Aussie Horror Stories

Eric sat back on the cool dry grass in quiet and watched the womanly figure inside elegantly prepare a roast. She did it with such grace and delicacy and love he assumed she was cooking for her husband. There was a real beauty in the way her slim wrists manoeuvred pots and pans, and an adorable charm in how she strained herself chopping the veggies. Her soft baby pink sweater clung to her frame gently. It was a lovely shade against her creamy complexion. She looked snug. This girl, in her little home against the backdrop of the dusky indigo sky; it was all a picture of perfect contentment. He felt the car keys getting cold and sweaty in his clammy hands. He knew it would be time to go home soon. Sarah would be expecting him. Moreover the lucky guy married to this pretty girl would probably be expected home soon too. He figured there’d be time to drop in for a quick meet and greet though.

Eric made all his usual best-first-impression adjustments as he headed up to her front door. He licked his palm and slicked down his hair, rubbed the day’s work’s dirt off of his knuckles and straightened his shirt as best he could. Most importantly, he made sure he had his best grin firmly fixed on his face. Over the years he’d learnt that by keeping up the goofy smile he came across as affable and impish rather than surly and shy. He knocked firmly on the door and waited. He jiggled the keys in his hand impatiently. There wasn’t a lot of time.

“Hello.”

Her voice didn’t have the docile, sugary tone he’d been expecting. She wasn’t rude exactly, but up close she had no warmth. It was disappointing.

“Hi miss, how’s it going? I’m just popping by and thought I’d say hello.” Eric grinned his biggest, most harmless, most friendly smile. She looked a little taken aback. Was she going to be like one of those snobby girls there’d been so many of in high school?

“Oh hello!” She warmed a little. “Are you a friend of Teddy’s? I’m Anne. He won’t be home for another hour I’m afraid.”

She had an uncomfortable smile plastered to her face. The two smiled at each other and waited for the other to speak. Anne picked at the threads on the sleeve of her jumper. His eyes followed her slender, pretty fingers working away at her sleeve.

“Did you want to wait for him inside? Or drop by another time?”

“Now’s fine.” He threw her a friendly wink and stepped confidently inside.

Eric circled Teddy and Anne’s living room. He noted the budget cork-tiled floor and the fresh coat of yellow mustard paint on the walls. There wasn’t a lot in there. They had two lime green sofa chairs facing each other, the nice new kind with shiny wooden armrests and thick plush padding. Off to the side of the room they’d made a dining area. It was a nice enough dining table but it was clearly made out of cheap, shiny, wood. He could see Anne had tried to pretty it up with thin lacy table coverings and a fat bunch of butter-yellow wattle flowers in a stout clear glass vase. They weren’t fancy folk but their home still had an orderliness that, even though it was so plain, was so foreign to him. His place was more like a scrap yard filled with his scrubby kids and dying furniture, complete with a nice layer of grime and muck over everything. He couldn’t imagine Anne there. No, she was a homemaker and she’d done a good job of making a nice, pretty home for her husband.

“That smells delicious! Yummo! It smells like roast. Roast is my favourite.”

“Oh thanks. It’s Teddy’s favourite too. ”

Eric knew she still had cooking to do; she’d been just about to carve the roast up when he’d knocked on the door. But Anne wasn’t going back to assuredly making her very best roast. She was standing in her own living room looking unsure and awkward.

“Do you have a wife Mister… sorry I never asked your name.”

Why did they always have to bring Sarah into things? Eric didn’t want to think about his wife when he was out having fun, but then he felt bad for not wanting to think about her too. He preferred it when people didn’t ask about Sarah. Sarah was a good girl really, it wasn’t her fault she was such a drag nowadays.

“Yeah I’ve got a missus but she’s just busy watching the seven little rascals we’ve got running around. She doesn’t have time to waste on making things pretty.”

“Oh seven! How lovely!”

“They’re a handful alright.”

Something was off. She hovered in the doorway to the kitchen. Her delicate hand rested on the doorframe lightly, like she wasn’t sure if she was about to turn to the kitchen or stay facing him with her brown doe eyes.

“Is something wrong Anne? You’re not so friendly as I’d thought. You seem upset.” Eric spoke softly, but it was so dead quiet in their childless home that she heard him just fine.

“I’m just anxious for Teddy to get home, he should be home soon.”

His scrawny, hunched body turned towards her. He was short but he felt big. The presence of a lady was a sure way of making him feel important.

“Now, now I know that. No need to rush me.”

Her eyes flitted briefly to the kitchen behind her but they were back on him in a moment.

“What are you doing now? Do you need to keep cooking?”

Anne dropped her shaking hand back down to by her side.

“What are you doing? You can do what you like don’t mind me. I’m just the guest. Go on, you can keep on making the roast til Teddy gets here.”

Anne rubbed her neck uncomfortably.

“Go on then, don’t mind me.”

