Horror - Short
This story is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious and any similarities to actual persons, locations, or events is coincidental. This work cannot be used to train artificial intelligence programs. No AI tools were used in the writing of this story.
All rights reserved. Olympic Drive Copyright © Eddie Generous 2026
OLYMPIC DRIVE
Butterflies square danced in her guts. Peeking from the corner of an eye, the sight was beautiful. The coral pink sky fell over the mountains far into the horizon. Felicity wanted to express this sentiment. The tongue rubbing against her tongue quieted this urge. Contact was so much better than words. Hands roved in soft exploration.
“Be patient, there’s more,” Keah whispered.
It was the most romantic date Felicity had ever been on and this despite that it took place on an aluminum fishing boat. There were rod couplers around the hull and nets stashed in the corners. The orange and blue safety jackets made for a soft spot to lie and watch the August sundown in their bathing suits—bright yellow with navy stripes and lettering. The official colors of the PRU swim team, worn proudly, though neither had yet taken a class there.
“Enough for me. Come on. You promised. Training’s over!” Felicity said, aching for it.
Keah bought into the notion of no fooling around during training. She promised they’d get back to all the good stuff once they’d both made the A-team, but not a second sooner. It was never really a question for Keah, her primetime status was a guarantee. She was a star shooting skyward.
The rule helped Felicity take the last spot, bumping off an angry veteran.
What Keah hadn’t mentioned was that once the season began, it would be all training. Being less than a second behind the final Olympic spot while still in high school was one hell of a motivator to keep her eyes on Tokyo. There’d be breaks, short blips, but she lived for one thing and it was not the physical gratification of sex—most nights.
Keah got to her knees and shuffled to the driver’s seat. She started the engine. Clunky noise polluted the otherwise perfect night.
“Now where you taking me?” Felicity shouted from her seat on the floor, sliding back on a wave of life vests. “Hey, slow down!”
It excited Keah to play a little rough now and then. Felicity was the perfect target. Wound tight, like a stretched elastic band, little things brought the color up in her cheeks. Blood really pumping, she’d be excited and much more satisfying.
“You’ll see!”
—
“This is amazing. You did this all for me?”
Felicity dripped. Her black hair pressed flat to her scalp, strands hanging over her ivory shoulders. In the soft, orange candlelight, she looked almost porcelain.
“No. I brought the candles and wine this morning, but all this stuff is like a tourist hoax. Danny Thole, you know the skinny dude with the shiny head that helps sometimes at the pool? His family runs a scuba business and brings tourists here.”
“Oh. Still. It’s amazing.”
“Yeah, and the million-year-dead volcano has a valve under there.” Keah pointed to the rocky ring around the steaming pool. Dozens of fat, several hours’ dripping, white candles in brass holders lit the scene. “Story is, mutinous pirates hid their treasure down here. They fled when Red Caesar promised all their heads on pikes.”
“Wait, his own crew?”
Keah smirked. “Of course. They knew where he’d hidden his treasure.”
“Back story just makes it hotter.” Felicity grinned.
Seeing Keah in her perfect form often was tease enough, but to be only feet away and not touching while the dancing flames sparkled in her deep hazel eyes, against her wet ebony cheeks, was almost painful. Felicity shivered and goose bumps rose.
“Come on,” Keah said, holding out her hand and leading Felicity up the rocks.
Wine bottle passed. Suits set aside. Bodies cooked in the hot bath. The wait was over.
—
The first release was incredible, the second was slightly lesser, and the third was yet to come. Later. There was a second bottle of strawberry wine and still at least half an hour to midnight.
“So what happened to Mr. Caesar?” Felicity asked, afloat, leaning shoulders and back against Keah’s breasts.
“Some say Red Caesar died marooned on an island a thousand nautical miles from the coast.” Keah adopted a witchy tone. “Others say that he trailed his mutinous traitors to this very cave!” She cackled.
“You goof. But really.”
“That’s it. Thing he didn’t seem to understand was that once he murdered his crew, his ship was stuck. One of those mad-with-power situations.”
“Be handy to find his treasure. I’m sure there’d be enough to cover tuition,” Felicity said.
“I doubt it.”
