The Shaun Hupp Collection Volume 1 Read online

  Contents

  Copyright

  Title Page

  Acknowledgements

  CHAPTER ONE Mother

  Mother

  I Will Make You Love Me

  Mother2

  CHAPTER TWO Father

  Father

  The Worst Kind of Monster

  Father2

  CHAPTER THREE Daughter

  Daughter

  Last Words

  Daughter2

  CHAPTER FOUR Son

  Son

  Pound

  Son2

  A Plea from the Author

  About the Author

  The Shaun Hupp Collection

  Volume 1

  By Shaun Hupp

  Copyright: Shaun Hupp

  Published: November 2015

  The right of Shaun Hupp to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by his in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.

  All the characters in this book are fictitious,

  and any resemblance to actual persons,

  living or dead is coincidental.

  Cover design by Shaun Hupp

  The

  Shaun Hupp

  Collection

  Volume 1

  They say it takes a village to raise a child. The same can be said about a book. Most people just see my name on the cover. They don’t know about the people in the background, behind the scenes. Without that help, this book simply would not have been born. It is an evolution of creativity and I owe many people thanks for their contributions.

  To name a few;

  W.B. Grape and Dottie Turner edited and proofread most of these stories and for that, I am eternally grateful. You guys kicked my butt grammatically. Also, much love goes out to my beta readers for helping me to articulate my stories, for you, my audience. Their opinions helped me fill plot holes with dead bodies and their suggestions covered those same holes with dirt so nobody would notice. They are my accomplices.

  I’d like to give a special mention to author Matt Shaw for all his advice and support. He took a gamble with his own reputation as a successful writer to include me, along with other emerging writers in a collection to promote my writing career. Goodwill is rare, and it will be reciprocated. I am truly proud to have gone from being a fan to his colleague and friend. Just don’t tell him I said that.

  Finally, I’d like to give a special thank you to Christina Cooper over at Fans of Modern Horror. Her genuine love of the written word and her relentless push and promotion of my work has left me truly humbled. Christina, you have slightly warmed my cold, dead heart. You should feel proud. Keep doing what you’re doing and I’ll keep on writing.

  Shaun Hupp

  CHAPTER ONE

  Mother

  The old man sat alone and that’s the way he liked it. He was never a people person, but he could fake it if need be. And now it need be. He had suddenly felt dreadfully weak. He looked at his reflection in the glass and saw what he had feared. He didn’t understand why he let himself get like this. He should have fed earlier. It wasn’t like it was getting harder to do. These days, people were easily distracted by their cell phones, Kindles, and other various technologies that he himself did not quite understand. And those that weren’t blinded by their handheld devices were out causing the chaos he so yearned for: Bloodshed; Mayhem; Brutality. He wasn’t a picky man. While normal people watched through the protection of their digital screens, he sought to satisfy his cravings by walking into the very darkness they hid from.

  It wasn’t going to be easy. He found himself in the worst possible place. He needed an outlet to charge his batteries, but as he sat on that uncomfortable seat, inside this dirty rectangle, flying along the tracks down a tunnel underneath the city of New York, he realized that he might just die in that very seat, turning this subway car into his coffin. He had no choice. He had to make due.

  I must feed. Now.

  “Mom, would you listen to me for once? Me and Ryan are going City University.”

  The old man’s attention perked. No one else was talking in this subway car. It was late and everybody seemed too tired to hold a conversation. He was about to move to another car, but this had potential. Perhaps he might make it a few more days depending if this worked. He leaned forward to listen to the teenage girl and her mother.

  “Marianne, you’ve got good grades. You can really go places. You can do much better than City University.”

  “Don’t you mean ‘better than Ryan’?”

  “No. I didn’t mean-“

  “You know what, Mother? Maybe, you’re right. Maybe WE shouldn’t go there. Maybe WE should both go somewhere far away from here and far away from you!”

  The teenager left her seat and stormed off towards the front of the train car, her long blond hair smacking other passengers on the way. She sat next to a young man about her age and wrapped her arms around him. The old man assumed that he must be one they were fussing about. She put in a pair of earbuds and curled up in his arms while her mother sat fuming several rows back.

  The other passengers turned away and looked out their windows to either ease the mother’s embarrassment or theirs. This made it so much simpler for the old man. He stood as quick as his aching bones would allow and made his move. His cane thumped against the floor of the subway car, but it was easily masked by the sounds of the rails. It had been awhile since he had to actually use the cane to walk. The mother was staring at the back of her daughter’s head and didn’t even see him until he sat down next to her in the seat that was previously her daughter’s.

  She jumped. “My GOD! You scared me.”

