Evil Beneath Us

by Laybourne, Alex

  Jeremy was hoisted from the table, just as he thought his lungs were going to burst. Half carried, half dragged, he was wedged between two orderlies and taken away.

  Jeremy wanted to resist, but his body refused to listen to his commands.

  The elevator door slid open, and he saw that the masturbating woman was still there. She lay in the corner, the floor slick around her gaping crotch. Her hand worked as furiously as ever, while with the other she alternated between pinching and stroking her exposed breasts. Held at the angle he was, Jeremy found himself staring at the girl, whose eyes held him in their gaze. He understood her pain. She was prisoner, just like him. The drugs coursing through her system the same as the ones he had been slipped. She opened her mouth and licked her lips, but tears appeared in her eyes, so desperate was her desire to communicate. Does she really understand? Jeremy asked himself. His gaze fell and watched her hands work. He felt bad for taking advantage of her show, but anything was better than the look in her eyes. Her crotch was red, the skin rubbed raw. The aroma of her juices was old, her thighs stained greasy from their continued presence on her flesh.

  The lift rose and soon they were moving back into the corridor.

  “Don’t be gone too long now, sugar. I’ve got something here you are going to love!” she called after the three men. Jeremy, even with his mind softened by drugs, was under no illusion that she was calling to the orderlies, rather than him.

  “Oh, bitch, I know all about what you’ve got,” one of the orderlies, Jeremy couldn’t tell which, responded with a sneer.

  “You know you want it.” She groaned, her back arching.

  “You know you’re going to get it too, slut. So wait there. Be a good little girl and you can take your medicine all night long,” the same orderly answered.

  “You’d better hurry, baby. I’m cumming soon.” She squealed as her body shuddered. Her movements stopped, her legs stiffened, and with a cry she paused to catch her breath.

  Jeremy was thrown into his room. Stumbling, he fell into the bed and rebounded to slump onto the floor. The linoleum was cold, and felt fantastic against his skin. He was not aware of how hot he had felt until the floor’s electric touch sent such waves of cooling pleasure shooting through him.

  He lay there, still, his hand sore, blood seeping through the bandage, his heartbeat resonating through the gash.

  He listened, against his will, but unable to do anything to the contrary, as the young woman’s shuffling footsteps could be heard moving down the corridor. They were replaced by the straining sounds of a bed. The bed creaked with increasing tenacity, while the noises the young woman made moved from groans of pleasure to shrieks of delight and finally to tears.

  “Get off me.” Jeremy heard her tired voice beg, but still the bed creaked, banging into the wall. “Please.” She screamed, but the sound of a fist meeting flesh dulled her cries. The orderly grunted, and finally the ordeal was over.

  Jeremy lay on the floor, tears streaking his face and pooling beneath his head. He listened as the orderly left the room and walked down the corridor. The hatch in his door had been left open, meaning even after the show was over he was forced to listen to the girl’s stifled sobs. He wanted to get up, to reach out to her, but he couldn’t. His eyes grew heavy and before he knew it, Jeremy was whisked away from the conscious world and thrown back into the cold black pool of nothing.

  Chapter 6

  Jeremy woke up feeling scared and alone. The dreamlessness of his slumber, or unconsciousness, he was not sure which best described it, had left him feeling drained.

  There were no clocks in the room, and his watch had been removed sometime between his visit to the police station and his delivery to Doctor Marshall. Jeremy had no way of knowing what time of day it was. All that Jeremy knew was that he had been out for some time. He also knew that he had been visited, because he was no longer stretched out on the floor, but in his bed, and his hand had been re-sutured and bandaged.

  Jeremy got out of bed, his legs heavy, and his body foreign to him. Everything worked, but the reactions were slow. He moved to the window, and looked out across the driveway. There were no sign of any cars; no visitors. The grounds of the facility stretched out away from the house, holding it secluded from the rest of the world. Thick trees, and the rural location meant most people driving by would not even notice the property was there.

  “I hear you moving around in there,” a voice called out in a loud whisper. Jeremy turned around, expecting to find someone in the room with him. He was alone. He walked to the door, the hatch was open. While only a relatively small opening, it afforded him a limited view of the corridor.

  “Hello?” he whispered.

  “You wanna fuck?” the voice came again, and suddenly someone was in front of his door. Two eyes stared at him from close range. One was swollen shut, the skin bruised and tender.

  Jeremy gave a start, taking a step back from the door.

  “It´s all right, sugar. They’ve got you on lockdown for now. But when you get with their program you can come out. We can run and play together. I saw you looking at me. I saw you wanting me. They want me, and they have me at every chance they get. Don´t go being scared now. We can fuck through the walls, baby. It´s all good.” The young woman laughed, her lips pressing against the open hatch, her tongue waving wildly, as if in search of Jeremy’s mouth.

  “You will be addicted to Karen’s pussy in no time, sugar!” she called, moving away from the door. As Karen walked away, Jeremy moved back to the door and strained to see her. She was limping, and naked. That was all he could tell before she disappeared from view. It didn’t take long before her groans of pleasure once again echoed down the hallway. She paid a visit to at least three more rooms before the orderlies came and claimed her. Doctor Marshall was with them this time. Karen fought as she was taken into her room, but her protestations soon fell silent, and a few moments later, her room emptied and silence once again fell over the floor.

