C. LaSart - Ad Nauseam - 13 Tales of Extreme Horror

There was a heavy hiss of static on the line before a gravelly male voice responded.

“Emily? Is that you, baby?”

A sob lodged in her throat. It was impossible.

“Daddy?”

“Oh baby! I miss you. It’s been so long and I’m so lonely.”

Hot tears gathered in her eyes, her knuckles white where she gripped the handset. She knew without a doubt it was her father’s voice. It had been a quick and terrible death eight years ago when they found the lung cancer. Four months from diagnosis to burial, and she missed and grieved for him every day since.

“Oh Daddy. I miss you, too. I think about you every day. I wonder if you can see me, if you’re proud of me. I love you so much.”

“Proud of you? Are you kidding, girl? How could I possibly be proud of you?” His voice changed, darker, harsher.

Emily froze, her mouth moving but no sounds emerging as she struggled to make sense of the heartless words coming from her kind and loving and dead father.

“Just what the hell have you done to be proud of, you worthless bitch? Look at you. No man, no family. What good is a woman with no babies? Does your success keep you warm at night? Did you want to grow up to be a lonely old woman with no one to fuck? You sit alone all night, typing away at your damned computer, your cold, hateful womb empty and worthless. I bet your fucking ovaries are shriveled black grapes.”

“Daddy?”

“Don’t worry, Emily. There’s a place in hell for you. For all you worthless, career-minded bitches who think you’re too good for a man. To goddamned high-class to squeeze a baby out of your rotten crotches. You’ll love it here. You’re gonna learn what a woman is really good for. They’re gonna fuck you in ways you never knew they could. Maybe I’ll take my turn and give those dried up ovaries a stir!”

The skull phone made a loud crash as it hit the wall, knocking a decent hole in the plaster, but Emily no longer cared if she woke the neighbors.

“Calm down, Em. There’s got to be some logical explanation. Someone’s just fucking with you is all.”

“I don’t know how.” Emily drew a steadying breath, trying hard not to cry anymore. She had done plenty of that already as she relayed the horrifying details of the night before to Layla, her only sister. Her cell phone felt hot against her face.

“I know you said you looked, but it was late. There had to be some hidden battery compartment or something. Some remote microphone in the thing.”

“So how did they know what Dad’s voice sounded like, Layla?”

“Maybe they didn’t. Maybe you were just thinking about Dad. We all miss him, honey. Maybe you were just missing him extra bad and your mind made you hear what you wanted to hear.”

“Well I sure as shit didn’t want to hear that.” Emily snapped.

“I know. That’s not what I’m saying. It’s a sick prank. You must’ve pissed someone off. Where’s the phone now? Maybe you should take it to the police.” Layla was always a calming influence, had a way of making those around her feel at ease regardless of the situation.

“I threw it in the box and drove into the city. Took me two hours to find the place in the middle of the night, but I did. Left it right on the sidewalk in front of the guy’s store. I don’t care if it gets stolen. Whoever takes it will probably bring it back, anyway. I should’ve never called that guy and left the message. Now he’s gonna get pissed at me for not keeping it. Fucking store looked creepy too, all kinds of voodoo and witchcraft shit in the windows.”

“Hey now. You’re into that shit.” Layla laughed and soon Emily found herself chuckling as well.

“I don’t believe in it. I just like scary movies and horror novels. It’s not the same as living it.”

“Well, Big Sis, maybe you need a vacation. Robby and the kids and I would love to have you.”

With the subject changed, they talked for a few minutes about how long it had been since they’d seen one another and the cost of plane tickets from New York City to L.A. Layla refused to let Emily go until she had extracted a tentative promise that when things slowed down, Emily would visit them in California. Though she tried to remain upbeat after the conversation, Emily couldn’t help but feel awful for the rest of the day. The echo of her father’s words seemed louder when she compared her sister’s family to her own solitary life. It certainly wasn’t the first time she had questioned the decisions she’d made, but this time they seemed to have more of a dire relevance.

Emily woke from a nightmare she couldn’t hold onto. Something about hell and babies screaming. Children who ran from her when she tried to save them from the flames. She lay in her bed, disoriented in the darkness for a moment before the sound that woke her came again.

Ringing.

From the kitchen.

“No way. No fucking way,” she croaked as she slid out of bed and crept down the hall. Emily knew what she would find when she turned on the light, but was powerless to contain a shriek when she saw the phone sitting on the counter, its eyes glowing red with every ring.

Backing away, she kept her eyes on it, not looking away as her back encountered the heavy front door. She felt if the locks were still engaged. They were, and the chain was still in place.

None of this is happening. I’m dreaming this time. There’s no way it’s back.

Eyes burning with a demonic light, it continued to trill, as if mocking her. Emily remembered Layla’s assurance that this was a cruel prank, and her fear turned to anger at whoever could be vile enough to do this to her. Before she lost her nerve, she marched over to the counter and grabbed the handset, yelling into the mouth piece.

“You’re not my fucking father!”

There was a hiss of static once again, the voice on the other side sounding amused when it replied.

“Of course I’m not your father, babe. It’s Ricky.”

Emily froze, her blood cold in her veins. It sounded like Ricky. It really did. But like her father, Ricky was dead.

“Prove it.”

“Oh baby. I know things about you that no one else does. Your first time was with me in my parents’ bed when they left town for the weekend. You made me wait a year and a half before you gave in. You cried when I was done.”

It was Ricky.

Ricky had been Emily’s boyfriend from Sophomore year of high school until her Freshman year of college. He was a grade behind her, and she had thought they could bear to be parted for one year until he graduated and joined her at the state university. It all came to an end when he plowed his sports car into the back of a semi-truck at sixty miles per hour, taking his head off and severely injuring her sister Layla, who had leaned over at just the right moment to retrieve a can of pop that had spilled on the floor.

Emily had wondered for a long time if something might have been going on between Layla and Ricky, but her sister swore that he was just giving her a ride home from cheerleading practice. In the end, Emily chose to believe her sister, though in weak moments she still wondered.

“What do you want?”

“Wow, babe. You sure don’t seem too happy to hear from me. Of course, you always were a frigid cunt.”

“I’m not listening to this. Do you hear me? I’m hanging up, you sick bastard. I will not listen to this!” Emily yelled into the phone, rage and fear making her shake.

“Oh yes you will! You will because you want to know. You NEED to know what happened. You will listen until I’m done talking, bitch. You think we would’ve gotten married, don’t you? You think we were some perfect fucking couple. Well, we weren’t, Em. We never were. I was putting the stones to baby sis for a year before you even let me get a finger in you. You were a cold bitch, but Layla was hot for it. That little slut couldn’t wait to betray you. You think you’re so close? Little sister was slobbering all over my cock every fucking time you turned your back. And you know what? She was good at it, too. Better than you’ll ever be.”