Wheels: A Horror Fiction Short Story

Horror Short Story

This short horror story is for adults. Thank you for reading!

Charles rolled silently down the hall of his high school. Charles was mad. Rage like and insane, also. Charles had been in a wheelchair for most of his life. He rolled to classes and tried to fit in. Impossible. Everyone here walked. He didn't. He rolled. He had no friends. His so called friends were merely pitying him or curious. Whatever the case was, he knew. He saw through them. Transparent hello's and goodbye's made his day complete. For them. Never him. He was always aware of the freak that he was. To them. No reality. Only his dark rage and pain. That was real. The pain of knowing that he would never fit in. Ever.

Charles had a plan. He had been planning for a long time. There were a group of athletic jocks that tormented him. Daily. They always cornered him in the restroom. Laughing at him. Asking him how he could pee when he couldn't stand. They were below human and they had it coming to them. That was certain. He would deliver. It to them. Finally.

One particular boy named Bob was the worse one. He tormented Charles mercilessly. He always found the time to find Charles in the bathroom. Every day. Today, Charles was ready for him. As Bob strolled in and started in with his usual taunts, Charles told him to come here. Bobby glanced around and found himself all alone with Charles in the boy's bathroom. He grinned. You don't want none of me, Charlie, Bob said. Charles said, oh but, I do. Are you scared? Come here. Bob walked towards him.

As Bob reached the side of Charles's wheelchair, Charles flipped the switch. The one that extended a six inch razor sharp blade from the wheel of the wheelchair. Charles whipped the wheelchair around expertly and left a huge deep gash in Bob's leg. Bob screamed and fell to the floor, howling in pain. He was bleeding badly and screaming. What's wrong, Bob? Charles just had to ask him. Bob didn't answer. That was to be expected. Charles rolled his wheelchair over to Bob, positioning it over Bob's head.

Charles calmly flipped another switch. A twelve inch blade quickly came down from underneath Charles's wheelchair and sliced cleanly through Bob's head. Bob was dead. Charles was glad. He wouldn't get caught. Who would suspect a helpless boy in a wheelchair? Noone. He wiped down his chair and rolled out into the hallway. It was just another day. Charles smiled. He wondered who was next. Wheels. They roll on. Always.