Della’s Birthday: A Tale of Horror

“What the hell do you want this time, Minigan?” an ungrateful Della grumbled when she walked into the dark room. For a brief second, a flash of lightning from the roaring storm outside  illuminated the room, and for that second, I could see her face clearly. Her eyes were squinted with suspicion, as if that was going to help her see into my head. Foolish girl, she should’ve known that I was prepared for such mental attacks. That’s why I was wearing the foil hat.

“Hello Della” I said as creepily as I could.

She didn’t respond, but glared at me and let the white noise from the rain fill the void of silence from her lack of words. After the few seconds of tense silence between the two of us, she added harshly, “And why are you naked in my living room?”

Oh, and also that. But don’t worry, my hand was covering up, well, mostly everything.

“Oh God, are you here to rape me?” She asked.

“Wha- NO!” I cried, “What kind of monster do you think I am?”

“Do I really need to answer that?”

“No, please don’t,” I replied. There was another flash of lightning and an explosion of thunder. The winds picked up and made the entire house creak as it fought against the gusts. “I’m here to celebrate your birthday!” I exclaimed, trying to ease the newly formed tension.

“Those six words have never been more terrifying to me than they are right now.”

“Hey honey,” Della’s husband, Matt, began as he walked in. He immediately stopped once saw me sitting on his couch and then continued with the question, “What in the flying hell is going on here?!?”

“I’m going to celebrate Della’s Birthday with you guys!” I answered brightly.

“My birthday was last week.”

“I know that,” I replied, “but it snuck up on me so I had to wait until today to celebrate it with you.”

“But why are you naked?” Matt asked, clearly jealous of my awesome body.

“To keep Della distracted enough so that she cannot read my mind.”

“Then what’s the foil hat for?” Della queried.

“It’s another preventative measure to keep you from reading my mind,” I explained.

“You know when I said that we were mentally connected THREE DAMN YEARS AGO, I was only joking around, right?” Della asked, with some pity.

“Yeah, OK,” I scoffed, “You say that so that I will let my guard down and then you’ll invade my mind, make me eat garbage and then steal an elephant. I know your little games, you vile temptress. You just want my treasures, the ones in and outside of my head.”

“First of all, the eating garbage and stealing an elephant was all your idea. Don’t you dare try to blame that on me. Secondly, I doubt you have any treasure in that waste of neurons you call a brain. And finally, I cannot imagine there is anything you have that I would ever want.”

“Oh, yeah?” I shouted as I jumped to my feet. I then pressed my bare ass against the back cushion of the couch and began to slowly drag it up and down. I stared directly into their eyes as I cried wildly, “How about now, Della, now do I have something you want?! Huh?!”

“No because now all I want is for you to stop rubbing your ass on my couch!” She yelled. Even through the dark I could tell that she had tears in her eyes. Man, I’m just so bad at celebrating friends’ birthdays. I promptly stopped rubbing my buttocks on her furniture and sat back down. She took a deep breath and then asked, “How was that supposed to make me want whatever it is you want me to want, anyway?”

I paused for a moment to gather my many well thought out intentions and then replied, “I dunno. I guess I just figured it would work. Did it?”

“NO!” Della and Matt said in unison.

Offended, I retorted “Fine. Well I guess I’ll just put my pants back on and we can get to your birthday surprise.”

“Yes,” Della sighed with bitchy relief, “Let’s do that.”

I grumbled to myself as I rerobed, and reached over the couch for my gift to Della. The wind was picking up, and the hard tapping on the roof assured us that the hail the weatherman had promised had arrived.  Another lightning strike cracked the sky and briefly broke the dense black of the night. With some effort and careful balance, I lifted her present up from behind the couch and placed it on the coffee table in front of me.

Neither Della nor Matt spoke, clearly in awe of my awesome gift. It was a cake- but not just any cake- it’s the most beautiful and perfect cake ever created by man’s imperfect hands. It was a star shaped tower with five tiers. The icing was a golden yellow with silver fondit stars arranged in a complex wave pattern. Trailing each star was a light dusting of a glittery substance which I assured them was edible. When another strike of lightning illuminated the room, the cake’s decorations shimmered and dazzled those of us lucky enough to witness it.

“Who did you steal that from,” Della snapped, completely ruining the moment, the bitch.

“No one!” I shouted over the booming thunder, “I made it with my bare hands! I slaved for you!”

“I don’t believe you,” that awful woman said coldly, “You must’ve stolen it from someone.”

“NO!” I cried as I held the palms of my hands out to her, “These hands! These hands held the whip that I used to encourage a slave to make this cake. It was tough, grueling work, but I struggled through it for you, Della!”

“So that whole, ‘I slaved’ part…”

“Yes,” I replied frankly, “That was a pun.”

“You’re a terrible person.”

“A terrible person that brought you the greatest cake ever!” I exclaimed as the wind howled outside the window, “Now who wants a slice?”

