My Little Rabbit

by James DeSantis

Remember

  That smell.

  Sewage combined with burnt flesh. Its stench is far enough even to reach me down here. The way it flows through the air straight down four floors is astonishing. My eyes are washed out, blurry; it feels like I'm in a different world. Foggy. Could this be a nightmare?

  I can't take the chance to find out.

  A door just cracked open. Footsteps, low but undoubtedly creaking the soundboard above me. I shiver. The more thoughts I have of that thing approaching, the quicker my stomach churns. Maybe I should run. What's the sense of hiding? If it finds me it'll tear me to shreds. Least running I might have a chance of surviving.

  *DING*

  My attention shoots to the left and one flight above. Something hard just hit a metal surface. What was that? Shit, I can't recall what was up there. A piano with a few books between it and a couch. A busted TV as well. I can't remember anything metal.

  *DING*

  I jump. My heart is pounding at an extraordinarily fast speed and my palms are sweaty from staying in the exact same spot for the last twenty-two minutes and seventeen seconds.

  Eighteen.

  Nineteen.

  “Come out, come out, my little bunny rabbuut!”

  His voice is chilling, the way he pronounces the word rabbit with some gleefulness. It's like a six-year-old getting his first pet, except this sick fuck wants to dissect me like some goddamn science class project.

  “Why do you fear me? I'm your friend, remember? I've been trying to see you so we can be bestest pals. So why aren't you talking to me?” I, of course, don't respond. I'd be a damn idiot to. He knows that, so why then is he trying to lure me out in the dumbest fashion possible?

  “COME OUT YOU LITTLE SHIT!!!”

  I feel myself urinate. My body is shaking and chills aren't just running down my spine, they're grabbing a hold and moving in. My eyes stare through the cracks above my head and I can see a shadow going over the area I'm peeping through.

  “So we continue our cat and mouse game, huh? Why do you do this to me?” He slams whatever he's holding against the piano. A key goes off and a devastating crushing sound follows. What he has is able to break a piano...my mind goes blank.

  I could barely breathe.

  I can't stop shaking.

  What in the--

  A dragging sound. A step. Two steps. Three. Four. Five. Six-seven-eight...shit he's moving faster.

  I get up from crouching.

  He slams into a door and with some miracle it holds firm. I don't bother to even check back, I just keep on crawling my way towards the other side of where that sound came from. My heart is slamming so hard I don't even hear the second crash, just the roars of a psychotic madman. I reach out and finally feel it. The knob.

  *CRASH*

  This time I do turn back. His face lights up like the damned Fourth of July when he sees me on the other side. His grin is so big. His eyes narrow down and they're so thin they look almost snake-like. The way they point so precise, as if to show you how evil he can be. However, it's the white makeup with two green cheeks that make him most horrifying. Calling him a clown would be too much of a compliment. A man dressed in a fitted gown but instead of coming off elegant, fell on his face and ruined his own work. A scary, wrongly made, devilishly disgusting creature.

  He was coming right towards me.

  I turned the knob. It's tight, not turning all the way. I use my body's force to try to break it open. No luck. I turn back to see the clown-man crawling towards me, halfway to his target. I turn back around and use my shoulder again. Nothing.

  Again.

  Nothing.

  I turn back to see him inching closer. His tongue sticks out like a dog waiting for a treat. He's begging to get a bite of me. To taste my flesh.

  “No!” I holler and slam myself with everything I have against the door.

  It flies open and I go with it.

  “You can run my little rabbit, but you cannot escape me.” His serpentine tongue slides out and makes a motion like a windshield wiper across his face. His tongue stopping on his nose and goes up higher and higher, till it reaches well above his head. It's almost comedic in a way. Except for the part where I'm terrified.

  “Get away from me,” I finally mutter.

  He begins to giggle. Not laugh, but giggle, like a little schoolgirl. My anger flares up as I look back at him. Why does he not approach?

  “Stop laughing!” I shout.

  His giggles become louder.

  “I said, stop laughing at me!” I roar.

