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    Grafted
    Grafted
    Grafted
    Ebook105 pages1 hour

    Grafted

    By Anthony Izzo

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Millsville is a dangerous part of town. Once thriving with industry, it's now largely dead and forsaken. People disappear off the streets. There are whispers of strange things lurking in a scrapyard at the end of town.  

     

    Jake Pastor is a small time criminal whose sister went missing while exploring the scrapyard. Fearing something awful has happened to his sister, Jake takes things into his own hands. After arming himself and recruiting his longtime partner in crime, he goes searching for Crystal.  

     

    Jake will discover something more terrifying than he can imagine in Millsville. And his quest to save Crystal turns into a night of unimaginable horror.  

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherWhite Knuckle Books
    Release dateAug 12, 2023
    ISBN9798223781608
    Grafted
    Author

    Anthony Izzo

    Anthony Izzo is the author of 17 thrillers. He enjoys writing tales of mayhem that include anything from zombies to psycho killers to murderous shapeshifters. Anthony was a judge for the Buffalo Dreams screenplay competition. He recently had a story appear in the "SNAFU: Future Warfare" anthology. When not writing, he enjoys playing loud guitar, reading crime novels, and giving craft beers a good home. He makes his home in Western New York and features Buffalo prominently in his work.

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      Book preview

      Grafted - Anthony Izzo

      CHAPTER ONE

      Crystal followed Tim through the twisted heaps of scrapped cars, old appliances, and chunks of rusting metal that littered the scrapyard. Above the piles of scrap loomed a giant crane with a magnet attached. They were headed toward a warehouse, where you could supposedly hear creepy noises inside.

      They’d slipped through a hole in the fence and snuck onto the property, despite signs hung that advised trespassers would be prosecuted. She’d even spotted one that said the property was protected by Smith & Wesson.

      A date night with Tim was never boring. That was for sure. Her heart drummed in her chest, but she couldn’t deny this was a little exciting.

      Earlier, they’d started out by grabbing a burger, then headed back to Tim’s apartment to watch a movie. They’d only made it half an hour into the movie before Crystal kissed him.

      He’d been wearing the cologne she’d bought him and his arms looked fine in that tight t-shirt. He normally hated cologne but had worn it for her. They’d started making out on the couch during the movie and finished with Tim bending her over the kitchen table.

      When they’d finished in the kitchen, they’d showered together, where Tim went down on her under the hot water. Once they were out of the shower and dressed, the two of them had forgotten about the movie.

      That’s when Tim suggested they do something wild. He was always coming up with unusual shit to do. Late night mystery rides. Taking her to parties spur-of-the moment. He played in a band called Grindstone. They played sleazy, punkish music at a frenetic pace. Their gigs got wild, with people moshing in organized violence near the stage.

      It was exciting going with a guy in a band. Broke up her routine of going to college for English and working on the campus Starbucks. She met all kinds of new people dating Tim. Punks in leather jackets and combat boots. Guys in black metal bands, who looked terrifying but were generally harmless. One guy named Ollie from a band called Chosen Born had an upside-down cross tattooed on his cheek. He played D&D and collected Funko Pop figures when he wasn’t singing about serial murderers and Satan.

      As they were toweling off, Tim had said, We should go out to the scrapyard.

      Why the hell would we do that?

      This guy Dagger from Fucked? He told me there’s something weird out there.

      Wait, Fucked?

      Yeah, Fucked. We played the Royal Room with them last month.

      Subtle choice for a band name.

      He said they got a warehouse out there. It’s all locked up like a maximum security prison. Said there’s weird, creepy noises inside. Him and his buddies snuck up there one time and listened outside the building before they got chased off.

      The scrapyard was at the ass end of Millsville. That part of town had been decaying for years. The old auto parts plant had shut down ten years ago. Many of the homes in that part of town housed the workers. When the plant shut down, people moved out.

      Millsville had blocks upon blocks of abandoned homes. The business district, once bustling with bars and restaurants frequented by plant workers, was boarded up. Going to the dead end of town after dark wasn’t advisable. Many of the buildings were occupied by junkies. There were rumors of a street gang operating in that part of town. Some teenagers intent on exploring abandoned buildings had been beaten and one had been stabbed by this alleged gang.

      Then there was the scrapyard. It had been there as long as anyone remembered. Crystal occasionally spotted their trucks hauling scrap or one of their flatbeds hauling dead cars. Superior Scrap. All the trucks were smudged with dirt and grease. Many of them looked to be from the eighties or older.

      She’d reluctantly agreed to see the scrapyard but supposed it would be exciting.

      She was caught up on her schoolwork and had finished a paper on the Canterbury Tales last night. Brit Lit bored her to death and she was glad to have the paper done. She wanted to be a novelist and freelance writer when she graduated. Didn’t see how long-dead English writers would help her.

      She wouldn’t tell Jake. Her brother would lose his shit if he knew Crystal was going out there. Jake was her self-appointed guardian. He thought Tim was a lowlife musician. That was saying something, because she knew Jake was involved in some unsavory stuff himself. He always seemed to have wads of cash on him although he had no job. She didn’t usually ask where the money came from.

      Now, they crept through the scrap piles, Crystal stepping over twisted pieces of sharp metal. Eventually, they emerged from the scrap maze to find the warehouse looming up ahead. It had sides of rusted, corrugated metal. Rows of fifty-five-gallon drums were lined up along one side of the structure.

      She spotted a steel entry door, which was padlocked and chained. A larger, roll-up door was next to the entryway. The building sent a shiver through her. She couldn’t say why. One of Superior Scrap’s flatbed trucks was parked near the door. Its cab was painted grayish brown. The windshield was covered with grime. How the hell did the driver even see to steer?

      What if they have cameras? Crystal said.

      Dagger said there’s no cameras. Look at that truck. These guys are living in the last century.

      Crystal scanned the building and didn’t see any cameras mounted on the building. Didn’t mean they didn’t have a camera somewhere. These days, everywhere seemed to be under surveillance.

      Tim’s attention was focused on the warehouse. He beamed like a kid about to blow out birthday candles. It was kind of cute how excited he seemed. He drummed his fingers against his thigh. He carried that same energy on stage, bouncing around with his guitar as if he’d been lit on fire. She’d thought he was hot from the moment she’d seen him. Grindstone had played a gig in the school’s Arts pavilion. Tim had caught her eye.

      She’d approached him after the show when the band was breaking down their gear. That was six months ago, and they’d seen each other just about every night. When he had gigs, she was usually in the crowd.

      You ready? he said.

      As I’ll ever be.

      CHAPTER TWO

      They left the cover of the scrap piles and crossed the open ground to the warehouse, rounding the rows of barrels. Tim got to the entry door first. Crystal joined him. Up close, she noticed rust flaking from the door. Like everything else at the scrap yard, it reeked of neglect and age.

      What are we supposed to be hearing? Crystal said.

      Something moving around in there supposedly. An animal.

      It’s probably a guard dog.

      Naw, Dagger says it’s definitely something weird.

      Crystal scanned the yard. Far across the property was the front gate, a truck scale, and a shack that served as Superior’s office. She saw no sign of people, which was good. The owners likely wouldn’t be friendly if they caught Tim and Crystal poking around.

      Crystal put her ear to the door. No sounds came from the other side at first, but then a soft shuffling echoed from behind the door. "I

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