I pulled out my trusty machete and was about carefully carve into the cake when Matt suggested that he go get a “proper knife” for cutting the cake. As he left the living room, he tried flicking the light switch on, but it didn’t work.

“The power must be out,” he said rather stupidly. It’s not like the light switch just decided to not work that day.

“Must be,” I decided to say instead of, “No fucking shit.”

He hurried back with some candles, a lighter, some plates and forks, and a less manly knife. Over the pounding rain, and the howling wind, you could hear the snapping of nearby tree branches. There was a loud bang, and then the wind flooded the house. It flew down the hallway, picking up an old newspaper, and carried it, sheet by sheet, into the living room where it swirled over us like a vortex of bad news and poorly written editorials. Matt ran back out of the room and slammed the front door closed. The wind died, and the sheets of newspaper wafted down to the floor.

“That was weird,” Matt quipped as he reentered the living room, “I remember locking the door when we came in.”

“C’mon,” Della said, sounding exhausted, “Let’s just get this over with.”

Matt (not trusting me with the lighter) lit the candles and we sang for Della. I made sure that I snuck in as many curse words as I could. Della managed to blow out all of the candles with one breath, which shouldn’t have surprised me what with that big, gaping mouth of hers. She then sliced the cake and handed a piece to Matt and me. She then took a piece for herself. Then, they both waited.  So did I. We stared at one another, not saying a word, as the storm raged on outside.

Finally, Matt asked, “Aren’t you going to try the cake that your slave made for you, Minigan?”

“It’s impolite to eat before the birthday girl,” I replied merrily.

Della and Matt had a grim looks plastered on their faces. Clearly they didn’t trust me, the jerks.

“Fine,” I said, “I’ll take the first bite. But I swear I didn’t do anything to the cake.”

I took a bite. Sweet diabetic fuck, the cake was delicious. The cake itself was a dense chocolate chocolate chip, but there pieces of strawberry baked into it too. The icing was a standard buttercream, but it also had the light taste of strawberries added to it too. Within seconds, I was scarfing down my slice of cake and ready for another. More confident, Matt and Della tried their pieces, and then began to shovel the dessert into their mouths like a couple of savages.

We each took a second piece. And then a third. I eventually took a fourth, and by the time I had finished that piece, we were leaning back in our seats with no desire to move.

“Ok, Minigan,” Della said as she stared lazily up at the ceiling, “This officially makes up for half of the horrible things you’ve ever done.”

“Yep,” I murmured as I let the heavy cake settle in my stomach. I was about to let myself drift into a sugar induced coma when the entire house began to shake.

I sat up, as did Della and Matt. I looked out the widow behind me, and realized that the storm had become “end of days” bad.  The wind picked up from a howl to a roar, and you could see it uprooting trees like they were weeds in loose soil. Lightning was flashing so often that was as if someone turned on a strobe light right outside the window. The pounding rain sounded like thousands of fists punching the room and the siding of the old house, which creaked like it was about to fall apart any second. And while I could figure out what was causing all that stuff, I couldn’t figure out an explanation for the walls shaking.

Apparently, neither could Matt or Della because in unison, they said, “What the hell is going on?!”

“Is that something that all married couples do, or are you two just especially creepy?” I asked.

Before they could answer (or probably ask what the hell I was talking about) a faint hissing started from behind the wall. The shaking and the hissing grew louder, and before long, it became obvious that both were coming from within the walls themselves. The banging on the inside of the walls grew to be so strong that dust started to fall from the newly formed cracks in the ceiling.

And that’s when the snakes started pouring into the room… from the walls.

Della shrieked in terror as the cracks in the drywall spread apart and snakes started pouring in like a scaly, hissing waterfall.

“You did this,” Della shouted as she jumped onto her chair, not noticing the crack above her head. The crack spread and dumped dozens of the limbless creatures onto her unsuspecting head. Della thrashed her head around, trying in vain to remove the serpents from her hair.

“How would I have done this, Della?” I shouted back at her.

“You put some of your crazy hallucinogenic drugs into the cake you dick!” she snapped once she got the last snake out of her hair. “You’re probably controlling this whole situation!”

“I swear I’m not!” I cried, “I have no clue what’s going on right now, I promise!”

The last snake slithered out of the hole in the wall, but the banging had become deafening. It was the pipes. You could see them banging against both sides of the wall, cracking the dry wall more and more with each hit. Then, all at once, the pipes cracked and started spraying sewage onto the living room. Almost instantly, the floor was covered and the stench assaulted our nostrils

All three of us screamed as much as our lungs would allow, and headed for the hall. We were fighting over who would get through the doorway first when the banging and sewage spraying stopped, and was replaced with a weird bubbling sound. Slowly, we turned around, and what we saw will probably haunt Della and Matt for years to come. From the lake of sewage that used to be their living room floor, reached a long and strong looking arm, made entirely out of shit. We stood there, petrified, as we watched the arm grow a shoulder, and then a torso, and then another arm, and then legs, and finally a head. The shit creature stood before us, standing at a good eight feet tall, and roared at us.

