Rain splattered the windshield as the Oldsmobile tore through the flooded streets. Trevor craned his neck over the steering wheel, struggling to see the road while the wipers fought the deluge. In the passenger seat, Garret scrolled through a list of fast food restaurants; the light from his smartphone cast a ghostly glow upon his narrow face.
“Looks like most places closed a couple of hours ago,” he said.
Trevor glanced back at his fiancée, who was lying across the back seat, her long black hair spilling onto the floor like a rocky waterfall.
He asked: “You gonna make it, Bridget? We’ve still got another hour to the Airbnb.”
She pressed her bare feet against the side window, “I would have been fine if somebody didn’t eat the last sandwich while I was sleeping.”
Garret protested, “You snooze, you lose!”
Trevor ignored their spat and continued scanning through the downpour for signs of life. No signs of nightlife in this little town. He wondered what it was like to live out here in the middle of nowhere. This was a place secluded unto itself, the sort of town you drive through in the blink of an eye. Nobody stopped here. Away up on the left the cliffs sheered up into infinity, a massive steel net spread across its face to catch any spare boulders that might tumble down. Everything was dark except for the dim street lights.
The three travelers jumped as an Amber Alert blared on Garret’s phone.
“Oh drat it all, that’s the third one!” he yelled.
Bridget said, “That’s why I turned my phone off an hour ago.”
“I’m sorry, I kept my phone on so I could find you something to eat, little miss piggy.”
“You wouldn’t have to keep it on if you didn’t eat all the lunches we packed while I was sleeping.”
“Oh don’t be such a B.I.T.–”
“GARRET ANDERSON, DON’T YOU DARE!” Bridget yelled.
Trevor sighed. All day long Bridget and Garret had been trading passive-aggressive insults, and as the six-hour drive turned into nine hours, tempers shortened to the length of a match. Trevor had only gotten Bridget to agree to the trip because Garret’s girlfriend was supposed to be tagging along, but the two had a fight at the last minute and suddenly Garret was a bachelor again. Now Trevor found himself playing moderator between his fiancée and his best friend in what should have been a relaxing expedition into the Cascades.
Blurred through the streaks of water, Trevor spied a dimly lit boxlight advertising a Dapper Burger Jr.
“Hey you two, I think I see something. This place open, Garret?” he asked.
Garret searched his phone for a second then shrugged, “My maps app says it’s been permanently closed for years.”
As they got closer, Trevor noticed that the lights were on inside, and he saw figures moving about in the big front windows.
“I’m gonna risk it,” he said, turning his blinker on.
As they pulled into the parking lot, he shuddered at the grotesque 1950s cartoon mascot on the yellowing sign. It was the image of a pudgy shirtless toddler happily waddling on two legs, its arms outstretched to welcome hungry travelers, but in place of a diaper it wore a hamburger, and its joyfully leering Big Boy eyes were plastered on a fry scoop instead of a head, the fries sticking out the top resembling hair.
“Gotta love these small-town burger joints,” Garret quipped.
Bridget said, “Remember to see if they have anything without meat.”
Garret snorted.
Trevor cut the argument off before it could start, “Shut up, I’m pulling up to the drive-thru.”
The faded blue Oldsmobile fit right in next to the dilapidated drive-thru menu. Bridget sat up and pressed her face against the side window to see better, her breath fogging it up. She sighed when she saw the options.
“I guess the fish burger will have to do,” she said.
Trevor rolled down the window and yelled into the antiquated microphone, “Hey! You guys open?”
An eternity went by as rain pelted the open window. Trevor tapped the microphone for good measure.
“I don’t think we’re in luck, guys,” he turned back to the occupants of the car.
The microphone let out an unearthly squeal, and all three travelers instinctively covered their ears. After the feedback died down, a dry voice snapped out of the speaker, “We’re closed!”
Trevor replied, “We’ve got hungry people in the car and a long drive ahead of us tonight. We’ll make it worth your while!”
“Go away!”
