Horror Stories: A Macabre Collection Read Online Free PDF Page A

and ear
scratching. Once they allowed him entrance to the house he handed
out treats—little bits of rawhide, which they would take to their
own parts of the home to enjoy in private. Carter tossed his keys
aside and glanced down at the phone in hopes of seeing a
message—there was none.
    He grabbed a can of Budweiser from the fridge
and sat his ass into the same spot on the couch where he always
sat. He dug out the remote from within the couch and turned on the
television. He skimmed the channels briefly but stopped when he
landed on an episode of COPS. He sipped his beer and was soon
surrounded on all sides by his fuzzy roommates. He had a few more
beers and a few more episodes of COPS before he decided to get to
sleep early.
    After he was cozy under his blankets he could
hear squirrels fighting on the rooftop. Their screeching and
skittering was enough to keep him from sleep and put the dogs on
edge. He shrugged it off, but the noises continued throughout the
night. He woke several times to odd animal noises. Carter even
walked over to the window to see what the hell was going on out
there but it was too dark to tell.
    Early in the morning, after a night of the
worst kind of sleeping, the dogs began to bark wildly at the
creatures outside. Now that the sun was coming up the dogs could
see the culprits. Carter walked over to the window once again,
rubbing his eyelids apologetically. He pulled open the curtains and
could feel the heat trying to get inside already. After his eyes
adjusted to the light, he could make out hundreds of birds in the
trees and atop the nearby homes. Squirrels, chipmunks, and even a
few rabbits could be seen moving about sporadically. Carter noticed
there was something unnatural about the movements the animals made.
And the amount of birds was just downright bizarre—they weren’t
even making any noise, all lined up as quiet as could be.
    Carter’s stomach twisted and he felt
nauseous. He could feel something wasn’t right. He sat down and
turned on the television—white noise. He went into the other room
and turned on the radio. As he did so, something smacked into the
window of that room. He ran over to the window and stared into the
mangled face of a bat with tattered wings. It had congealed blood
all over itself, and its wings were not fit for flight—yet it
managed to cling to the sill and keep itself up. Carter gasped and
jumped back, nearly stumbling over his own feet. The dogs rushed
past him and began jumping and barking at the grotesque-looking
bat. Rabies came to the forefront of Carter’s mind. Bats didn’t fly
around in broad daylight. Least not the bats around here, his mind
whirled—the bat had bites, and was covered in blood—it had to be
rabid.
    Before his mind could run around with any
other thoughts, several birds swooped down to join the bat on the
windowsill. They sat unnaturally, their feathers covered in blood.
Some of them had cracked beaks and missing eyes. One was even
missing most of its leg. The dogs continued to bark, and more birds
gathered at the window. One began to peck at the glass. Then
another, and another did the same. TIK TIK TIK, the glass began to
splinter and chip.
    Carter called out to the dogs, and as the
glass began to splinter more he screamed for them. They ignored
him, focusing on the birds and lonesome bat that were in the
process of breaking through the glass and flying in. Carter ran to
the dogs, grabbing Lucky and Bee-bo by their collars while calling
for Rusty. He barely managed to pull the two large dogs out of the
room. As Rusty begrudgingly followed, the glass finally gave way.
The sound of tattered wings and breaking glass flooded the room.
Carter slammed the door shut. The radio broadcast was nothing more
than unheard background noise. Aside from what he’d just
experienced, Carter knew nothing of what was going on. He could
hear the room swell with the sound of flight. He noticed they made
no other noise, no screeching or