  His giggles begin to slow down to the point of coming to a complete halt. “Why, my little rabbit? Are you scared you'll remember?”

  “Remember?” I question.

  “Yes, my my, how time goes by. You don't wanna come face to face with high tides, but the lies built upon lies, will get you caught like flies.”

  I back away. “You're a psycho.”

  “Oh, am I?” His teeth show, razor sharp.

  “Just stay the hell away from me.” This whole time I'm backing up, not even looking behind to where I'm going.

  “We can only run so long before you're caught. Little rabbit...don't wonder too far into the field. You might not like what you see.” The giggles are replaced with a heavy laugh.

  I turn and run.

  Sister

  As I ran I recalled how I ended up here. My sister was coming in to town despite my advice to stay back home. She told me that was nonsense, that she needed some alone time with her little sister. I was completely against the idea, but it's hard to keep someone away when they're dying to see you. So I reluctantly made arrangements for her stay. Cleared out a room, put some food in the fridge, even cleaned the bathroom. Anything to make her trip comfortable (and less of a chance of my getting a headache.)

  She came in last night at around nine o'clock. As her car pulled up Rocko, my eighty-pound lab, began barking furiously at the door. Funny enough even if it was someone coming to do harm he'd probably jump up on the burglar and give them a big fat kiss. I pulled his collar and pushed him to the side, opening the door to let her in.

  “Oh, look at you,” she squealed as she rushes in for a hug. Her grip is tight, and her hands easily fit around my body as she squeezed. “I've missed you so much!” I feel deaf from her excitement. Rocko was jumping up and down on us with his new energy of love that he must share.

  She let go and bended to pet Rocko. I shifted my shoulders, rubbing my body, and nodded. “I missed you too.”

  “Yeah? Sure don't sound like it on the phone.”

  I groaned. “I just wanted to spend some time alone.”

  “You mean more time? All you've been doing is spending time alone.”

  “Yeah, that's my choice. I'm an adult, remember?”

  She stood up and flicked my forehead. “Yeah, I remember. Just try to keep in mind that you have people who care about you and love you. Including your sister.” She walked in further and took a tour of the place for herself. I shut the door behind her, looked at Rocko, and shook my head.

  “Bad idea boy, bad idea.”

  We eventually ended up in the living room after she commented on how nice my kitchen was (yeah right) and how much she loved the color I picked for my bedroom (lies). As we sat down she got herself comfortable and smiled at me. I smiled back, trying not to stare into her eyes for too long.

  “Well, do you want to talk about--”

  “No.” I answered quickly. “How is Derek? Sam?” I quickly bounced back.

  “Fine,” she answered quickly.

  “Good.” I did care about my brother-in-law and nephew, but it was more of a diversion.

  “Listen, I know it's tough--
”

  “Meg, just drop it, okay?” I said sternly.

  “I'm here to help.”

  “I don't need your help.”

  “You put all this pressure on yourself. Why?”

  I rubbed my temple with both fingers. “You really don't like taking no for an answer do you?”

  “I just want to figure this out.”

  I stood up and shook my head. “You just want everything to fall into your lap so you can fix it.” I began to walk towards the kitchen.

  “Hey, come on now, that's not fair. You know that's not true.” She followed me, like I expected something different?

  I opened the fridge and grab a can of soda. I began gulping it down as she strode in. Her face was red, clearly annoyed with how I was acting. Which was funny seeing a freckled redhead getting even redder. “I don't know why you have to be so...so...”

  “I told you Megan, I don't need your help. I don't need anyone's help. I just wish you'd stay back in Jersey.” I took another sip, awaiting a response.

  “Fine. I'll leave tomorrow night. You clearly don't want me here.” She turned and walked towards the bedroom. Moments later I heard a door shut loudly and a scream. A typical habit my sister did growing up. I grin as if I won some type of victory in a battle. I had pissed my sister off, who was only trying to help, and thought of that as a win.

  It was better than the alternative.

