My Life is Horrific Chapter 11 — Normalcy at Last? (Patreon)

You'd think after finding out my whole family had been murdered I'd be devastated.

You couldn't be more wrong.

I stood in the middle of the living room with a cold beer in one hand and the other on my hip like I owned the place. 

Which I did. 

Officially. 

The cops had ruled the whole thing an accident. Gas leak in the basement or some bullshit like that. They even showed me pictures of the remains and offered condolences while patting my shoulder like I was some fragile little orphan. I nodded along, said all the right words, signed whatever papers they shoved at me. But I knew better. Dad probably said something and Esther probably snapped. Mom... shit, who knows. Maybe she walked in at the wrong time. Point is, they were gone and I was standing in an empty house that suddenly felt like the biggest playground on earth.

I took a long swig of beer and grinned at the silence. "Alright you creepy fuckers. Time for some redecorating."

I started in the den first. Dad's stupid hunting trophies came down off the walls with a couple satisfying yanks. The deer head hit the trash can so hard it cracked. Mom's religious plaques and cross collection followed right after. I didn't even bother wrapping them. 

Just swept them into a box and taped it shut with "DO NOT OPEN - HAUNTED SHIT" written in Sharpie across the top. 

Then I dragged the old dining table out to the garage. In its place I hauled in the massive leather sectional from the den, angled it toward the TV, and stacked every snack I could find on the coffee table. Doritos, Oreos, beef jerky, the good whiskey Dad kept locked in the cabinet. I popped the lock with a screwdriver and helped myself. No more hiding bottles under the sink like a teenager. 

This was my house now.

Upstairs was even better. Esther's room got the full purge. I ripped down every single one of her creepy drawings and tossed her frilly pink bedspread straight out the window. The room smelled like her still and it made my skin crawl, so I cracked every window and let the summer breeze air the place out. By the time I was done it looked like a normal guest room. 

Mom and Dad's room I turned into my new man cave. King bed stayed but I swapped the boring beige sheets for black ones I bought. The bathroom I kept because it had the fancy showerhead, but I threw out all Mom's lavender soaps and replaced them with stuff that was mine. I also spent a large chunk of change getting myself tech savvy, though that was tech savvy for 1988. 

I was having the time of my life. I blasted music through the whole house while I worked. Queen, then some old-school rap, then whatever the fuck I felt like. I had no one to tell me to turn it down. 

Life was good. 

When it came to the police, they had cleared me. The Lakehouse massacre got pinned on some escaped psycho from the mental hospital upstate. 

Convenient story. 

I knew better but I wasn't about to argue with the nice officers who kept calling me "son" and offering therapy pamphlets. Claire's dad had a lot to do with how fast everything got swept under the rug. Noah Bennet showed up at the station the same day they questioned me, suit pressed, lawyer in tow, and suddenly the questions got a lot easier. A lot fewer. 

Guy was supposed to be a paper salesman but definitely wasn't one. I didn't ask. I was just thankful. Saved me from explaining how I survived a Friday the 13th reboot.

The Inheritance was good as you can see. The house, both cars, Dad's construction company, savings accounts I didn't even know existed. I was more than happy to let his old business partner run the day-to-day. Guy had been with Dad since before I was born and he knew the ropes. Sent me financial reports and a fat check every month. I signed whatever he put in front of me and went back to doing whatever the hell I wanted.

It had been a while since the lakehouse nightmare. Tyler, Fred, Maxine, Juliana, Georgina, even poor Casey... all gone. I still felt that one like a punch sometimes. But I was done mourning. Done replaying it. I had been away from school for a while, as I'd technically been struck by two traumatic events one after the other. I'm sure everyone was surprised i hadn't cracked yet. 

Anyway summer wasn't too far away now, so he wouldn't have to deal with the pitying stares and the people treating him like a time bomb. 

At least system had thrown me a bone too on that day. Or when day 4 triggered. 

____________________________________

[Day 3 Survived]

[Achievements:]

[Achievement Unlocked: David vs Goliath]

Little twink you are managed to not only beat the odds and survive against a legendary enemy, but you managed to kill him and end his reign of terror.

[Achievement Unlocked: Damsel in Distress]

While only a moron would somehow fail to save a girl who couldn't die it seemed you are not one. Well done. Save the cheerleader save the world and all that.

[Achievement Unlocked: Lucky Break]

Due to some good driving on your part you managed to avoid a secondary enemy while on your way out of the forest. I won't say how close he came, but be glad you put all that time into fixing up your car.

[Rewards:]

[Osmosian DNA: Simply ingest to become Human/Osmosian Hybrid]

[Mastered Skill: Mechanics]

[Key to Unknown]

_________________________________

The mechanics skill had been a godsend. Anything with an engine, wheels, wings, or propeller suddenly made perfect sense. I could listen to a car idle and tell you exactly which cylinder was misfiring. I'd already torn apart half the Mustang in the garage and put it back together better. New exhaust, upgraded suspension, little tweaks to the ECU that made it growl like it wanted blood. Icould probably build a plane if I felt like it. 

