The Vine (Horror)
Jaron Howard (U.S.)
“Close your eyes and stay right there, I have a surprise for you,” Mark said.
“A Surprise for me, you shouldn’t have!” Rachel replied.
A glowing smile lit up her face, further illuminating her radiant beauty. She snapped her eyes shut and stood rooted to the spot eagerly awaiting the surprise. Mark reached around the corner and wrapped his fingers around the base of a small terracotta pot housing a well-manicured succulent, one lone vine spilling over the side, swinging softly back and forth with every subtle motion.
“Hold out your hands,” Mark directed, placing the earthenware into her outstretched palms. The vine gracefully swung towards Rachel’s hand until it softly kissed her skin, resting on the outside of her thumb.
“Is this what I think it is?” Rachel asked.
“Why don’t you open your eyes and see for yourself.” Mark responded with a loving smile on his face.
“I love it!” Rachel screamed. “I know exactly where to put it! Thank you, thank you, thank you!”
She set the plant on the counter and threw herself at Mark, and wrapped him in a tight, loving embrace.
“I’m so happy you like it,” Mark said. “The owner of the plant store had it on clearance and I know how green your thumb has gotten in the last year, so I had to get it for you. He said we should water it as soon as possible though? Something about the roots? I can’t remember now.”
“The soil is looking a little dry, I’ll water it right now. Perfect chance to use my new mini watering can” Rachel responded. She walked into the kitchen, reached under the sink, and grabbed her cute pink watering device. After filling it with fresh, distilled water, she returned to the liquid deprived soil containing her newest ward.
“Drink up me ‘earties, Yo Ho,” she said, in her best Jack Sparrow accent, slowly pouring the water into the earth. The dirt happily drank up every drop in the watering can, so much so that Rachel filled it back up two more times before the dirt turned the deep brown color of well hydrated soil.
“Is that normal for new plants?” Mark asked.
“None that I’ve had, but hey, first time for everything,” Rachel said.
“Fair enough. That was just part one of your surprise by the way. I booked us a table at that new Italian place,” Mark said. “Grab your coat, I’m starving!”
“Thank god, my stomachs been rumbling for the past hour!” Rachel replied. Hurriedly rushing to grab her coat “You’re driving.”
“By the way, what store did you buy the plant from? The cute little store with the dog or the bigger greenhouse store on main?” Rachel asked.
“Neither. A small one on the way home from work. I don’t remember seeing it before a couple days ago, must have just opened. We can drive past it on the way to the restaurant. They are probably closed but you could swing by tomorrow,” Mark said.
“Only if we have time,” she responded, grabbing his hand as they walked out the door. “I love you.”
“I love you too, now let’s eat!” he said, as they walked out the door neither of them noticing the small 1-inch vine, wrapping itself around the table leg, slowly creeping towards the floor.
The stillness of the night is disturbed by the soft crunch of gravel underneath the tires of Mike’s bright yellow jeep. Lightly applying the brake, Mike slowed the car to a crawl and thumbed the garage door opener.
No response.
“That’s odd, the door is brand new,” Mike mused.
“Maybe you didn’t hit it hard enough?” Rachel asked.
Mike unhooked the button from the top of the car’s sun visor, determined to open the door. He firmly and deliberately pressed the button, and then pushed it again for good measure.
No response.
“What a piece of crap. I’ll call the installers first thing in the morning,” Mike Fumed. “I’ll go and open it from the inside, and then you can drive the car in.”
“Ok but go fast, I wanna get you into the bedroom,” she said with a sly look.
“Fast as lightning baby,” Mike said before making a vroom sound, opening the car door and stepping out, determination pushing his legs forwards. Reaching into the pocket of his sports coat, Mike grabbed the keys, inserted them into the lock, and walked into the darkness of the house they had shared for five years. Rachel couldn’t help but notice his posture almost oozing charisma. Although they had been married for years, she gladly fell deeper and deeper in love with this goofy man. Awash in the glow of affection she eagerly waited for him to return. She watched him close the door behind him and then realized how alone she was in the driveway. She turned the dial of the radio to break the silence. Immediately the car was filled with the sound of a radio host that, in Rachel’s opinion, is not as funny as he thinks he is. After some drivel about a local bar’s specials and a middle school level joke degrading woman, “Welcome to the Jungle” by Guns and Roses started playing.
