Last House On Baskin Lane... A short sci-fi horror story by Chuck Keyes

Last House On Baskin Lane

A short sci-fi horror story by Chuck Keyes

          With a smug smile stretched across his handsome face, Cobb Babcock leaned back in his leather desk chair while gazing up at one of his eight wall mounted television monitors. Two of the furniture moving men are struggling with a colorful long sofa, attempting to shift it sideways through the doorway from the central hallway into the front parlor. He figured their job would be much easier if they didn't have bodies resembling Laurel and Hardy.

          Since he constructed the house almost four years ago, today's new family will be the seventh to move in. This is an exciting day for Cobb. Generally, he likes to meet the entire family before they move in; however, this time he only met the father, Mr. Daniel Tate. Cobb rented his house based only on Dan's loving descriptions of his wife and children. A perfect happy family to satisfy his desires. He figures the happier the family is, the more they have to lose when he brutally murders them.

          To prevent his rental house from being vacant too long between families, Cobb offers a below average rent-to-own monthly payment, thus providing him many families to choose from. They must be a special loving family that'll also please his inner entity. It was his entity that told him to build this house with a hidden surveillance room located on the far end of the second floor. At the time, he figured if he builds it, the sacrificial humans would line up to live in it. Attached to the room is a small alcove bathroom and a kitchenette. His own little soundproof efficiency apartment where his inner entity and he can stealthy watch and hear every family member by way of his hidden cameras, microphones, and monitors. Like the past six families who have lived here, Cobb will please his inner entity by studying and tormenting each family member, preparing them for the final day of sacrifice. A blood feast of death, allowing his inner entity to feed and flourish upon the family's fear. The same fear his entity has enjoyed throughout history, when it dwelled within the insane minds of other human beings, such as Ted Bundy, Jeffrey Dahmer, Ed Gein, David Berkowitz, Henry Lee Lucas, and scores of other serial killers. The entity enjoys offering an inner voice for enticing its endless hunger for blood-curdling carnage. It's always searching for the ultimate perfection of fear within the agonizing death rattles of the victims its human host murders.

          Dan Tate drove to the end of Baskin Lane and stopped in the middle of the turnaround circle. "Okay, everyone, you can open your eyes now."

          "Oh, Dan, this is a beautiful house," voiced Cathy. She leaned over and gave him a kiss. "It certainly is a big house."

          Dan chuckled. "The house is big enough so when I'm in a wolf howling mood, I can chase you from room to room."

          "There won't be any chasing if this pretty Texas house doesn't have a dishwasher and garbage disposal," Cathy said along with a giggle."

          "Oh my God," huffed Ivy. It's hard to believe my middle age parents are like oversexed teenagers. I like our new house, but we have no neighbors. This is going to be like living on an uninhabited planet."

          "What we have my dear daughter, is plenty of privacy so I can design Forsite's new Dallas skyscraper."

          "Come on, Dad, I want to see my new bedroom," yammered Jeffrey.

          "Okay, son," said Dan. He drove their SUV into the driveway and parked in front of the right garage door. "Let's go check out our new house."      

          Cathy, Ivy, Jeffrey, and his little mongrel dog, Mr. Sparks, followed Dan around to the front door. Dan slid the key into the lock, noticing the door isn't locked. "Oops, the movers must've left the door unlocked."

          "The movers better not have broken any of my stuff," complained Jeffrey, "especially my computer!"

          Dan swung the door open, allowing his family to step into the front alcove. Cathy and Jeffery scampered off to search for their new bedrooms. Cathy looked up to admire the crystal chandelier hanging in the center of the alcove. "Oh my, Dan, I can't believe we can afford this place."

          "Surprisingly, the rent-to-own monthly payment is only seven hundred dollars, and we're lucky to be only twenty-three miles from downtown Dallas."

          Cathy took hold of her husband's hand. "I want to go check out my new kitchen." She pulled him along the central hallway. After stepping into the kitchen, Cathy excitedly twirled around. "Wow! A dishwasher, a garbage disposal, a built in microwave, and a trash compactor." She giggled like a child being tickled. "My dear husband, when your howling wolf mood arises, you're welcome to chase me from room to room." She gave Dan a bear hug along with a tongue  dancing passionate kiss. "Although, instead of chasing me, I'd prefer you just pick me up, carry me to our bed, tear off my clothes, and make fervent love to me."

          "That's the best deal ever," voiced Dan. "Besides, I'm getting too old to chase after my sexual conquest."

          Ivy and Jeffery ran into the kitchen.

          "Dad, Mom, I love my bedroom," Ivy excitedly announced. "I have my own bathroom. Every bedroom in this house has a private bath with clear class shower doors."

