RECAP FOR PART TWO:
“Wilbur!” She whispered and waited. “Wilbur, what are you doing?”
There was no response other than shuffling from the pitch-black shadowed interior of the shed. Goosebumps exploded up her arm, and her intuition screamed at her again.
“Wilbur, I-I’m going back inside. I don’t like whatever it is you’ve got going on in your head right now, and breaking into their shed wasn’t part of the deal. I can’t keep up these shenanigans, so you need to cut it out and get back inside before they come looking for us.”
She placed her hands on her hips, hoping that the stance would give her the sense of authority she wished she had, and waited. There was no response, so she shined the light into the shed, and peeled the door open another inch. She stepped inside, as more clattering rang out from the darkness.
“This is ridiculous, what’s the plan now? And, where’s the damn pig?” Ethel said, gritting her teeth. “I know you’re in here, Wilbur, I can hear you. Why aren’t you answering me?”
She heard the sound of large hooves beating charging at her from the dark, and she screamed a bone chilling scream. Hambone brought the axe down on her head. Blood splattered across the shed, staining his body another shade. The scream, however, had been heard.
***I know this was some time coming, but, in truth I faced several different endings and directions, before settling on one I truly enjoyed writing. I found this ending, personally, to be very bone-chilling, and satisfying. I feel it opens to a world of potential and possibility, that you, cherished reader, can, well…go ham with! That pun was *very* intended, hahaha! :) That said, this is the final part of my beloved short horror story, built for spooky season! I hope anyone reading enjoys it! So, without further ado, here it is! Part three, or as I like to refer to it:
HAMBONE: THE FINAL CHAPTER
Marge froze in between the kitchen and the dining room. She’d heard Ethel’s scream from the wide-open kitchen window. Yet, it wasn’t just the scream that had the glasses of milk she had fetched for the pie in each hand trembling…it was the thud she heard afterwards. The type of thud that made every scary movie she’d seen in her youth spring to mind. The type of thud that, for some bizarre reason, made her think of a body dropping to the ground. And she couldn’t bring herself to move, or speak, or…close the damn kitchen window!
If Jedidiah had heard anything, suspicion was lost on him, as his voice rang out from the dining room, “What’s taking them so long, I wonder? Say, did you think they were acting funny?”
Marge stopped breathing, her whole body was on edge, and she leaned forward and set the milk glasses down on the counter. Her eyes remain glued to the window as she reached up to the rotary house phone.
“Marge? Why aren’t you answering me?” Jedidiah called out.
She dialed 9-1-1, ignoring him, and the voice on the other line made her jump, “9-1-1, what is your emergency?”
Marge wanted to kick herself…what was her emergency? She heard her friend scream and now for a reason that only her overactive imagination could conjure up: she was paranoid about a mad man loose on her farm? She’d sound crazy, and she knew it. She cleared her dry throat.
“Yes, hello. I heard my friend scream from outside, and I just have this horrible feeling there’s someone out there.”
“Do you see anyone out there?” The operator asked.
Marge gritted her teeth at the operator’s tone, “No, and I’m not going out there to find out. I am telling you, I believe there’s an intruder on our property, can you please send someone? Just to check up on us. Please. Our address is 2222 W. Beckel Lane. Our farm is outside of town, so you’ll need to send someone right away.”
“Are you alone in the house, ma’am?”
“No, my husband is home, and I’m not sending him out either.”
As if he had been summoned, Jedidiah appeared over her shoulder, and she jerked in shock when he placed his hand on her shoulder and said, “Marge, what’re you doing? Who are you on the phone with?”
“Ma’am, unless this is a serious emergency, we can’t---”
“Damn it! I’m telling you, my friend screamed, and I am certain she’s hurt…m-maybe even dead. Now send someone out here, for the love of God!” Marge shouted, and she slammed the phone back on the hook. “Jed, I know I sound crazy, but I have a terrible, terrible feeling. I heard Ethel scream, and---”
Jedidiah’s face scrunched in confusion, and he grunted while he said, “What do you mean you heard her scream? I’ll fetch my gun.”
“NO! I don’t want you going out there, damn it! I don’t have a good feeling about it!”
“All the more reason, to get my gun!”
A loud, monstrous squeal erupted from outside. Marge snatched a butcher knife out of the nearby knife holder and punted for the kitchen window. She slammed it shut just as Hambone’s mangled face peered inside. Marge screamed, as the mutated pig smashed his giant hoof through the glass, shattering pieces around the perimeter like broken lightbulbs and splintering Marge’s arms with streaks of bright red blood. Jedidiah darted for the living room with Marge on his heels, and he grabbed his shotgun from off the top of where it was hanging above the fireplace mantle.
It was eerily silent, except for the couple’s labored, terrified breaths while they backed into the farthest corner of their living room. Jedidiah cocked the gun, and Marge picked pieces of glass out of her bleeding arms from the smashed kitchen window.
“What the Hell is that thing, Jed?” Marge asked.
“How the fuck am I supposed to know?!” Jedidiah retorted.
