My first attempt at a short horror story (and my first published work for mature audiences).
Originally published as a KDP exclusive in October 2025, it is now available for free. An ode to the type of horror I tend to watch/consume the most and largely inspired by the works of filmmakers such as Ari Aster and Zach Cregger.
INCEL
A SHORT STORY
BY JEFF DEMARCO
Detective Matthews pulled into the parking lot of the Philly-Side Inn, minding the traffic and hazard cones strewn throughout in a haphazard attempt to block out civilian interference. He swerved past a group of officers and coroners standing over a white sheet and made his way to the nearest vacant spot. He put the car in park and took a sip of his coffee before rubbing his brow in a tired and hazy frustration. He had not intended to be doing this today.
He had planned an incredible daddy-daughter date with his kid. Arranged for her mother to drop her off early (typically he had her on weekends) just for it. Pumpkin patch tickets, lunch plans, shopping trip… all of it. The ultimate autumn play date.
…but anytime something crazy happened in this town, he was the man to call. Day or night, rain or shine, if it went above typical police happenstance he HAD to be there. He always felt a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach pulling up to a scene, knowing damn well whatever he was about to stumble on had already been declared something beyond the typical paygrade.
Maybe if he wrapped this up quickly, he’d make it home in time for his plans.
“Okay,” he said to himself. “Let’s do this.”
Gripping his coffee like an anchor point, he flung himself from his seat and got out of the car. He surveyed the parking lot around him- cracked and badly weathered by time and poor upkeep, he would have sworn the place was abandoned had it not been for the panicked phone call from its distressed owner this morning. He composed himself one more time before walking up to the group standing around the white sheet.
“Morning,” he said half-heartedly before stopping before the body. The others nodded solemnly.
“So- what’s under there?”
“Young male,” the coroner began. “Similar to the others.”
“Well, let me take a look.”
The coroner nodded, retrieving a pair of vinyl gloves from his jacket pocket before kneeling to lift the sheet. He turned his head, disgusted, covering his mouth and nose with his free arm. Det. Matthews kneeled, his mouth dropping and the color vanishing from his face.
It was a cool, autumn night in Morrisburg, Tennessee. The Three-Eye Atlas Bar & Grill was filled to the brim with loud and bustling patrons looking for an opportunity to catch their next buzz and forget the turbulence of typical rust-belt life. John wasn’t too dissimilar from the aforementioned clientele rugged and slightly disheveled, he could almost pass for handsome if he knew how to clean up. He sat alone at a booth, a sole bucket of peanuts and a solitary beer mug, half drunk, sitting in front of him. His gaze wandered the room for the millionth time that evening- couples dining, friends laughing, groups of people just living loudly…
…he fucking hated it.
He wasn’t there just to scowl at couples and people living their best lives, though. He also had plans for the first time in ages: dinner with friends. For months he had avoided going out for much beyond work and essential errands. Getting out of his comfort zone for a night might do some good. Still- he wished it had been less crowded.
He noticed a couple walking in from the front entrance- a stout, taller man with a messy fade and goatee to match accompanied by a shorter, slender woman with brunette hair tied into a messy bun.
“Hey!” he shouted, waving them down. “Over here!”
The couple waved back before making their way through the crowd over to his booth.
“Hey guys, have a seat!”
The man smiled and gave him a boisterous bear hug.
“You son of a bitch! It’s been forever since I’ve seen you! John-” he pulled away, gesturing to the woman with him. “-meet Julie, my lovely new wife! Say hi, Julie.”
She waved with a warm smile.
“Nice to meet you, John! Micah has told me so much about you!”
“Only good things, I hope?” John joked as the three all took their seats at the booth.
“Of course!”
“So- let’s start with some drinks?” Micah said, slamming his hand onto the table.
“Oh, I’ve already started.”
“Beer, dude? Don’t be a bitch- lets hit this. I’m getting shots. Whiskey for you… and what about you babe?”
“Just a sangria,” she said.
Micah slammed his hand down again.
“Alright- be right back guys!” he said, getting up and moving towards the bar. John watched as he moved away, feeling a slight bit of tension now that it was only him and Julie.
‘Why did he leave me here with her?’ he thought to himself. ‘I don’t know this girl- this is awkward…’
“So…” she began, breaking the silence. “How long have you been married?”
“Oh-” his demeanor suddenly shifted. “Actually… I’m recently divorced.”