  Okay

  The field crops are up to my chest. Each one is brushing by me as I continue to stride across the field of whatever the hell I'm in. I only stop because my stomach begins to growl, my heart is still racing, and my feet are getting as weary as the rest of my body. My eyes feel heavy, as if they're about to shut any moment. If the crazy clown-looking man wasn't going to kill me I might die of an heart attack. I rub my long sleeved shirt on my mouth and study my environment.

  The yellowish crops give off a terrible odor. At first I can't pinpoint what it is. It smells of something wicked, though. As if a animal died and was left for months. I search my area but nothing is tracing me back to the source. The deadly smell keeps creeping into my nostrils and I'm beginning to feel nauseous.

  A quick shake of the crops from the left make me jump.

  I eye it closely, waiting for any quick movements.

  “Hello?” I ask to nothing.

  No other creaks, everything is silent. Could have it been an animal?

  A shadow is within the crops. I could see it. I could feel someone watching me. What? The clown? No. Something else. Its eyes directly on me, as if studying me. I take a step back. I hear something snap in half from the original spot where I heard a sound. Something or someone is there. My ears are ringing with a pounding sound. I take another step back. I hear something else snap. The shadow is growing. My heart is blasting now.

  I about-face and jet.

  I was never a runner. In fact I hated even jogging. I could never make the team in high school, nor did I care to. Still, my mother told me it was a good extra sport to pick up. Too bad I skipped just about everyday because stamina sure would come in handy right now.

  As I run I can still smell the dead animal aroma. As if it's following me. Could that be? What the hell, that shadow could be something dead. I saw a clown who had a tongue larger than a butcher knife. Anything is possible right now.

  I skid to a stop a few yards away and check back. Nothing. No shadow following me. No crops being pushed away in favor of somebody stampeding through them. Just the quiet chilly night, my shallow breathes, and the awful smell.

  I turn to walk ahead when there stands a man. He's in a long white coat, his tallish figure easily overshadowing me, his hands shaking. I stumble back, nearly tripping on myself, and look at him. He was a fairly reasonably good looking guy. Tall, six feet probably, blond hair, in shape. He was perfect, except for the fact that his eye sockets were missing eyeballs.

  He took a step forward, opens his mouth, and tries to mutter a word.

  It makes me shake with fear.

  A gurgling sound erupts from his mouth; spit, mucus, spraying everywhere. No sound however except for that. No words are being muttered.

  I feel the need to sprint in the opposite direction. You know, not stand around a man with no eyeballs. However, I can't just run. I feel the need to know why he's here. What does he want? What is he saying.

  “Speak,” I say steadily, despite my legs trembling uncontrollably.

  “A-a-a-r---” He begins but shuts his trap a moment later. He looks at me, and in his eyes I see a sadness. Almost as if he hates that he can't tell me what he's thinking.

  “Come on, say it!” I demand.

  “A-a-a-a-a-r-r-r-e” he finally gets out.

  I wipe my sweaty palms on my pants and step forward towards the man in a white coat. “Are?”

  “Y-y-y-y-o-o-”

  “You?” I finish for him.

  “O-o-o-o-o”

  “Oh?” I try to fit in but he vicariously shakes his head back and forth. His eyes narrow and he latches on to me. I scream, jump, but don't run. I look him in the eyes, the blackness that now lives there. So empty, yet his face off gives off the sense of grief.

  “O-o-o-k-k-k”

  “Are you okay?”

  He nods with such joy. He has asked the question he's being dying to get rolled off his tongue. However, I have no answer for him. “Are you okay?” I repeat, as if not understanding the meaning. How could I be okay? I'm being chased by a clown freak and some guy with no eyes. “No...” I finally announced, less angry than I picture.

  “R-r-r-r-u-” he begins.

  Then a knife appears right through the left empty eye socket. Blood splatters all over my shirt. I jump back from him, his grip completely gone. The eyeless man reaches out to me one more time before falling to his knees and toppling over. Behind him stands the clown, its snake-like tongue making the rounds again for a taste of me.