“Alright then. Well just, shout out if you need anything he should be home real soon!” She was being unnecessarily loud with false cheer but she couldn’t quite muster up the polite smile she’d held earlier. She headed to the kitchen towards the roast and tentatively picked up the carving knife. Eric followed her footsteps and stood behind her, his body curved behind hers as she stood over the counter, like a big protective spoon. She shuddered and glanced behind her in alarm. Her breathing picked up as she glanced up at his face and she began to let out dry, heavy sobs. He wasn’t a fan of the carry on. He had enough of that at home.

“Don’t fuss. I’m sure you know how to carve better than that. Go on.”

With shaky hands she placed the carving knife over the hunk of meat but she wasn’t focused enough to apply any pressure. She stood sobbing as the large knife shook over their dinner.

“Shhhhh….” He tried to quiet her. This just wouldn’t do. She reminded him of his whiny kids. Whenever they were little shits they’d always kick and scream and try and guilt him out of giving him the discipline they were headed for.

“I’m sure you can do better than this. Come on Teddy will be home soon and his dinner won’t be ready.”

He placed his hand over hers and helped her manoeuvre the knife in a strong firm sawing motion through the juicy roast. It smelt delicious.

He closed his eyes and leaned his body towards hers and inhaled the full rich scent of tasty meat, mixed with just a little of the smell of sweet talcum powder from her hair. Suddenly a sharp grating pain surged through his hand as the edge of the knife came down on him. He reacted to the pain quickly. He shoved her to the side hard so he could get to the sink. Eric cradled his cut hand and let the cool tap water flow over the gash. He felt the water sting him hot cold and sharp. He kept his eye on her as she sat sooky and blubbering frantically with her knife still in hand.

“That hurt you know. What was wrong with cutting the roast love?”

He picked up a tea towel and approached her with his stance wide and his body low, like he was cornering the family dog to put it outside. As he leered closer she attempted to wave the knife at him but her slight wrists made the threat weak and feeble. In one sure movement he pinned her arm against the kitchen cupboard and the knife fell out of her grip and clattered to the ground. Their faces were close. He tried to look her in the eye but she squirmed and blubbered turning all of her that she could away from him.

“Let’s get dinner ready then.”

He wrenched her to her feet still gripping her wrist.

“You’ll have to carve the roast I’m afraid, my hand isn’t up to it.”

Eric grabbed the knife and shoved it in her hand and gripped his bloodied hand over hers. His hand with hers sawed away haphazardly. His blood was dripping all over the counter but Anne was the one sobbing erratically. Eric grabbed two of the hunks of meat he’d managed to chop and threw them onto the plates she’d set out.

“There we go, dinner’s ready! Looks pretty perfect. I’d say it’d look better without my blood everywhere but that wasn’t really my fault was it?”

Eric shoved the two plates into Anne’s shaking hands. She was a sweaty mess. His blood was all over the place; knotted in the fine wool of her sweater and smears of it all up her forearms. The skin on her face was pink and blotchy from crying and her mouth kept making ugly shapes as she bawled. She wasn’t a pretty crier. They never had any strength or substance these girls. He was sick of her it was time to wrap this thing up.

Eric smiled at her big and mean and gestured politely for her to walk through the kitchen door into the living room in front of him. The plates trembled in her weak grip and she obediently headed for the door. Her footsteps were slow and timid. Even though he was still drawn to her feminine frailty it was really starting to get on his nerves. He gave the small of her back a firm little shove but instead of faltering forward as he expected she dropped the plates and took off. She ran low and urgent past the living room and down the hallway. Eric chased after her fast but he was caught off guard and his steps were clumsy. He caught a glimpse of her cream pink sweater and shiny brown hair whipping round the corner of the hallway in front of him but he couldn’t reach her in time. She made it through the backdoor and managed to slam it shut in front of him. He rattled the dodgy doorknob in frustration but in a moment he’d managed to wrench it open.

He flung the door flung wide and stepped out into the warm night air. The sun had set but there was a little of its afterglow left leaving the sky an ever-darkening navy blue. The summer heat lingered comfortably and the cicadas clicked in chorus round him. He couldn’t hear her run or scream so she must have chosen to keep close and stay quiet, which was a smart move on her part because they had no neighbours. Mr & Mrs Teddy and Anne were the only residents on Karrinyup Road. Their street was made up of one unfinished home after another, the projects of bright, new, young couples midway through building their dream homes.

So she was playing a child’s game of hide and seek. Eric could work with that. He took sure, steady steps to closer inspect the sparse bushes near their chicken-wire fence. He listened out for the sound of Anne crying or whimpering but he only heard the crunch of dry grass under his heavy tread. He felt the brunt of something metal strike him hard, it deflected off his back and managed to nick the back of his head too. Anne watched him stumbling about in an angry daze. She held the shovel above her head threateningly. She looked more deranged than frightened now but she didn’t strike him again and the swaying urge to keel over passed. He hoisted himself upright and stood tall.

“Don’t be stupid love. Drop the shovel.”

Anne swung the shovel hard at the air in front of her but he was out of her reach so she kept swiping. She was getting panicked and tired. He watched her little hands fiercely grip the shovel, like that’d be enough.

