Foreword
Hello! Here's another short story for you to chew over while I make preparations to release my first novel. In the spirit of Halloween, the following is a horror story that has some great violence and descriptions of gore. If any of that happens to be triggering for you, or simply not your thing, you won't break my heart too much by skipping over this one. This particular story is another one I've been mauling over for a bit of time now. The main story, that I'll get around to writing eventually, is heavily inspired by Stephen King and, more specifically, "Under the Dome". That should give you an idea of what you are in for; allow me to present:
The Games They Play
"It's not a good idea," the boy anxiously blurted. The girl finally broke her stare with the giant bird logo that sat atop of the building. She glared at the child, her annoyance something she couldn't hold back anymore.
"I'm going to hit you if you say that a fifth time," she hissed. The two kids had the appearance of brother and sister. This would not be an accurate impression, though the two did often refer to each other as siblings.
"C'mon! You know Mama isn't going to like this," the boy persisted. "You know she hates the games we play." The teen broke her hand free from the boy's grip, releasing a startled gasp from his lungs.
"Why are you always like this? Whenever I suggest something fun you always start whining!" the girl shouted at the boy. Her long hair swayed as she leaned her face in closer to the boy's. "This is what the big kids do for fun. It's time you grow up." She huffed and proceeded to walk away from the boy. The boy brought a hand to his face in fear. He watched as she made angry strides towards the sliding doors of the store. The child nervously looked around, making sure no one was watching them. With a deep inhale and after giving himself a hug, he ran after the older sibling, desperate to not be left behind.
The store was fully under siege, as was common for a Sunday afternoon. Church goers, older folks, and wives escaping their sports fanatic husbands all crowded into the large supermarket. Upon entering the air-conditioned building, one could either head left to the customer service desk and checkout lanes or right towards the produce section and the deli. The deli was certainly the most overcrowded location of the store, much to Kyle's suffering.
The young lad was fresh out of high school and landed his first job as a deli associate. The pay was awful, and the workload was overwhelming, but Kyle still trucked on so that he could have some play money. He still lived at home, so his survival was not dependent on his performance. The boy did have a strong sense of pride and, despite hating every second he was in this building, worked as hard as he could. He had set a machine they called the "stacker" to automatically cut through cheese and attempted to fetch deli products for the wave of folks that threatened to wash over the entire section. He was not alone in his endeavors, thankfully. He had three other co-workers battling against the horde just as hard as he was. All of them knew how to work with the other and there was a perfect synergy between the team members, excluding one woman.
Her name was Denise and none of the deli workers could stand her. The word Kyle's generation used to define such a woman was a "Karen". Even though all of them were struggling with the never-ending assault on their cold cuts, she was the only one compelled to complain. The moment one of her teammates paused to take a breather, she was on them. She would bark orders, despite not having any authority to do so, and criticize every mistake as though it cost someone their life. It was Kyle's turn to feel her apathetic wrath. The boy made the mistake of stepping into the back for half a moment to take a sip of coffee that had grown cold.
“What are you doing?” she asked, following the boy into the back room. Her arms were wide at her side, waiting for whatever explanation Kyle could give her. The young man, not prone to conflict, elected to ignore the irritated woman and took a long drink from his disposable cup. “Oh, this is bullshit!” she huffed before turning and storming back behind the counter to help some other elder that was just looking to buy lunch for the week.
Kyle closed his eyes, trying to let the frustration leave his mind. What a bitch, he thought. She has no right to yell me. I've been working for five hours straight. What I wouldn't give to... Kyle's brow furrowed and he opened his tightly shut eyes. Upon opening them he made eye contact with a teenage girl who a wicked smile on her face. The boy misinterpreted the wickedness as friendly and returned the gesture before heading back out onto the floor.
“Oh, the king is back from his coffee break,” Denise commented, operating the slicer that they specifically used for cheese. “Ready to work like a grown up now?”
“Only if you quick bitching,” Kyle returned. It was uncommon for him to swear, let alone at a woman. It was a value his father had instilled in him.
“Whatever, cry baby,” Denise shot back before continuing to cut the block of baby swiss. Kyle shook his head and headed to the counter, once again making eye contact with the teenager.
“How can I help you, miss?” Kyle called upon her, once again sporting a welcoming smile. The girl stepped closer to the counter and put her hands on her hips.
“Oh, I was looking to get some munster cheese sliced but that crabby old woman is using the machine,” she said in an alluring tone. She seemed wised beyond her years. Kyle looked over at Denise and sighed a bit louder than he intended. He then looked back and stared into the teen's dark, brown eyes. If Kyle didn't know better, he would say her eyes were black.