  “You sick fuck!” I scream.

  “Getting to attached to unimportant things. Me, you, that's what needs to be on your list of priorities. Now, my little rabbit, are you going to come here and give me a big kissy or what?” With each advancement he makes I take another step back. This freak wants to kiss me, and I'm sure a lot worse afterward.

  “Screw you!” I bellow and fly the opposite way. Through the field I push away anything in my way. I refuse to let this thing take me. It wants my body, I just have to figure out how to get away from its clutches. There's always a way, I need to get out of the field of hell.

 

  Why

  It was earlier today that my sister and I came to an agreement. I woke up early, as always, and started brewing up some coffee. I placed two waffles in the toaster and leaned on my counter as I counted the lines that ran through the tiles on the floor. It was a habit I picked up ever since I moved in to this place. Start my coffee, start breakfast, and count the lines. Every single day. Nothing changed.

  My sister came down the stairs, hair as messy as could be, yawning as she reached the bottom step. She waved, rubbing her sleepy eyes, and sat in the chair across from me. She looked so tired, the long drive must have gotten to her. She came all the way to see me, and here I was being a total jackass.

  “Sorry about yesterday,” I spoke up and began to pour some coffee for myself.

  “It's okay, I just don't know why you get so snappy. You know I'm here to help you, right?”

  “I know,” I respond, taking a sip of my drink.

  “How's Kathy? I forgot to ask.”

  “Fine.” I answered curtly.

  “Sounds like it's going well.” My sister sarcastically responded.

  “I don't want to talk about it.”

  “You really don't like to talk about anything, do you?”

  “No.” And like clockwork my waffles popped out of the toaster. I grab both, throw them on a plate, and make my way to the table. I began chowing down, eying my sister, waiting fo
r her barrage of questioning.

  “How's work going?”

  “Fine.”

  She huffed. “Really, I love how conversational you are nowdays.”

  “Thanks.”

  Her eyebrows narrow. “Can I have a waffle?”

  I groan and move the plate towards her. “Sure.”

  She takes a bite. “Sorry to intrude on your life but I just thought having somebody to help you these days would be nice.”

  “I don't need help. I'm coping with my life the way I see fit.” I leaned back on the chair. “How's work going for you?”

  “Not bad. Long hours but it's working out.” She took another bite.

  “I visited mom last week,” I announced.

  “Yeah? How was that?”

  “Fine, I guess. We should have picked a better place.”

  “Money issues.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

  “What do you say we go out tonight? Have a nice dinner out.”

  “Where?”

  “I don't care, wherever you want.”

  “You're paying?”

  “Yes...I'll pay.” Megan said bitterly. She wasn't upset that she had to pay, but at my response.

  “It sounds fun.” I added a bit of jib in to it.

  “Really?” Her face lit up. “I mean, don't do this for me. I'm thinking it would be nice just to spend some time together.”

  “I want to. No seafood and sign me up.” I get up from my seat.

  “Great.” She got up and began heading up stairs. “What time do you get out of work tonight?”

  “Six.” I looked up at my sister. She seems so happy over the smallest thing. Dinner out? What's so special about a night out grabbing food? People do that all the time. So dumb to get so excited, yet it was contagious. The glow on her face made me want to get dressed and head out.

  “Okay, be ready by seven-thirty, fair?”

  I laughed. “Yeah, sure.”

  “Good!” She ran up the stairs.

  You'd wonder who was the older sister in this relationship sometimes. Dinner sounded nice, though. A night out with big sister and just let the stress slip away. It's always better than wallow in my misery, right?

  Too bad it never happened.

  The Bed

  The crops were thinning the longer I ran. After, what feels like hours, I reach the end of the field. I'm out of it and in front of me stands a house. I march up the stairs and began bashing my hand on the door. “Hello! Help! Anyone!” I yell, my voice scratchy from the consistent screaming in the field. As I should expect, no one answered. I moan, turn around, and look into the yellowish field I just escaped. In the distance I could see certain crops swaying, and I know the clown is the one doing this.