“Oh shit!” she threw her hand to her forehead. “Fucking Christ Micah, he didn’t tell me that! I’m so sorry, I wouldn’t have-“
“No, no, no… It’s fine, actually kinda cool he doesn’t tell everyone my business.”
“Well, I’m sorry. That’s awful and I hate to hear it.”
“Honestly? I think I’m better off alone.” John took a swig of his mug. Julie opened her mouth to speak just as Micah arrived with the drinks.
“Aaaaaaand here we are everybody-” he passed the drinks around the table. “-we breaking the ice okay?”
“Actually, I brought up the divorce you definitely didn’t warn me about… so there’s that,” she sneered playfully at Micah, grabbing her sangria.
“Ah shit- yeah, sorry about that…”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Well…” Julie began. “Are you going to get back on the dating horse?”
“I don’t know- I have a hard time with that one.”
“It’s been six months bro, you gotta get yourself back out there-”
John put a hand up and cut Micah off.
“Fuck that. No. I’d rather not.”
“…why not?” she inquired.
“You know how hard it is for a guy like me? Look, she cheated on me, okay? You know what that’ll do to someone? I know if she’d do it anyone would- I’ll always be competing against tall, good looking guys with money or rizz or whatever the fuck-”
Julie spit out a mouthful of her drink.
“Dude you’re pushing thirty, don’t say-”
“I’m serious,” he continued. “I’m not stupid, I know my prospects are garbage and there’s no point in pushing it. Besides, I don’t even know if I could trust someone again if I wanted to.”
Micah shook his head, downing another shot.
“Bro, you just need someone who’s sweet on ya and willing to suck the soul clean out of you.”
He started mimicking an obnoxious suction sound, stopping only when Julie slapped him in the chest.
“Mi-cah!” she exclaimed through a disgusted expression.
“Dumbass…” John laughed.
“Look, it’s not your looks or your finances,” Julie protested. “It’s your attitude about shit!”
“Oh?” John folded his arms.
“No one likes that negative stuff. That’ll give someone the ick quicker than anything.”
“That’s easy for you to say, you’re a woman. You have it easy when it comes to this stuff.”
“You sound like an incel,” she shook her head.
“Awe c’mon baby!“ Micah said through a nervous grin.
“Um… excuse me…”
A soft-spoken voice broke their chatter. It was a short, slightly frayed looking woman. Almost mouse-like in her stature and appearance, she wore a loose-fitting band tee and baggy jeans that looked about two sizes too large for her frame.
‘She’s almost cute,’ he thought to himself. ‘But the clothes aren’t doing her any favors.’
She leaned onto the table, looking nervous but determined. She turned to him.
“I noticed you came by yourself earlier… and I was wondering if maybe…“
John cut her off decidedly.
“Sorry, I’m married. Not interested.”
“Oh…” her face turned several shades of pink as she looked down to her feet. “Sorry…”
She quickly walked away, taking a seat at the bar alone. She fidgeted with an empty glass, not looking up from it.
“What the fuck was that?!” Julie exclaimed.
“Not my type.” John said matter-of-factly before taking another swig of whiskey.
“But she was cute!”
“Eeeeeh…” Micah shook his head. “Not really. Definitely a brown-bag special.”
John laughed as Julie scowled.
“You know, you’re pretty heartless considering that spiel you just tried to lay on us.”
John’s smile faded.
“Maybe I just don’t want to open up right now!” he said defensively.
“Oh, the whole wounded man schtick…“ Julie rolled her eyes.
The two bickered back and forth like this, Micah occasionally interjecting with an attempt at a comical aside only to be quickly shot down. The three passed drinks around for another hour or so as the place around them began to thin, their conversations eventually becoming the loudest element of the bar’s ambience.
“Oh my God, let me guess- you don’t eat pussy either??” Julie asked, exasperatedly.
John shrugged.
“For the right woman maybe, but I dunno. Something about it strikes me as a little gross.“
“Gross?! What the hell do you think’s going to happen down there?! Let me guess- you’re totally cool with a bj though, right?”
He shrugged again.
She shook her head and turned to Micah, who had the look of a man who was ready to go home about three drinks and seven arguments ago.
“I can’t with this one- we have to go. I’m tired anyway.” The couple stood up, Micah nodding and giving a silent salute to John.
“It was nice meeting you- try not to be too bitter,” she half joked before they made their way to the exit. John watched as the two left before returning to his last remaining whiskey.
