There Was A Man Who Did Things To Me As A Child. He Came Back.

My sister’s voice was emotionless and flat, “Tommy said it was ok for you to come over for lunch, just like we planned.”

“What did he do to you?” I hissed.

Her voice never changed, “He’s feeding the twins, everything is ok.”

“Steph-” I started but she hung up.

I rose and rushed to the bathroom, splashing water over my face. The rum seemed to have no affect on me, my eyes meeting my face in the mirror with surprising clarity. But that did nothing to dilute the fear that plagued my mind.

I raced out of my apartment and into my car. As I drove, I found myself becoming sick. Claws dug into my memory and uprooted the past horrors I had experienced at the hands of Tommy. I couldn’t let Jack and Jill go through that. I couldn’t let Stephanie watch her family slowly get tore apart.

A couple minutes later and I was parking in front of her house. I anxiously got out of the car and went to the front door where I knocked.

Tommy answered, a baby in each arm.

“Hello Matt. Good to see you at a more appropriate hour. Come on in.”

Just seeing him touch the children made my skin crawl and my stomach clench, but I shut my mouth and said nothing. I walked past him and he kicked the door shut behind me, bouncing the babies in his arms and beaming down at them.

“Beautiful children aren’t they?” Tommy said softly, staring down into their faces.

“Where’s my sister?” I asked, a trickle of sweat running down my spine like a ghost.

As if to answer, Stephanie came walking down the stairs. Her skin was pale and dark bags hung from her eyes. There was no sign of physical violence, but I knew that Tommy had other ways to punish people.

“Lunch is ready,” She said, tonelessly, her eyes dead. She walked into the kitchen and began setting food on the table. I followed her and then froze.

Lewis was slumped over the table, breathing heavily. One side of his face was swollen, closing his left eye. Blood leaked from his mouth onto the empty dinner plate before him.
His legs had been broken, his shins and ankles twisting along the sides of the chair at angles that turned my stomach. Upon seeing me, he raised his head, trailing drool and blood from the corners of his mouth.

“Get this monster out of my house,” He whispered to me.

Before I had any chance to respond, Tommy was sweeping in behind me, cooing down at the babies. Stephanie was like a zombie, placing the steaming platters of food before us and then sitting in the chair opposite her bleeding husband.

“Jesus Lewis,” I gasped, “We need to get you some help, come on, I’m taking you to the hospital.”

Tommy looked up at me from the babies, “Matt, sit down and enjoy the food your sister so lovingly made for you. It would be terribly wasteful to ignore such a feast.” As if to lead by example, Tommy took a place at the table, the gurgling, oblivious twins chirping in his arms.

“He needs help, Tommy,” I insisted, terrified of the words coming out of my mouth.

“Don’t be dramatic, Matt.”

I suddenly slammed my hand down on the table, “I’m taking him to the hospital, goddamn it!” Immediately, I regretted my sudden aggression. The gasoline fire in my chest was doused instantly as Tommy’s shining blue eyes met mine.

Wordlessly, Tommy stood and handed Jill to Stephanie who gratefully accepted her daughter. Eyes never leaving me, Tommy took Jack and went to the sink.

He turned on the garbage disposal.

Horror ripped through my brain like a blazing locomotive. The loud whirring of the blades filled the kitchen and choked the fight from me, replacing it with furious caution.

“Get away from there!” Lewis screamed, struggling to stand, but screaming as his broken bones squirmed against his twisted flesh.

Tommy lowered the now crying Jack towards the black mouth of the garbage disposal, his eyes never leaving me.

“It would be a tight squeeze, but I think I could get him to fit,” Tommy said, his voice like the edge of a knife.

I raised a trembling hand, “Stop! Ok! Please, just stop!”

But Tommy kept lowering the baby, its howling face now inches from the opening, “I only need one, Matt. Maybe you need a lesson. Maybe you’ve forgotten how this works.”

Stephanie was clutching Jill, her eyes bulging from her face, tears silently streaming down her cheeks.

“No! No I’ll do whatever you want! Please! Just stop! PLEASE!” I got down on my knees, voice shaking, my own tears of terror pouring from my eyes, “Just don’t hurt the baby! Don’t hurt Jack!”

Tommy’s eyes bore into my skull, examining my words like they were under a microscope. Finally, he turned and switched off the garbage disposal, handing Jack to Stephanie.

I let out a shuddered sigh of relief and shakily got to my feet. Tommy took a seat at the table and pointed for me to do the same. I didn’t hesitate.

“You godless fuck,” Lewis growled, clenching his fists, “I’m going to kill you, I’m going to fucking kill you.”

Tommy turned to him and I saw his jaw clench, “Don’t push me Lewis. It won’t end well.”

“Fuck you,” Lewis spat.

Like lightening, Tommy stood and stepped towards Lewis, sliding his hand into the beaten man’s mouth to grip his upper jaw. Without slowing, Tommy heaved Lewis out of his chair and threw him face first into the refrigerator.

With a dull thud, Lewis’ face erupted in a fountain of blood and shattered teeth as his collided with the hard surface. His slid to the floor, leaving bloody trails in his wake.
Face like smooth stone, Tommy lifted him by the hair and dragged him to the oven. He pulled the door down and shoved Lewis’ head into the crack. Without hesitating, Tommy began to smash his skull between the oven and its door, each blow crunching into his head and splitting the skin.

“Stop it, Tommy! STOP! YOU’RE GOING TO KILL HIM!” I screamed, leaping across the table.

Tommy spun and pointed at the twins, his eyes locked with mine, his voice thundering across the kitchen like a summer storm.


I collapsed in my chair, eyes wide, entire body shaking. Tears poured from my eyes, my lips twisting and quivering to form words but only helpless sobs escaped. The twins were howling and Stephanie clutched them to her chest, weeping, shock washing over her in horrified waves.

I turned away, world rocking, ears filling with screaming and crying as Tommy crushed Lewis’ head with the oven door.

Spittle flew from my lips with each ragged breath I sucked into my lungs, reality bending and darkening.

About the author

Elias Witherow

Elias is a prolific author of horror fiction. His books include The Third Parent, The Black Farm, Return to the Black Farm,and The Worst Kind of Monsters.

“Growing up reading the works of King, admiring the art of Geiger, and knowing fiends like Pinhead left me as a pretty jaded horror fan today. It takes a lot to get the breath to hitch in my throat and the hair on the back of my neck to stand on end.. My fiance is quite similar, so when he eagerly begged me to let him read me a short story about The Black Farm by Elias Witherow, I knew it had to be good… And I was not dissapointed. Elias has a way of painting a picture that you can feel with all your senses and plays the tunes of terror created when our world meets one much more dark and forces you to keep turning the pages hungry for more.” —C. Houser

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