Garret leaned over Trevor’s lap and yelled out the window, “A hundred dollar bill says I can change your mind. All we’re asking is one fish sandwich with fries and a Coke.”
They listened to the silent static crackle over the intercom. The voice croaked back, “No fish in today, just soy burgers.”
Bridget tapped Trevor on the shoulder, “I’ll take it, and tell him not to forget the mayo.”
Trevor relayed the order, and the voice instructed him to stop at the second window.
“You didn’t have to do that, Garret,” Bridget said as they pulled forward.
Garret shrugged: “Consider it my penance for eating your lunch. I can have a heart at times, you know.”
The drive-thru window slid open and they were greeted by the cheerful face of a woman in her mid-forties. She was about five feet tall, 140 pounds, and her hair was cut into a clean brown bob that bounced with her bubbly movements.
“Sorry about that, folks,” she chirped in a midwestern accent, “Ol’ Jeremiah can be a bit cranky at closing time. We don’t get a lot of travelers at this time of night.”
True to his word, Garret gave five twenty-dollar bills to Trevor, who offered them to the woman. She took the stack of bills and handed four of them back.
“Oh don’t worry about that, hon. Let’s just call it an even twenty and I’ll throw some chocolate milkshakes in for the lot of ya.”
Trevor looked back at the other two in surprise: “Well…okay then. Thanks! And I’m sorry to spring up on you so late.”
She waved him off, “Not at all, what do you think we’re here for?”
The window snapped shut, and the travelers waited while the storm raged on. A minute later it opened again, and the cheerful woman handed three milkshakes, a Coke, and a paper bag to the car’s occupants.
“You all drive safe now!” she waved happily before shutting the window.
“Everything good, Bridget?” Trevor asked as he pulled away from the drive-thru.
“Yeah, everything looks good. They even got the mayo!” she exclaimed.
“Can you hand me a straw?” Garret held his hand back to accept the requested item. Bridget rooted through the bag for a moment before replying.
“Dammit, looks like she forgot the straws.”
“What?” Trevor’s head swiveled around. He had already pulled out of the drive-thru and was preparing to turn onto the main road.
Bridget wrinkled her nose: “It’s not a big deal. I’ll just wait for it to melt then drink it.”
Trevor sighed and put the car into park: “I’ll get it! It isn’t a big deal, I’ll just run up to the door and ask for a few straws.”
“No really, Trev, I’m fine,” Bridget protested.
Before Trevor could further display his chivalry, Garret popped open his passenger door and bolted into the rain.
“Beat you to it!” he shouted back at Trevor, as he sprinted to the burger joint’s doors.
Bridget and Trevor sat stunned for a second, then burst out laughing. They watched as Garret rapped on the glass door. He stood waiting for a moment, pulling the collar of his flannel shirt up in a futile protest against the storm. Trevor jumped as lightning flashed and thunder rolled in after.
“Scared of a little thunder, Trevie-wevie?” Bridget mocked.
He pretended to shake in fright and leaned back over his seat to nuzzle Bridget, “Yeah, I’m really scared and I need someone to cuddle with.”
They both jumped at the next clap of thunder, this time sounding almost on top of them. The car rocked and the lightbox for the Dapper Burger Jr. flickered. Trevor looked to see if Garret was on his way back. The glass doors were vacant, and all the lights inside were out.
“What’s taking him so long? I’m going to check on him,” Trevor said, zipping up his rain jacket and opening his door.
“Oh no, you aren’t leaving me in here by myself,” Bridget answered, pulling her rain jacket on, “I’m coming with you.”
The two of them stepped into the rain and were instantly assaulted by sheets of water and blasts of wind. Their rain jackets flapped wildly to the side as they approached the darkened building. Trevor knocked against one of the doors and found it gave to his touch. He pushed it open and yelled inside.
“Yo Garret! We need to hit the road!”
