The Familiar Man: A Short Story

by T. R. Stoddard



  The Familiar Man

  T.R. Stoddard

  The Familiar Man

  The names of people, characters, products, companies and/or data mentioned within this document are fictitious and are in no way intended to represent any real individual, company product, or event, unless otherwise noted. No part of this document May be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, for any purpose without express written permission of the author.

  All rights reserved.

  Copyright © 2013 T. R. Stoddard

  Theresa.renee.stoddard@gmail.com

  https://t-r-stoddard.blogspot.com/

  Part One: The Familiar Man

  In the middle of the meadow, my life changed forever. A favorite pastime of mine was transformed into something sinister. I was no longer alone, a strange man stood there beside me. As I took in his haggard, emaciated features there was something familiar about him. I wanted to run home as fast as my feet would carry me, but I felt drawn to the man. The need to discover an unknown connection overrode my better judgment.

  “I feel like I know you.” I spoke softly as not to startle him, the wild look in his eyes painted a picture of hardship. Even as I stared into his troubled eyes, I knew he wasn’t a threat to me. He didn’t respond, not even the slightest blink of recognition.

  “Are you hurt? Do you need help?” I asked, wondering if he could hear me. Again he said nothing.

  I knew it was a bad idea to approach the man, but I did it anyway. I drew nearer to him, and still he didn’t notice my presence. When I stood directly in front of him it appeared as if he was looking right through me. Slowly, I stretched out a hand to touch him lightly on his shoulder. I was met with thin air and my hand passed right through him.

  I jumped back in shock. Either I was asleep in my bed having a nightmare, or there was a ghost in my field. Despite the fact that I didn’t believe in ghosts, it seemed the only logical explanation. As the light bulb went off in my head, it seemed to trigger a change in setting. I was an audience to the horrors that unfolded before my eyes.

  With the field long behind us, I watched as he trudged toward an abandoned mental institution. It didn’t look like the kind that was concerned with the well-being and treatment of its patients. Instead, it looked like the experimental torture and electric shock kind of place straight out of a horror movie. The hospital was in a state of total disarray and disrepair.

  It was dank, dirty, and piles of rubble and garbage littered the surrounding area. The smell was acrid with the pungent aroma of urine and decay hanging thick in the air. Out of the corner of my eye, I swear I saw movement. Hoping it was a rat, or some other foraging animal I dismissed my fear. I tried not to worry about a few displaced, starving mentally-ill patients. The man seemed to sense the movement too, darting like a startled animal.

  He searched his pockets for something and came up with a large switchblade. It scared me, even though I knew I was in no physical danger. I didn’t want to be left alone, so I followed him toward another building. Brandishing his blade in front of him as a warning, he walked on. I wished for a weapon of my own. I knew I couldn’t interact with anything, but the weight of a blade in my hand would ease my worries. It was difficult to remember I couldn't be harmed, every aspect seemed so real.

  He approached the door, which opened freely. Whoever left these people here to die, hadn't tried to contain them. It was pitch dark inside the room; fumbling in his pocket he found the lighter.

  The flame illuminated a scene that was infinitely worse than utter darkness. It caused shadows to move erratically through the room, and made me all the more aware of the putrid smell. Human waste covered the corners and there was something that looked like it had been a body, at one time or another. There was blood-streaked broken glass in the door that led out of the hellish room. Maggots repeatedly penetrated rotting flesh and the sound of flies buzzed like thunder.

  I kept my sleeve over my nose and mouth, wishing I could cover my eyes and transport myself someplace safer. Against my hopes I remained, and I followed him to the next room. I heard a low, guttural growl coming from the room beyond. There was no way it could be human. I jumped and tried to hug the man for comfort, but my arms passed right through. It was like I didn't exist. I really needed human contact. I was absolutely terrified.

  "Who are you? Show yourself. I have a weapon and I WILL use it. Show yourself God damn it!" The man’s rasp of a voice actually comforted me. It made me feel less hopelessly alone, and an illusion was better than nothing.

  We were no longer alone. A flash of movement made its way between the man and me. I was pretty sure we found the source of the growl, and it seemed to be coming from a human. It was more beast than man.

  "Do you need help?" The familiar man asked while brandishing the lighter in lieu of the blade. The creature hissed in response. There were sores and cuts all over its body and chunks of missing hair. All of its fingernails were nothing more than bloodied stubs and there was glass embedded in its arms and parts of its face. I felt bad calling someone it, but whatever had happened to this person turned it into something unrecognizable.

  It seemed agitated, but remained in one spot and the familiar man stayed calm. I, on the other hand, was trembling and freaking out.

  "Do you need help? Are you alright?" The familiar man took one step forward and the creature jumped back, shrieking and cowering. Someone had clearly abused this shell of a person. Blade in one hand, lighter in another he tried once more to approach the creature.

