Horrific

Empty Canisters

I know you guys like the links and connections so I've been working on that. If you haven't yet, check out my "Linked Short Stories." They not only have a whole web of their own connections but many also connect to Horrific Short Stories as well as my other works. This story was written no only to scare but also to spark a load of new connections. Enjoy!
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"Jesus.." The young man said, pulling his good up and over his head. Peter had expected kickback but not so quickly. He had only gotten to his third house and already the helicopters were beginning to arrive.

With the third fire now lit, he tucked the box of matches back into his jeans pocket and and threw the empty red gas canister into the yard. Making sure no one could see him, he fled through the backyard into the woods.

The town of Toppok Maine was not a large one and was bordered by dense miles of forest on nearly all sides. Peter found himself right on that border. Making his way North into the edge of the forest, he could not be seen.

The first house had been towards the center of town: His math teacher. She had always been strict and never truly taught. Her class had been Hell. He only felt it fair if he returned the favor.

The second house was a trailer on the East side of town, only a few miles West of Plymouth. That had been Tank's house. Tank had been the large boy who knocked the books out of his hands in between classes. He also deserved to burn from Peter's point of view.

And Lesley? Lesley was just a bitch. Had only dated him because he had a dirt bike and rich parents. And once she dumped him for Michael Preston, she made the list. The list he had been working on over the last year. The list to get his revenge.

Because while Toppok was a small quiet town with plenty of nice people, it also knew darkness. The darkness of evil ice cream overlords, of hungry wolves that roamed the forests, of ruthless men who had chains in their basement. And of course the darkness of a high school student that had been pushed perhaps just a little too far.

Getting onto his dirt bike, he took off before anyone could arrive. He watched the fire grow bigger and glow in the distance. He had been planning this night for over a year now. Had even taken the time to hide the canisters of gasoline at every location before hand. And now, all he had to do was light the last fire and get rid of the last victims on his list.

He rode his dirt bike West, just above the town, until he had reached the far Northwest corner of Toppok.

He stopped behind the house, parking and getting off his bike along the edge of the forest. He pulled his hood off and grabbed the two red canisters that he had hidden in the back bushes.

Walking around the house into the front yard, Peter lugged the canisters up and onto the front porch, not yet opening them. While he had simply walked around the other houses and drenched the outer walls and siding, he had other plans for this one. This one was special.

Sitting one canister down on the bench by the door, he reached out for the door handle. It twisted under his grip and he pushed it open, letting him into the dark entryway. However before entering the sleeping home, he carefully removed the caps from each fuel container. It was time for his last revenge of the evening.

With an open gas container in each hand, Peter entered the house with his arms swinging. Gas splashed the foyer, soaking the tile floor. Turning left, he entered the living room and continued to pour gas everywhere. The room reeked of gasoline by the time he made his way into the kitchen.

He made sure the the dining table and the sour rounding counters and cabinets were soaked before he paraded up the stairs. Pouring the liquid the whole way.

Now upstairs, Peter marched down the hall and kicked open the door that lay at the end of it. Finishing off each of the canisters in this final room, he throws them aside, sending them clattering against the wall.

The heavy man in the bed jumps up at the sound of it. Removing his night shield from his eyes, he looks around wildly. His jump and rest on Peter who is now standing at the end of his bed.

"P..Peter?!" He says, choking on his words. "Is that you?!"
"In the flesh." He responds coldly.

The man's face changes from one of surprise to that of anger.

"I thought I told you not to come home this time Peter." He says, his face turning red.
"You're right dad." Peter agrees, removing the box of matches from his pocket.
"I'll leave." He says, dropping the match he has just struck.

His father looks at him in confusion before the entire house explodes in fire.