He was answered by silence. He pushed further into the dark restaurant and the door closed behind the couple, entombing them in the lobby. Their wet shoes squeaked loudly on the linoleum, while the wind whistled outside behind them. Bridget broke the eeriness by loudly announcing that Garret was probably in the bathroom and that she might as well use it as well, before heading in the direction of the facilities, using her phone as a light.
Trevor peered through the darkened building. Why was it so quiet? Where were the employees?
He shrugged and went to the condiment table, only to find the straw holder was unstocked. He looked over the counter and saw unopened boxes of straws and plastic utensils stacked on a shelf in the back. Satisfied that nobody was looking, he hopped the counter and opened one of the boxes.
He stopped. Was that a scream he heard? No, it must have been the wind outside. He was letting this place get to him. There it was again! That was definitely a human voice crying out. He cocked his ear and listened. It was the sound of a few voices blended together—children crying—coming from the back of the kitchen.
He cautiously followed his ears around metal shelves and dormant friers, using his phone to light his way. The crying grew louder (though still remained faint) the further back he explored until he came to what appeared to be a closet door. Slowly, carefully, he inched it open.
The door swiveled in to reveal stone steps descending into an earthen tunnel. The chorus of weeping children’s voices rose to meet him from deep within. Trevor stood shocked, unsure of what to do. He looked at his phone. He had one bar of reception. Should he call the police? And tell them what? For all he knew, this was a shelter below, and the employees had taken their families down there.
He looked back at the vacant restaurant, then entered the tunnel’s gaping maw. The air grew mustier the further he descended. The only light down here came from his tiny phone, which illuminated about a foot ahead. He noticed there were markings on the walls now too, writing carved into the stone in an alphabet he was unfamiliar with. Whatever these writings were, they seemed to have remained undisturbed for a long time. The cries grew louder, and before long he noticed it wasn’t as dark as before. A flickering light came from down the tunnel in front of him, casting long shadows in the carven letters (now more numerous than before). The steps ended, and he now found himself descending a smooth, sloping corridor that twisted along.
Trevor thought he should turn back. He had now decided this was not a storm shelter, but he’d gone too far for his curiosity to allow him to retreat now. Besides, if Garret wasn’t above in the restaurant, perhaps he was down here. The red light ahead was brighter now, and within a turn or two, he should be able to see its source. He swallowed and shouldered forward.
Rounding one final corner, the tunnel opened into a vast, lighted cavern that reached so far up that he couldn’t see the top. The cavern was circular, reaching hundreds of meters across, and all around the edges were brown stone statues, set in the ground like stalagmites carved into human forms. These statues were nude—both men and women—and their details were smoothed from the passage of time. Some were kneeling while others cowered, yet all held expressions of terror and awe on their faces. They were all pointed towards the cavern’s center, and Trevor followed their gaze.
A collection of a hundred robed figures were gathered around an enormous fire, darker and redder than any fire he had ever seen before. Its light bathed the cave in crimson. The robed figures were engaged in a strange chant, their hoods bobbing as they bowed up and down. Next to the fire in the middle of the cavern was an enormous takeaway container, the kind fast food restaurants used to serve kids meals, only this box was twenty feet tall and covered in those same strange letters that were carved into the tunnel’s sides. Trevor’s knees turned to rubber when he realized that this giant kids’ meal box was the source of the children’s cries he had been following.
Suddenly, the fire sparked violently and its flames turned green. Trevor ducked behind one of the cowering statues to get a better view. The flames twisted and weaved high above the scene, forming a tree-like pillar and covering the cavern in blinding green light. Then they slowly subsided, revealing something new in the fire’s center. Trevor bit his fist to muffle a scream as he beheld the fifty-foot monstrosity that emerged from the flames. It stretched its plump, naked limbs as it stepped forward. Its groin was clothed in a mass of bread and meat and lettuce, resembling a massive rotting hamburger. As the thing lumbered forward on its flabby, awkward legs, enormous bits of tomato and pickle fell out, leaving a slimy trail of spoiled vegetable product behind it. Trevor gagged at the putrid smell that wafted from the creature, but all that was forgotten when he saw the thing’s face. The rolls of pink flesh around its neck merged into its tall, rectangular head. Its face was smooth, and the top of its head opened up to stalks of giant potato fries, like pillars pointing heavenward. This potato forest above its head wobbled with the monster’s grotesque toddle, but the face…oh god, the face was the worst of all.
