It Can Happen

By: Mollie Caliri

Ok, bare with me, I want you to close your mind and shut out everything else, ok? Just stare at this screen, read these words and imagine with me. Think of the scariest, most horrifying, bone chilling and blood-curdling atmosphere. Yes let the fog and mist of terror seep in, let your worst fears creep in around you. Let your best friends die, let your family scream, let the monsters feed. Let hell break loose.

I have this feeling you made everything dark and foggy, full moon, wolves howling, demons with long claws and poison stained fangs gnawing on the marrow of your dearest friends bones. It's fall, you're in your dark empty house, or a graveyard or a forest, and maybe its even Halloween. Blood, slime, gore, monsters of the darkest and deepest pits of hell. Yeah you're the traditional idiot, you don't know real fear. And if you do know real terror, then boy you'll get a good laugh with this story, or so I hope. It's the story of what could happen, anytime, anywhere, right now, right behind you, as your reading this sentence. Or maybe it won't happen to you, but the whole mind twisting and hair-raising fact, is that, it could…

Ever get that prickle on your back, like death is stroking you, just giving you the friendly reminder that you will die, eventually. Or maybe that pillow you put on the couch turns up on the floor when you get back. Or you see something out of the back of your eye, like a shadowy stalker, pass you and vanish. Or the first moments of darkness, when you flick off the lights in your room, scare you because for a millisecond you can't see anything. Hell maybe you even get the feeling your being watched, by something, somewhere, anywhere, everywhere.

But who is it? Who is watching you? Is it that kid that sits in the corner of class, that doesn't talk to anyone, except their closest friends. Is it that neighbor that you barely ever see? Perhaps it's that kid you turned down a date with, or your secret stalker. Whoever it is, it's somebody, and they're watching, you, right now. The best part, it could be at anytime, maybe you're reading this and it's 10 at night, or 7 in the morning or lunchtime. Doesn't matter, death doesn't need an invite, and hell doesn't give a damn.

So you're probably wondering, how the hell is this a story? Well up until now it hasn't been, but now it's time for you to hear about one kid, who didn't heed my warnings, who pushed the limits to much and who raised unholy hell, literally.

His name was Shawn and he was quite the young man. Handsome, smart, a senior in high school, and what do you know, he played football. He was the all-American teenage boy. Well, you'd think. But Shawn had an obsession with trying anything and everything, he had no limits. And no, don't take that in the wrong way, I don't mean like when he got drunk at parties with a bunch of girls. I mean dangerous dumb ass stunts. Shawn was the kid who tied firecrackers to his bikes to make them go faster, the one that fed his fish and mice caffeine to see what they did. He jumped off bridges into freezing icy water; he ran through forests covered in honey, he trampolined into pools, you name it. But Shawn was also interested in scary creepy stories. And one night he decided to read one of mine, an old one, a very old one. And it had the same warning you read in the last paragraphs. But he closed the page before he finished the story, and you never stop reading my stories till your done! They aren't that long… and believe me, I wouldn't piss me off…ever. Oh ya, I do believe I forgot to add that little tidbit. If you dare stop reading this story, I promise you, your life won't be as cushy as it is now, I have terrible mood swings, and your blood might look just too sweet on my knife for me to resist. Anyways… Shawn… Shawn didn't care, and so I gave him a little gift, her name was Christine.

Christine was a very nice girl, she played soccer and softball and was one of those perfect high school girls. She wasn't a dumb stick like those cheerleaders, or a gothic creepo with their twenty layers of black clothes during the summer. She was just a high school senior that wanted a regular life. And Shawn fell for her like a person pushed off a rooftop. But Christine was my own personal toy, and a servant to my oh so devious plans. But she hardly needed my influence, ha, she was as twisted as they came. But soon she and he were a worthless duo of lovebirds, drooling over each other's existence. Feeling as though each kiss would be their last and must last forever. But gladly Christine wasn't all gone, the puppy love of teenagers was enough to tear through her vicious need to see blood shed. And so one night, when the parents were away, the kids did play.

