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Nocturnal Daydreams: Two Tales of Terror
Nocturnal Daydreams: Two Tales of Terror
Nocturnal Daydreams: Two Tales of Terror
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Nocturnal Daydreams: Two Tales of Terror

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Welcome to Nocturnal Daydreams, a place where reality blends with tension-filled horror in a pair of white-knuckle, short fiction novellas.
First, enter the quiet suburban streets of Corcheta, where a group of friends awaken to find their once cozy Americana neighborhood overtaken by a blood-thirsty, malevolent evil that relentlessly searches for a way into their home, and for its next meal in The Wild Rabbits Of Corcheta.
Then, fear takes to the mountains as you journey through a foreboding forest with four young men on a team-building camping excursion that soon turns into a blood-soaked weekend of survival, as they realize something nightmarish is stalking their every move in Up The Rebel Yell.
When it comes to terror and dread, Nocturnal Daydreams promises many sleepless nights ahead.
LanguageEnglish
PublisherBookBaby
Release dateOct 20, 2017
ISBN9781543915778
Nocturnal Daydreams: Two Tales of Terror

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    Nocturnal Daydreams - M.B. Elkins

    This book is a work of fiction. Any references to historical events, real people or real places are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and events are products of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or places or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

    Copyright © 2017 by M.B. Elkins

    The Wild Rabbits Of Corcheta Copyright © 2016 by M.B. Elkins

    Up The Rebel Yell Copyright © 2016 by M.B. Elkins

    All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portion thereof in any form whatsoever.

    Print ISBN: 978-1-54391-576-1

    eBook ISBN: 978-1-54391-577-8

    Contents

    THE WILD RABBITS OF CORCHETA

    UP THE REBEL YELL

    I would like to give a special thanks to photographer Jenevieve Eugenia for her keen eye and bringing these characters to life. My gratitude goes out to the various family members, colleagues, and friends who viewed early drafts of these stories and shared their opinions. And most importantly, I would like to thank the close friends in my life who are portrayed as the characters within the text. They are the inspiration, and even though some truly horrific things may happen to them in the pages ahead, I’m glad they know it’s all in good fun.

    Preface

    I always found something inherently terrifying with the idea of a safe place like one’s suburban neighborhood transforming into a landscape of foreboding danger. The concept for this story originated from a dream my younger brother shared with me back when we were in high school. I was intrigued by the nightmare he related, but I decided to shelf the idea at the time.

    It wasn’t until recently when vacationing on the coast of British Columbia that the concept came barreling back into my consciousness. I had originally intended to write a completely different type of yarn during that summer month, one involving aquatic lifeforms dining on the local denizens of a sleepy fishing village. And even though most of those days were spent roaming the beaches of a similar seaside hamlet, my mind couldn’t escape the image of that hot, sun blasted American neighborhood, the kids who lived there, and how one street turned into a bloody battleground.

    -M.B. Elkins

    Shut ‘em down! Don’t you slack!

    Intercept that Quarterback!

    Annihilation, Domination!

    We’re the Rabbits, Football nation!

    - Corcheta High School Football Anthem

    For bruther

    1

    It was noon by the time Six-Pack’s body stopped twitching. Pools of blood situated themselves around the lifeless boy like a sticky tapestry on the asphalt.

    Lilly Reddecker stood silent; staring out the bay window as those pools of blood slowly grew on the pavement in front of her house. She watched the dark red stream travel to the bottom of the street sign where it slowly collected. Her eyes traveled up the pole where she observed a splash of blood over the sign Mayflower Drive. The verse April showers bring May flowers danced in her head. Then she quickly shot back to a recent memory of Six-Pack smiling at her by the lockers in the English hall at school. It’s strange she thought, how random images get etched in your brain. Six-Pack is dead, and now the only memory that registered is that instant when he first smiled at her. That was the one moment she felt he understood her, that the stereotypical jock actually had feelings. The image hung in her mind, and for a few seconds she felt safe and happy again. The clock in the dining room struck twelve, and reality hurtled back.

    Stop looking at him.

    She could see Jackson’s reflection in the glass standing behind her with the shotgun in hand, yet she didn’t turn. Jonathan Jackson slowly stepped next to the petite seventeen-year-old that had been frozen at the window like a department store mannequin. He tried not to look at the grizzly remains of his friend outside. Instead, his eyes rolled over to Lilly’s shoulders and neck, the yellow headphones that hugged her skin, her long blonde hair, and the three piercings on her ear. He admired everything about her, always had since their sophomore year together.

