From Generation to Degeneration : Scary Stories – Short Horror Story

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“Please, Daddy,” Sarah begged through convulsive sobs. “I promise I’ll be good.”

Ben Flannigan’s heart broke. He ceased shoveling and wrapped his arms around his daughter.

“You’re always a good girl, honey,” Ben answered, holding her tightly. “Robbie is a good boy too. We just don’t have a choice, that’s all.”

“You’re the best children in the world,” Rita Flannigan added. “It’s for your own good.”

Rita kissed Sarah’s forehead and lowered her into the casket. Sarah wiped snot away from her face. Her teeth chattered. She whimpered as the lid closed over her.

“Come on, son,” Ben said to Robbie, pointing to another shovel.

“Yes, sir,” Robbie replied.

After thirty minutes, the casket was several feet underground. Ben checked the garden hose to see if it was clear. He didn’t want his daughter to suffocate.

“Can you breathe?” Ben shouted into the hose.

“Yeah,” Sarah’s voice echoed back.

“I’m so sorry, honey,” Rita apologized.

Out of the corner of his eye, Ben saw his neighbor, Jeff, watching them over the fence between their yards.

“Howdy, neighbors,” Jeff greeted.

“How’s it hanging?” Ben replied.

“Same shit, different Hallo-fucking-ween,” Jeff answered. “Need any help?”

Ben looked at his watch. 11:45 p.m. He frowned, acknowledging his neighbor’s hidden meaning.

“Yeah, I could use the help so long as you’re finished,” Ben answered.

“Jake’s been out since ten. Ambien. Got him roped up and in the basement closet. Padlocked and sealed,” Jeff said. “More worried about Robbie, to be honest. No offense, boy.”

“None taken, sir,” Robbie answered.

“Twelve years of this shit under his belt, Robbie knows what’s up,” Ben said. “You ready, son?”

Robbie took a deep breath and said, “It’s go time!”

“Attaboy, this last time ain’t nothing,” Jeff said, coming into the yard.

“Lay down,” Rita commanded. Robbie laid across a thick king-size blanket and crossed his arms over his chest. Jeff and Ben rolled Robbie around in the blanket, leaving only his head free. Rita placed another blanket on the ground and did it again for good measure.

“Can you breathe alright?” Ben asked.

“Yes, sir,”

“Good shit,” Jeff answered and checked his watch. “And not a moment too soon.”

It was 11:59 p.m. Then the clock struck midnight, and it was Halloween.

The crickets stopped playing their nocturnal songs. The stillness of the night weighed heavily upon them. They waited, eyes firmly set on the dirt mound where Sarah’s casket had been buried.

Robbie hissed words in a language and a voice that weren’t his. His eyes glowed ruby red. Ectoplasm leaked from his nose and mouth. They paid him no mind. At the cusp of manhood, the demonic link was at its weakest. The blankets would suffice.

The dirt over Sarah’s casket moved like the ground was breathing. Despite the weight of the earth and casket, what was now Sarah, lifted the coffin lid. Ben cursed himself for not nailing it shut.

He hoped it would hold.

God help them all if it didn’t.

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