“I Scream, You Scream” A Short Story


Noelle Buehrer

Beware: Grusesome story ahead…

“Do we seriously have to be driving on a mountain road at ten p.m. on December twenty-third?” Casey asked his parents from the backseat.
“Casey, I’ve already told you enough times, this is the only road to your grandparents’ house,” his dad, Ernest, replied angrily.
“I’m just saying, it would be so much quicker to fly across three states-”
“Plane tickets are way too expensive, Casey,” Alaina, Casey’s younger sister interrupted.
“-or we could’ve spent the night in a motel in the town back there and just arrive at grandma and grandpa’s house a little later,” Casey finished.
“We can’t be late to Grandma and Grandpa’s house!” Alaina shouted.
“Just making a suggestion.” Casey slouched down in defeat.
The car ride through the mountains continued in silence. Casey stared out the window at the mountains illuminated by the full moon. The farther down he tried to look, the less he could see. The base of the mountains was entirely engulfed in blackness. Casey looked up and saw the stars in the clear night sky. He pointed out to himself the constellations he recognized. As Casey was mentally tracing the shape of Ursa Minor, he heard Alaina exclaim, “Look! An ice cream truck!”
“Well, that’s odd,” Casey’s mom, Helen, added, “whoever heard of an ice cream truck on a mountain road? And in the winter, no less!”
“Can we get out and look at it? Please?” Alaina begged.
“It’s awfully dark out, and we’re already late to Grandma and Grandpa’s house,” Ernest argued.
“Yeah, but it’s an ice cream truck, on a mountain road, in December!” Casey insisted.
“Well, you’re lucky the car is almost out of gas. I’ll walk down to it with you guys if your mom can fill us back up,” Ernest said as he pulled over. Casey and Alaina zipped up their coats and climbed out of the car, followed by their dad. Helen stepped out and called after them, reminding them to be safe.
The trio walked down the road a bit until they arrived at the mysterious truck. Casey examined it from the outside, noticing how it looked rusty and worn down. The windshield had a spiderweb crack in the top left corner. Two tires were missing, and the other two were deflated. It was evident the truck used to be painted white and pink, but nearly all the paint was rusted and chipped away. The truck looked like something out of a horror movie.
“I dare you to try to open that door,” Casey whispered to Alaina as he pointed to the driver’s side door.
“No!” She shoved him. “I don’t even want to touch it! Besides, it’s probably locked.”
“Exactly. That’s why it won’t be so bad.”
“If you’re so unafraid, why don’t you try to open it.”
“Okay.” Casey walked up to the door.
“Casey, that’s a bad idea,” Ernest scolded.
“Come on, Dad. Please? I’ll be careful.”
“Fine, but if you get hurt, it’s not going to be my fault.”
Casey turned around to face the door of the ice cream truck. He curled his hand around the handle, and pulled with as much strength as he could muster. To his surprise, the door popped open with ease. In fact, the entire door fell right off its hinges. With the open door came the most disgusting scent Casey had ever smelled. He could only think to describe it as rotten everything.
“Ew, what is that smell?” Alaina asked as she covered her nose.
“I don’t know, but I want to find out,” Casey stated, and began to enter the truck.
“Casey!” Ernest yelled as he leaned forward and grabbed Casey’s arm, “Absolutely not! You will stay out of that truck!” Casey wriggled free and started to climb into the back of the truck. He fell into the back of the truck and felt something squishy. The stench in the back of the truck was nearly unbearable. It was dark, so Casey pulled his phone out of his pocket in the hope that it would provide some light. He turned on his phone’s flashlight, and shone it on the ground. Casey almost threw up when he looked down and saw that the floor was covered not in spilled ice cream, but dismembered human parts. Arms, legs, heads, and even some organs. It was less of an ice cream truck and more of a slaughter truck.
“Casey!” shouted Ernest as he climbed into the back of the truck back with his son. Casey screamed and yelled, “Get out! We have to get out!”
“Why?” Ernest looked down at the gory mess on the floor and realized the answer to his question. As Ernest helped Casey out of the truck, they both heard Alaina scream. Once they were out of the truck, they understood why.
Walking up the mountain road was a man wearing a blood-stained apron and a clown mask. He noticed the family standing around his truck and started running towards them. Casey, Alaina, and Ernest all realized they should run back toward their car. Casey made the decision to look back and see how far away the man was. A bad decision on his behalf, because the man was only a few feet behind him. Those few feet were close enough that Casey could see into the man’s eyes. In those eyes, Casey saw something he didn’t recognize. Evil. Hatred. The man was less of a man and more of a monster. Casey turned back around and nearly collided with his car. He ran to his door, threw it open, and jumped in. Ernest was already in the driver’s seat. He started the car and sped away in hopes of escaping the man-monster. In the mirror, Ernest could see him turn around and walk back down the hill in defeat. Casey stared out the window once again, but this time, he wasn’t looking at the stars.
“Breaking news!” the TV at Casey’s grandparents’ house exclaimed. It was Christmas Day. Casey and his family made it there safely in time. “Reports have been coming in about a cannibal supposedly living in an ice cream truck in the middle of the Rocky Mountains. It appears as though this unnamed person was capturing victims driving through the mountains and eating them. Police are working on locating the culprit. The family who notified the police about this situation wishes to remain anonymous, but we’d like to thank them for making the public aware of this horror. They also described the man as tall, wearing a bloody apron and a clown mask…” the TV reporter described.
“Thank God we told the police about that man. I hope they catch him,” Helen said, glancing up from her book.
“Monster,” Casey corrected; his eyes glossy and his voice monotone.
“I’m sorry? What was that?”
“He’s not a man, he’s a monster.”