Another squeal rang from outside, and Marge tightened her grip on the blood-covered handle of the knife. Jedidiah steeled himself, and prayed he’d be able to get through the rest of the night without crapping himself. He wasn’t so sure he’d be able to hold it in at his age, and that pissed him off as much as the creature outside scared the ever-loving shit out of him.
“I hope the police are on their way,” Marge whispered. “I don’t know if me hanging up worked as well I as I hope it did.”
“I have the keys to the truck in my back pocket, I say we make a run for it.”
“Are you insane!? Not with that…that…thing out there,” Marge said with gritted teeth. “Why not take our chances inside? It blasted through that window like it was nothing. Nothing! It could’ve gotten inside by now, and it chose not to…why do you think that is, Jed? It wants us to go out there!”
“Shit,” Jedidiah shrugged. “Well, what do you want to do? Stay inside until the police get here? At best they’re an hour out. At worst, an hour and a half!”
Marge squeezed his arm, as she sniffed the air with wide eyes and said, “Wait Jed…what’s that smell?”
Jedidiah took a whiff, and shouted, “Son of a---that’s smoke! That thing set the damn house on fire!”
No sooner had they come to this realization; smoke exploded into the room, flittering through the house at top speed. They coughed, darting out the front door, and paused only for a horrifying second. Their entire home, every precious memory they had, was now engulfed in flames rising high into the night sky. Hambone appeared from around the house, snorting while he dropped a can of kerosene Jedidiah had stored in the shed next to…
“Holy Mother of God.” Jedidiah whispered.
Hambone swung the axe in his hooved hands with shocking dexterity.
“Oh Lord, have mercy!” Marge screamed, latching on to his arm. She wasn’t aware how deep she was digging her nails into his skin, but Jedidiah was too stunned to protest. He looked into Hambone’s eyes, and his mouth hung open.
“H-Hambone? Is that you, big fella?”
Hambone let out a guttural squeal, and Jedidiah shook his head in fear and awe, “What the hell happened to you? I-it’s me, you know me! I raised you, I-I fed you!”
The organism controlling the swine’s brain shifted through Hambone’s memories like a slideshow. It stopped, coming up short on the last full memory the pig had, which was Jedidiah feeding him earlier, mere minutes before the parasite had taken control. But the parasite remembered things too. It remembered the conversation between Wilbur and Jedidiah. The conversation about selling Hambone to slaughter. Hambone filled with rage at the memory, and the otherworldly parasite had a job to do. It was sent this way to eradicate human beings, and that’s exactly what it was going to do.
“You mean to tell me Jed, that thing is…our pig?” Marge screeched, “Th-that’s not possible! What happened to him?”
“I dunno Marge, you keep asking me questions right now that I sure as shit don’t know the answers too,” Jedidiah barked. He fished the truck keys out of his pocket and passed them to her. “I’m going to try and reason with him; I think he understands me. Or, at least he’s remembering me. You take the keys, and you make a run for the truck.”
“Not without you, I won’t! I can’t, I---”
“Damn it Marge, it’s not up for discussion! Now, GO!”
Marge shook her head but lunged for the truck, right as Hambone flung the bloodied axe through the air, spiraling right into the back of Marge’s head with perfect precision.
“MARGE…NO!” Jedidiah screamed, and Hambone took a hooved step forward. Jedidiah whipped the gun up, aiming straight for its chest and shouting, “Hambone, you gotta’ stop this right now, I’m warning you!”
The swine-like monster continued it’s slow approach, and Jedidiah rang out a series of shots. Bullets blasted through Hambone’s grotesque body, not slowing him in the slightest. Jedidiah—-out of bullets—-dropped the gun, running to his dead wife’s side and snatching up the keys. He fondled with them, before he was able to fit the key into the truck door, flinging it open. He started the truck, backing it up, as lights shined straight at Hambone in the stark contrast of the night. Jedidiah stomped on the gas, charging forward and ramming the beast.
The front end of the truck smashed in against the force, and Jedidiah conked his head hard on the windshield. His vision blurred, and a gush of blood splattered out of his skull, splashing onto the cracked windshield. Hambone, unphased, tore open the truck door, as Jedidiah spilled out onto the ground and crawled backwards, pleading for his life.
“Hambone, please, please don’t do this! I-I’m sorry! I never would’ve actually sold you. I-I love you ole’ pal.”
Hambone tilted his head, providing a glimmer of hope, before he took his giant front hooves and smashed the farmer’s head in. An explosion of brain tissue, blood, and garbled flesh blasted into the air like confetti, before the creature turned to face the road leading to the town of Blue Gus. Police sirens blared from the distance, and the lights on the approaching police cars painted the dark with blinking strikes of red and blue. The organism, through Hambone’s eyes glared at the town’s lights illuminating the sky. This was its purpose.
Hambone, the monster that was a delicate, easy-going pig just hours prior, was now an indestructible killing machine. He squealed into the night, the sound reverberating down the street and through the surrounding trees, as began his descent along the road with one destination in mind: the town.
What, no sequel (se-sqeeeeal - le har) yet? Git to work girl. Need me some further adventures of Hambone!
My Doll, I am never eating bacon again! Seriously, Tina, great read. 🙂I love how he “almost” remembered ol’ Jed. (Oops. Not going to spoiler.)