“Yeah, sorry about that,” he apologized, once again feeling himself being wrapped around the teen's finger. I should go yell at her to get off the machine so I can help my customer. That asshole... she yells at me not helping but then moves so slowly. “Is there... anything else I can get you in the meantime?”
“Hmm... Let me think,” the girl broke eye contact with Kyle and looked up at the various deals and sales that were hanging from overhead signs. “I don't think so. I just need that cheese.”
“I see,” he said absentmindedly. “I'm sure she'll be done soon.” She better be if she doesn't want to hear what I have to say.
“Oh, I can just come back later. I don't want to be too much trouble,” the teen said in a disappointed tone that nearly broke Kyle's heart.
“Let me go see if she's almost done first,” Kyle said quickly, desperate to help this girl. I'll make her be done if she's not.
“Oh thank you, I'll just hang out with my brother for moment,” the teen said, looking down at the young child standing next to her. Kyle gave her a head nod and a smile before marching over to where Denise was working.
“Hey, you almost done?” he asked in a condescending tone. Denise looked up from the cheese that she was slicing paper thing. She gave Kyle a surprised stare with her blue eyes before looking back at her stack of swiss.
“Does it look like I'm almost done?” she chirped back. “Go back on your coffee break until it's ready.”
“How about you stop being slow and let the real workers get the job done?” he returned. Denise almost gasped. Who does this bitch think she is? I'm so tired of her shit. I could just strangle her.
“Excuse me?” she shot back, standing up straight and putting her hand over her chest, legitimately shocked by Kyle's behavior. No one has ever spoken to her like this and she never expected to hear it from him.
“You're excused. You can fuck off now,” Kyle said in a cold tone that was foreign to him. He spoke in a voice that almost didn't sound like his. She needs to be taught a lesson. You can't treat people like this. Not without severe consequences.
“No!” she shouted, loud enough to gain the attention of all the coworkers and the customers. She pointed a skinny and wrinkled finger at Kyle, poking him in the chest. “You do not talk to me like that!”
“Well if weren't such an ugly bitch, maybe I would be nicer to you,” he returned, a wicked smile that matched the teen's crept along Kyle's face. I'll be her teacher. I'll crack her fucking skull open and shove some knowledge into it.
“Keep it up and I'm going to smack the shit of you!” she shrieked like a banshee. Customers walking past the deli now stopped their shopping to see what the commotion was about.
“That's a laugh you old bimbo,” Kyle chuckled, folding his arms and shaking his head at the smaller woman.
“Someone needs to teach you some manners, asshole!” Denise said before turning her back to Kyle, most likely to go found some manager to bring over. She never made it than a few steps from the boy. She let out a loud screech as Kyle tightly gripped her pony tail.
“Let me teach you some,” he brought her head back before roughly smacking it against the metal table the slicer sat upon. The impacted resonated throughout the deli as all the patrons let out loud gasps or yells. He brought her head back up and the woman looked at him through the blood that ran down her forehead. There was anger and fear in her blue eyes. There's was nothing but evil in Kyle's.
“No wonder you can't learn how to be nice with how thick your skull is,” he laughed again. A few of Kyle's coworkers started to approach the two, wanting to break up the bloody squabble. “Let's cut it out so you might learn something.” Denise's eyes grew wide as the sound of the slicer's blade begin to whirl. She let out a terrible scream as Kyle brought the spinning metal out of the cradle and shove her face against the disc.
Blood flung off the blade and landed in a neat line on the metal table and against the ceiling. Some spurts shot out and reddened Kyle's white butcher jacket he was wearing. Denise's face was easily cut in half by the machine. The cut ripped through her skin with ease, only slightly struggling after Kyle pushed the blade through her nose and against her bone. A screeching sound screamed out of Denise's face as the metal cut through her skull, separating her orbital bone from the rest of her face. Her eye fell out of the socket, losing the support that held it in place. The disc soon ripped through the cord connect the organ to her brain, causing the eyeball to plop on the ground and join the growing puddle of blood and bone.
It took Kyle less than ten seconds to send Denise's face through the slicer deep enough to reach her brain. Finally, one of his male coworkers reach the boy and tackled him into the ground, forcing them both to become drench in Denise's vital fluids. Her body fell limp onto the hard brick floor, the life having been cut out of her. More screams and shouts of horror surrounded the two men laying on the ground. Kyle only removed his toothy grin when a strong punch was delivered to his face by his coworker.
The only ones not expressing fear at the murder scene on display were the brother and sister, who were both now smiling wickedly.
“See?” the teenage girl asked, looking down at the boy. “Isn't it fun to play how the grown ups do?”
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