Trevor closed his eyes to shut it out, but the image refused to leave, like the grin had been branded into his mind. Those large leering eyes were twisted in a pastiche of cartoon joy, but held no emotion within except hunger. All-consuming, ravenous hunger. The thing approached the takeaway box and threw open the lid, revealing a mass of frightened children lumped together like chicken nuggets writhing to escape. The chanting grew more intense as the robed figures knelt and bowed their heads. The creature let out a groan of delight at the feast, and with a chubby hand, it plucked a fat, screaming child out of the box, drawing it to its gaping mouth.
“You don’t want to eat that, buddy! Trust me, you don’t know where it’s been.”
Trevor looked up. Garret! Garret was alive and had stepped into the circle of light, planting himself directly in front of the monster.
The thing lowered the child back into the box and turned its gaze full upon Garret.
“Who art thou, who darest to challenge the almighty Malzalech?”
“The name’s Garret! And I’m gonna kick your–”
Garret didn’t get the opportunity to finish his threat, as the thing reached across the space between them, snatched him in one hand, and tossed him into its open mouth like a boneless chicken wing.
Trevor covered his ears so he wouldn’t hear the sickening munch as his friend was devoured. The robed figures murmured among themselves, glancing around nervously. Suddenly a scream pealed out, echoing through the room. Trevor whipped his head around, and to his horror he saw Bridget standing at the entrance to the cave, petrified with fear. One hand clutched her paper Dapper Burger Jr. bag, and the other was lifted to her mouth in shock.
The creature’s eyes gleefully cast themselves upon her shrinking form and it spoke again.
“Aaahhhh! Another heretic! Come unto Malzalech, so that I might feed upon thy unbelief!”
Trevor screamed at her to run, to flee up the passage, get in the car, and drive until she ran out of gas, but she just stood there as if her soul had left her body. The all-consuming Malzalech stretched out a greedy hand and scooped her up, slowly bringing her closer to its mouth. Hot oil dribbled from its lips, and only when she felt its rancid breath upon her, did she break from her reverie. She thrashed and screamed, throwing her limbs about in a futile attempt to free herself. Trevor bit harder into his fist, drawing blood. What could he do? What could he do? He had no weapons, no way to contend with the eldritch horror before him. The image of Garret standing bravely before being eaten was seared into his brain.
Bridget beat her fists against the creature’s face as her legs lowered into its mouth. The paper bag in her clenched hand ripped, and the burger within fell between the hungry jaws.
The monster stopped, feeling the soy burger between its teeth, tasting it with its rolling tongue. It swallowed. Its eyes turned upon the robed figures bowing before him.
“Thou hast betrayed the Sacred Menu.”
An elderly man at the head of the group threw back his hood and held his hands up pleadingly. Trevor recognized the raspy voice from the drive-thru speaker.
“We have not, oh magnificent Malzalech! We have followed the Sacred Menu as we’ve always done for generations!”
“Thou liest!” Malzalech frothed, dropping Bridget—now forgotten—to the floor, “This is not meat, red and moist, that I taste. It is a deception. It is sacrilege!”
The old man cowered, covering his head with his boney hands, “Oh great Malzalech, we needed a non-meat alternative to offer! This is not the world of our ancestors. People today require options–”
“They shalt have fish, as I granted thou in thy supplication years before! Was this not satisfactory in thine eyes?!”
“It was–it is! But we live far from the fisheries, and the delivery was late this year. And the soy burgers are easy to–”
His sentence ended in an unearthly screech, as Malzalech grabbed him in a fury, breaking his bones with its grip, and bit him in half. This threw the other cultists into a frenzy. Chaos reigned as robed figures clawed over each other in a desperate dash for the cave entrance. Malzalech waded through the mass of humanity, scooping up mouthfuls of screaming worshipers at a time.