  The rest of the day passed in a slow haze. Jeremy watched either through the window, or through the open hatch in his door. Both provided an equally uneventful view of the world. Karen remained silent, the door to her room closed, and the hatch locked shut.

  At some point in his new timeless existence, Jeremy fell asleep.

  Sitting up with a start, Jeremy gulped at the air, drawing deep, frantic breaths. It was as if he had been trapped underwater, only breaking the surface in the final instant before his body gave up the fight. He was sweating blood. The world was hot, unbearably so. Jeremy looked around. He was no longer in his room at the institute. He was sitting on cold, damp earth. The air was ripe with the stench of the ground, only there was something else; a meaty aroma that Jeremy found familiar, but could not place. He turned around, and cried out. Behind him, crouched down on his haunches, hovering inches from Jeremy’s face, was Simon. Only, he did not look like the Simon Jeremy knew. His body was raw, the skin removed, revealing the juicy muscles beneath. Simon’s shed hide was strung up on the wall behind him, like a suit jacket waiting to be collected from the dry cleaners.

  “Simon?” Jeremy stuttered the words with disbelief.

  The creature that had once been Jeremy’s best friend stared at him with a blank expression on his featureless face. The lack of flesh made it impossible to read the emotion on his friend’s face, while the wet meat gave little away.

  Jeremy saw the muscles on Simon’s brow tighten and then relax. He took it to be a sign of thought. The wet sinews and ligaments that held the jaw in place twitched, and juices dripped from the meat around the joint like a wrung dishcloth.

  “We woke them. They are coming, and they are hungry for more.” Simon growled. The voice was rasping, the vocal chords loose in Simon’s throat. The words were out of sync with the movements of the jaw. It distracted Jeremy, but not enough to eliminate the echo of the words in his mind.

  “Who?” Jeremy asked, scrambling to his feet. He saw then that they were back
in the bunker. The soft ground beneath their feet was sucking at Jeremy’s bare soles. He kicked out in surprise.

  “They came for me, and they cannot be stopped. They cannot be controlled.” Simon growled once again. He moved, raising his arm towards Jeremy who flinched and fell backwards, landing heavily on the ground. Mud splashed against his face, and he tasted then that it was blood that made the ground so wet. It was sodden with it; a quagmire of gore.

  “I’m dreaming.” Jeremy pinched himself, resorting to slaps when that did not work. “You’re not real.”

  “No. I am real. I am still alive, Jeremy. Listen to me.” Simon’s body made wet slapping sounds as it rose to its feet and took a stumbled step forward. With his arms outstretched, it looked as if he was going to hug his friend. “They have tasted your fear, and now they lust for your flesh. They will come. You must–”

  Jeremy never heard the rest of Simon’s sentence for suddenly he was back in the institute. He was in the uncomfortable bed, his skin itching from the blanket. Sweat covered every inch of him. He was not alone. Something was on top of him, leaning over him. Jeremy felt panic rise in his gut, and he made attempts to move, to push away the figure that smothered him. It was dark, he couldn’t easily make anything out of the madness. His brain was still befuddled with the fading remnants of sleep.

  “Shhhh. It’s okay, honey,” a familiar female voice soothed. The intoxicating aroma of flowers filled Jeremy’s nose.

  Jeremy recognized the voice, but had no time to associate a face with the words, for his mouth was filled. The woman lowered herself upon him, and her exposed breast filled his mouth. The ample bosom was soft and pressed against him, forcing itself deeper and deeper. Like a babe on the teat, Jeremy sucked. His mouth closed and his tongue latched onto the offered tit.

  “Drink, baby, drink it up,” she cooed. Jeremy’s mouth filled suddenly. He could not pick a word that would accurately describe the sensation. Something filled his mouth and dribbled down his throat. It was warm and came in torrents that seemed to squirm as they forced themselves into his gut.

  Jeremy choked. He coughed and spluttered. A disgusting yet familiar taste rose in his brain. Hot and coppery. Blood. She was forcing him to drink blood. They have tasted your fear. Now they lust for your flesh. Simon’s final words echoed in Jeremy’s head. He gathered his strength and pushed out at the body as hard as he could. But she was gone. Jeremy’s thrust brought him bolt upright in bed. He was alone. The room was empty. His heart thundered in his chest, and the stale taste of bad pennies resonated on his taste buds; an experience never to be forgotten. He brought his hands to his lips, and they came away red.

  Jeremy heard footsteps in the corridor; they drew closer. Lying back down, Jeremy pretended to be asleep, playing dumb. His head felt clearer than it had been in a long time. He wanted to keep it that way; play along and see what opportunities arose.

  “Wake up. Eat this.” The morose voice of one of the male orderlies grunted. Yet another person to visit his room. He was a short, white man with long hair tied back in a ponytail. He had long sideburns that came down and met his moustache, effectively separating his face into two. He appeared to buy Jeremy’s feigned attempt at sleep. Either that or just didn’t give a crap, because he turned and left without saying another word, leaving the tray of food on the table.