‘Time to call it too, I guess,’
He glanced over the remaining crowd once more…
…just in case.
And that’s when he saw her.
She sat at the bar by herself, her looks alone enough to give John a pause. She couldn’t have been older than him- a beautiful, dark-haired woman wearing a short skirt, Doc Martins, and a low-cut tight-fitting shirt. She looked back at him, with voluptuous lips and bold, blue eyes locked with his. She let a playful smirk form before gesturing for him to come over. Not wasting another moment, he stood from the booth and started walking, making his way through the thinning crowd over to the vacant stool next to her.
This didn’t feel real.
“Hello there,” she said playfully, a soft southern drawl seemingly oozing with honey escaping from her ruby red lips.
“Whiskey?”
“Ya know, normally it’s the other way around when it comes to this type of thing…” he took his seat beside her.
“Well, I’m not normal, I guess. I’d like to think I’m different than your typical girl. And maybe I got tired of waiting on you to make the move. Please, drink with me.” She gestured towards the whiskey in front of him. “I watched you with your friends over there and tried to order what I thought was the same thing.”
“Well,” he said, raising the glass to his lips. “You were spot on.”
‘…You were spot on? Really? Come on, man…’ he thought. ‘Don’t blow this.’
“Are you from around here? …Outta town…?”
“Oh… I’m just passing through. I don’t really have a game plan on where I’m going to end up, I like to just see where things take me.”
“No obligations, huh?”
“Well, some-” she paused, reaching for her whiskey glass and downing the entirety of it before continuing. “-nothing really a fella like you would be interested in though.”
“Try me.”
She smiled.
“Are you into spiritual stuff?”
He chuckled, taking another sip of his drink.
“No, can’t say that I am.”
“See?” she said, playfully pushing his arm. “No point in talking about it if you’re going to make fun.”
“I’m not making fun,” he said through a laugh. “Just can’t say I follow the stuff.”
“Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself, Mr…?”
“John. And there’s not much to tell…”
‘Come on, don’t choke this up… don’t choke this up…’
“I work in engineering at an aluminum die-casting plant.”
“Oooooooh-” she cooed through pursed lips. “A blue-collar man. I like that.”
“Well, I don’t want to be there forever,” he began defensively before taking another drink.
“Hey… I think it’s sexy,” she placed her hand on his. “…Keep going. I wanna know more.”
He gulped.
“Shy?”
“N-no…” he stammered. “It’s just been a while since I’ve put myself out there.”
“Oooooh… I’m sorry to hear that pumpkin, bad experience?”
“Divorced, actually.”
“That’s awful- maybe she just didn’t know what she had.”
He started to blush.
“What about you? I mean, beyond the spiritual stuff.”
“My friends just call me V.”
“Mysterious and alluring… I’m into it.”
‘You’re so rusty at this…’ he thought.
“You know what?” she said, lowering her eyes and moving closer. “Let’s get out of here. I’m staying close- just next door. We can walk there.”
She raised an eyebrow and lowered her voice to a whisper.
“You know… if you want to.”
She bit her lip and looked up at him.
John noticed from the corner of the bar the woman from before. She had seemingly overheard the entire exchange. The two locked eyes for a second before she quickly looked the other way- long enough for him to see the tears forming in her eyes.
“Come on,” V continued. “Follow me.”
She rose from her seat, leading him by the hand. He followed suit behind her through the bar.
He could hear the woman’s sobs as they made their way to the exit.
V led John by the hand outside and along the sidewalk.
“Here- just right here,” she said as she pointed forward. They stopped before a run-down hotel. A flickering neon sign reading “Philly-Side Inn” illuminated the otherwise darkened lot, albeit sporadically.
“Just a little further.”
She led him through the parking lot and by a series of cracked and dilapidated doors before finally stopping at one.
“This is it- right here,” she jiggled the door handle for a moment, eventually getting it open and pushing the door open. She turned and smiled at John, gesturing inwards.
It was so… dark.
The sheer intensity of it was enough to give him pause.
“After you…” she said in her most alluring whisper. He blushed at the implication her voice was giving, immediately snapping out of his train of thought. Was he really going to hesitate now?
Of course not.
He proceeded into the room, the blackness swallowing everything in his vision. He heard the door shut behind him, a loud thud ruminating throughout the enclosure.
Click.
She turned to hit the light switch, the fluorescent hum and off white light beaming around the room.
It had the appearance of a once cozy home away from home, but time and bad housekeeping had obviously caught up with it.
