The Bunnyman Returns
By PA Nightmares
A year had passed since the Bunnyman massacre. My father, yes, you heard that right, my father was obsessed over that fucking thing. It has left a shadow looming over my life. You think that being his son. I would want to find the suit and put it on. Proving that my father was not a killer and that it was the suit, much like the letter he left me. Oh, that's right, you don't know. Weeks after my father killed my mom and all of their friends, dear old dad had pre-mailed a letter to my best friend Joey's house. Here is what it said.
“Son, if anything happens to your mother and me. I want you to know it was not me. It was the suit. Yes, I spent years obsessing over it. But how I came in possession of the suit was not normal. The shopkeeper refused to sell it to me, and when I left the shop, it was in my back seat. Then after getting it home, it spoke to me and got in my head and made me put it on. If you are reading this, we are dead. I hope you have a good life. I am sorry my obsession did this to our family.”
Every time I read this letter, it made me cry. Knowing I was my father's last thoughts and that he sent me to Joey’s to put me out of harm's way is the only thing I need to know about my father. He was a good person, and he was not in control of himself when my mother and the others were murdered. Okay, enough of the back story. You may be wondering why I am here a year later talking about a crime that most of the world has forgotten about other than my hometown. Well, it's because it’s back. I think it came for me, but I managed to get away again. So I guess it has unfinished business with me, and it will hunt me to it claims my soul as well; here's my story.
It was a week before Easter, god; I hate that holiday. I was walking down the street when I looked over to see a store that I swear was not there before. It simply read “Store of the arcane arts.” In the window sat a Bunny suit. When I made eye contact with it, I could hear whispers in my head. It was like it was calling to me, and before I knew it, I was inside the store. The kindly old shop owner greeted me.
“Well, hello there, lad. What can I do for you?”
I looked up; taken aback, this man was nothing like you expect a person to be that owned this shop. “I'm ok, thank you. How are you?” I said in a friendly tone that was oddly forced.
“I am well, thank you. What can I do for you today?” He asked.
“Nothing, frankly; I did not mean to come in here; it was like I was being called to by that.” I pointed at the Bunny Costume.
The older man’s smile dropped. “I will not sell that to you; if that is what you are thinking, you can get out right now.” He snapped the friendly tone quickly vanished.
I raised my hands in surrender. “You miss, understand me; I don't want to buy it. I have no interest in it beyond what is it, and why did it call to me?” After I said this,s his look softened.
“I am sorry young man, this suit has a bad history, and whenever someone expresses interest in buying it, bad things happen to the owner. In fact, you don't even have to choose; it chooses you. So the fact it called out to you means it wants you next. But you resisted it, meaning your heart is not corrupt or greedy. That is a good thing, young man.”
“What do you mean bad things happen? And that the owner does not choose it. It chooses you? I don't get it; you are acting like it has a life or mind of its own.”
“Young man, that is exactly what I am saying. Do you not know its history?” The old man asked in earnest.
“I do not?” I said to him
“Well, then ill give you the brin rundown. Many years ago, this was used in a demonic ritual, and they bound an ancient demon to the suit, and now anyone that wears it is possessed, devoured, and never seen again. It takes seven lives, six victims, and the wearer, so be glad young man, that you have resister the call of the suit, for it is not a thing to take lightly.” After the old man finished his tale, I realized this might be the same suit my father was obsessed with.
“I think this is the same suit my father wore when he killed my mother and his five friends.”
The old man raised an eyebrow at me. “My lad, do you happen to have a picture of your father?”
I said I did and pulled it out. I showed him the only picture I had of myself, dad, and mom.
A sad look came over him. “Yes, that is him; he bought the suit last year. It is no wonder it called to you; it likes to work its way through families.
“Yeah, dad sent me to a friend and mailed me this.” I showed him the letter, and he spoke again.
“That explains why you are still here. Since your father put you out of harm's way, it feels cheated out of your soul. Young man, you must never go near this suit, or it will clam what it is owed.” Warned the old man.
I shot him a fearful look and said. Then I best get going and fast.” I ran out of the store, But as I passed by the suit, it showed me flashes of my father killing my mother. I blasted through the door like the devil himself was on my heels. All the way home, I cried, tears blurring my sight. When I finally got to my apartment, I slammed the door locking and cried. Joey came out to check on me.
Out of breath, I told him what happened at the wired occult shop. The story the old guy told me and how it freaked me out. Predictably Joey just laughed at me, telling me I was an idiot. However, he did tell me that he likes to go to the shop and see the suit for himself. I tried to talk him out of it, but the next thing I knew, we were out the door and heading to the shop. Walking back, Joey would not shut up about the suit, the massacres, and my father. He was oblivious to how this subject made me feel; it's always been a trait of his that I wished he would fix, but about twenty minutes later, we stood in front of the shop and stared at the bunny suit.
