The Best Day of My Life
The Bizarchives are holding a competition for a horror story synopsis. I came up with one but I didn't want to spoil it so I wrote it... [2,000 words]
“It’s no fun if you guys just let me win,” Paul said. He flipped the break on his wheelchair and rolled himself over to the sideboard where they had gathered their store of booze for the weekend.
“You won it fair and square, dude,” Kent said. “I would never have guessed that it was Professor Plum.”
Paul filled a glass with Bourbon and downed it in one. He gagged and started coughing. His friends ran to help him as he burst out laughing. “At least I can still feel that!” he said, as the coughing fit subsided.
“You gave me quite a scare,” Jenny said, resting her hand on his shoulder.
“You thought I was going to die? A shot of Jack isn’t going to get me before this fucking disease,” Paul said. “However much I’d like that…,” he added under his breath.
“Well there’s no harm in trying,” Frank said as he filled five glasses from the bottle and handed them around. “Here’s to swimmin’ with bow-legged wimmin’,” he said, raising his glass and chugging it.
“Bow-legged wimmin’!” They toasted.
“Fine, make fun of the cripple who can’t walk,” Paul said, barely able to hide the smirk. “Seriously guys, this has been the best birthday ever, I can’t thank you enough.”
“It’s not over yet, it's only Saturday. So what are we going to do tonight?” Kent asked.
“Midnight swim?” Paul suggested. “I could wheel myself down the launch ramp but someone is going to have to help me put on my swimming trunks.” He cast an exaggerated wink at Jenny who returned it with an equally exaggerated coy smile.
“It’s a bit cold,” Dianne said. “Maybe tomorrow when the sun comes up?”
“Party-pooper,” Paul said. “What if I don’t make it until the morning.” He was trying to make light of his situation but it fell flat. The company fell silent, staring at the ground and refusing to look their friend in the eye as if it might somehow change his situation if they refused to acknowledge it.
They’d grown up together in the small Kentucky town of Bowling Green, at first hanging out together as kids while their parents got together at weekends and holidays, then as genuine friends. They’d kept in contact as jobs and studying had spread them across the country but they had always managed to meet up each year in the summer to celebrate Paul’s birthday. However, this year was different. Paul had revealed his condition in the spring and he’d deteriorated quickly since then. Their lively friend, always quick with the jokes, wasn’t expected to survive the year.
“I’m going to freshen up,” Paul said, “and by that, I mean change my incontinence pants.” He wheeled his way to his bedroom. The others watched him go, dark thoughts clouded the space between them.
“Did you get it?” Kent asked Frank in a hushed whisper once the bedroom door had closed.
“I did.” He held out a plastic ziplock bag containing a pile of white powder. “Laboratory-grade potassium cyanide. My colleague’s tests are going to produce some odd results but this is for a greater cause.”
“I’m not sure about this,” Jenny said. “They still might find a cure.”
“I’ve been following the research for months and there’s nothing for his condition coming anytime soon,” Frank said. “He’ll be gone in a couple of months, long before they find a cure, and it won’t be pretty. He told us that this is what he wanted, remember?”
“Maybe he was joking? Maybe he’s changed his mind?” Jenny insisted. “We can't just...you know…”
“I’m back! Did you miss me?” Paul was shirtless and had changed into his swimming trunks. “Fuck you guys, I’m going for a swim.” He rolled up to the front door and down the ramp towards the lake that lay in front of the cabin, reflecting the full moon on its languid surface.
“I’ll go with him,” Jenny said. “Give me a minute.”
Once the door had closed behind Jenny, Frank went to the windows and closed the blinds. “So how do we do it?” he said. “Put it in his drink? Sprinkle on his birthday cake?”
“And do we tell him?” Kent asked. “I mean, will he want to know?”
Dianne was sobbing. “I know we talked about it but I never thought we’d actually go through with it.”
Kent walked over and put his arm around her shoulder. “None of us want to do it but it’s for the best. You watched the video he sent us with that guy who had the same thing. Do you want him to have to go through that?”
“Jesus! Help!” Paul’s scream cut through the night. “Help!”
Frank, Kent and Dianne rushed outside. Paul was lying in the water, halfway down the launch ramp with his wheelchair on top of him. He was struggling to keep his head above the water. Frank and Kent ran to help him.
“Where’s Jenny?” Dianne asked, frantically looking for her friend.
“There!” Frank said, spotting Jenny floating face down in the lake.
They dragged her onto the shore but she was unresponsive.
“What the hell do we do?” Frank asked desperately.
“CPR,” Kent said. “But I don’t know how to do it, do you?”
“I do,” Paul said, still coughing up water. “Get me over there!”
They wheeled Paul back up the ramp and over to where Jenny lay. Kent and Frank each took an arm, lifted him out of the chair and laid him on top of her.
“Fucking useless legs!” Paul cried as he tried to hold himself over her with just the strength of his arms. “I can’t do it,” he wept. He lay on top of her, their mouths locked in a macabre kiss.
“Someone hold her nose and blow into her mouth, for fuck’s sake. How the hell do you selfish bastards not know CPR!” Paul was distraught at being unable to help his friend.