Grease-stained walls, lumpy queen-sized bed, busted looking nightstand with a singular brass lamp, severely outdated wallpaper, and a small television set that had to be from the nineties.
It was a dump.
“Not the fanciest, but it’s mine for the night,” her soft purr broke the silence as she kicked off her boots.
“Well…” she approached John, pressing a finger to his chest. “Yours, too.”
“It’s kind of ugly,” he joked nervously.
She let out a boisterous laugh, exaggeratedly wiping tears from her eyes.
“You’re so funny!” she said, playfully pushing against his chest.
He could feel his heart in his throat.
“…Nervous?”
“N-no,” he stammered.
She eased closer to him, their lips almost meeting through a coy smirk.
“Let me freshen up- wait here.”
She pulled away, her stare never breaking as she walked backwards into the darkness. He watched as she disappeared, waiting for a light to turn on from the bathroom.
It never came.
Weird- but before he could ponder it further, she had returned almost as soon as she had left.
Her stare still unbroken, her grin still present. He would be unsettled if he wasn’t so desperately horny.
“Where did you even go?” he said through a half-chuckle.
“Shut the fuck up and kiss me.”
Not wasting another second on questioning a single ounce of what was about to be the best night of his life, he promptly shut the fuck up and proceeded to kiss her. Immediately it became passionate, her taking charge and aggressively nibbling at his lips and sucking at his tongue.
She pushed him away as she started slinking backwards towards the bed. She dropped her skirt and pulled off her shirt, laying back on the mattress completely bare. She gestured for him with her finger before spreading her legs.
“Come over here and fucking eat it.” she said- her voice crackling ever so slightly.
He pulled off his shirt and leaned over her on the bed for a kiss. She placed her hand over his mouth and repeated:
“Fucking eat it.”
He nodded, moving down and following orders. Her body writhed with ecstasy as his heart raced, her moans crackling with a growl. Her thighs painfully gripped the sides of his head, trapping him in between.
Running short on breath, he tried to pull away only to feel her hand shove his face further in. Liquid began to gush, flowing through his mouth and running down his throat. The taste of copper filled his taste buds; the metallic scent flooded his nostrils. He started to sputter and cough, desperately trying to break free as her guttural moans began to crack into a deep laughter.
It was blood.
“FUCKING EAT IT! FUCKING EAT IT! FUCKING EAT IT!” she screeched through her demented cackles.
He pushed against her with all his might, her legs never loosening their grip from around his head. Desperate, John balled his fist tightly and started pounding as hard as he could against her stomach.
Giggling manically, she finally released his head from her grip. Coughing and sputtering, John stumbled off the bed onto the carpet with a loud thud.
“Je-Jesus Christ-” he managed to say before coughing up more. “What the fuck-”
“…John?” she said with a whimper.
He slowly looked up to the bed. She was lying on her side, staring down at him.
Docile. Trembling.
With tears in her eyes, she spoke again.
“Why… why did you hit me?”
He shook his head, not saying a word. He could feel the air around him growing colder by the second.
“I- I don’t understand- was I not good?”
She began to sob. Every whimper seemed to echo, as if all sound had somehow escaped from this room. “Why did you hit me?”
“I-I… I didn’t-” he began, stumbling over every syllable.
“Wasn’t it good…?” The sobs stopped. Her ruby-red lips formed a sadistic smile. “…We can try again.”
He started to crawl backwards toward the door as her body began to rise in an unnatural, twitchy fashion, her gaze and smirk never breaking.
“Come on…” her voice crackled, a deep guttural rumbling breaking through. “Let’s…try…again…”
She stood before John, blood still running freely and dripping onto the floor. Her features started to exaggerate, almost as if she was made of wax and melting. Her eyes began to glow a faint orange as the bone structure in her face became increasingly sharpened and pointed.
Cackling, she took a step towards the nightstand and grabbed the lamp. His eyes widened with fear as she readied herself, brandishing it over her head.
“What are you doing?!” he screamed out, scrambling backward. John threw his arms up hastily to shield his face. “NO, DON’T!”
The lamp cracked into his forearms with tremendous force, blood flying against the wall and fiery pain exploding throughout his limbs. He let out a desperate scream.
“SOMEBODY HELP ME!”
She let out a vicious giggle before readying the lamp again. He braced himself for impact as she lashed again and again, each hit ripping more flesh from his arms.