If it wasn’t for the partial scholarships and grants, Felicity wouldn’t be in university at all. She never asked about Keah’s financials. It was unnecessary. If PRU didn’t cover her breakfast to bedtime, she’d be someplace else. Still, it was fine to joke about money since everyone else on the team was the daughter of wealth. Most of the school was like that.
“What would you do if you found a treasure, or won a lottery, or whatever? Came into big money?”
Keah thought a moment while gulping down sweet wine from the clear bottle. Felicity let her body float away in search of a seat that afforded her a sightline to Keah while they spoke.
“The lottery is a gag. It’s there to keep folks fantasizing about being Beyoncé without ever working for it or having the natural features.”
“All right, what about Red Caesar’s treasure?”
“I’d leave that shit alone.” Keah wore a serious face for exactly three seconds before busting into a drunken body laugh. “We’re dry. Be right back. Dad always has at least a six-pack in the cooler.”
Keah had tied the boat to a moor tapped into the rock before they dove down to the entrance of the cave.
“Want me to come with you?” Felicity asked, uncertain how she felt about being in the cave alone, but also knowing that getting up was a pain.
“Stay put and think sexy thoughts. Training starts soon,” Keah said, climbing out of the spring pool.
Normally, mention of training would drive Felicity to quiet anger, but she was drunk and horny, and the promise of more fun was enough to abate the grim emotion. Instead of arguing, she watched Keah step away, suit remaining on the rock ledge. The waterproof flashlight clicked alive near the cave’s entrance and then quickly disappeared underwater.
Once the sound of another living, breathing soul departed, Felicity recognized the quiet. Only the gentle lapping at the mouth of the cave created a soundtrack. It played alongside the lightly sulphuric smelling bubbles emerging in the pool around her. From somewhere overhead, a gentle breeze wafted through cracks in the stone.
The cave was a corner to a much larger structure. An island of birds and a few bears, though nobody knew exactly how they got there—too far to swim, too far by a goodly sum. They were there nonetheless.
Time alone was time to think. She and Keah weren’t officially dating, but neither saw anyone else. And when it came time, if the time ever came, what then?
“You’re being ridiculous,” Felicity whispered to the thought. What was time, really? Life wasn’t a board game.
She closed her eyes.
What’s taking her?
Do we really need the beer?
The sounds around Felicity seemed to sense her budding discomfort, fed it and heightened it. The lapping water increased its activity. The waft became a gust. The warm bubbles quickened.
“Come on, Keah.”
Felicity stared at the black entrance surrounded by the dripping white candles and imagined the flashlight rising. Over and over, from the dark came the light, if only in her mind.
There was a snap, like a tree felled in a storm and the life drained from the cave. The lapping stalled, the bubbles ceased, and the whistling gust stilled.
Like sandpaper played over soft vocal folds. “Red is the captain,” said a single, quiet voice.
“Keah, stop it.”
A chorus of rusty voices replied with whispers, “Deed-yay-way.”
“Ha! Ha! Real funny!”
A little louder: “The lord of blade.”
“Creed-yay-way.”
“I’m not scared! This is stupid, so you can come out now!”
Light shined dimly from the stilled waters at the mouth of the cave and Felicity wore a vengeful grin. She’d get her for this.
“Red is the captain.”
“Lead-yay-way.”
“Ugh, so funny! You’re a jerk!” Felicity said waiting for the pirate play to continue.
It was obviously something the scuba leader used to thrill the tourists. The sounds ceased and the light from the mouth breached surface. Keah rose, a six-pack of Budweiser in one hand and the little flashlight in the other.
“I can’t believe you did that!”
Keah climbed out of the water and frowned. Felicity was in no mood to stick around and climbed up onto the ledge, grabbing her suit along the way.
“What’s wrong?” Keah asked.
“I know you like to get a rise out of me, but the pirate stuff isn’t funny.”
“What…no don’t be mad. I didn’t mean to take so long. I thought I’d better check our phones and—no, don’t get dressed. We’re having a good time. I’m sorry I took so long.”
“Ha! I don’t care about how long you took! You’re still trying to trick me! Come on. Lead yay way, back to the boat.”
Felicity held out Keah’s suit to her. Keah pouted, confused, but accepted the suit.
“I’m not trying to trick you. I’m sorry about going fast in the boat. Is that what this is all about?”
“Nice try!” Felicity had become livid.
“Nice try at what?” Keah screeched back.