“Let me try,” Dianne said. “I took a first aid course but it was on a dummy, not a real person.”
“Just do it!” Paul cried.
Dianne leaned over Jenny and cocked her head back before pinching her nose and breathing into her mouth. She recoiled. She screamed. Black ichor dripped from her mouth. “I can’t do it!” she screamed.
Jenny convulsed, her back arching like she’d received an electric shock. Dark liquid oozed from her mouth and nose as she gagged, then she was still.
Dianne felt for a pulse but found no response to her probing fingers. “She’s dead,” she said.
“Fuck!” said Kent, pacing around and furiously tapping at his phone. “There’s no signal. Who’s stupid idea was it to come out to the ass-end of nowhere?”
“Get her in the car,” Paul said. “We have to leave here.”
“What happened?” Dianne demanded. Kent and Frank watched on in unspoken anticipation of the answer.
“Something...something came out of the water and knocked me over,” Paul said, eyes wide as if recalling a nightmare. “After that, I couldn’t see what happened to Jenny. Maybe she just fell? Hit her head on the jetty and ended up in the water? I don’t know. We need to leave. It might come back.”
“You’re not making any sense, man,” Frank said. “Tell us what happened!” He was getting angry with Paul.
Paul fixed him with a harsh stare. “I don’t know.”
They dragged Jenny’s body over to the car parked by the lakeshore and placed her in the back seat.
“Are we going to have to sit with her like that?” Dianne asked.
“You can stay here if you want but I’m heading back to town,” Kent said.
He sat in the front and went to start the car but nothing happened except the chug of the starter motor failing to catch.
“You left the lights on you idiot, you’ve drained the battery,” Frank said, raging at his friend seated in the driver’s seat.
“I did not!” Kent shouted back. He twisted the key in the ignition and slammed the accelerator to the floor. The engine roared and the car surged forward, out of control, straight into a tree. The sudden impact sent the car rolling over on its roof and splashing into the lake.
Kent was flung through the windshield like a broken, bloody puppet, slashed by the broken glass. His face and arms were shredded to the bone as he scrambled to drag himself out, clawing at the air with blood-strewn hands. The others could only watch in horror as the car sank beneath the water, dragging him down with it.
The three friends stood in silence on the lakeshore as it started raining.
Paul started pushing the wheels of his chair, heading off down the path into the forest.
“Where are you going?” Frank asked. “It’s forty miles back to town and it’s pissing down. At least wait until it passes over.
“We haven’t given you your present yet.”
The ground was turning to mud beneath Paul's wheels and he was having trouble making his wheelchair advance a few feet, never mind forty miles.
Paul, Frank and Dianne went back into the cabin in silence.
Frank stood leaning on the sideboard, filling his glass for the second time.
“I could do with one too,” Paul said. Frank passed him the bottle of Bourbon and opened another one for himself. Dianne stood shivering in the centre of the room.
“I’ll get the fire going,” Frank said. He finished his drink then staggered over to the fireplace.
“Is nobody going to say anything?” Paul said. “Two of our friends are dead.”
“Are you jealous?” Frank spat back with unexpected venom. “Wish it was you?”
“Frank!” Dianne was shocked.
“Well, he asked for it!” Frank was adamant. “That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”
“Frank, please,” Dianne pleaded. “There’s no need for this.”
“What do you mean, this is what we’re here for?” Paul asked.
Frank pulled the plastic bag out of his pocket and flung it at Paul. It landed in his lap. “Happy fucking birthday! I got you what you wanted. A quick death.”
Paul looked shocked. “You want to kill me?”
Frank was in tears. “No,” he sobbed, “we don’t want it but we don’t want the alternative either. I don’t know anymore.” He curled up in front of the unlit fire, wracked with weeping.
Paul wheeled over to the sideboard and poured two large glasses of bourbon and went to join Frank.
“It’s OK man, have a drink. I know I said some things but I’ve learned so much. There’s no need for that kind of talk anymore.”
He handed Frank a glass, raised his own and drank it down. Frank looked up and copied the gesture.
“Jesus, I’ve got such a headache,” Frank said. “I’m going to go to bed.” He stood then stumbled forward.
“Looks like you’ve had too much,” said Paul. “Can’t say that I blame you.”
Frank was panting, desperately trying to draw breath.
“Sit down, man. You’re going to do yourself a mischief,” Paul said, rolling his wheelchair out of his path. Franck staggered towards the sofa but collapsed on the floor before he reached it.
“What’s wrong with him?” Dianne asked.
“Probably having a seizure,” Paul said. “Then slow heart rate, low blood pressure, loss of consciousness, and cardiac arrest. It’s typical with cyanide poisoning.”
Frank was clutching at his throat, yellowed spittle foaming at his lips.
“You...you poisoned him?” Dianne was aghast.
“He wanted to do the same to me.”
“But you asked us, you said…”
“That was before. I did a lot of research, on the internet and the dark web. There are a lot of things out there that we do not understand. And some of them are prepared to help us, for a price.
“It just takes a little sacrifice,” Paul said, rising from his wheelchair and walking towards her. “But it’s worth it in the end.
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Nice work Lumi. The Quint quote made me smile. :¬)
gud vid