It was a cloudy day, the leaves shaking in the wind. Justin was walking his dog down the sidewalk. He could see his friend, David down the street.
" Hi Justin."he called.
Stopping, Justin called back, " Hey Dave."
As they talked, Tuck-Justin's black and white Yorkie took off down the road. Swearing at himself for not putting Tuck on a leash, Justin ran into the woods after his mutt.
Tuck stopped at a pile of wood, and finding a space to squeeze, he yelped, and ran. Not being as small as Tuck was, Justin was forced to climb over the pile. As he climbed to the bottom, he looked around, then Justin heard a branch break. "ARRRRGG" He heard something growl, then CRACK. Silence. The bushes moved, then again. Backing up into a rotting tree, Justin fell to his backside. Then out of the bushed hoped . . . Tuck. "TUCK!!!" Justin screamed. He thought that Tuck was going to leap into his arms like a Kangaroo, but Justin was left hanging. Tuck dashed away. " Why does he keep running?" he thought, confused. Stumbling through the thicket, the tennageer came through just in time to see Tuck disappear into the old widower's mansion.
Three years ago, Old Widower Johnny died, his wife was gone twenty years before. In his grief of his lost wife, he collected old Jack in the Boxes, his house was full of them. When he died, no one wanted to clean out his mansion, so there they stayed.
Staring at the old, dark house, rain fell, the sky darkened. " It's now or never" Justin thought. Stepping through the boarded windows, he looked around. Pulling out his flashlight that he kept in his pocket, Justin tested the floor. Making sure it was sturdy, he called "Tuck?" Nothing. He walked to the living room, scared to see what was inside, he has always had a fear of clowns. Why people thought it was a good idea to put them in a box and sell them, just gave him the creeps. Searching, Justin found no Jack in Boxes, making his fear settle a little, but not a lot. Walking to the kitchen, a overpowering stench came over Justin. Covering his nose with his damp sleeve, Justin entered.
Sitting on the cutting board, was a piece of old, spoiled meat. Sitting by it, to his horror, was a nine-inch butcher's knife. On it was fresh coat blood. Starring, Justin realized that this house has been abandoned for years, no one would have been cooking in this kitchen. He started to backup, the floor fell out from under him. Unable to stop himself from falling, Justin screamed. Then SMACK. His head hit something. What did he hit? Justin kept falling and hitting. All of a sudden, Justin stopped, smacking once more, it was over. Looking up, he saw that he was in the basement, the stairs behind him. Now his head was spinning, not thinking about just leaving Tuck, Justin staggered through the basement.
Taking one room at a time, he kept looking for Tuck. ¨Tuck?" he called, ducking his head into a room. "Where are you Tuck?¨ his voice shaking so bad, the words stumbled out. In the last room of the basement, he found a secret spiral staircase leading up. Not wanting to face the bloody knife and smell again to get upstairs, Justin climbed. Turning up and up, he finally reached the landing. Justin was in the old man's bedroom. The windows thick with dust, curtains ripped. Out the windows was the view of the front yard, he realized that he was on the top floor of the house. If Justin had looked behind him, the sight would have sent him running. Written on the wall, the wall that had the stair case opening, was two, frightful words. They were written in black crayon, the letters were big and messy, as a child's would be. They read:
The floor was getting very loud, the old rotting boards grieving at his weight. Diving into a random room- for fear of the floor giving out- Justin found himself in the playroom. As he scanned the room, he was happy that he wasn't one of the old man Johnny's grandkids. The playroom was full of ancient toys, most of the paint peeling off. The room felt as if it wanted to be happy and bright, but the sun never let it happen. Taking the light away, this area was damp and dark. What he failed to notice, was a single, closed, Jack in the Box, sliding towards him. Every once in awhile, it would find a dark corner to stop. Finally leaving, seeing no interest in the boy.
At the same time, Justin had crossed the room and was opening the doors. There in the corner of the closet, was Tuck! "Tuck!!!!" He screamed. Not realizing the state of his pet, he babbled on to his dog. "Come on we have to get out of here, this place gives me the creeps. I think that someone is here, that's not supposed to be." Then finally getting a good look at his dog, he saw the glowing yellow eyes. Tucks teeth came out, making Justin backup. Tripping over an abandoned doll, he fell to the floor, onto his back. A crackled voice came through to his ear, "Someone that not suppose to be here, like you!!! Ha ha." The laugh sent a shiver down his spine. Two small, child like hands came and wrapped a round his neck, pulling the air in his lungs. Prying the fingers loose from his neck, he turned. He saw that there was nothing there. Nothing but a box. And a song. The handle on the box was turning ever so slowly, as a hand would turn it, but there was no hand turning this handle. Justin began to slide away on his back, fear over powering him. He didn't care where he slid to, anywhere but where that box was. That container would not leave him, it skid on the floor with him.
When Justin's hand had felt the wall, he knew there was nowhere to go. He cowered against the wall sitting up, looking the devil in the face. This wasn't the devil, he would soon find out, but he would wish it was. Ever so slowly, the handle was turning still. The box was taking it's time, then the song began. With the voice of a slow, crackly jester or of a cold-blooded murderer, Justin couldn't decide.
I killed him
A toy can reach it's limits
So Johnny's gone now
I've taken my revenge.
You've disturbed me
Same will happen
As the air echoed with the last words, the song stopped. So did Justin's heart. Everything slowed down, he heard the ding of the bell, the sign that the Jack in the Box was opening. Then time went back to normal, as the Jack in the Box pop, and said in his long, whispery voice, " Where's Justin." and leaped towards Justin, the nine-inch, butchers knife in his hand.
Justin woke with a start, he realized that it had been all a dream. And he was here safe in bed, sitting up he reached for Tuck. Finding his favorite ball of fluff on the ground next to his bed, he picked it up. He felt the squishy fur, turning on his lamp. Justin saw that there was blood pouring out of his lifeless dog. Shocked, Justin threw Tuck to the end of his bed. There, out of the corner of his eye, he could see a box. Sliding towards him, where a small voice said," I found Justin". DING!!!