Short Horror Stories ^~^

Sink Hole

Todd picked up another beer, and was about to hand it to me when Junior cursed and said, "Why the hell are we letting this clown drink with us. What happened to the plan? We can't let him get off this easy."

Chris shifted uneasily and said, "I didn't think you were serious, man. He could get hurt, or worse."

Todd giggled and said with a slur in his voice, "Oooo you trying to protect your Kindergarten bestie now?"

"Man up or go home – the road is that way." said Junior as he pointed over his shoulder with his thumb.

Chris looked down at the ground, but didn't say anything. I knew I was in trouble, and that I didn't want to stick around to find out what Junior had planned for me.

"Todd, get the rope out of the truck. Let's get going. I don't wanna be here all night. I wanna get over to that party before the keg runs out." said Junior.

Todd stumbled over to the back of the SUV in a drunken stupor, but couldn't figure out how to open the trunk.

"Damnit." muttered Junior through clenched teeth as he stomped over to the back of the SUV.

I knew that was my only chance. I didn't want to stick around and find out what Junior had in store for me. I slowly began to back away from Chris, who looked at me but said nothing. I silently thanked him, spun around, and sprinted off into the darkness.

Thirty second later I heard a loud curse and knew that Junior had learned about my escape. I had to find someplace to hide since there was no way I could outrun them. The problem is, there isn't any place to hide on a farm. Wide, open land surrounded the farmhouse, which I was running away from.

Junior tackled me two minutes later, at the edge of the small pond where my father had tried to dig the well so many years ago. Junior pushed my face into soft ground, and twisted my arms behind my back.

"Gimme that rope now, Todd." said Junior.

Todd, breathing heavily from the run, looked like he was going to throw up. All that beer sloshing around in his stomach I guess. Junior tied my hands behind my back tightly, the nylon rope digging into my wrists and cutting off circulation to my hands. He held the other end of the rope in his hand.

He gave the rope a jerk and said, "You're not going anywhere now. Got you on a leash like the yellow bellied dog you are."

I stood facing Junior and Todd, and saw Chris walking up from behind them. He was about fifteen feet away, when the earth beneath his feet lowered a few inches, and a pale hand with blackened fingernails reached up through the damp soil and grabbed onto his ankle and jerked downwards. Chris screamed and jumped forwards, managing to free his ankle from the grasp of whatever lay beneath him.

Junior looked back and said, "What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Something grabbed my foot back there. I think my ankle's sprained." Said Chris, wincing as he gingerly prodded his ankle.

Junior said, "You're starting to sound more and more like this coward. You snagged your foot on a root. You've had too many beers."

Two grotesque hands again rose from the ground, and grabbed both of Chris's ankles and began to pull Chris down into a widening hole. Chris screamed and tried to rip his legs free, all the while sinking deeper into the soil. Junior and Todd sprinted forward, and each grabbed one of Chris's hands.

"Pull!" yelled Junior.

Chris's screams intensified, now waist deep in the ground, his eyes bulged as blood began to dribble from his mouth.