The Yearbook

Thriller Stories | Jul 30, 2014 | 10 min read
60 Votes, average: 4 out of 5
Thriller Stories

The Yearbook

Luke Mepham
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The Yearbook
By Luke Mepham

It was a baking hot summers day when Mr. Jark dragged bags across his front garden. It caught the attention of the young lady who's just moved in a few doors down across the road. She was lying down on a towel wearing a pair of denim shorts and a white vest top reading the latest Peter James novel. The sun was too much for the elderly Jark. He's eighty five but doesn't let that stop him from living. He stops half way and wipes the sweat from his forehead. He bent over to pick the bag up but was told to drop it. He looked up to see the young girl standing in his driveway. "You don't have to do that. Please let me." She insisted.
"Oh good Heavens you startled me. It's perfectly fine, I can do it."
"I won't hear anything of it." She took the bag and took it for him to the end of his driveway. "Is that all of it?" she asked.
"Only a couple of bits but please you don't have to."
"I know I don't but I want to. We can't have you suffering on a day like this." She jogged along to the door and got the rest. She didn't want to say anything but the bags were not really that heavy. She then figured with his age a feather might as well weigh a hundred kilos.
He watched how she walked on the gravel barefoot.
"You be careful of those pointy stones. Watch you don't cut yourself."
"I'll be fine" she said with a smile. "Anything else you'd like help with?"
He shook his head and waved his hand at her. "No, no you've done enough for me, would you like something in return; a lemonade perhaps?"
She looked up to the cloudless blue sky and took in a deep breath then looked back at him.
"I'd love one thanks."
She followed him inside and closed the door behind her.
The house was a nice cool temperature. She relaxed instantly at the feel of it. No wonder he was wearing a cardigan outside if it's this cool in here.
"My name is Alec. I don't believe I've seen you around."
"I moved in at the beginning of the month. My name's Hollie." She sat at the stool he had next to the breakfast table.
He handed her a glass of ice cold lemonade. She couldn't stop drinking it. The cold trickled down inside her, cooling off the engines that were running hot.
Mr. Jark finished off drying his hands after washing them and then turned to face her. She saw he was an elderly man but there was youth in him. He was slow or shaky. He stood upright with a straight back. He was pudgy but not from having a lust for junk food or alcohol (he didn't touch either) but from the usual belly old people would get. The sweat made his glasses continuously slide down his nose so he mopped his forehead again.
Hollie looked around the room and noticed a very old picture showing a married couple. The picture was tea coloured and very old.
"Is that you?" she asked
"That's my great granddad." She looked surprised at the resemblance to him and the picture.
"He looks just like you. Your family must have strong genes."
"Oh we do." He chuckled.
"Are you married?"
"I was once, many years ago. She died nearly twenty years ago."
"I'm sorry to hear that"
"Thank you." He mopped his head with the cloth once more to get it all off his brow. As he put the cloth down, Hollie noticed a ring on his finger. It was dark red and very chunky. She looked back at the photo and sees the great grandfather wearing a ring similar. Maybe the same ring.
"Yes she caught that incurable foul cancer and sadly succumbed to it."
"Do you have any children?"
He shook his head; "This is where the Jark family tree must end. We couldn't have children but we did well with each other."
She felt at ease with being near him; a gentle soul.
"At least you had each other." She looked at her watch.
"I must be going now. I have to do some reading for my English literature and this book is so engrossing. If you ever need a hand with anything please just come and knock."
"Well now that you mention it are you busy tomorrow?"
"No I haven't got anything on. What do you need help with?"
"As you might've guessed I'm clearing out some rooms and leaving it at the end of my drive for the charity workers. They come and take the things I leave for them. I think I need a hand with one of the rooms."
"Of course I'll help."
"I'll pay you."
"That won't be necessary. But if you have more of that lemonade going you could pay me with that?"
He smiled and nodded.
"That's very doable."
Hollie got up and said Goodbye then went out the front door.
Mr. Jark watched her as she crossed over the road and then went to her book on the lawn. She found her page, laid back, crossed her legs and then got lost in the world of her story.
She read a few more chapters and after about forty five minutes she got her towel and went inside; she had no idea that Mr. Jark had been watching her for the entire time.