          "Yeah," chimed Jeffery, "I too have my own bathroom, which means never again will I have to wait over an hour while queen bee Sis admires her face in the mirror."

          "Hey, brain-dead, having my own bathroom means I'll never again have to enter a bathroom directly after you squeezed out a giant stink creature from your black lagoon butt h***."

          "Ivy, that's sickening!" snapped Cathy.

          "You kids better stop tormenting each other before the both of you are grounded in your new rooms for a whole month," voiced Dan, "and the neat thing about having your own bathrooms…means your mother and I will only see your sad little faces at meal times." 

          During the next few weeks, the Tate family was busy unpacking, organizing, and settling in their new house that's located at the end of Baskin Lane.

          Dan setup his architectural drafting office with his high powered computer and two thirty-two inch LCD monitors. He hung pictures on the walls of his favorite modern high-rises he designed. Two buildings in Boston, one in New York City, one in Chicago, and one in Houston. He lined his bookcases with basic drafting books, drafting software, and architectural engineering books.

          Cathy has been busy in her new kitchen. Washing and lining the cabinet shelves, unpacking a multitude of boxes, and making trips to the nearest store to stock up on food.

          Ivy and Jeffery are slowly arranging their rooms between summer school vacation fun times of Internet surfing, Facebook chatting, playing video games, and watching movies.    

          Cobb focused his number seventeen camera so he can receive a clearer view of fifteen year old Ivy. She's in her bedroom, more than half naked, searching through her bureau drawers. Oh yes, she's a hot little chickadee that's just ripe enough to be plucked, he excitedly thought. I love her long blond hair, her dark blue trophy eyeballs, and her pale white suit of skin. When the time of sacrifice arrives, I'm going to enjoy killing her with a long blade that'll seductively penetrate her sexy young body. The blade needs to be thin and slender…so she'll bleed out slowly, thus offering my inner entity and I hours of rapturous pleasure.   

          Cobb switched from camera to camera, anxiously searching for Cathy. He found her as she stepped out of the shower. His heart rate increased while he stared at her mature body. A flawless older version of Ivy's sexy body. He imagined himself sexually having his way with her dead body. He can smell her sweet blood oozing from numerous sacrificial wounds, and the thought of smearing her warm blood on his naked body is arousing his manhood. He wanted to react, but it wouldn't be the real thing, so he switched to the camera in Jeffery's bedroom. The dog lying on Jeffery's bed instantly angered him. I need to kill the little mutt before it detects me prowling around at night, he thought. His two past attempts to kill the dog failed because it's always sleeping next to Jeffery. Damn Mr. Sparks and Jeffery are connected like Siamese twins.

          In eagerness there might be another evening peepshow of Dan and Cathy having sex, Cobb grabbed a beer out his refrigerator. To help him remember his past pleasures of murder, he likes to store his cans of beer just below his trophy shelf. Rows of clear glass jelly jars containing eyeballs, ears, nipples, and genital components from his past family tenants. He can match a family member's name to each gouged out, sliced off, or bit off trophy. He picked up one of his trophy jars and happily stared at the two sets of eyeballs belonging to the pretty Lawrence twins. The rest of the twin's body parts are stored in sewerage tank number two. When Cobb built the house, he buried four twelve hundred gallon sewerage tanks in the back yard, each a perfect mass gravesite for hiding the his victim's remains.

          Dan took a sip of his morning coffee.

          "Here's your pancakes."

          "Thanks, love."

          "Dan, are you planning to work all day?"

          "Why are you asking?"

          "I need to go shopping in Dallas and I was wondering if you want to go with me?"

          "Maybe," replied Dan. "I was thinking of only working a half day so I can mow the lawn. What are you planning to buy?"

          "New panties for Ivy and me," answered Cathy. "I swear our washing machine has been eating them. It seems like every other day we're missing a pair panties, and now I'm missing the sexy two piece nightgown I wore for you the other night."

          "The sheer rose colored one I bought for you last Valentine's Day  from Victoria's Secret?"

          "Yeah, that one."

          Dan shook his head. "It was my favorite one, plus it cost me an arm and leg."

          "I don't understand why these unique articles of clothing are disappearing."

          "Maybe our washing machine is a pervert?"

          "No, I'm serious, Dan. I didn't want to say anything because I know how happy you are about finding this place, but  this house gives me the willies."

          "What do you mean?"

          "Ever since we moved in the small hairs on the back of my neck have been standing straight up. I've been having an endless feeling there's an evil presence always watching me. Strange things keep happening. Last week, twice I woke up to find the kitchen faucet running at full force, and I know my personal belongings are slightly being moved from where I placed them. Plus I think someone besides us has been messing around with our food. I can sense there's something wrong with this house."