Shawn scampered happily through the dark, moist nighttime air on his way over to Christine's, as she waited for him, herself quite happy, as he came to the door. They shared a passionate kiss, which caused Christine's leg to curl up and stay that wait until they were done. As Shawn backed off and grinned, heading downstairs at his own whim he knew perhaps tonight was the night he'd get lucky. If only he had known just how unlucky the night would be.

Chrisitine followed him, her deep mahogany-brown colored her bouncing with every step. She got down to the basement, fully furnished with everything a teenager could ever want. "Want a drink dear?" she asked sweetly of her boyfriend. Shawn turned his head and nodded.

"Yes please darling." He politely responded Christine smiled at him but under her fake visage she was grinning like a beast. Christine opened the fridge and leaned down to grab two colas. Shawn, though, was more interested in the sheik, smooth legs becoming revealed as Christine's mini skirt moved up when she leaned over. Men, despicable creatures they are. Christine turned, shut the fridge door with her foot and gave Shawn a cola, sitting down next to him on the couch where they snuggled and sipped their drinks for a good ten minutes.

Finally Shawn moved his hand to play with Christine's hair and said, "So darling, what exactly did you have planned for tonight?" Christine smiled and kissed him on the nose sweetly.

"Well I figured since you like scary stories so much we could read one, then we could cuddle and hug so I wouldn't be scared anymore?" Christine was playing Shawn like a guitar, gently strumming each string, getting closer to finishing the song and Shawn's life. Shawn's crystal blue eyes glimmered and widened, now very excited. Christine handed him a leather bound story that had the air of a demonic children's book. He ran his hands over the old leather and opened the story.

"Ok let's see what do we have hear. 'It Can Happen' hmmm sounds good… no author though, that's weird." Christine snuggled so close to Shawn as he assumed his reading pose that she fell behind him, so Shawn could longer see the lovely girl.

"It Can Happen" Shawn turned the page, noting there was only a sentence per page, for the pages were covered with sickly drawings of hellish scenes. "Anything Can Happen", "Anytime, Any Place", "Demons May Appear", "And Tear Off Your Face", "But It's What Happens When Your Unaware", "That Gives Humans A Terrible Scare", "If Perhaps You Were Reading This Story", "And You Felt A Cold Grip Upon Your Neck", "A Knife Lay On Your Skin, Rusty and Gory", "The Hand Of A Lover, Dragging You To Heck", "She's Smiling At You Right Now", "Turn Around You Blatant Fool", "She's Going To Kill You", "Drown You In A Bloody Pool", "Love's Not All It Seems", "Nightmares Come From Dreams". Shawn closed the book, a shudder traveling down his spine. "Christine?"

Shawn turned around, Christine nowhere to be found. "Ok very funny, you got me, I'm spooked, now where the fuck are you?" Shawn stood up, backing into the wall like a terrified pup. He stood there five minutes, his body shaking in terror. Soon he walked forward, scouring the dimly lit basement. "Looking for me dear?" Christine smiled behind him. Shawn shot around almost falling over, "Gah Christine you scared me, where the hell were you?"

"Oh I'm sorry I had to go to the kitchen." Shawn sighed at this response, "Next time tell me ok? I thought that damn story was coming true." Christine laughed, not a normal laugh though, a wicked, sadistic giggle. And with that laughed she pounced on Shawn, bringing him down to the couch. "Oh you are an idiot, of course the story is coming true, I wrote it. I've been waiting for you, waiting to kill you, for so long." Shawn tried to squirm away, but her inhuman death grip was too much for even a football jock to handle. Shawn pleaded, tears welling up in his eyes. "You can't be serious… So why not just attack me right when I finished reading, why go to the fucking kitchen first? Cookies before killing?"

Christine grinned and took her hand out from behind her back, "No you idiot, I had to get the knives…" A long, curved and gleaming carving knife appeared in the line of sight of Shawn, she had hidden the blades behind her, tucked into her skirt, like a psycho. And with that Christine began to play with her victim, running the sharp edge of the knife along Shawn's lips, drawing a tiny line of blood. Her other hand ran over the side of his face, contrasting love to hate. "Christine what did I do? Why must you do this to me? I love you!" Ignoring his comments, she laid the knife between Shawn's soft lips as his eyes widened in fear and he continued to struggle, to no avail. Christine slit open Shawn's mouth like she was cutting butter, his rich blood gushing over his face and onto the soft plush couch. Christine giggled again as Shawn writhed in pain.