    Lilly stared at the corpse on the street, some fifteen yards away from the pane of glass she stood behind, and acknowledged the gaping wound on Six-Pack’s jugular. The lacerations on the boy’s neck were so deep that if somebody had picked the body off the asphalt, what little skin and sinew that was still attached to his head would have easily ripped away.

    How big was the thing that did that to him?

    Jackson gazed at her then hesitantly glanced at the street responding, I didn’t see it happen. None of us did.

    His head … she whispered. His head is almost…

    Lilly, please, he closed his eyes. She turned and stared at him. This is a face she had known for years. With his jet-black hair and handsome features, she would usually find a smile on his face, mostly when he looked at her. He always showed confidence, especially on the football field. But today, all she found on his face was fear and uncertainty. He opened his eyes to find her finally looking back at him. It was in those eyes that she noticed concern and doubt rising inside. She gently reached out and slid her hand up his arm. He was warm, but she was cold to the touch. He stepped forward, laid the gun on the floor and wrapped the girl in his arms. They embraced each other for a number of minutes. Splashes of the noon sunlight hit both of them from the window. He felt the warmth on his back as he held her tight. He had hoped this would make her feel better, but she slowly began to tremble and he could hear her cry. Even in the arms of the boy she thought she loved, there was no safety.

    I wanna go back …

    Back? he questioned.

    Back to yesterday … before all of this, Lilly added.

    Jackson reflected on yesterday and everything that came with it. Yesterday, Corcheta was a normal town with normal people. It was the only thing he knew since birth. Eighteen happy years tucked away in Americana, hometown Corcheta would make anyone feel safe. Yesterday was nice; before the blood moon, before comet C3 Rea passed between the earth and the moon, before the monsters came, before the world turned to shit. He stared out the window, beyond Mayflower Drive, to the countless rows of houses inhabiting their endless suburbia. It would have been nice he thought, if they were still inhabited with people.

    2

    Twelve hours earlier.

    Even at midnight the neighborhood was alive with people of all ages. Down Mayflower Drive a group of kids on their boards skated in and out of the pockets of light emanated by the row of street lamps, while younger children tugged at their daddies’ legs, trying to spy a glimpse of what their fathers were looking at in their telescopes. Dallas Parker had been watching this entire fiasco take place for the last ten minutes. He sat quietly on his bike wiping the sweat from his brow.

    Jesus it’s hot, he mumbled to himself. Not even June yet and it’s this hot at midnight. The summer would prove to be a scorcher, but most summers were obscenely hot in Corcheta, at least all the summers he could remember. He glanced back at the hills of dirt he had been jumping in the semi-empty lot that was nestled within a pocket of houses. His last jump was a little too high for his liking, and being that he had only the street lamps nearby as a source of light, he decided to stop. His eyes swung over to the frame of a two-story house that sat lonely in the lot like an unconscious skeleton among all its fleshed out siblings. And just beyond the frame loomed the large Cresleigh Peaks Development sign. It was this particular company that orchestrated the labyrinth of houses in which Mayflower Drive was situated. Five years ago, when Cresleigh Peaks first came to Corcheta, this budding neighborhood was only two cross streets. Now, it is known as the Corcheta maze; an entanglement of suburban streets, lanes and cul-de-sacs filled with rows of modern two-story and single story houses, the dwelling place for nearly ten thousand occupants.

    It was the abnormal amount of the occupants’ presence that caused Dallas to stop and take notice as to what was happening on the street around him. Every front lawn was inhabited with neighbors sprawled out on blankets or staring through their telescopes up at the celestial anomaly that was materializing above them. Some people pulled out their BBQ’s and lawn chairs. The sound of fireworks emanated somewhere on one of the streets nearby. Dallas cocked his head and stared at the comet.

    Now, according to the newspaper he skimmed, astronomers claimed that C3 Rea had no business traveling through our solar system in the first place. This aberration usually flung itself through distant galaxies, but here it was tonight, showing its blue face for the first time, a face no human being has ever seen before. It was as if it turned from its normal course out of boredom and decided to do a fly-by, just to say hello. And what a particular witching hour it had chosen, the same night that the blood moon was resurfacing.

    Dallas was still staring at C3 Rea when the rising sound of buzzing caught his attention. His eyes quickly left the comet and focused on the little drone quad copter that was floating in the space next to him. A GoPro camera hung below the mechanism. Dallas looked beyond the flying machine and caught sight of a scrawny blonde teenager standing in his front yard, staring in Dallas’ direction while holding a remote control. Dallas smiled into the camera while raising his middle finger for the lens to see. He then peddled out of the dirt lot and onto the asphalt toward the house next door where Jamie Reddecker stood controlling his new toy. The seventeen year old maneuvered the copter back towards the busy street as Dallas dropped his bike on the lawn.