“That is, it matches the description to a tee. We should go in and see how much it is. I want to buy it and show it off to all of our friends.” Joey said, excited about the suit.
“Dude, he will not sell it to you. Let's just go. That thing gives me the creeps; I swear the eyes are following us.”
Joey just rolled his eyes and went into the shop. I sat out on the curb. The voices in my head returned, so I put in my earbuds to drown them out. Not five minutes later, Joey came running out of the shop, a frightened look plastered on his face. I yanked out my earbuds and asked him what had happened?
“That guy is a loon. I simply asked how much the bunny suit was, and he pulled a bat on me, threatening to call the cops if I did not get out.”
“Well, then let's go; the last thing we need is to go to jail for trespassing of whatever ridicules thing the old man tries to pin on us,” I said with a bit of a laugh.
We left and walked back to the house. Joey was a bit disappointed the old man would not sell the suit to him, but it was a running joke by the time we got back. Getting back to the apartment, I went to my room to clean up and change, but I heard Joey scream before I got to do anything. At first, I thought it was a scream of terror but the second one seemed more like excitement. I came out of my room asking him what's going on, and he came out with, you guessed it, that fucking bunny suit. Of course, I wondered him how he got it, had he stolen it, but he denied it, and besides, we walked back to where the store was it if he did steal it’s his ass. But then I had a flashback of how dad came into possession of the suit, and the shopkeeper said it too. It chooses the ones that show interest in it.
“I am going to invite our friends over. I want to show them the suit. You know, you should be there too, with your father and all being one of the killers to use the suit.”
“Fuck you. Can you stop bringing that up? You know it fucked me up in the head, and no, I will not be here for your party. In fact, I will not stay in a house with that fucking suit. I am out of here.”
“Where are you going? Not like you have many options.”
“I'll go to a hotel to after the party, then I want the fucking suit out of the apartment, or I am.”
So I left; when I got to the hotel and checked in, I had a message from Joey. “Hey man, I am sorry. After the party tomorrow I'll have it out of the house. Please come back, man I know I am an ass, but it's part of my charm. Please message me back, bro.”
“As long as the thing is out of the house when I get there, we are good thank you, Joey, see you in two days.”
So for the next two days, I lived like a king. I had room service bring me my food, used the pool, stayed awake all night, and drank booze from a mini-fridge. It was like a vacation. Then it all turned to hell after I came back on the third day. I walked into the apartment, and it was a blood bath, body parts all over the place, blood all over the wall, and in the corner next to a perfectly white bunny suit was a camera that was still recording. I went over and hit play, and this is what I saw.
It started with a close-up of Joey and six of our friends gathered around a table, the suit in the center. There was a bunch of small talks and some drinking, but about an hour in is when things went downhill.
“Hey, Joey, I bet you're not brave enough to put it on.” Someone in the group said.
“Ha, jokes on you; that has been the plan from the very start.” Joey grabbed the suit and left the room minutes later, and he comes back with the suit on and the bunny's head in his hand.
“You were saying,” Joey said with a smile on his face as he put the bunny head on, completing the costume. But the second, he slipped on the head. Joey's demeanor changed completely. He exited the room, leaving everyone else dumbfounded. After he did not immediately return, the rest of the guests continued chatting and drinking.
Roughly around ten minutes had passed by before Joey returned. In his hands, he held an ax. At first, the crowd of people cheered him on, thinking he was paying homage to the murders. That was until he planted the ax in the first one's chest. A sick sound could be heard. The others went running, but the doors slammed shut and locked. They were trapped in the room with no means of escape. Joey spoke, but it was not his voice; it was something much worse.
“You will not escape. I will have my sacrifices. Now run, scream, try and hide, but I will have what I need to grow stronger.”
I'll spare you the details but will say that by the time whatever the entity was, the room was covered in blood on the wall, floor, and ceiling; not a single spot was left clean. After he was done killing his former friend. He cut their heads off. Painting them like fucking easter eggs just like my father did and hid them throughout the house. Once his sick ritual was finished, the suit just fell to the floor, perfectly folded in the middle of a bloody room. Head on top, no blood on the suit, and the blood that pooled towards the suit seemed like it was being absorbed or drank as the suit remained untarnished by the crimson liquid.
After I finished the tape, I called the cops. They came in and found all the heads and body parts. Of course, they thought it was me who did it. Being the son of a spree killer and all but my credit card receipts and the fact I was not on the tape, and you saw joeys face before he put on the fucking head, I was let go. Oh, one thing I forgot to mention my name was written in blood. I am pretty sure the demon that claimed my father wants me; all I can do is stay moving and hope like hell it does not find me. Have a happy Easter, everyone, and if you come across this fuckign suit, please don't show interest or you may be its next victim.