Insanely Deadly Read online

  Insanely Deadly

  Holly Copella

  Copyright © 2013 Holly Copella

  All rights reserved.

  ISBN: 0986441619

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9864416-1-5

  To my grandmother, Myrtle “Nannie” Morris.

  Thank you for introducing me to the horror genre.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  Copella Books

  Cover Artist: Yvonrz

  SelfPubBookCovers.com/Yvonrz

  Printed by CreateSpace, An Amazon.com Company

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE

  This is a work of fiction. Names, character, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Chapter Twenty-five

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Chapter Twenty-eight

  Chapter Twenty-nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Chapter Thirty-two

  Chapter One

  Winter Harbor Island, a small island found just off the coast of Maine, was a renowned summer hotspot for those with wealth and influence. Its limited vacation homes and a single luxury hotel along the sandy shore made it desired by those seeking serenity and isolation. Just one mile inland was the small town of Winter Harbor, a close-knit community of small-town people who knew their neighbors--and their neighbor's business. Mostly every family in town had lived in Winter Harbor for generations. Despite the harsh winters, locals cherished their town and celebrated the end of the summer season. They could once again reclaim their quiet lives free from wealthy tourists. Further inland was miles of desired farmland and majestic woodlands. On the far side of the island, was the less scenic port, which was heavily populated with fishing boats and occupied by mostly locals.

  The crisp, clear night was an obvious reminder that tourist season had ended. The full moon brightened the lush fields and thick forest. The night was peaceful and romantic. A ball of fire suddenly shot through the dark skies and disappeared into the nearby woods. A newer model sedan skidded to a halt on the back road. Dennis Albright, a neatly dressed businessman in his early thirties, got out of the car and looked at the glow within the woods.

  “What the hell--?”

  Dennis hurried into the woods while following the glow. He stopped near charred vegetation and stared at the smoldering meteor within the small crater. Dennis grabbed a stick, stepped carefully into the crater, and poked the meteor. He placed his hand above the baseball-sized rock. When he was certain it produced no heat, he picked it up and studied it. He suddenly yelped and dropped the meteor. A small gash on his palm bled freely. He subconsciously sucked the blood from his hand, shook it, and more gently picked up the rock, avoiding the sharp edge. His boyish grin returned.

  †

  A moderately expensive home was nestled in the middle of nowhere and surrounded by mostly farmland and woods. The nearest neighboring house was barely visible beyond the field. Dennis' sedan pulled up to the well-lit house. Dennis got out of the car, grinned at the meteor he held, and then looked at the gash on his hand. It was now red and swollen. His rare find was overshadowed by the reality that he would need to visit the doctor for a course of antibiotics. Dennis headed into the house, shut the door behind him, and paused within the foyer.

  “Pam! Pam, wait until you see what I found,” he called out while studying the meteor more closely in the light. “You won't believe it.”

  “I'm upstairs, dear,” Pam called back. Her tone turned seductive. “And wait until you see what I have for you!”

  Dennis grinned with a lustful realization, placed the meteor on the hall table, and hurried up the stairs. As he reached the top of the stairs, a masked intruder suddenly appeared and struck him on the head with a tire iron. Dennis fell backwards down the stairs and roughly hit the bottom. The intruder descended the stairs and leaned over Dennis' lifeless body. A young, attractive woman in a sexy, white satin nightgown, Pam Albright, appeared at the top of the stairs. The intruder removed his mask to reveal a handsome man in his mid-thirties, Brian Fitch. Brian looked up at her and appeared pleased.

  “He's dead,” Brian informed her while grinning.

  Pam appeared relieved and slowly walked down the stairs. “What do we do now?”

  Brian hurried up the stairs, met her halfway, and kissed her quickly on the lips. “Just like we planned it. Give me fifteen minutes to get back to the tavern and establish my alibi before you report an intruder,” he said with enthusiasm. “When Sheriff Palmer and his lackeys arrive, you'll tell them you heard a scuffle, and they'll think Dennis surprised an intruder.”

  Pam nodded with apprehension.

  He smiled reassuringly and caressed her face. “Relax, baby. It'll all work out, I promise. I'll leave the door open.”

  Brian kissed her again with more passion. She uncertainly returned the kiss. He glanced over her in the sexy nightgown, groaned lustfully, and then hurried down the stairs and out the door. He left the door open as promised. Pam wrenched her fingers together and stared at Dennis' lifeless body at the bottom of the stairs. It didn't seem as easy as it sounded during the planning stages. She composed herself and hurried back up the steps.

  †

  Pam paced the bedroom and nervously looked at the clock and then her watch. It had only been ten minutes, but it seemed an eternity. She heard movement from downstairs. Had Brian forgotten something and returned? Pam fidgeted with concern and hurried from the bedroom. She cautiously walked along the upstairs hallway and paused at the top of the stairs. She didn't want to look at her dead husband again, but she forced herself to look at the foyer below. Dennis' body was gone! All that remained was a small pool of blood where his body once lie. Alarm swept through her, and, for a moment, she was frozen with fear. She gathered her courage and uncertainly scanned the lower level from her position at the top of the stairs. The front door was now closed. Concern that Dennis may have left the house to get the sheriff suddenly swept over her. She had to be certain.

