Published Feb. 2019
Under Timmy's Bed
A man prepares for a battle with the Grim Reaper... An art thief grows too attached to a mysterious painting... Three technology whizzes face the consequences of their advancements... An unloved woman makes a pact with a smooth-talking devil... A guy addicted to video games finds his world transformed with research chemicals... A small child up past his bedtime searches for his teddy bear... These chilling tales and many others await you in this terrifying collection.
Delve into this horrifying collection spanning the career of celebrated author Jae El Foster. Including newer hits like First Person Shooter and Waiting on You, plus a variety of timeless classics such as Edna’s Longing and Motherly Love, prepare to sleep with your lights on. Come see for yourself what terrors live Under Timmy’s Bed.
$3.99 - eBook or $14.95 - Print
Excerpt from 'Waiting on You'
It took a bit of force, but he stood from the chair and walked to his oversized briefcase on the small table by the even smaller closet. From there, he grabbed a bottle of pills and then prepared a glass of water. They were prescription pain killers that his doctor said could ease the headaches, but Ronald’s system had built up a tolerance to them and now it took several instead of one. There were only eight left in the bottle, and after glancing at them for a brief eternity, he popped all eight into his mouth and drank them down with the water.
It wasn’t enough to kill him. He knew that. But he hoped it would kill the headache. It was hard for him to think or focus with the severity of the pounding.
As he eased back into the chair, he knew it would be a few minutes before they kicked in. So, he tried to focus again on the television, finally finding an episode of I Love Lucy. At least, he thought it was Lucy. He could not tell. His vision was blurring and his hearing was in sad shape. For all he truly knew, he could have been watching Three’s Company.
While the pain began to subside, his mind began to swoon. He was dizzy and his blurry vision was causing two or three of everything. In and out… in and out. Spinning, swirling and twisting from his eyes to his brain in a dull spectrum of grayscale colors.
“Tell me, Ronald,” he heard a voice whisper from somewhere in his thoughts, but the voice was not his. “How does it feel? How does it feel to know everything you knew and loved is gone? Are you lonely? Is it lonely for you out in that great big world, Ronald?”
Angrily, he pulled at his thinning hair. “Shut up!” he shouted, hoping to end this deranged nonsense. “Shut up… shut up… Shut Up!”
“You cannot silence me, Ronald,” the voice continued. “I’m a part of you now. I’m with you, side by side, until your miserable life is through. You know the voice of Death, Ronald. You know his hand. He has followed along and is present in every crack and crevice and corner. He is every shadow that you gaze at while the most tormenting thoughts echo through your mind. You’ve known him all along, Ronald. You’ve invited him, and now he waits.”
“For what?” Ronald question, shaking his head with tears streaming from his clenched-shut eyes.
“For you to give yourself to him, of course.”
END OF EXCERPT