Respect For The Dead

by Lindsey Goddard

  I want to avert my gaze, to break our stare, but something indescribable holds me there. I can’t seem to look away no matter how hard I try. All expression has left her face now. Her eyes are as dark as the nighttime sea. As black as the ocean at night.

  I can’t breathe, and my lungs begin to hurt, short gasps of air escaping my mouth. My heart feels suddenly as if it were filled with broken glass. I have never felt a pain so severe. My blood cells are like minuscule razorblades, every pump of my heart pushing the pain to more and more parts of my body.

  Sarah will not break our gaze.

  I try to scream, but my throat is suddenly closed off. Something intangible is gripping my neck. I feel it squeezing, choking the life from my body. My hands frantically search for a culprit, for something solid and fleshy to fight. There is nothing to grab… only a tightness in my throat, blocking the air from my lungs.

  My heart is beating slower now… too slow. The world is fading in and out, like someone’s flicking a light switch. I can hardly feel the grass on my skin, barely feel the hot metal of the fence. I squeeze it with shaking fingers, and yet I feel nothing. A strange numbness consumes my whole body.

  Sarah smiles. She’s a devil in disguise.

  Something long-forgotten creeps over my mind: a fear of death, as my vision slowly fades. Blackness falls light a curtain over the bright summer sky. I feel so mortal, so helpless and weak.

  A distant voice is saying, “Who is that man? Dear god! He needs help!”

  It’s the voice of Sarah’s mother… but it’s too late for me. I feel it coming. I can finally feel death.

  The New Girl

  Before I tell my story, let’s get something out in the open. I’ve been a stripper for almost two years, shaking my ass in the spotlight for all the drunken slobs to see. Go ahead and judge me. Call me a whore. I’m used to it.

  I’ve never exposed myself below the waist. A cute pair of panties go a long way. And I sure as hell don’t blow old perverts in the back room for twenty bucks. If you pay for a lap dance, I might touch your thigh… your chest. But no one touches back, not without asking, and my answer is usually “no”. The way I dance is “mid-level” all the way.

  “Mid-level.” That’s what I call the girls who make money using nothing but their tits. Further up and further down is closed for business. I might bend over and trail a hot breath down your neck, but that’s about it. The smooth skin of my hips, the soft graze of my nipple against your chest… if that aint enough, I can always point the way. But it’ll cost you.

  My name is Annie. I work downtown at a night club called “Pauly’s Parlor.” If I had to rate the place—you know, give it a classification—I’d stick it somewhere between “hole in the wall” and “reputable place.” The building could use some repairs, but Pauly respects his girls. If I don’t wanna be touched, he makes sure no one touches.

  The dressing room needs Spackle and paint. The tile is discolored with age. The mirrors are scratched and blurry. Hell, there’s a bullet hole in the wall from before I started working this job. I never bothered to ask the story behind it. Some things are better left to the imagination, where I can write it off as a misfire, an accident.

  Stripping was my very first job, the only job I’ve ever had. A lot of late nights I lay in bed, thoughts swirling through my mind. I try to figure out what keeps me here. Annie girl, you need to find a new job, I think. So why haven’t I spread my wings and flown away? I’ve thought about quitting a million times. I guess maybe it’s been Pauly all along…

  There’s something in the way he moves, so confident through the club, his soft pony tail glistening in the multi-colored lights. The way his goatee looks when he takes a sip of the shiny metal flask he keeps handy, an autobiography of tattoos poking out of his rolled up sleeves. When Pauly gets hot, he unbuttons the top of his black dress shirt, silver chain dangling beneath the silk. I wanted to get beneath that fabric, too, and run my fingers down his warm chest.

  When I was in diapers, he was out raising hell—in a biker gang by the age of nineteen, then to rehab (I don’t think it worked), and eventually discovering the night club scene. It was loud and chaotic, enough to satisfy his inner demon. He promises his girls complete protection from weirdos and creeps. In return, we don’t complain about broken toilets and leaky sinks.