  “Dennis?” she called out with a soft quiver in her voice.

  There was no response. Pam slowly walked down the stairs in her bare feet and stopped to stare at the blood soaking into the light colored carpet. It was going to leave a nasty stain. She didn't know why she was worrying about that right now. She carefully stepped over the pool of blood and again looked around.

  “Dennis--baby?

  She heard what sounded like someone rummaging through one of the kitchen cupboards. She uncertainly walked along the hall and approached the kitchen. Pam paused in the archway and stared at the glaring, bloody handprint on the once white island counter. The kitchen appeared empty. Where could he have gone? Her eyes strayed to the partia
lly closed laundry room door near the back entrance. He could be in the laundry room tending to his head injury. She nervously walked across the kitchen toward the laundry room and appeared frightened at what she might find. He was supposed to be dead. How had he survived?

  “Dennis?”

  She slowly approached the partially open door and uncertainly reached to push it open. She suddenly felt the presence of someone behind her. Pam hesitated then quickly turned to see Dennis standing behind her with blood streaking his face from the gash on his forehead just above his eye. He had a glazed over look in his eyes. His condition and the fact that he was alive surprised her. She twitched with fear.

  “Oh, my God, Dennis!” He couldn't have known she was involved. If he saw anything, he saw an intruder in a mask. She was safe. Now she had to act the part of the concerned wife. Actually, she was almost relieved he wasn't dead. “What happened?”

  He reached for her with his bloody hand. She now felt sorry for him and for what she'd been an accomplice to. She hurried for the nearby telephone on the wall.

  “We need to call Doc right away.”

  Dennis placed his hand on her shoulder. She glanced back at him. He suddenly bared his teeth with a snarl, lunged for her neck, and tore into her flesh with his teeth. Pam screamed with terror and agony as she forcibly pushed him away, tearing her flesh. He had a large chunk of her flesh between his teeth. Pam screamed while clutching her bleeding neck and stared at her flesh in his mouth. As he attempted to grab her again, she stumbled along the kitchen in an attempt to escape, but she was bleeding profusely. Dennis casually followed her while chewing on her flesh as blood ran down his chin. Pam fell to the floor and weakly tried to pull herself to the laundry room door. She heard him snarl behind her. As she looked back, Dennis dove on top of her. She screamed as his bloodstained teeth came at her face.

  †

  The charming log cabin style, one-story country tavern was located on the lightly traveled back road to town. Being the tavern was one of the least expensive bars on the island; its parking lot was always filled with cars and trucks. The tavern was where most locals ended up in the evenings for social hour and entertainment. The sound of live music pulsated from the building. The tavern interior was tastefully rustic with local flare. Wood and nautical decor was the motif of choice. Local men and women line danced to the loud, upbeat country music. Nearly every table was filled and the bar was crowded, as it was most evenings. Scantily dressed waitresses served beer to the rowdy locals. Other patrons played pool and darts toward the back.

  One woman in particular appeared to be the focus of the young men's attention. Lee Braxton was a well-dressed, blonde twenty-something with clothing that suggested wealth and high maintenance. She flirted with the men then carelessly brushed them off. She kept company with a less attractive woman of the same age, Stacy Wendt, whom no one seemed to notice. Stacy wasn't nearly as outgoing as her popular friend was. If the truth were known, Stacy would enjoy the company of nearly every man Lee brushed off nightly. Lee was extremely particular with the men she dated. Stacy wasn't nearly as particular. She just wanted a decent guy--any decent guy would do. Brian stood alongside Lee at the bar and admired her beauty and expensive clothing. Lee wasn't the least interested in him. Stacy, on the other hand, would have loved just one night with the handsome man.

  “When are you going to go out with me, Lee?” Brian asked while wearing a cheap grin on his face. “A guy can only take so much of your teasing.”

  “Now how would that look, me dating the town stud?”

  “Town stud, huh?” Brian seemed pleased with his newly found status. “When did I win that title?”

  “Name five women in this bar you haven't propositioned,” she said simply.

  Stacy knew she was one.

  Brian looked casually around without even noticing Stacy, frowned, and then looked back at Lee. “I don't like this game. Let's play something else.”

  Lee rolled her eyes and attempted to ignore him. Stacy couldn't take her eyes off him. She couldn't understand why Lee didn't jump at the chance to be with Brian. If it hadn't been for the rumor that he was already involved with another woman, Stacy would make her move tonight. She used a similar excuse every night. Most evenings, she couldn't even summon up the courage to speak to him.

