Disturbing Dreams: A Collection of Short Horror Stories

Don't Click

At 8 pm at night on September 20th, Rush tramped through the trash of the dark alley, scrounging for interesting bits of junk people tossed away. He'd been there several times before, finding the occasional treasure, like an old comic or outdated video game console. The alley was damp and dirty the majority of the time, but he didn't mind. He grimaced as his foot hit the side of an overturned rotting cardboard box, the limp side caving in even with just a tap. Rush kicked it out of the way irritably and yelped, "Augh!" as his toe crashed against a hard surface inside the box. Bending down, nursing his toe, which was beginning to swell a bit, Rush glanced over to the bottom of the cardboard box. The corner of a black metal box was barely visible underneath the cardboard.

Rush used his other foot to lift the moldy cardboard up, careful not to touch it, and stared at his discovery underneath it. Under the cardboard was an ancient computer, box-like and decently large. He peered closer at it, turning it slowly with his finger to try and find the model or brand name. The surface was smooth, with little holes on the sides for ventilation and a long cord hung from the back like a tail. A keyboard, monitor, and mouse, caked with dust, sat next to it. Rush checked his phone, examining various old models of computers. The one sitting on the filthy ground in front of him matched none of them. Rush felt his pulse quicken. Maybe I found a rare computer, the money for selling it would definitely help my family! He thought excitedly. Rummaging around the rest of the moldy cardboard boxes, Rush grabbed the most relatively clean and dry one he could find. He lifted the computer parts with a grunt, his arms straining, and placed it carefully into the box. Half carried, half dragged towards Rush's car, the box with the computer in it was eventually placed into the back seat, and Rush started the car.

As he drove down the narrow roads of his hometown, Rush's mind was filled with speculations about the machine and the money it could bring his family. His mother was constantly working as an underpaid cleaner for a wealthy household nearby, and his father was absolutely nowhere to be found. Rush's mother had tried to send his younger sister, Maybelline, to elementary school, but Maybelline didn't exactly fit in and eventually stayed home to avoid the bullying. Their family had been running low on money as of late, as well. Rush gazed fondly into the backseat of the car at the box from his cracked car mirror.

Rush pulled into the gravel driveway of their tiny, worn house, the small rocks spinning as the tires crunched over them. The front door opened with a creak, and Maybelline came tearing out, leaping onto Rush and hugging him tightly. "Did you find anything?!" the seven-year-old asked happily. "I actually did today!" Rush responded, leading Maybelline to the backseat. She peered inside the box, her large hazel eyes widening. "Is it good?" she asked, "It looks good!" Rush chuckled, ruffling her light brown hair. "It sure is!" he said. Grabbing the box, Rush brought it inside, the screen door clanging behind him. He put it on a wooden table next to an outlet, the box making a small clunk noise.

Rush grabbed the cord, pulling out the computer, and connecting the keyboard, monitor, and mouse. Maybelline eagerly watched the screen. He plugged it into the wall, the electricity dancing across the metal of the cord, and the computer made a small whirring sound as the screen flickered and lit up, the blue light shining across the table. A small chiming noise came from the sides, and white code appeared across the screen, loading. Maybelline let out an excited giggle, running her finger along the top. Rush stood in disbelief. "I can't believe it actually works!" he reveled. After a few minutes of the two staring impatiently at the screen, the computer cut to a home page. Bits and pieces of the screen weren't loading, leaving a blank space, but Rush didn't care. Oddly enough, the Internet was the only thing installed on the computer. "This must be from after 1991 since the first website was that year," he mused aloud. Moving the mouse slowly around the screen, Rush inspected the pixels for a model or date of the computer creation. Once again, nothing was to be found.