          Dan mockingly chuckled. "Are you now claiming to have psychic powers like your mother?"

          "Before my mother lost her life in the line of duty, she used her psychic abilities to help solve many crimes for the Boston Police Department. So like her, maybe I am developing some psychic abilities within the midstream of my life. The other night I woke up with a frightening feeling that somebody had been in our bedroom, watching us sleep."

          "Would you feel better if I have all locks changed?" asked Dan.

          "I don't think changing the locks is going to settle my mind. I keep sensing an evil presence within the house, as if it's connected to the house."

          "Dear, it sounds like you're describing the Amityville horror house, and you know I don't believe in ghosts, demons, or portals to hell."

          "I know there's a physical presence of evil in this house!" she snapped.

          "Okay…okay, I'll keep an eye out for the boogeyman. What time are you leaving to go shopping?"

          "Within a few hours. I want to be back before the kids get home from their first day of school."

          "I do need to pick up some ink pen cartridges for my drafting printer, so I'll go with you, and then I'll mow the yard when we return."

          "Okay…I'll let you know when I'm ready to leave."

          Cathy hurriedly cleaned up the kitchen, and then she ran out to the garage to search through seven tall stacks of boxes, each marked storage. After foraging through nine boxes, she finally found a small gray metal case containing her mother's service revolver. A short barrel, Smith & Wesson three fifty-seven revolver. She removed the gun from the case and loaded it. Before she married Dan, her dream was to follow her mother's footsteps and become a homicide detective, but after becoming pregnant, it was the fear of possibly being killed in the line of duty that changed her mind. Like what bitterly happened to her, she didn't want to leave her child motherless. The day her father picked her up early from school to tell her mom had been killed, was the worst day of her life. In her nightmares, she's relieved that terrible day over and over again, as if it’s a haunting poltergeist. Cathy hid the gun under her blouse and carried it to her bedroom, where she placed it under some magazines in the drawer of her bedside table.

          Cobb nervously paced back and forth within the confines of his secret room. He needs more time before sacrificing the Tate family to his inner entity, but after listening to Dan and Cathy's early morning conversation, he's figuring his time is running out. He's bewildered and angry because Cathy has somehow sensed his presence in the house. For the past three months, he's been searching for an opportunity to kill Mr. Sparks, but instead of the dog, his biggest risk of being discovered is Cathy's supposedly psychic powers.    

          I require more time to live with my victims, Cobb angrily thought as he continued to pace. I haven't learned enough about each family member. I need a few more months to ghostly torment them, smell the sweetness of their dirty clothing, taste their garbage, and secretly bond with them by adding more drops of my blood to their food. None of my past twenty-nine sacrifices has ever been this close of knowing about my presence.

          Cobb stopped pacing and dropped to his knees, and then he cradled his head in his hands. "Yes, I can hear you," he voiced aloud, as if he's David Berkowitz talking to the demon who possesses his neighbor's dog. "Are you sure it'll be Okay? Yes, I understand, and I will fulfill your lustful hunger. As always, I am your loyal servant for providing you with terrified human essence. Tonight, their sugary blood will flow, their fear will feed your appetite, and their electrical essence will slowly be released while they bleed out."

          He stood up and grabbed two pairs of Cathy's dirty underwear. In hopes of calming himself down, he stuffed the two silky pink panties into his Mr. Coffee brew basket, and then he added water to make himself a refreshing hot cup of Cathy of essence tea.   

          After returning from Dallas and having an early supper with his family, Dan mounted his riding lawnmower and began to mow the lawn. His mind wondered back to his weird breakfast conversation with Cathy. Like her mother, maybe she has developed psychic abilities. He remembered reading some of the Boston Globe news articles Cathy keeps in an old scrapbook. Somehow, her mother was responsible for mysteriously solved many police cases. He recalled one case where Kathy's mother found a little kidnapped girl in an abandoned office building. She was bound and locked in a utility closet. The kidnapper had been killed while attempting to collect his money, and if the girl had not been found, she would've died.

          In preparation to steal Dan's daylight before he can complete all his mowing, the sun is beginning to sink over the edge of the earth. While wondering if there could be some truth to what Cathy has been sensing in her mind, Dan stopped the lawnmower and curiously gazed at the architectural features of his new house. A few minutes passed by, and then he noticed something proportionally odd. The house appears to be larger on the outside than the inside, and he realized the displacement of the size is on the second floor. The offset structure of the house is obscure, and he figured no one would notice it if they weren't an architectural drafter like him. Suddenly, it him, and realized there has to be a hidden room on the second floor. In fearful panic, he jumped off the lawnmower and ran toward the house. He rushed into the front entrance alcove and screamed, "Cathy, where are you?"