  He smiled, his yellowed teeth peeking out from between his cracked lips. “No. I most definitely am not your God. My name is Emrys Sarlic and I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  Emrys extended his ancient hand. She reluctantly took it. “Joan.”

  “Ahh, such a beautiful name for such a beautiful woman. I couldn’t help but hear you and your daughter arguing.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to disturb anyone. It seems like we’ve had this same fight over and over. We just can’t-”

  Joan’s voice fell away. Her eyes became vacant. Emrys had raised his cane so the top was at her eye level. The cane featured a white glass globe with just a little bit of red at the bottom. The white insides seemed to swirl, mesmerizing Joan. She could not look away.

  “Love and college. Both are counterproductive to each other but regardless, they always go hand-in-hand. However, this doesn’t mean you should let this go, Joan. The combination of the two can prove very dangerous, deadly even.”

  Joan was unmoving. The rest of the train car didn’t seem to even notice the two of them anymore as if they were in some sort of blind spot.

  “I want to tell you a story if I may? It’s not a happy story I warn you, but a necessary one. It’s a story of revenge and love gone wrong. It’s a story that could very well be your daughter’s if you let it.”

  Joan slowly nodded, watching the swirling white within the globe dance. Her body may have been sitting on the subway, but her mind was not. She was within his words as he began to spin his tale.

  I Will Make You Love Me

  An Extreme Tale of

  Sex, Lies, & Duct Tape

  Megan Weber reluctantly opened her mouth and let him put it in. There was no use r
efusing or trying to get away. Her hands were bound together with multiple layers of thick duct tape behind her back. He had forced her to her knees and his grip on her long, black hair would only tighten if she struggled. Within seconds, the long shaft was sliding in and out between her pouty but unwilling lips.

  “Suck it. Suck it like you used to.”

  She looked up and met Nick’s eyes. She could barely see them through his shaggy, brown hair. He normally kept his hair professionally trimmed short, but he obviously didn’t care anymore. She silently pleaded him not to do this, but those dark eyes were not the same baby blue eyes she fell in love with. Those eyes were gone. That man was gone. She lowered her gaze back to the task at hand and did as he said.

  “You fucking like that, don’t you? Do you miss it?”

  Megan couldn’t speak. She tried to nod her head as Nick’s thrusts intensified. She gagged as he struck the back of her throat. He wasn’t this rough when they were a couple. She had never seen this side of him.

  “That’s a good girl. Bet you wish it was the real thing.”

  Nick pulled the six-inch barrel of his Smith and Wesson revolver out of her mouth. Its front sight knocked against her top teeth as it exited. Nick’s right hand was firmly around the wooden grip as he aimed the weapon between her eyes. Her saliva dripped off its black finish.

  “Please,” she begged. “You don’t have to do this.”

  Nick laughed. “What choice do I have? You dumped me. You called me a mistake. Well, this mistake is going to set things right.”

  Megan sobbed uncontrollably while the man she once loved held a gun to her forehead. Why was he doing this, she asked herself. She had broken up with him about a year ago, but she had told Nick that she wanted to remain friends. He agreed, however quickly disappeared. No texts. No calls. He even left his job. She hadn’t seen him since. She thought this part of her life was over and done with. She was happy now in her new relationship. She had moved on. Apparently, Nick did not.

  “I told you… I can’t change who I am.”

  Nick pistol whipped the side of her head and without the use of her hands, Megan hit the floor hard on her side. At that moment, she was glad she finally finished renovating the inside of this old farmhouse after her parents left it to her. She had replaced the roof, fixed all the windows, painted all the walls, and most importantly, installed carpeting. Even so, she saw stars and before she could sit up, Nick flipped her over and pushed her face against the floor. She could feel his muscular frame pushing down on her tiny torso and more worrisome, the barrel pressed against the back of her head.

  “Well, go on. You’re a carpet-muncher now, right?”

  Crude, but he was right, she thought. Over a year ago, she finally realized she was a lesbian. While she cared a great deal for Nick, she never fully felt comfortable with him or any other guy in that way. It was hard to explain, but she knew she wasn’t feeling the same things that other girls felt with their boyfriends. It was as if she was playing some part in a play. She was trying to be the person her friends and family wanted her to be. After so many failed relationships with men her age, she had thought that maybe dating an older man was what she needed. None of her friends approved of Nick. One of her friends even suggested that she was trying to replace her father with him. She pressed on hoping that those feelings would bloom inside of her.

  They never did.

  As she grew more and more depressed, she sought out comfort in a fellow student she didn’t know very well. She thought the girl was just friendly. It turned out that she was attracted to Megan. After a drunken night of experiences Megan never had before, she knew, then and there, who she was. She couldn’t even remember the girl’s name, but she will never forget the way she made Megan feel. It was as if the final piece of the puzzle was put into place and she could finally be happy with whom she was as a person.