Booming, scraping, terrible. “Master of the trade!”
“Bleed-yay-way!”
“Red is the captain!”
“Feed-yay-way!”
“What the hell is that?” Keah asked, gripping her suit to her chest.
“Yeah, right!” Felicity shouted, though not certain there was a game to be had. Not anymore.
The candles fizzled as if drenched by an invisible wave. Pure dark. Felicity reached for Keah’s grip and knew then that whatever was upon them was not the doing of a playful lover.
“Why did you bring us here?” Felicity carried tears in her voice.
“It’s…people come here all the time,” Keah whined.
Low, but no less grating, the solitary lead returned to the beginning. “Red is the captain.”
“Deed-yay-way,” chimed the chorus.
Tiny sparks flashed upon the candlewicks.
“Lord of the blade.”
“Creed-yay-way.”
The sparks crackled, drying away the seawater.
“Red is the captain.”
“Lead-yay-way.”
Minute flames flickered.
“Master of the trade.”
“Bleed-yay-way.”
The flames took hold and gentle light seeped.
“Red is the captain.”
“Feed-yay-way.”
Oranges, yellows, and reds painted the cave in a prismatic glow. Shadows danced behind the two dozen shimmery men packed into the space, backs lining the walls. Unreal. Donning the archaic and filthy garb of souls centuries gone. Ghastly grinning mouths rode amid pale beards, beneath deep-socketed eyes, dark and foreboding gazes. Dated felt hats. Hooks for hands. Leather purses. Swords. Daggers. Flintlock pistols.
Felicity screamed. Keah mouthed haplessly like a landed fish.
“Ey, gold ye bade,” said the rough whisper of the man stepping toward the lovers.
A walking cliché: black eye-patch riding his pale, deep-red moustachioed face. Sneering lips stretched thinly above a scarred chin. Bald head hidden beneath a scarlet bandanna. A jacket of heavy grey material, red threads holding it together. The man limped as he walked. A long crooked sword bounced against his right thigh. Held between his hands was a small wooden chest.
“Ey, gold ye bade,” he whispered again, stopping two feet from them. The lid of the chest popped open.
Keah nor Felicity had the nerve to look away. Both knew it was him. Him.
“What do you want?” Felicity managed to say, gripping Keah’s toned form against her.
“Ey, gold ye bade,” Red Caesar said again.
The crew began stomping a rhythm.
“What do you want from us?” Felicity screamed, her eyes no longer peering into the empty box. She stared at the captain, stared into his lively, long-dead eyes.
“Ey, gold ye bade.”
“Keah, dive down. There’s no way they can keep up,” Felicity whispered, inching back toward the mouth of the cave, that wonderful, inviting hole in the floor.
Keah didn’t move, her eyes remained pinned on the chest.
“Ey, gold ye bade.”
“Come on, Keah!”
Felicity tried to pull Keah. The lover’s gaze remained welded to the chest. Keah’s eyes flashed, reflecting a metallic canary flicker.
Red Caesar nodded in agreement.
The chest lid flipped closed and the stomping ceased, the chorus chanted, “Seed-yay-pay.”
“Come on, Keah!”
Keah finally turned and said three words she’d never said to another woman before, “I love you,” Unfortunately, for Felicity, she added, “but I need all the help I can get.”
“Wha—?” Felicity said no more.
Heavy, the hands on her throat let free only gargling sounds and the high screech of limited air passing through windpipe.
Splash, down into the dark depths.
Felicity’s head struggled to gasp from above the surface. The effort was feeble. Keah was always the stronger and more willful. Surprise and terror stole hope, stole Felicity’s tomorrows.
—
Keah Burr gazed out at the crowd from atop the podium for the third time in three days. The tune O Canada filled the chlorine-scented poolside. The blue swim lanes streamed before her, beneath her high stance.
Pride swelled her heart.
Relief oozed from her pores.
Guilt fought for inches.
Over the past three years, she thought of that chest and the gold medals within and wondered how she would’ve fared without the seed payment. The thought made her sick. All that risk was an ugly consideration.
Damn the guilt. Right there, as she gazed over the awed eyes, those smiling faces, necks craned to peer at the Canadian hero at the top of her game, she decided that during her first interview back on home soil, she would dedicate her Olympic glory to her poor, lost friend and swim partner, Felicity Bell.
XX