“I’ll hit you again! I’ll hit you harder!”

He edged closer and she swiped the shovel faster and shallower again and again. It hit the side of his rib cage and he grunted in pain but he edged closer still. She let out a loud scream but it seemed to go nowhere. It didn’t reverberate and it wasn’t piercing. The world ate it up and it dissipated in the air with no one to hear it.

The pair writhed and wrestled on the dry earth. Anne kicked and cried and hit her tiny bound fists against his chest. She spat angrily in his face. It was warm and wet. She kept up the fight but he managed to securely wrap a hand firmly round each of her wrists. She continued to kick at the air and huff and puff away but Eric dragged her with relative calm back towards her home like her body was already dead.

She kicked madly at her own hallway walls as he dragged her past them and yelled a mixture of pleas and insults but he wasn’t listening to her too closely. Now that he had the situation under control again he remembered the time. The nagging knowledge he should have been heading on home already unsettled him. A bubbling anxiousness was tugging his mind away from the girl in his grip.

He dragged her to the bedroom and grabbed a pair of shiny gossamer stockings off the floor. They were the sheer kind that gave you a lovely gleam of skin under the thin threads of fabric. Eric wrapped them tight around her slim wrists and bound them so close together that the fabric pressed into her flesh and made her hands red. He would have loved to spend more time with her but there wasn’t enough of it left tonight. He brushed her straggly hair back from her dirtied sweaty forehead. The gesture left a glistening red ribbon of his blood in her hair. He reminded himself to think up some story about how he got the gash in case Sarah happened to ask him about it.

He left her moaning about on her bedroom floor without bothering to speak to her again. He had to be quick now. Precious Teddy would be home soon and he probably wouldn’t be too happy to see his girl had mucked up dinner.

Eric drove fast down dead Karrinyup Road, one hand on the wheel, while the other perused through the glove box for a pack of smokes. Bingo! He popped one slim, sleek cigarette between his lips and kept fishing around trying to find a light. Surely the fancy guy who owned this car kept a spare light somewhere.

It was truly pitch-black now. The unsteady, moving light thrown from the car headlights was his only way of seeing, not that there was much chance he’d run into anyone or anything anyway. No one lived here, no one drove here, no one went outside and had any fun here. He couldn’t see it but he knew the wide, flat, sparse expanse of Perth was stretched out in front of him and it was his to do as he wanted. The dumb pretty girl in the pink sweater, the ruined roast, the urgency he’d had to go home – all of it – dropped from his mind. The adrenalin rush he got from driving free and fast in a pretty car buzzed all through his veins, right to his fingertips. He flexed his hands over the steering wheel and pressed down on the accelerator hard. Eric felt like he was a lone, noisy, reckless racquet in the miles of quiet round him. In all of scant, silent Perth he was the only one who got bored. He was their problem child, the classroom’s naughty kid, the only one with any impulse or imagination.

Nope, looked like fancy men with fancy cars didn’t keep spare lighters in their glove boxes. He threw the ciggie from his lips but pocketed the packet. He started driving towards Scarborough, a beachside drive and moonlit walk along Scarborough cliff would be nice.

He pulled up on the side of the road closest to Scarborough beach, opposite from the big rich houses, and parked it with precision. He was careful not to leave any scratches. He left the keys in the ignition just where he’d found them and shut the car door securely behind him. He gave the bonnet a little goodbye pat as he walked past. This baby had given him one of his most enjoyable joyrides yet.

He strolled on alongside the road down towards the lookout. The ocean was like black glass. Its waves broke on the shore gently and slowly in a soothing rhythmic lull. The moon looked huge and beautiful and threw white silver light all over the beachfront. Scarborough lookout had always a popular spot for lovebirds and the young couple linking arms in front of him had the perfect date night playing out before them. They reached the lookout just ahead of Eric and they paused right on the edge of the cliff under the full glow of the moon. She rested her head tenderly on her partner’s shoulder and looked up into his face. Eric cleared his throat.

“Beautiful isn’t it?”

The couple faced him with friendly smiles. The man’s arm was wrapped round his lady’s waist and her hand was rested on his stomach.

“Oh yes such a beautiful night. We’ve got a full moon too.”

The three stood and admired view for a moment.

“Sorry to bother you, but do you have a lighter?”

Eric held out his cigarette while the man searched through his jacket pockets. He leaned into the little lighter flame, lit the ciggie and inhaled the rich, aromatic tobacco. Rich folk sure had nice smokes.

“Oh! What’s happened to your hand? Are you alright?”

Eric glanced down at the bloody messy gash on the back of his hand. It had gotten much worse since he’d last looked at it and it hurt a fair bit now that it was brought to his attention again.

“I tripped on the walk here. It’s fine I’ll fix it up when I’m home.”

“You can dress it at ours if you like? We live just round the corner. I’m a doctor so you’ll be in safe hands.”

Well these two sure seemed like nice people.

“Well maybe that’d be best. Thanks.” And Eric gave them his widest, most becoming toothy grin.