The key... I wasn't fucking with that now, I had no clue what that meant and was 70% sure I didn't want to find out. 

The Osmosian DNA though... that one I slurped up the second I got home. Tasted like battery acid and piss but the second it hit my stomach everything changed. Painful as fuck for about ten minutes, like my bones were rearranging themselves, but when it passed I could touch the kitchen counter and pull the marble right into my arm like it was clay. I could absorb any material. Metal, stone, plastic. Made me feel like a goddamn superhero. I spent a whole afternoon turning my left forearm into chrome just because I could.

I finished rearranging the last room and stepped back to admire my work. The house looked like an eighteen-year-old bachelor pad now. No more creepy family portraits staring down at me. 

Just me and my shit. 

I cracked open another beer and raised it to the empty house. "Here's to new beginnings, you murderous fucks." I took a long drink and grinned at my reflection in the dark TV screen.

This was the life. 

I tilted the can back again and finished the rest in one long pull, the aluminum crunching slightly in my grip as I swallowed the last drops, then I tossed the empty can toward the kitchen trash bin where it clattered against the side and dropped inside with a satisfying thunk.

I reached for another one on the coffee table but my fingers came up short by a couple inches, the can sitting just far enough away that I would have to lean forward and actually put in some effort. Instead I focused on it while picturing the exact path the beer needed to take and I pushed with my mind the way I had done at lakehouse. The can wobbled once then lifted a few inches off the wood before it started to shake like it was fighting me, and suddenly it slipped from my invisible grip and dropped straight down onto the floor with a loud clatter that sent foam spraying across the carpet. 

"Goddamn it," I swore under my breath while I pushed myself up from the couch and walked over to the spill, my socks sticking slightly to the wet spot as I grabbed a handful of paper towels from the kitchen counter and knelt down to blot at the mess while the sharp smell of beer filled my nose.

Ever since the NZT had worn off I had struggled a lot more with controlling any of the Shining abilities. They didn't come naturally like the Osmosian stuff did. Touching metal or wood or even the damn carpet let me absorb it instantly without even thinking, but the telekinesis and the flashes and whatever else was tangled up in my head felt like trying to drive a car with the parking brake on. 

I really needed help figuring them out but I was not sure about how to approach Carrie about it or even if I should. In any other circumstances I would have just walked up to her after school and asked straight out, but she was technically a horror-movie villain and I did not want to trigger her into leveling the whole block because I said the wrong thing. So I would have to be careful when approaching her, maybe start with something small and innocent like offering to help with homework and see if I could steer the conversation toward powers without sounding like a complete lunatic.

After I finished cleaning up the spill I grabbed another beer from the fridge and twisted the tab open with a quick hiss before I dropped back onto the couch and propped my feet on the coffee table. The TV was already on a rerun of Singing in the Rain and I let the old black-and-white footage play while Gene Kelly danced across the screen splashing in puddles. 

I found myself humming along at first then actually singing the words under my breath. The moment I let my voice rise a little I remembered the Mastered Skill for singing that the system had given me. My voice filled the living room with a rich tone that actually sounded professional and I caught myself grinning again while I belted the chorus right along with the movie. 

Damn it felt good to sound that good without even trying.

I took another sip of beer while I considered investing some of the money into turning the garage into a home studio. I could start recording songs for real and maybe shop around for a decent record deal. It would definitely be my fastest route to money. The construction company checks were nice but they were steady and boring and I wanted something that let me make shit tons of cash. 

"Good idea James Mitchell," I said to myself while I raised the can in a little toast to no one in particular.

...

A few days passed and I spent them driving around to music stores and ordering everything I needed to make the garage into something useful. I picked up a pair condenser microphones with shock mounts, a mixing board that had more knobs and lights than I knew what to do with, acoustic panels that I stuck to the walls to kill the echo, a couple of electric guitars, a keyboard that came with every sound effect under the sun, and enough cables and stands to make the place look like a professional setup. 

Thanks to Dad I was a pretty handy guy so it was not too much trouble doing the actual transformation. I spent one whole afternoon ripping out the old workbench and soundproofing the walls, then I ran new electrical lines through the walls while wearing gloves and making sure nothing shorted out, and by the end of the third day the garage had thick soundproofing on every surface and a small vocal booth built in the corner out of spare drywall and foam. 

All that was left was to fill it with various instruments and other music equipment, but the bones of the studio were already there and it felt like something I could actually turn into a career if I wanted.

That night I was sprawled on the couch again with a bowl of popcorn balanced on my lap and the TV flickering when the phone rang sharp and loud on the side table. I picked it up while still chewing a handful of kernels. "Go for Mitchell," I said around the crunch.

There was a small surprised pause on the other end and then Claire's voice came through a little hesitant. "James? Hey... it's me."