“Fuck this!” I screamed as I squeezed past Della and Matt and ran into the hall. They immediately followed, and we raced towards the front door. With one powerful kick, I blasted the door off its hinges and I sprinted out into the violent storm, screaming like a manly little girl. Della and Matt Followed.

Shielding my eyes from the rain’s vicious assault, I ran as fast as I could through the rising water. I heard Della and Matt shout things from behind me, but my own survival out ranks my listening capabilities, especially when it comes to cruddy friends that blame things on me. Unfortunately for me, they somehow caught up with me.

“What the hell was that about, Minigan?!” Della ask-screamed.

“I don’t fucking know!” I scream-screamed back.

“Well, this shit all started when we ate the cake you brought,” Della snapped, “What did you put in the cake?”

“I DIDN’T PUT ANYTHING IN THE GODDAMN CAKE!” I roared, “If I survive this, I promise to ask my gypsy slave what he added to it, but I’m still going to have to survive this ordeal with you two dicks first.”

“Wait,” Della said as she grabbed me by the shoulder and pulled be back to face them, “You enslaved a gypsy?”

“Well, who was I going to enslave? A black guy? That’s kind of illegal, Della.”

“I’m pretty sure enslaving anyone is illegal,” Matt added.

“Ooh,” I retorted as I threw my hands up in the air defensively, “Look at the cop lecturing me on what’s legal.”

“But why would you choose a gypsy?” Della asked, “You know they can curse you right?”

“What?!” I cried, “Oh, I’m going to fuck that guy up when I get back home.”

A faint scream made all three of us look back at Della’s now battered looking house.

“Hannah!” Della gasped, “Oh my God. We left her in there with that thing!”

Dell and Matt turned around and hurriedly sloshed through the water back to the house.

Staying far away from that doomed building, I called, “Just leave her! It isn’t worth it!”

“But it’s my sister!” I heard Della reply foolishly.

“I’ll buy you a new one!” I yelled back.

Impressively, this stopped the normally foolish Della. She turned back to face me, and with a concerned face, she asked, “Why do you always treat other humans as objects?”

“Hu-mons aren’t objects?”

She rolled her eyes (what a bitch) and headed back to the house. She and Matt entered, and I stood there, one hundred yards from what was possibly the gates of Hell, when I realized that I was all alone. Before I knew it, I was sprinting back to the house, thinking to myself, they’ll probably need my help anyway. I am  the only one who has fought immortal monsters before.

I kicked the front door open again (I had to prop it back up in the doorway first- I wanted to make an entrance) and sprinted back into the living room, where the sewage monster had Della, Matt, and Hannah cornered. The wall of stench nearly knocked me out, but through my own heroic fortitude, I muscled through the smell and grabbed my abandoned machete.

I stepped up behind the monster, plunged the machete through its back and muttered, “Eat shit and die.” Then, with both hands, I pulled my blade up, slicing the monster in half.

For a second, the monster stood there as if what I had done had no effect on him. But then, it fell to the ground and melted back into a pool of pooey filth water. The rain stopped pounding. The lightning stopped flashing. The wind stopped roaring. When the lights came back on, the four of us finally caught our first glimpse of the damage done to the living room. There were holes in the walls and ceiling large enough to fit a midget through. Various pipes- I doubt that all of them were for sewage- stuck out from those holes. The floor was littered with thousands of poo covered snake corpses, and hundreds more terrified snakes had gathered on the various pieces of furniture.

“My house is ruined!” Della cried.

“Yeah,” I replied as I scratched the back of my head, “My bad.”

“I’m never going to get the smell of shit out of the carpet,” she muttered, tears pouring out of her eyes and down her rain and poo water covered cheeks.”

“I know Della, I know,” I cooed to her, “And I know that this Birthday gift to you was kind of a bust…”

“KIND OF?!?!”

“But I have an idea that might make you feel better,” I continued as if I hadn’t been so rudely interrupted.

“Nothing will ever make me feel better, Minigan!”

With a fiendish little grin, I replied, “Not even force feeding the rest of the cursed cake to my gypsy slave?”

Immediately, she stopped crying. She looked right at me. Her eyes were still red and puffy, but the glimmer behind them told me she liked what she heard.

“That would actually make me feel better,” she answered, and for the first time ever, I had respect for her.

“Awesome!” I exclaimed, “Now Matt, load that cake into my car. I say it’s about time we serve some payback to a goddamn two timing, curse happy, gypsy slave.”


1 Comment

  1. […] Then, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a woman step off the gravel parking lot and head directly for them in the field. Minigan looked towards her and immediately recognized her. She was tall, very pregnant, and wore a bandana around her head. It was Della. […]

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