“Oh hell yeah,” Rachel said, bobbing her head and throwing up the rock and roll devil horns. Her soul belonged to Hair Bands and Heavy Metal, but her body belonged to corporate America. She sang every word on the track alongside Axl Rose, while she read through her email.
“What’s taking Mike so long?” Rachel wondered. Knowing that Mike has a small bladder he probably had to stop and pee as soon as he got in. I’ll give him a couple more minutes, he is self conscious about it and I’d hate to make it worse after such a nice evening.
The host came on again and told another joke degrading women before playing, “Every Rose Has its Thorn” by Poison. What the hell’s wrong with these guys? If there was another rock station she would never turn this one on again. After dueting with Bret Michaels (her childhood crush) and feeling every emotion of this touching ballad, she had had enough waiting. The host returned primed for another idiotic joke.
“Ok Mike you’ve had time to pee I’m coming in,” Rachel said to herself. Maybe I don’t want to get him into the bedroom as badly as I thought. She snatched the keys out of the ignition, silencing the engine, and thankfully the irksome voice of the misogynistic host. Opening the door she stepped out, shoes sliding a bit in the gravel. She regained her balance, and with an air of annoyance, she walked toward the front door. She lifted her fist to hammer on the door when she realized it was not fully closed. A slight crack letting in beams of light from the porch light providing the only source of light in an otherwise dark setting.
“He can’t shut the door or turn on a light? What am I going to do with this man?” she mused to herself. She pushed open the door, kicked off her shoes, and called out to her vanished husband.
“MIKE! If you jump out and scare me, I’m going to kill you! You’ll sleep on the couch tonight!”
The muffled sound of her feet plodding across the carpet was only broken by the soft plop punctuating the darkness. “I’m gonna find you Mike and when I do, you’re in some serious trouble!” she yelled.
Plop.
The unnatural darkness of the room gets more apparent the closer she gets to the kitchen.
No Response. Plop.
“Mike, I’m serious, get the hell out here.”
No Response. Plop.
Rachel reached around the corner grasping for the light switch, feeling nothing but the wall and an unnatural breeze on her hand. Finding the switch, she flicks it only to be rewarded with continued darkness.
“MIKE, this isn’t funny, I’m starting to get scared!” she yelled walking into the kitchen, where her foot immediately encounters a liquid on the floor. Crashing hard on her back Rachel felt shooting agony roll down her spine. Knives of pain in each vertebrae held her hostage to the ground. I need light, I can’t keep stumbling around. Reaching into her pocket she pulled out her phone, punched in the unlock code, and turned on her flashlight and immediately let out a blood-curdling scream. A thick bed of leaves and vines covered the entire ceiling, intertwining itself in the light fixtures and furniture, creating an impenetrable canopy. As her eyes adjusted to the light, Rachel found the previously unknown source of the liquid. Mike was held taut to the ceiling, vines constricting his body in a bone crushing vice, and slowly slithering down his throat. His deceased eyes fixed in a thousand-yard stare, as blood trickled from his mouth, down the vines, slowly building up before softly dropping to the floor.
“Oh god!” Rachel screamed. Ignoring the pain in her spine, she stood up and bolted towards the door, only to have a rapid descent towards the floor as a vine reaches out and entwines her feet. Smashing her face onto the floor she felt her nose shatter and the gush of blood wash down her face. The vine continued to wrap itself around her legs as she tore at her captor.
“Help,” she screamed towards the open door, only to have it slammed by a rapidly growing vine.
She wrenched herself free and started to run down the hall, feeling the leafy growth on her feet, grasping at her ankles. Halfway down the hall a door is thrown open, and a waiting vine grabbed her with tremendous force, slamming her into the wall and knocking the wind out of her lungs. Gasping for air she reached out for even the smallest anchor point, only to be ripped into the garage, ribs cracking under the compression of the vine. Her fingernails tore at the vines and her legs thrashing lead to minimal results as she was slowly consumed by the ravenous vines. The last sight of her desperate fear-stricken eyes were of the vines forcing their way under the garage door. Fresh air kisses her exposed thumb before the darkness consumed her.