winter 1997

  Willem Tenner works at a video store and has few friends. He has lived many lives since 1679. He doesn't know what he is. He doesn't even know the name for it. When the hunger comes, he picks victims who have already given their lives away: Junkies, hookers, criminals. He will soon have to abandon this life and start again before people notice that he doesn't age. Willem had thought himself the only monster on this endless, ravenous trek through time. But he was wrong.

  An enemy has come for him. And the monster plans on tearing Willem's life, body, and soul apart.

  WARNING: This story contains scenes of graphic gore and violence.

  Night Things: The Monster Collection

  "As someone who grew up on Universal's monsters, I was blown away by Terry West's modern interpretation of not only Dracula and Frankenstein, but the Mummy, zombies, werewolves and more! Every page crackles with sarcastic wit, horror and action." -Hunter Shea, The Jersey Devil

  "Think 'True Blood' in an urban setting, add a dash of 'The Sopranos' and blend in a big-budget action blockbuster finale, and you have something approximating Night Things."-Tracie McBride, Ghosts Can Bleed

  "A wild ride through some wickedly dark places."-Bram Stoker Award® winner Lucy Taylor

  Imagine a world just like yours with one startling difference: every creature of legend has stepped forward from the shadow and they now exist shoulder to shoulder with humankind! New York City has become a macabre melting pot. Vampires, werewolves, zombies and ghouls are now the new immigrants and they are chasing the American dream. The Night Things have become part of the system. But many humans feel the creatures are dangerous ticking time bombs.

  Night Things: The Monster Collection presents the first three Night Things/Magic Now books in one volume:

  Dracula versus Frankenstein

  Undead and Kicking:

  Monsters and the Magic Now

  Experience Terry M. West's entertaining blend of classic horror and dark fantasy and see your favorite monsters in a remarkable new light.

  Buy it now!

  A neglected 12-year-old boy does nothing to re
port the death of his mother in order to compete in a spelling bee. A tragic coming-of-age tale of horror and drama in the setting of a hot New Orleans summer.

  Order Of Foster Homes and Flies here!

  "Original, touching coming-of-age."

  ~Jack Ketchum, author of THE GIRL NEXT DOOR

  "With "Of Foster Homes and Flies" Lutzke is firing on all cylinders. It's a lean mean emotional machine. Coming-of-age presented in a fresh direction. Bearing tremendous emotional weight and heart. It made me cry. "

  -John Boden, author of JEDI SUMMER and DOMINOES

  “Disturbing, often gruesome, yet poignant at the same time, Chad Lutzke’s OF FOSTER HOMES AND FLIES is one of the best dark coming-of-age tales I’ve read in years. You’ll laugh (sometimes when you know you shouldn’t), you’ll cry, you’ll find yourself wondering how soon you can read more of this guy’s work. Highly recommended!”