Wofford Lee Jones is a horror/thriller writer who loves coffee, a good book, and a great story. His love for horror grew from watching movies in the late 70s/early 80s. Only in his 20s did he start diving in and reading horror. He enjoys art, drawing/painting, watching live theatre and movies, traveling, reading, book cover design, and supporting his fellow writers. He works as a designer at Yates Construction by day, but engineering is different from where his true passion lies. Nightly and on the weekends, he can be found with a hot cup of coffee, studiously banging out that next chilling tale. He always strives to keep it dark, disturbing, and a little bit creepy. Welcome to his darkness. He lives in Greenville, South Carolina, with his wife, Laurie, and their Boxer, Baxter. He is working on his fifth and sixth books, These Bloody Games We Play and Becoming Ally Winter. Stay tuned; there is more coming down the pike. For more information about this author, please see www.woffordleejones.com.
PAYBACK
by
Wofford Lee Jones
“Wanna go do something outside?”
Danny eyed his sister curiously. What Marcy was asking was way out of her norm. She loathed him and was only cordial when the family was present.
“You want to do something with me?”
“I asked you, didn’t I?”
He gave her a look that said that proves nothing.
Marcy relented, “Look, I know I got mad at you earlier. But I’m over that now. Let’s get out into the sunshine.”
Danny rolled up into a sitting position and started putting on his shoes that were peeking out from under his bed. “And do what?”
“We can play Hide and Seek, Badminton, or Croquet?”
“You can’t play Hide and Seek in the daytime. That’s dumb.”
“Whatever, Danny, I gave three options. You can just say you don’t want to play Hide and Seek, then we’ll be down to the other two. Just pick one of them.”
“Croquet, maybe?”
“Wow, don’t be so excited about it.”
They walked out to the area where their dad had already set up the metal loops for the family reunion happening tomorrow. The grass was mowed at the right height for the croquet balls to roll perfectly without being thrown off course by uneven grass or random sticks knocking them off course. Everything was in order.
Danny was still leery of his sister and her intentions, but he quickly forgot about all that as their game progressed.
“Shit!” Marcy yelled after she struck the ball a little too hard.
The ball rolled beyond the freshly cut grass, under the shrubbery, and into the woods beyond.
“I’ll get it!” Danny yelled and shot off after it.
It took him a few seconds to locate where it had rolled but then found where it had stopped. “Got it!” he yelled, then stood and turned to see Marcy standing there in mid-swing, her croquet mallet inbound to his face. Half of him froze in fear that Marcy had followed him into the woods, the other half only had time to register that he wasn’t going to be able to dodge her swing.
When Danny came too, he heard a hammering like that of someone driving a tent stake into the ground. He looked around as best he could but found his arms and legs were in a spread-eagle fashion. Even worse was that he couldn’t move any of his limbs. Searching for the reason, he saw that one arm was pinned down by way of a croquet loop. It wasn’t in the rounded shape he was used to seeing because of how badly it had been pounded on. An adrenaline spike of fear entered his body. He lifted his head enough to look down the length of his body to see Marcy hammering a fourth croquet loop that was around his ankle into the ground.
“What are you doing?”
Marcy’s eyes flashed over at him. That old familiar hate was back. It was that evil-intent gaze that always scared him. She said, “I’m teaching you a lesson.”
“I said I was sorry.”
“You’re only sorry because I found out you went blabbing to mommy and daddy about it. She held the mallet up. “You’re going to learn you get hurt a lot when you stick your nose in other people’s business.”
“Stop, Marcy! Let me go!” His voice was scaling upward into an out-of-control whine.
Marcy hated that sound.
“They told us—OH!” Danny jerked as best he could under his new restraints as a stinging sensation came to him on his lower back.
“They told us what, Danny?”
Danny’s head was swiveling in numerous directions. He was waiting, hoping, and praying the sensation wouldn’t repeat itself. Then he saw them.
A reddish-brown ant scurried across his shirt, then three more trundled across his stomach in the opposite direction. Another movement on his arm. He whipped his head in that direction and saw about eight dull red ants scurrying along, tickling his arm.
“Marcy, get me up,” he hissed. “Please, get me up.”
“Not until you’ve learned your lesson.”
“GET ME UP! GET ME UP!” He snapped. His voice had taken on a shrill panic like that of a madman. “There’s ants all over me.”
A little initial panic shot through Marcy. She moved to hook the mallet handle under the loops and pry them out of the ground but paused to take in what she was witnessing.
“Shit!” Danny said again and sucked air between his teeth as the new bite. His body twitched to the side like he was going to roll over but his restraints kept him from getting too far.
Marcy’s eyes widened at the horror under his back. The ground had erupted and there was a flurry of activity. The jerking Danny was doing was upsetting the ground, dislodging them from their underground home. She took a step away, only because she didn’t want to get covered in the same manner.
Marcy had only planned to intimidate him with the mallet, maybe hit him a few times on the soft, fleshy part of his leg or arm, but this was so much better. She couldn’t believe her luck.
In the same way that dominos fall, a few at a time, then move into a section where they fan out, the ant's bites and stings started small, but as Danny cried, squirmed, and fought against his bonds, an eruption of fire multiplied in a wave over his whole body.
Between his ragged screams, he heard the incessant crawling and chittering of the marching ant horde as they traipsed across his ears and claimed his body.
“MARCY!” he wailed. “UNDO ME!”
But all Danny saw through the crawling mask constantly shifting over his face, one he was powerless to wipe away, was Marcy standing there staring down at him with an evil grin of contempt that her justice was served and he was paying the right price for tattle-telling on her to their parents.