  Jeremy’s stomach cramped in anticipation of the meal it was about to receive. He didn’t know when he last ate, but still, he was hesitant to devour the food he had been given. It didn’t take long, however, before he was forced to surrender to the demands of his stomach. Jeremy attacked the food with gusto; a sandwich and a large bowl of what he hoped was tomato soup. This was washed down by a glass of orange juice.

  Releasing a belch that any man would have been proud of, Jeremy stood up and stretched.

  His shoulders popped and he could feel the appreciation of the muscles in his back. His head started to spin, and his stomach cursed him for gluttony. Jeremy dropped to his knees, vomited all over the floor and passed out.

  When he came to, Jeremy had once again been transported from his room into what looked like the same room he had been in for his last conversation with Doctor Marshall. The decoration was the same and the video camera in the corner was still focused on him. The only difference was that restraints now held Jeremy in his chair. His head swam, and his mouth was bone dry. He looked around, expecting to see Dr Marshall in the room with him. The doctor was nowhere to be seen.

  Something moved in the corner, far to Jeremy’s left, behind him. He heard the sound of a shuffled footstep. He saw something, craning his neck to get a better view. Jeremy screamed and began thrashing around in his stool as one of the sand creatures bore down on him. Its lipless mouth gaping hungrily at the aroma of his flesh. The raw skin glistened under the cheap lighting making it look like the creature was wearing body armour. Not that that would have ever been necessary against a foe such as Jeremy.

  The creature took a couple of steps and froze. The door to the room opened and in walked Doctor Marshall. He looked at Jeremy, whose thrashing increased in the presence of salvation. Even if it was in the form of a man he was not certain he could trust. Anything would be better than being eaten.

  “Get me out of here,” Jeremy cried, wrenching at his bonds.

  “Jeremy, calm down, calm down. The restraints are for your protection. Last time we spoke you were rather agitated. Don’t you remember?” The doctor smiled.

  “No, you don’t … can’t you see. Look, there in the corner. One of them. Please, you need to get me out of here.” Jeremy pleaded as tears streaked his face in scalding rivulets of terror.

  The doctor looked around, as calm and collected as ever. “Jeremy, I don’t see anything,” he answered.

  Jeremy turned around and stared into the face of the creature which had crept even closer, mere inches from his face. Jeremy tried to scream, but could not. He felt the warm spread of urine as his bladder released.

  “Now, I think we had better get started.” The doctor sat, ignoring the monster that occupied the room with them.

  Jeremy looked around. The creature was still there. It had retreated into the corner of the room, but he was sure that its presence was a reality.

  “You have to see it. We need to leave. It’s going to kill me.” Jeremy felt the panic beginning to build. It swept over him in waves.

  “Jeremy.” The doctor was firm, his tone bordering on angry. “Stop wasting my time. There is nothing there. Now, settle down and tell me the truth.” He balled his fists, his face flushed red with rage.

  “I am telling you the truth. Please, get me out of here. It can taste my fear.” Alternating flushes of hot and cold ran over Jeremy, leaving him both sweating and shivering in his seat.

  “I’m not talking about that right now, Jeremy. Don’t you see? It is all connected. It is all in your mind. Until you open up and tell me the truth, these creatures will haunt you forever.” The doctor shifted in his seat. His eyes scanned the room, but soon settled back on Jeremy.

  “What do you want to hear me say?” Jeremy broke down. The tears that had been clouding his vision began to fall.

  The doctor slammed his fist down onto the table. “I want you to tell me the truth about what happened to Simon, dammit!” His eyes flashed with fury and Jeremy felt the heat from his seething emotions wash over him.

  “I already told you the truth,” Jeremy responded. His voice grew louder and louder. His face tingled, and soon became numb.

  “Yes, you said that already. I also recall telling you that I did not believe you. Tell me something, Jeremy. What did you really see down there? What really happened?” Doctor Marshall pushed, standing up from the table.

  Jeremy flinched. He wanted to stand but his body was heavy. The restraints held him firm, but also erect, meaning he could also not slump forward, or hide. The sand creature growled in the corner. Jeremy opened his mouth, only it was not words that fell from his lips, but a thick st
ream of semi-congealed vomit. Yellow and foul smelling, it splattered the table and floor, dripping over Jeremy’s clothes.

  Doctor Marshall did nothing to acknowledge the stinking expulsion, and continued to stare Jeremy down.

  “I’ve been watching you over the last few days, Jeremy. Do you know why?” he asked, adjusting his tie as he sat back down. As he did, another stream of vomit fell from Jeremy’s mouth. “You can learn a lot about a person from watching them. Seeing how they react to the world. Their responses. Do you know what I see when I look at you, Jeremy?” The doctor made no attempt to pause in his dialogue to allow Jeremy to answer. “I see a psychopath. I see a killer. I think you and your buddy went out into the dunes, had a few drinks and then, something just flipped. A switch in your brain. You snapped and killed your friend. Why? Because he was there. Because I believe it is in your nature to kill. To destroy things.” The doctor pulled no punches, and never once did he break his gaze with Jeremy.