"You must've been a keen reader" said Hollie as she passed Mr. Jark the millionth pile of books.
He dusted them off and placed them in bags, not too heavy.
"Books were all I had after Claudia went. I used to escape from reality by burying my head in one every night. Sometimes I'd get so into them that I'd find myself reading them all through the night."
He went to reach for a bag but found the box was empty.
"Do you want me to get you some more?"
"Oh no I have plenty downstairs. I won't be a minute."
He got up and made his way downstairs. Hollie looked around the room and felt like she was in Times Square with the towers of books surrounding her. She noticed a pile in the corner collecting dust. Five books were there. Four of them were about insects, mainly spiders. Dangerous Spiders from across the Globe was the one in the boldest letters. She felt giddy around spiders. She checks the corners of her ceiling every night but fails to remember like so many other people do that many things will only attack if they feel threatened, If you leave spiders alone, they will leave you alone.
The book on the top seemed to call out to her. There was no title on the spine of the book so she pulled it out to see what it was. "My yearbook" she read the title out loud and then opened the first page to a picture of a young woman. Very pretty but yet the picture seemed to be from the early 1800's.
Underneath was an inscription; ‘Eleanor Swan 1854'
Hollie turned to the next page to see another woman from the same era. ‘Amelia Hurst 1874'.
She seemed confused by this. ‘Maybe this book belonged to his Great grandfather too.' She thought.
"Is everything okay?" Mr. Jark stood in the doorway smiling and clutching a roll of black sacks.
"Everything's fine I'm just a little confused"
"The yearbook, I thought it was confusing too, but strangely intriguing, that's why I bought it from the car boot sale."
A huge wave of relief came over Hollie. She seemed stupid that she didn't even think of that possibility.
He pulled off a bag and began shoveling the books into it. Hollie handed him the yearbook and he paused almost cautiously. Slowly he placed the yearbook into the bag.
After a couple of hours they had cleared the room and took the bags down to the end of the drive. The day seemed hotter than yesterday. Hollie squinted with the sun in her eyes and turned to Mr. Jark.
"Thanks for today, are you doing any rooms tomorrow?"
"No you've helped me with the one I was most afraid of doing. It seemed a bit much for someone my age doing it. Would you be interested in….oh no don't worry."
"What is it? I'm sure it's nothing major."
"Well I've felt rotten about me pulling you away from your studies to help me and me not giving you something in return."
"I've told you, I'm not doing it for money"
"Well how about dinner tomorrow? You come over for dinner."
Hollie looks at her house.
"I do need my oven looking at and it would be nice to eat something different to jam on toast for a while. Okay I'll come for dinner."
Mr. Jark smiles and extends his hand for hers. She takes it and they shake on it.
"Come on by at about five. I'll have everything ready by then. Don't dress up or anything. It's just me."
She smiles and goes back to her house feeling happy she's made a friend in this quiet neighbourhood.
That night, Hollie didn't sleep well and woke up many times to the noise of rummaging.
She brushed it off as raccoons and slept through the night with her iPod playing to drown out the noise from outside.
Meanwhile, Mr. Jark was looking through the bags at the end of the driveway for something he threw out.

The next afternoon Hollie brushed her hair and got dressed. Nothing too fancy like Mr. Jark had said but into something that made her comfortable. It was when she looked at an old photo of her and her friends at her 20th party that something dawned on her. Those women in the book, Eleanor and Amelia were known to Mr. Jark's family tree for 20 years. She heard his voice in her head; ""I was once, many years ago. She died nearly twenty years ago." ‘What is with the fascination of the number 20? It had to be a coincidence' she thought.

