A collection of horror shorts.
SHOWER SCENE:
One rainy night, Wesley Bishop lounges alone, sipping a Jack and coke. Though his girlfriend is on her way, Wesley browses a dating app, fantasizing about women he's only seen in photos. He's unashamed, e...
Ups! Tento obrázek porušuje naše pokyny k obsahu. Před publikováním ho, prosím, buď odstraň, nebo nahraď jiným.
Rain pattered against the roof of Wesley Bishop's modern, sparsely-furnished penthouse. It was a Friday night, a night he'd typically be out at Cat's Eye drinking jack and diet cokes, but raincoats really weren't Wesley's style. So, stuck in the penthouse for the night, and still wanting to enjoy a few jack and diet cokes, Wesley gave Sharon a call.
Wes met Sharon at Cat's Eye four months ago. When he first saw her, she was just his type. Long, dark, shiny hair. Tan, smooth skin. Angelina Jolie lips. And a rock-hard, fitness-model body that was still slim enough not to turn him off.
Wes got her number that night, and they started seeing each other almost every week. It was a good deal for Wes. He liked always having someone to call, especially on rainy Friday nights.
As much as he enjoyed having his go-to booty call, Wes had been avoiding Sharon the past two weeks. Sharon was in grad school studying bio-something, Wes couldn't honestly remember, and she was so stressed out about her research that she'd been no fun at all in bed lately. Also, she'd started talking about introducing him to her parents, even meeting her family for Thanksgiving...
It was all very overwhelming for Wesley.
But since it was Friday night, and since there was no way he could leave the house in this weather, he called the only girl he knew would definitely come to him.
Sharon said she was finishing up in the lab and that she'd come right over in about an hour or so. Wes hung up the phone and cursed. If Sharon was coming straight from the lab, then she'd probably be too tired to have sex. And she'd probably be wearing her glasses, too, which Wes hated. He was in a bad mood.
He checked the time: 9:43 p.m. He sighed and walked to the kitchen, where stacks of dirty plates were piled in the sink. The dishes had accumulated throughout the week, which didn't really bother him, but since Sharon was coming over he started to load them into the dishwasher. He always cleaned the place before having women over.
He grimaced at the smell as he sifted through the pile of dirty plates, cups and silverware. He rinsed each dish lightly before placing them one by one into the dishwasher. When he reached the end of the pile, Wes gagged at the smell: a pile of old, soggy spaghetti sat at the bottom of the drain from four or five days ago. The noodles were bloated and mushy from the hot water and chunks of tomato had turned slightly brown. An intensely sweet, but acrid smell wafted up from the rotting pile.
Disgusted, Wes held his breath and reached for the switch beside the sink to turn on the garbage disposal. It whirred, sucked and swallowed the mess down the drain.
Satisfied, Wes poured himself a jack and diet coke then walked to the living room and sat down on the couch. He still had time to kill before Sharon got there. He pulled out his phone and opened up one of his dating apps.
He scrolled through several profiles, eyeing the photos, zooming in on the most interesting parts. There were a lot of attractive girls on the app, but Wes knew that with makeup, angles, filters and edits, photos could be deceiving.
