Z Martin is a creator of short horror stories for one and all. His works have been featured in many different locations such as Join me at the campfire, stroll down the crooked path, and the price of insanity. Audio adaptations of his stories have been featured on the nosleep podcast, indie horror room, and Nova Nocturns YouTube channel. Z enjoys frightening folks a bit to much but hopes to continue doing it for years to come.
Read more of Z Martin right HERE.
THE BEACH
by
Zach Martin
“Blue skies, clean water, and,” Mike squeezed my leg for emphasis. “The hottest babe in the world. What better way to spend our summer vacation?”
I rolled my eyes and pried his hand off.
“Most beautiful babe huh? Is that what you were thinking when you were eye-humping Stephanie?” I flicked my shades down from their perch and stared out the window.
“I told you, babe. I was just trying to read her tattoo.” Mike sighed. “You’re the only girl for me.”
Road noise filled the car as I watched the mile markers flash by. Mike's hand found my thigh again. A loud slap echoed through the car followed by a whispered curse from Mike. My hand stung from how hard I had slapped his.
“Nat, I’m trying here.” He said softly as he waved his hand trying to shake off the sting.
“Try to keep your hands and eyes to yourself.” I huffed.
Trees flashed by. Between the large trunks, the glitter of sunlight bounced off the still water. The forest thinned giving way to the golden sand Mike had promised. Cars lined the natural parking area for as far as I could see.
“I thought you said this place was secluded?” I questioned.
“It was.” Mike leaned forward trying to find a spot. “There aren’t many people here, probably out fishing or walking around.”
He inched the car forward into a narrow spot between two SUVs. The smell hit me through the closed window. I gagged as I pulled my shirt up to cover my nose. Dead fish, baking under the sun. Flies swarmed the car door as Mike put it in park.
“Jesus, Mike,” I retched. “Is this seriously your idea of a romantic date?”
I threw open the car door swatting at the horde of flies. Mike fought his way through the swarm gathering up our belongings from the trunk. I walked ahead to the sand hoping the smell would dissipate. The lake breeze blew in bringing with it the smell of honeysuckle and pine. Mike stopped beside me awkwardly brushing off the flies that had clung to him.
“Smelled like something died in the car next to us.” He muttered. “At least it smells better over here.”
Mike eyed the beach for a minute before heading off to a deserted area. I scanned the sand taking in all the umbrellas and towels laid out on the shore. The umbrellas and towels must have been left out by park services. Very few of the spots were occupied.
The sound of digging reached my ears. Two little boys, skin reddened by too much sun, were covering up an older gentleman with sand. I wandered over to Mike as he was finishing setting up our spot. He passed me the sunscreen as he rifled through the bag.
“Wouldn’t want you to get burnt.” He muttered. “The water’s so calm, no one’s swimming, not even a boat.”
He stared off into the distance as the waves lapped against the shore. I pointed over to the two little boys.
“Too busy burying Grandpa to swim,” I stated. smearing the lotion over my arm.
Mike smiled at the Kodak moment and peeled his shirt off.
“More water for me then!” He raced off to the water breaking the calmness of the day with his carelessness. The two boys turned their heads to watch him. I could hear their squeals of delight before they turned their attention back to their project.
Mike waved for me to join him. I waved back and dusted off the towel, the drive and the fighting had taken their toll on me. I lay there soaking in the warmth of the sun while the metronome of the waves pulled me into sleep.
Voices nearby pulled me from my sleep.
“He’s hungry.”
“Yes very hungry.”
“Father will be happy with us.”
“Yes, yes so happy.”
I squinted through my sunglasses trying to find the source of the voices without moving too much. Mike was laying next to me covered in sand up to his neck. The two boys were slowly and methodically covering him and patting the sand down.
“Father will be proud.” One boy chuckled.
“So proud.” The other responded.
“Doesn’t like the head.”
“Father hates the head.”
“The eyes go POP!”
“POP, POP, POP.” A mockery of a laugh echoed across the beach.
“We like the head.”
“Yes, we do.”
“We like the POP.”
“POP, POP, POP!”
The ground beneath me rolled and shifted. The boys stopped moving and tilted their heads in unison. After a few moments, they lowered their heads and turned to me. Eye stalks protruded from where eyes should have been. They bobbed up and down looking me over as crablike mouths worked up and down.
Scarlett pincers inches toward my face and removed my glasses. I squeezed my eyes closed as the meager protection left me.
“Is it asleep?”
“No.”
“Father won’t eat it.”
“Why?”
The ground rolled below me again threatening to throw me off the towel.
“No meat.”
“All bones.”
A low growl echoed out from below vibrating the ground.
“We eat?”
“We eat!”
“Father says we can.”
“Father doesn’t like the POP of their eyes.”
“We do.”
“POP, POP, POP!”
The ground shifted again followed by a muffled crack from where Mike lay buried. A sharp prick in my neck made me squirm away from the two grotesque creatures. A thin needle dripped clear liquid from the center of its pincer. I tried to scream but found my mouth wouldn’t open.
“No fighting.”
“Can’t get the POP if you fight.”
“We like the POP!”