"Hehe one last kiss baby?" Christine lay her lips on the flaps of skin that were once his lips, sucking hard to taste the blood of her victim, relishing how sweet it was and how tender his jaw's muscles felt as they pulsed, sending blood spurting out left and right. She was lying on top of now, but he was losing strength and starting to weaken. Christine straddled Shawn, holding his head, and still kissing the boy like a maniac. Shawn was crying viciously, her thighs pressing into his strong hips. She held the knife above Shawn's right shoulder, and drove it into the skin, tearing muscles and chipping bone while Shawn could only silently mourn the loss of his throwing arm. She twisted the knife around and wiggled it in and out. You could hear Shawn's bones crack and become displaced; his right arm a useless abnormality now, a limp lump of flesh.

Christine withdrew the knife and tossed it to the ground, her hand reaching behind her again, now withdrawing a large meat cleaver. Shawn growled and screamed, well it really only sounded like guttural word upchuck since his mouth was no longer able to form words. She began chopping into his chest, working her way down to his legs, nicking him everywhere, making him a tapestry of wounds and scars. But when she got off of him, his strength surged and he rolled off the couch, crawling away using his left arm and what was left of his legs. Christine watched as his blood trickled and stained the carpet, crawling away like a wounded animal from a trap. Her blood was hot and rushing, driven by a blood crazy lust to kill. She followed him, circling him slowly as he groaned, moaned and slowly started to fade. "Oh Shawn you're a messy boy now aren't you? Ruining my carpets, guess you'll have to be punished."

She walked away, placing the cleaver on a desk, getting out a pair of stainless steel scissors. Shawn turned and looked at what she was doing… knowing whatever happened next, it would hurt like hell.

Christine kicked Shawn and flipped him over so he was face up, and straddled him again. Without a word she snipped the air and them rammed the open scissors over his ear and started cutting and slicing, until it the ear was hanging on by mere threads of skin and sinew, where upon she bite into the ear and tore it off with a shake of her jaws, spitting it out and tossing it to the side. Snarling and giggling wildly she went to the other ear and did the same thing, Shawn howling in pain with a raspy tone. He was near death, he knew it, but also knew Christine wasn't done yet. When that ear was torn off, Christine picked up Shawn's good arm, eyeing his fingers like a hungry lion. "Snip Snip" she mimicked and began to slowly and meticulously cut off Shawn's finger, his veins snapping and spurting, his nerves sparking his body with stimulations of horrid pain. The pinky finger was last to go and Christine began to chew on it like it was candy, slurping madly at the blood and puss dribbling out.

Shawn thought to himself as he began to blink slowly, "Is she done now, what else could she do?" Christine giggled as if she could read his thoughts, "What else can I do now? Well I suppose I need something soft and chewy to wash down your bony fingers." Christine drew a spoon from behind her, the last of her hidden arsenal. She kissed him on the forehead and waved at him sarcastically. "Buh bye now sweetheart." Shoving her arm forward she thrust the spoon into Shawn's eye socket, and scooped out his eye, plopping it in her mouth like a gumball. As she chewed and crunched on the soft jelly filled eye, she did the same to the other eye and Shawn faded completely, dying beneath her twisted rule.

She smiled; pieces of skin and jelly seeping from her mouth as she wiped her lips with a bloody hand. "I like boys better when they're dead anyways…" Christine smirked sickly as she kissed his cold lips one last time, before proceeding to drag his body to her bedroom.

And it is here I shall stop with this story, for noone appreciates good necrophilia anymore and I rather not go into the details of how it works, ask your mom if you really care that much. Also if you do care that much, you're sick and twisted, call me, I'll hook you up with some sap that needs to learn a lesson.

Anyways reader, I hope you learned something today; that you're never safe, because someone is always watching you. Right now… As you are reading this, listening to this gruesome story, somebody is watching you, laughing, giggling even, because they know you're clueless to it. But don't turn around; they only tend to pounce when you turn to face them. Ah nope, don't do it, don't turn around, I know you want to but don't do it. Remember don't turn around; you don't want to see just how horrible your fate will end up. Oh and by the way, "Boo!"

~Satan