    Jamie glanced at his friend then back to the remote screen. What’s up Ginger?

    How’s it goin’ Jamie-Boy? Getting any good shots with that thing?

    Jamie responded, Just your pale, orange complexion.

    Bull shit, I’m sexy! Speaking of sexy, where’s your sister? Dallas asked as he breezed past the boy and headed for the front door.

    Uh, Lilly and the word sexy don’t belong in the same sentence, Jamie mumbled as he stared into the lens of the camera floating in front of him.

    The basement of the Reddecker house looked like the quintessential den that housed drunken teenagers on a weekly basis. A refrigerator stocked with Mr. Reddecker’s alcohol, a 65-inch flat screen TV hanging from the wall, an old black leather couch that Mrs. Reddecker didn’t want anymore, two mismatched lazy boy chairs posed at each end of the sofa, and a ping-pong table stationed opposite the flight of stairs occupied most of the space. Dallas trotted down the steps to find Lilly and Six-Pack battling each other to a game of beer pong while eighteen-year-old Flint Kawai, a thin and chiseled Pacific islander sat shirtless and motionless on a small stool, trying not to wince at the nagging pain on his left shoulder. A tiny, metal necklace hung from the boy’s neck and dangling from the front of it was a small, silver whistle that Flint clutched with one hand.

    Jackson sat behind Flint, carefully holding the tattoo machine as the needle marked the boy’s flesh. Dallas loomed over to find the Hawaiian Islands freshly inked on Flint’s shoulder.

    You’re in my light, Jackson stated. Dallas quickly took a step back and smiled.

    Looking good, buddy! Flint, does that make you feel closer to home now? Dallas laughed as he opened the fridge, grabbing a beer. Flint didn’t acknowledge the question. He stayed frozen, staring across the room, eyes focused on Lilly who was busy kicking Six-Pack’s ass at beer pong. She giggled as her ball fell inside another one of her opponent’s cups. The tall athlete, sporting a buzz cut cursed under his breath then shook his head in disbelief. He grabbed the cup and chugged the alcohol within. He stared at Dallas and asked, You’re not stuck working the late shift?

    Um, don’t really know, I think I got off work early… Dallas answered as he tossed his Grocery Outlet name badge on the fridge then plopped on the sofa.

    What do you mean you don’t really know? questioned Lilly.

    Dallas shrugged, Today’s been kinda hazy, that’s all.

    Tell me about it! Six-Pack laughed. I don’t even remember how I got here!

    That’s because you start drinking the moment school gets out. Besides, your piece of shit excuse of a car is parked in the driveway, Lilly interjected. Six-Pack felt the set of keys in his pocket and smiled.

    Hey, leave her alone. She’s a classic! he voiced to his opponent.

    Lilly turned to Dallas. And why aren’t you hanging with that new girl? I thought you were into her?

    New girl… which one? I think I have a few… he chuckled.

    How many times do I have to state it? Dallas is a whore! You go through girls faster than you go through a box of Trojans! Lilly glared at him.

    Hey, it’s scientifically proven that red heads are hornier than everyone else. I can’t help myself…

    If that’s not the biggest crock of shit I ever heard, Jackson mumbled behind Flint.

    Listen, I’m not seeing anybody right now! Although, I was kind of curious… Six-Pack, is your sister attached to anyone these days? I wouldn’t mind adding her to my little list… Dallas questioned.

    Six-Pack stared at him for a long moment before answering, Bro, if I catch you with my sister, you and I are gonna have words.

    C’mon buddy, you’re just a big teddy bear to me!

    Yeah, this ‘teddy bear’ is gonna kick your STD infested ass if I catch you with Amy. Six-Pack tossed the ping-pong ball at Dallas’ head as Lilly took a seat on the couch next to him.

    What would you do if one of these girls got pregnant? That ever cross your mind? she asked.

    What would I do? Nothing, that’s what! I wouldn’t be the one stuck with a baby inside me, would I? Ya see, men get off easy, especially when it comes to making children. Tell me Lil, you ever get jealous of us boys? Dallas crassly responded. He reached for the chord that was attached to the headphones around her neck and began childishly tugging at it. She stared at him disgustingly as if he were an alien slug using up her air.

    "Why are

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