          "I'm upstairs in our bedroom," she loudly replied.

          Dan ran up the stairs, twelve feet along the hallway, and then he entered the bedroom to see Cathy comfortably laying on the bed, reading her electronic book. "Honey, we need to fetch the kids and leave this house right now!"

          "Why?" Cathy asked while facially expressing curiosity mixed with fear.

          "I have no time to explain. We need to go!" As Dan turned to fetch his kids, Cathy pulled open the drawer and grabbed her mother's gun. Just as Dan was about to pass through the doorway, Cobb punched him in the face, hard enough to knock him backwards, and Dan lost his balance, landing hard on the carpeted floor.

          Cobb took a few steps into the bedroom, and then he stopped upon noticing the gun Cathy is pointing him.

          "Don't move," yelled Cathy. "I know how to use this gun! Dan, are you alright?"

          "I'll live." Feeling groggy, he sat up to get a good look at the intruder who attacked him. "Are the kids in their rooms?"

          "Yes, I checked on them not too long ago. Ivy is listening to music, and Jeffrey is watching a movie."

          "Hey, this isn't fair," whined Cobb. "You're not supposed to have a gun. I would've found it and rendered it useless. Personally, I don't like guns. I prefer the intimacy of using a razor sharp knife."

          "Shut up you crazy son of a b****!" screamed Cathy. "Dan, call the police!"

          "My cell phone is my office," he replied while blood dripped from the corners of his mouth.

          "I've already confiscated your cell phones," said Cobb along with a sly grin. "As I see it, your three choices are to shoot me, let me go, or you could attempt to tie me up."

          "Cathy, this lunatic is Cobb Babcock, the man who rented me this house," said Dan. "I think he's been living in a  secret room up here on the second floor, at the far end of the house, over the kitchen. There must be a hidden microphone here in our bedroom, and this crazy bastard must've heard me when I said we need leave. That's why he attacked me."

          "You're not supposed to leave," muttered Cobb. "Leaving will displease my  inner entity."

          "I told you to keep your mouth shut!" cried Cathy.

          "What are you going to do about it? I don't think you're going to kill me, or you would've done it already."

          "Dan, Cobb is spooking me. You need to go find something to tie him up with," demanded Cathy.

          "You heard him. He likes knives, which means he probably has one or more in his pockets."

          "Cobb, raise your hands straight up over your head so my husband can frisk you."

          "No!" He defiantly shook his head.

          "I will shoot you!"

          "No one is allowed to touch my sacred knife." He laughed for a moment. "What we have here is a stalemate. You're not going to shot me, and I'm not going to allow Dan to take away my knife."

          "Dan, what are we going to do?"

          "I don't know. You're the one with a gun. I don't think you have any other option but to shoot him."

          "Okay, I'll drop my knife to the floor."

          "Do it slowly," demanded Cathy.

          As Cobb gradually reached into his left pants pocket, he swiftly came up with his right hand, pulling a knife out from behind his upper back, and then he tossed it at Cathy. She had sensed the danger and rapidly jerked to the right. The long blade nicked her left ear and stuck into the hardwood head board. Cathy aimed and fired as Cobb reached for another knife. The bullet entered his forehead and exited along with bloody bits and pieces of his skull and brain matter. Cobb's mouth dropped open, and to their surprised horror, a purple snake-like head appeared. Its large reddish orange eyes staring at them. As the ugly creature frantically wiggled out of Cobb's over stretched mouth, it loudly screeched, sounding similar to a cat being painfully tortured.

          "Cathy, shoot the damn creature!" yelled Dan.

          She rapidly fired four rounds, each bullet squarely hitting Cobb's entity.

          Cobb finally toppled over backwards, landing flat on his back between the door frames. Nearly a foot of the dead creature is hanging out of his bloody mouth.

          Ivy frantically ran across the hall into Jeffery's room to find him hiding under his bed. She slid under the bed next to him and whispered, "I think those were gun shots."

          "No s***, Sis, I wouldn't be hiding under my bed if I thought they were balloons popping."

          "I'm scared."

          "Me too!"

          The two rival siblings hugged.

          "Dan, I've seen too many horror movies where they get back up!" Cathy voiced while she rolled off the bed and ran over to Cobb's body, and then she fired her last two rounds. One in his neck, and the other into his heart. "What the hell is this ugly creature?"

          "Cobb did say he has an inner entity. From the creature's bizarre appearance, I'd say it's not from our earth!"

The End!

© September 2011