Something In The Back. [Whipsfield]

It had been a hell of a few weeks in the town of Whipsfield. The disappearance of golden boy Jerome Jones, That fire at the Pendersons, The murder at the Pump N Dump. Those two psychopaths at that sleepover. Abby could safely say it was the most excitement the town had ever seen. And it didn't stop there either.

Reports of bodies found and disappearances in nearby Strapsfield had made their way to the sister town. If people weren't panicking, then they were pretending there was nothing wrong at all. And any step out of the line for Everything Is Fine, Really. was met with excessive force.

She was suspended for vandalizing the school lockers. Evidently they didn’t want to be reminded Jerome Jones was still missing. It would cost to get “Still Looking For Jerome?” scrubbed away. She pinched the money from her mom’s purse.

Her father barely noticed anymore. Not since Patty’s accident. If that’s what it could be called, her father would go to work early in the morning and come home late at night. He would say maybe two or three words to Abby on a good day and then spend what remained of the evening in the garden shed. Sometimes late at night, she would hear the stairs creaking as he made his way to bed.

Often, he went off to see Gabby. Kim had seen them together going back from her gran’s, Close together and too much for comfort. He pretended the calls were from work and that his long disappearances were merely his way of coping with her sister's death. He thought Abby was daft. Like she hadn't heard the rumors of this tiny town and pieced it together. When he wasn’t with his mistress, he’d be in that damn shed.

Those nights were the worst nights.

It was strange because she didn't have to sit up worrying about him or when he was coming home. [She doubted her mother noticed or cared. The day after the funeral, she had a box filled with Patty’s photos and buried it in the front garden. Her father only interjected to request that she not go into the back.] but every time she looked out of the window and saw the tiny shed light was on, she just felt a sense of foreboding and dread and even a little envy. He would rather mess about than interact with his remaining child.

Well, Abby had had enough. They could either keep their eyes shut and stumble around the obvious or maybe they could actually listen for once. Or maybe she would be told to keep her mouth shut. At least the difference would be something.

Should she go out at this time? probably not. the story about Gabby Dereham being scared in her home might be bogus but it was still spine chilling in it's own way. Nowadays most people were afraid to leave the house at night. The past month had only strengthened that resolve and normally Abby agreed with them. But her frustration had built to a crescendo of potential bad choices and in this case, the worst was her parents shunning more than they already did.

Her mouth was dry and sour to the tongue but she ignored her parched throat as she tiptoed down the stairs, past Mom’s door [the woman wasn’t snoring but she didn’t stir as Abby passed, awake but ignoring her it seemed], through the kitchen [the thought of what had happened to Jerome Jones crossed her mind and made her shiver] and to the backdoor, into the garden which was near pitch black save for the glow of the moon. The shed stood. a square, 10 foot, rickety, old, wooden shack her father loved more than his own family. in the night it looked like a prison block, Or an abandoned house with no windows and only the faintest hint of movement inside. She could just make out her shadow against the grass, Taller and spindlier than Abby herself was. She thought about the Shadow Man stories and fought the urge to run back upstairs and hide under the covers.

She knew it was stupid, but she closed the door behind her all the same. Just to stop herself from following through on that fear.

Her heart thudded like running footsteps as she made her way step by step to the old shed right at the back of the yard. She could barely make out the shed light through the cracks in the wood but she couldn’t hear any voices. Maybe he wasn’t with Gabby tonight.

She was only a few feet away when she heard it. A rattling sound, faint footsteps, and this horrible rasping that chilled her to the core. What was he doing in there? The back door to the shed [he insisted there would be two in case of a fire hazard] was slightly ajar and she could hear better now. That strange sound...

The sounds of a saw came from inside but the rasping and rattling did not stop. Abby made to knock on the door but the sound of the saw cut off…and she heard it again with a cold realization tricking down her back.

That noise…that rasping….It was coming from right behind her.

Before the scream failed to leave her mouth, she already wished she had never investigated what her father had been up to in the shed every night.

The figure before her….

Entire strips of skin were missing from the body, chunks out of its nose, the lips dripping, adding to the dripping sound onto the grass as the blood and pus rolled off its body. The eyes were still in their sockets, focused directly on her, the snarling noise they made upon seeing her. The remains of what seemed to be hair on its head, the rag covering the private area, a loincloth? But the worst part...was she knew that face.

Jerome 

He lunged for her.