Trevor had shaken himself out of his stupor and now he had but one thing on his mind: Bridget. He frantically searched the seething mass of bodies until he found her. She was limping up to the enormous takeout box which the clumsy Malzalech had overturned in his carelessness. The children had tumbled out into a sobbing pile, and Bridget was attempting to shelter them from the horrific scene behind her as best she could.
Like a soldier navigating the carnage of war, Trevor bolted for Bridget and the children. He dodged a flying limb here, jumped over a crawling cultist there, and deftly swooped through Malzalech’s stumbling legs. Some sort of survival instinct must have taken over because he no longer felt fear. All he felt was the drive to get to Bridget.
“My leg’s broken! Quick, get the children to cover!” she yelled as he approached.
Trevor surveyed the crowd of children. There must have been ten of them or so. He winced at the screams behind him and tried to focus. Where? Where could he take them? There was nowhere to hide in this accursed place, and the entrance was clogged with the mangled corpses of fleeing worshipers.
A robed hand clutched at his shoulder, and he swung around, ready to fight for his life. The cultist threw off her hood, revealing the cheerful tiller from the drive-thru.
“I’m special agent Amanda Torrance!” she whipped an FBI badge out of her robe, “Do you know how long it took me to infiltrate this town? I’ve been tailing this here child kidnapping ring for months now! I had no idea it would lead me to…”
She trailed off and nodded at the massacre behind her. She pointed towards the back of the cave: “There’s a back tunnel over there. It’s narrow, but it’ll take us out to the cliff on the edge of town. Now let’s skedaddle!”
Trevor took one of Bridget’s arms and the three of them herded the children towards the back of the cave. Trevor couldn’t help smiling as Bridget calmly tried to keep the kids distracted, asking them their names and what their favorite animals were. It did little to abate their terror, but it helped keep the group focused on moving. By the time they reached the back tunnel, the whole cavern was trembling. Bits of rock broke off from the ceiling, shattering statues and crushing cultists. By now the front entrance had completely caved in, and what cultists were still alive desperately tried to make their way to the back door. Malzalech made sure none reached it.
The small tunnel was so narrow that the group had to run in single file. Special Agent Torrance led the way while Trevor and Bridget brought up the rear. Now that they had some order, even the children were focused only on getting out, each kid holding onto the shoulders of the one ahead. Trevor cast one final glance into the cave. Malzalech had finished with the cultists and was now roaring in fury, tearing down the walls of the cavern and flinging boulders through the fire.
“I am the Immutable Malzalech! All shall tremble before my wrath! None can contain me! Before the dawn of ages, I–”
His screed was cut short as rubble blocked the tunnel’s entrance. Trevor shook his head and shouldered on.
The thundering behind them grew duller the farther they ran up the sloping tunnel. Now it was a forgotten tremor, like the Earth’s stomach was slightly rumbling, and before long even that subsided. Eventually, the darkness of the tunnel gave way to a dim orange light up ahead, and in another ten minutes, the group stumbled out into the blazing sunrise. Special Agent Torrance led them to her truck parked nearby and soon the area was swarming with police and SWAT agents.
Apparently, the entire population of the town had gathered below that night because not a soul was to be found. Trevor managed a weak smile as parents were tearfully reconciled with their missing children. At least everybody made it out safe and sound. His smile fell when he thought of Garret. Well…almost everybody.
A paramedic offered Bridget a sausage egg and cheese breakfast burrito as she was rolled into an ambulance. Trevor stepped in, “Do you have anything without meat–”
Bridget snatched the burrito and devoured it in three bites. Trevor raised his eyebrows. She wiped her mouth and glared at him.
“Desperate times call for desperate measures,” she said, “don’t think this will become a habit.”
Trevor laughed, and the paramedics drove her away.
Wyland Carver - Tales to fright and delight 