I jumped slightly at the sound of her name and the bowl of popcorn went flying off my lap and scattered across the carpet in a messy explosion of white kernels. "Claire... shit!" I answered while I sat up straight and tried to brush pieces off my shirt. Why was Claire calling now? How had she gotten my number? What the fuck was happening?

"Is everything okay?!" She asked a little panicky on the other end. 

"Yeah sorry I just... wasn't expecting you," I tried answering smoothly. 

She let out a small nervous laugh that still carried a little of that shy tone she had. "I'm sorry if this is weird. I got the number from the directory... after everything and I wasn't sure if it was okay to call or if you even wanted to hear from me after all this time."

"Of course it's okay," I said quickly while I stood up and started pacing the living room because I needed to move while I talked. "How have you been? It's been a while since we last talked with everything that happened after the lakehouse and then my family and all that mess."

Claire let out a long breath on the other end of the line, I could almost picture her twisting the phone cord around her finger. "Yeah it has. I'm really sorry I never called after your family's funeral. I wanted to but things got so crazy at home and I just... I didn't know what to say."

"It's okay," I told her while I stopped by the window and looked out at the street. "You had stuff you were dealing with. I get it. No hard feelings at all."

"Anyway how've you been," I said trying to change the topic. 

She said hesitated for a while, to the point I wondered if she had hung up. "I keep having these nightmares about that night. Every time I close my eyes I see everyone's bodies and hear the screams and I wake up shaking.... I can't talk to anyone about it because the truth is just too insane. They'd lock me up if I told them about the real killer and the healing and everything else. Not only that, I'm a freak now and my dad has been so overprotective he won't even let me leave the house. I haven't been allowed to use the phone until recently and it's all been so much. I just needed to talk to someone that understands."

I leaned against the wall while I listened and my chest tightened at the way her voice cracked on the last few words. "Hey listen to me. You're not a freak. You're alive and that's what matters. The healing thing... yeah it's weird as hell but it saved both of us so I'm calling it a win. And the nightmares? They suck but they fade. I still have them too sometimes. You're not alone in this Claire. Not even a little."

She breathed out like she had been holding it in for months. "Thank you. That actually helps more than you know. Listen... is there any way I could convince you to sneak me out tomorrow? I need to get out of this house even for a couple hours. Dad's at work and Mom is off doing Yoga."

I smiled even though she could not see it. "Of course. I've been pretty bored in this house myself. It'll be nice to see you again. Just tell me the time and I'll be there, it'll be nice to see you again."

Claire's voice got softer and warmer. "I want to see you too. I missed you."

Those words traveled straight to my dick. 

She gave me a time for tomorrow afternoon and I agreed, I wrote it down on a scrap of paper then we hung up and I stood there smiling at the phone like an idiot. Seeing Claire again would be great. I let my mind wander while I pictured how sexy she looked the last time I saw her, minus all the blood of course. I was just starting to enjoy the direction those thoughts were heading when a loud bang on the front door made me jump hard enough that my heart slammed against my ribs.

I frowned while I set the phone down and walked across the living room. I opened the door and stepped out onto the porch but the front yard was empty. I looked around slowly while turning my head left and right. "Hello?" I shouted out, but no one answered. The neighbors' lights were all off too so it could not have been them. I looked around a bit more while scanning the bushes and the driveway but everything stayed still and silent so I decided to go back inside before I ended up standing out here like an idiot all night.

That was when I saw it. 

A single red balloon floating lazily across the road under the streetlight with its string trailing behind it like a tail. 

My stomach dropped straight through the floor.

"You motherfucker!" I shouted while I spun on my heel and ran back into the house. I grabbed my handgun from the drawer in the hallway and racked the slide while I rushed outside again ready to fire and shouting a bunch of obscenities about how it was too late to deal with this shit tonight. I looked at every sewer drain along the curb while I approached the balloon with my heart hammering in my ears. The damn thing just hovered there in the middle of the road like it was waiting for me.

I cursed this world again under my breath while I kept the gun aimed at the balloon. I had already dealt with Jason and now Pennywise was already harassing me like the universe could not give me one single break. I approached the balloon carefully while absorbing a bit of the metal from the gun into my fingertip and I stabbed forward and popped the rubber with a loud bang. Confetti exploded outward in a colorful shower and a small piece of paper fluttered down to the asphalt at my feet.

See you soon xxx

"Fuck me," I muttered. 

I turned and headed back to the house while shoving the gun into my waistband and trying to shake off the chill that had settled between my shoulder blades.

I stepped inside and closed the door behind me while letting out a long breath and that was when two warm arms wrapped around my waist from behind and a familiar voice purred right against my ear. "Miss me, sugar?"

(AN: A bit of an introduction chapter. Also if I don't include a survival day it's because he didn't gain any achievements that day. Achievements are directly related to interactions with characters or enemies or doing abnormal things. He didn't get any achievements for his family dying because he wasn't involved. He's basically been sat on his ass. Anyway hope you enjoyed.)