She got herself to Mr. Jark's front door and waited for him to answer. When he came to the door he looked different. He looked extremely drained and frail. He didn't look eighty five; he looked a hundred and eighty five.
"Oh my God is everything okay?" she asked.
He nodded slowly and welcomed her inside.
"I feel very weak at the minute. But I'll be fine."
"No you need to sit down; we can do this another time. It's no problem."
"There's not much time left. You just sit down at the table and I'll get to dinner."
She tried to sit him down but with the way he pushed forward there was no way he seemed frail. He had some strength behind that push.
He made his way into the kitchen but she went to him and stopped him.
"Please just sit, I'll serve it." she insisted.
She went to the boiling pot and took the lid off. There was too much steam to see just what was cooking. There was a funny smell from it that made her think twice about joining him for dinner. When the steam had cleared she looked closer into the pot and screamed at the sight of flies gelled together by a white mucus looking substance.
"What's wrong? What is it?" Mr. Jark called
"This isn't right. There are bugs in it."
"What? Bring it here." He managed.
Hollie grabbed a cloth and wrapped it round the pot and brought it into the room. Mr. Jark peered into it and looked up at her and grinned.
"It's the first course."

"Are you going to come in, my dear?"
She snapped out of her daze and found herself looking at Mr. Jark.
"Is everything okay? You seem to be in a daze."
Hollie nodded and looked at him.
"I'm sorry about that; I just went into a world of my own. I feel a bit embarrassed now" she began to blush.
Mr. Jark held his hand out welcomingly and invited her inside where he took her jacket and hung it up. He led her to the dining room where there was a long table laid up for two people – one at each end. In the middle there was a candlestick glowing a fake flame.
Hollie sat down as Mr. Jark ran off to get the food.
"This is the first course."
She froze in her seat: ‘It's the first course'.
Mr. Jark entered with a pot and began to pour the contents into a bowl in front of her. She winced at what she might find but the smell travelled nicely through her nose; tomatoes.
"It's an old family favourite – Tomato and stilton soup."
"It smells lovely"
They sat silently and started to eat the soup. Every now and again they'd lock eyes and smile at each other. It felt like an awkward date.
Once finished, Mr. Jark stood up and took her bowl away from her and replaced it with a shape covered in cling film.
"What is it?" she asked.
"It's something I want you to look at very carefully."
She started to unwrap it and when she had completely uncovered it, she placed it back on the table.
"It's the year book. I thought we threw it out yesterday?"
"We did. But it really wasn't meant to be thrown out."
"I see" she said almost nervously.
"Open it." he urged her.
She opened the first page and saw Eleanor, then the second page and saw Amelia.
"Go towards the back"
She flipped through a few more pages and got to a picture of a woman dresses like a punk. The inscription next to the picture said ‘Tammy Burts – 1974.' The next picture was of a young woman in front of a library reading a book. It was almost done candidly. ‘Melissa Portland – 1994.'
The next page made the hairs on the back of her arms stand on end.
‘Hollie Peters – 2014' The picture was of her sitting on the towel two days prior and reading the latest Peter James novel.
"What is this?"
"This is my log book" he began, "You're the newest chapter in it and congratulations for being the first one of the twenty first century."
"I don't understand" she put the book down and got up.
"I have to go now. I'm sorry but this is wrong."
She got to the front door but the handle was missing.
"If this is some kind of joke it's not funny."
"This is no joke whatsoever. Allow me to explain."
He leads her to the armchair and sits her down.
"I'm afraid I've lied to you." He passed down the photo of his great grandfather and his wife and handed it to her.
"The man in the photo is of me. The lady to my left was my first victim."
"Your first victim?" she began to start panicking inside.
"You see, my dear, When I arrived on this earth from my planet of arachnids, I found out in order for me to live I have to feast on a human. It keeps me looking the same for twenty more years. Women are the ones that seem to be the easiest for me to get to."
"I don't believe you."
"Not believing me is your second mistake. The first one was getting caught in my web, and now it's time for the main course."
He stood in front of her and took the red ring off his finger; the chunky red one. His arm began changing into a long black hairy leg.
"I hope you understand" his voice began changing to a deeper, gurgling tone.
Hollie began crying out of fear but nodded and accepted her fate.
Her cries were cut out by the sound of crunching. The night was still and quiet not long after.

It was a baking hot summers day when Mr. Jark dragged bags across his front garden.

The End

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