She lashed out repeatedly, his screams turning into pained yelps. She paused as he trembled from the pain, letting out an anguished groan. She looked down at him writing in agony before laughing again, readying the lamp once more.
‘DO SOMETHING!’ his brain screamed at him.
He kicked rapidly at her feet, making contact and causing her to stumble backwards dropping the lamp.
‘GO!’
John thrust himself up and ran to the door. He desperately fumbled around the door handle, the blood making his hand slippery and the handle impossible to get a good grip on. He looked back at her slowly stepping closer.
It felt like the air pressure was fluctuating wildly; John’s ears continuously rang and popped, intensifying with every she took.
Click.
After seconds that felt like agonizing eons, he flung the door open and threw himself out into the cold night, slamming the door behind him. Leaning into it with all his weight, he barricaded the door with his body.
THUD.
It shook as she threw herself against the other side.
“Johnathan…” her soft, honey-drenched voice cooed through the door. “Open up baby…”
She let out a gurgled choking sound before clearing her throat and speaking once more, this time in a tenor much deeper than any he had ever heard before.
“Open the fucking door. OPEN THE DOOR!!!”
The door began to violently shake, a red glow emitting from around it. John held tight, gritting his teeth and trembling from the sheer force of it all.
And then…
…it stopped.
Footsteps thundered from behind the frame, moving further away before growing quiet.
John let out a shaky sigh, not loosening his grip or posture. He looked behind him, surveying the parking lot.
It was empty except for one rustic car and a dense fog that now engulfed the area. It was hard to see beyond a few feet. He could’ve sworn the parking lot had been full when they arrived…
…and the weather clear…
“What the hell?” he said under his breath.
The red glow dissipated.
John backed away from the door and turned towards the car. He made his way to the driver’s side door, looking through the window- he didn’t see any keys.
“…Fuck!”
He jerked the door open, rummaging frantically through the interior.
“FUCK!” frustrated, he slammed his fist into the dash. Before the pain could register, something latched onto his leg — a searing grip, like fire with fingers, yanked him sideways. He landed headfirst on the pavement with a loud, meaty thud.
“HELP!” he bellowed through a mouthful of blood. “ANYBODY, PLEASE?!?”
The creature scurried over before rising to stand over him. John looked up, frozen in fear. She plopped herself forcefully onto his waist and straddled him to the ground, pinning his arms down. He let out a painful groan.
“Please…” he whimpered.
“GIVE… ME…” she gurgled. “…YOUR… SOUL…”
She opened her mouth to reveal a bright red light pouring out. John jerked desperately, unable to break from her grip. She leaned closer, her mouth growing larger and larger. “NO!!!!” he screamed as her mouth began to grow over his. She bit down through the flesh of his face, the pain from her razor teeth piercing through his cheeks eventually dulling into an icy numbness. He could feel everything around him go cold as his life force slowly drained and the world grew darker by the second…
Detective Matthews kneeled, his mouth dropping and the his face turning a sickly white.
The body was withered and sunken in, with the appearance of a borderline-mummified corpse. Chunks of it’s face were missing, eyes sunken in. Blood and bile strewn everywhere; the smell was putrid.
“…Jesus- okay, thank you, that’s enough.”
The detective gestured for the man to put down the sheet, and he obliged. The two stood before Matthews shook his head again.
“Call any family- play it off as a missing persons situation for now. I don’t even know- just treat it like the others.”
He started to walk back to his car before stopping, turning to face the others.
“What room did he check into?”
“Well,” one of the officers started. “There’s no record of him checking into any room. We checked, and someone’s double checking now. No surveillance of any kind- owner’s a cheap skate- but we did notice…” the officer moved towards the door directly in front of the body. It was slightly ajar. “…this.”
He gestured towards the door handle. Dried up blood was smeared around it. Matthews approached the officer.
“I’m assuming you looked inside?”
“Yeah, look-” the officer pushed the door open. The two men surveyed the room before them; nothing seemed peculiar or out of place, just a bland and grease-stained hotel room.
“Nothing.”
Matthews shook his head.
“Ugly room.”
“A clean one, so far- we’ve found nothing.”
“Check again,” the detective gestured to the door handle. “And see who that belongs to.”
He turned from the doorway, making his way through the crowd and back to his car. He took his seat before retrieving a pack of cigarettes from the center console. He pulled one from the pack, putting it to his lips and lighting it up.
“…What the fuck?”
Jeff DeMarco Books.com 