  When she met Nick for dinner the next night, she had planned to tell him about her revelation and break up with him. She hoped he would take it well. I’m just a college student, she thought. I shouldn’t be expecting anything serious out of him and neither should he. We’re just two people having a good time.

  Nick had different plans that night.

  He had a ring in his pocket.

  “You said you loved me!” he screamed, shocking her back to present-day reality. “I left my wife for you. I risked my whole career for you.”

  He was right again. They had met as student and teacher at a state university. She was in her first year, trying to finish up her prerequisites when she decided to take Professor Heston’s Intro to American History class. She was barely passing her other classes, but she excelled in his class. Professor Heston showed such passion during his lectures that she hung on every word. She quickly found herself moving from the back of the lecture hall to the front row, from the classroom to his office, from calling him Professor Heston to calling him Nick, from campus coffee shops to hotel rooms. Before she knew it, she was in a full-fledged relationship with a man twenty years her senior, and he was leaving his wife for her.

  “I’m sorry, Nick. I truly am. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I had just moved out of my mom’s house and started college. Everything was so new to me. I didn’t even know myself.”

  “It’s too late to apologize. What’s done is done, but don’t you worry. I can fix this.”

  Nick climbed off her and rolled her onto her back. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a grey rag. He used it to wipe the spit off his gun. Megan could smell the oil on the cloth.

  It was then that she remembered what had happened. It all came rushing back to her. There was a knock on the door. She wasn’t expecting anybody and didn’t receive many visitors this far out in the country. She could see a shadowy silhouette behind the frosted glass window on the almost new door. She didn’t even think twice before she opened it. She was so shocked to see Nick standing there. His unkempt hair, unshaven face, and clothes were so out of character for him. In the past, he had always liked to dress professionally, whether he was in the classroom or lounging around at home. His closet had nothing but sweater vests and tweed jackets. He stood at the entryway in an old, stained sweatshirt and torn jeans that looked like they weren’t good enough for the Goodwill. No words were shared between them. Her jaw hung open and she didn’t have time to react, as he lunged for her and pressed that smelly rag over her mouth and nose. When she awoke, she found herself staring down the barrel of one of the guns from his antique collection.

  The present situation hadn’t changed much.

  “You see, Meg, while you were snoozing, I did some snooping. I’ve been watching you for some time now and I know what your girlfriend looks like, but I didn’t know her name. Luckily, all you kids have cell phones and you didn’t delete those text messages from earlier today. You know the ones. I love you more. No, I love you more. Guess what, darling? I texted Shannon and she should be here any minute.”

  Megan felt her heart stop. “Don’t hurt her!”

  Nick smiled and started walking in a circle around her. “That’s exactly what I plan to do, Meg. That’s part one: Kill the bitch. Do you want to know what part two is? I bet you can’t guess.”

  “Please…I’ll do whatever you want. Just leave her alone.”

  Nick brought his boot down on the side of her ribs. Megan curled up in the fetal position with tears streaming down her face.

  “You were supposed to say, ‘Why yes, Nick. I would love to hear part two of your brilliant plan.’ And I would say, ‘Thank you for asking and being so polite, Meg’.

  Part two involves the concept of Stockholm’s Syndrome. Pop quiz time, class. Have you heard of it? Probably not. Too busy making googly eyes at your teacher and ruining his life. Anyways, the year was 1973. In Stockholm, Sweden, some bank employees were taken hostage for about six days, around 130 hours. In that short amount of time, they formed an emotional connection to their captors to the point of sympathizing with them and eve
n defending them after they were free.

  That’s what I want from you, darling. I’m not going to kill you. I just want to keep you here for a while. We’ll talk and reminisce about the good times. Eventually, you will start falling for me all over again. I want you to love me again. I WILL make you love me. Say that you love me.”

  “I . . . I can’t.”

  Nick brought his foot down, stomping on her ribs again. “Say it!”

  “I . . . HATE YOU!”

  Nick had his foot raised for another assault but put it down. Instead, he climbed on top of Megan and wrapped his hands around her throat. “It doesn’t have to be like this, Meg. Why are you being so difficult? It can be like it was. What do I have to do? Brick up all the windows and doors? I’ll do it if it means you’ll love me again.”

  Megan tried bucking him off with her legs and hips, but it was no use. He outweighed her and with her hands behind her back, she had no chance of prying his off her neck. She couldn’t get any air and was fading fast. The last thing she had heard before she passed out was Nick whispering in her ear, “I love you.”