  The tavern door opened to reveal a lanky man in his late twenties, Desmond Hobart, followed by a woman in her early twenties, Jetta Cross. Several heads turned as they entered. Brian felt compelled to stare at Jetta as well. Jetta was a natural beauty with flowing dark hair, piercing green eyes, and a commanding presence. Nearly everyone she passed greeted her. Jetta was naturally friendly to almost everyone she met. Unlike with Lee, if men found Jetta attractive, she was the last to notice it. Lee sneered with disgust and watched her pass. It was obvious she despised Jetta for stealing the attention that rightfully belonged to her. Brian noticed Lee's loathe for the attractive woman and seized the opportunity to torment her.

  “I'll bet you're wondering what she's got that you don't,” Brian teased with a grin.

  “There's nothing Jetta Cross has that I want,” Lee scoffed with detest and immediately became defensive. “She's best friends with that computer nerd, Desmond. He follows her around like some little lost puppy. She baby-sits her militant father's deranged lunatic friend while her father is off in some third world shit hole blowing things up. She doesn't date, and she never puts out. What the hell is the attraction? Why do the men around town fawn over her like she's generic royalty? I just don't get it.”

  “Don't get all jealous, Lee. There's always a market for ‘cheap and easy’,” Brian said with a chuckle. “It's actually funny that she doesn't even know she's competing with you.”

  Lee turned to face Brian with obvious irritation at his comment then smirked. “Well, I suppose Jetta and I do have one thing in common,” she scoffed while giving him a disgusted, quick once over. “Neither of us will ever touch you.”

  Lee turned and walked away from the bar. Stacy watched with surprise as her friend stormed off. That sealed any shot she had with Brian tonight. Stacy attempted a weak smile at Brian then hurried after her friend.

  “Bitch,” Brian scoffed softly under his breath.

  Lee didn't matter anyway. He would soon have his payday with the recently widowed Pam Albright. Lee would be his alibi tonight. She would vouch to his presence around the time Pam reported an intruder in her house. It was all going to work out. He just needed to play it cool a little while longer.

  Jetta and Desmond crossed the crowded tavern and approached the pool tables in the back. Desmond glanced at the two men playing a game of pool at one of the two tables. The first man, Tyler Kroll, was the lounge bartender at the Winter Harbor Hotel. The hotel employed many of Winter Harbor's residents, although a vast majority were laid off after the summer season. Tyler was personable and pleasing to the eyes, but his ego tended to ruin the entire package. His prestigious position at the hotel made him very popular, especially among the women in town. Rumor had it he made more in tips on a Friday evening during the summer then most men made in one week at their regular jobs.

  Bishop Kane was Carter Braxton's assistant. Carter owned the Winter Harbor Hotel and was also Lee's father. Bishop was a ruggedly handsome, serious looking man in his mid-thirties. His clean-cut, business casual appearance conveyed a certain style without suggesting wealth. Jetta thought he looked more like a hit man for the mob than a personal assistant. He was a hard man to read and mostly kept to himself. Despite his good looks, most of the women in town avoided him. He was fairly intimidating, which was why Jetta enjoyed getting under his skin, a trait she definitely acquired from her father. Desmond clearly felt uncomfortable around both men and remained close to Jetta. She was his security blanket. Being Jetta's best friend granted him a certain amount of respect; respect he probably wouldn't have gotten otherwise.

  “This was a bad idea,” Desmond softly said to her while fidgeting.

&nbs
p; “We came here to play pool, not let your co-workers intimidate you,” she told him firmly.

  “I wouldn't exactly call them my co-workers,” he replied then muttered, “more like my tormentors.”

  “Command respect, Desmond. Own the room.”

  “I'm trying, Jetta, but I'm suffocating from all the testosterone,” Desmond muttered.

  Jetta groaned softly and forced Desmond to a table near the back and past the men playing pool. Desmond lacked Jetta's self-confidence. Most of the town lacked Jetta's self-confidence. Jetta was the daughter of Admiral Quinn Cross, one of the most respected officers this side of, well, anywhere. Some could argue that Jetta was just riding on her father's reputation among the town residents, but those who knew her would agree that she was her father's daughter in every facet.

  Tyler saw Jetta and Desmond as they approached one of the back tables and grinned his delight to see her. “Hey, Jetta,” he said enthusiastically.

  “Tyler--” Jetta's disinterest in Desmond's co-worker was evident. It wasn't as if there was anything wrong with him or with the way he treated her. She just didn't like the way he tormented her best friend both in and out of work.

  “When are you going to leave your girlfriend at home and hang out with a real man?” Tyler gave her a lustful once over then grinned.

  “Desmond and I make a nicer couple than you and your boyfriend.” Jetta indicated Bishop.

  Bishop glared at Jetta without humor to her comment.

  “No need to give me that dirty look, Bishop,” she teased. “I naturally assume you're the dominant male in this couple.”

  “You know, one day Carter will grow tired of chasing you,” Tyler scoffed, “and then it'll be open season on your ass.”

  Bishop prepared to make his next shot and allowed his eyes to stray to Jetta's backside. She caught his look but focused her attention on Tyler.

  “Maybe I'll let Carter catch me,” she teased. “Then your friend there will work for me, and I'll sick him on your ass.”