  "I've come here to help. What they did to you was horrible. Not all people are like that. What can I do to make it better?" Every bone in the creature's body was visible and it was impossible to tell whether it had been male or female. It was emaciated beyond belief and a tangle of hair hid the only telltale sign that revealed gender.

  It was now wailing, and every movement seemed to cause it immense pain. The familiar man searched his pockets once more and came up with a small bag of peanuts. He set it near the creature and backed away slowly to give it some space. The creature slowly examined the bag and threw it in protest. Then, with more might that I thought it could muster, it lunged right at the familiar man.

  My eyes had finally adjusted to the lack of light, and I could see everything clearly. The creature started to bite him. It would not let go. It was like a rabid, starving pit bull. I saw the familiar man hesitate and then he did what I feared he would be forced to do. He killed the creature. A thick pool of blood escaped the creature as the man gently laid it down. The anguish on his face was undeniable. He closed the creature’s tormented eyes and left the room. I followed right after him.

  It was evident that taking the creature’s life took a great toll on him. Every few steps he would shake and his breathing was shallow and uneven. Every now and then a sob would explode from his chest, no longer able to be contained. I could tell that he was a good man and wanted nothing more than to help people, and possibly himself. He could definitely use some food, water, and a shower. I hoped he found some semblance of peace, it looked like he hadn't slept in days. It frustrated me that I had no way to comfort him.

  We'd endured nearly three more rooms, but they weren't like the others. They were barren and sterile, and equally creepy. I sidled past a nasty looking machine; just the thought of being near it gave me the creeps. Without warning the man broke down and fell to his knees, head in his hands.

  "I just came to find help, and give it if I could. I've killed someone. What kind of horrible person am I? God, just take me right now. I don't deserve to go another step." I desperately wanted to comfort him. To tell him it wasn't his fault, that he
had no choice. That he had ultimately put the creature out of its misery. I'm going to call the creature Adrian. That can be a man or a woman, and I feel bad referring to someone as a creature. That person, at one point of time had a life and maybe even a family.

  I don't know how long we remained in that room, it felt like forever. He finally got back up, brushing himself off with shaking hands. My heart went out to him. We were in some sort of main hallway and we could hear muffled screams off in the distance. I crept like a weary kitty; not that sneaking mattered when you couldn't be seen. We walked by a room with a partially open door and I wanted to walk straight past it. Luck was not in my favor. He opened the door a bit wider and I heard the sound of metal clattering on the ground. Something had startled him enough to disarm him. I wanted to run, to leave, to hide, anything to escape the situation. I was safe. I had nothing to lose, so the least I could do was be there with him.

  If I had anything to drop, I would have dropped it. What I saw in that room chilled my marrow, and burned itself into my mind. I will never, can never, forget what I saw in that room. There were two creatures, and one was tearing the flesh off of another with its teeth. It appeared to be eating the other. I thought it was just out of starvation that it was eating a fallen brother, but nothing was ever that easy. I could have potentially wrapped my head around its meal choice since it was starving, but not while the other creature was breathing. It was being eaten alive. It was too much. I couldn't bear it. I didn't even notice the familiar man's reaction; I could not look away from the grotesque image in front of me.

  They looked just like Adrian, with sores, cuts, patches of hair and emaciated to the point of freaky cannibalism. I finally mustered the gumption to look over at the man; he was taking it like I was. Or I would imagine. He was freaking out, and I don't blame him. I was too. They didn't seem to notice our presence, and I hoped he picked his blade back up. Creatures that turn on their own would surely see him as a tasty snack.

  He coughed, or screamed. I wasn't sure which, but it was enough to get their attention. The one eating lunged and was on the familiar man before he had time to react. I saw the glint of his weapon across the room. He was flailing his arms, trying to hold his ground, but exhaustion was setting in. The one who was being eaten came to join in on the feast. I tried everything I could to hand him the weapon, to get the beings off of him. I couldn't. I was merely an observer forced to watch as they ate the familiar man alive. Those sights and sounds will forever be with me. When he stopped making noise I found myself in the meadow. I looked to my left, hoping to see the familiar man standing beside me, but there was no one. I was alone and still grieving over his fate.

  Falling to my knees I assumed the fetal position, rocking back and forth and crying. Sobbing. I had felt a connection to that man, like he was someone of importance to me in particular. I watched him being eaten alive by strange humanoid creatures. I remained in the clearing until well after dark, and suddenly I was terrified. I had to get home, and right away. Everywhere I looked I feared I would see one of the creatures. I needed to find out who that man was, and if he really did have any importance to me. Even if there wasn't a definite connection before, he was surely important to me now.

  Why had he shown me his gruesome death? Was there actually meaning behind it? Or was it just one of those things?