  Pauly’s Parlor is a decent place to work. There’s an occasional drug deal. We all just turn the other cheek. It doesn’t happen all that often, and besides…we all know… Pauly could never stop raising hell, not completely.

  But for some reason, I kept thinking I could tame the beast.

  If I saw him at the bar, I stayed after my shift to join him. I took any excuse to rub my flesh against his—brushing shoulders when we passed in the hall, sliding my fingers down his when I took that measly check. All a stripper’s real money comes from tips.

  For almost two years I continued this charade—avoiding his sexual advances, making it obvious I needed a courtship. He knew what I was doing. He knew I wanted flowers and dinner. I’ve seen him think about it, his head cocked while I’m on stage, imagining my sable curls twisted between his fingers, sucking him like so many girls did for free—but not me. I needed to know I was special.

  Pauly loved me in a way that I’ll never understand. Sometimes he distanced himself on purpose, unable to admit he was crazy for me. But he always came back around.

  I presented a challenge. In all his attempts to fuck me, he never succeeded. I was waiting for the wine and dine. Is it too much to ask for steak and wine?

  “Annie,” he would say “I’d be a terrible boyfriend.”

  “Let’s find out,” would be my reply.

  I never did. Thanks to the new girl… a total bitch named Lilly Peters.

  Lilly had a habit of quitting her jobs after only a couple of paychecks. She wasn’t any good at quitting other things, though: liquor, cigarettes, and smack. I’d seen her in the alley before, trying to haggle prices with Big C.

  Big C is the resident dope dealer. He pays well for our silence, so everybody turns the other cheek. “That girl gives me the creeps,” he once said.

  Now listen! We don’t call him “Big C” to be funny! This guy is six-foot-four, wide as a barge, and that little bitch gives him the creeps! I started laughing when he told me. He couldn’t help but laugh with me, white teeth floating inside the darkness of his hood.

  When Lilly came knocking at Pauly’s door, I didn’t want her joining the staff. I was sitting at the bar, treating myself to a Long Island Iced Tea. (Wearing heels all night is no joke.) Pauly kept telling me “Don’t start.” He didn’t want to hear a word of what I had to say.

  “She’s a junkie,” I said, nursing my drink.

  “You can’t make it through one night without hitting the bar, Annie.”

  “That’s different! This is perfectly legal!”

  I gulped the rest of my Long Island just to be silly. I could never manage to stay mad at Pauly. “Fill ‘er up, boss.” I pushed the glass in his direction.

  A young man with scruffy blond hair chimed in to our conversation. “Are you two talking about Lilly Peters?”

  I nodded.

  “Rumor has it, she fucked her last boss… and the very next morning she quit.”

  Pauly’s mouth spread into a grin. He was really enjoying himself! His hand was on the bar, fingers spread across a napkin. I smashed it with my elbow. That wiped the grin off his face.

  “You are an ass! Think about it. Why would she do that? Is she spreading STD? Did she steal from the guy? Is she crazy?”

  “What do I care?” Pauly said. “She’ll bring in money for a while. I just won’t expect a two week notice.”

  I gave up.

  The next day she was straddling my regular clients and taking them into the back room for “private dances.” She threw me looks as she walked away, leading them by hand like a child to candy. The sick satisfaction she got from stealing my regulars! It was pathetic! Con
gratulations, Lilly, you are the biggest whore!

  I hated Lilly Peters from Day One, but that’s not why I tell you this story. I am not a liar. I’m not making this up. Everything I tell you next is true…

  She is evil. I’ve seen it with my own two eyes. She lets me see things, shows me things. She does it just to mess with my head.

  Not too long ago, she was walking off stage, her skin glossy with sweat from riding the pole. She flicked her honey hair to the side, a smile curling the corner of her ruby-red lips, and looked at me. The spotlight illuminated her face as she slowly blinked her eyes, and when they opened again they were clouded with green. Something lime green had washed over her eyes. There was no pupil, just this terrible monotone color. They looked hard to the touch, like shiny plastic or glass. Light reflected off the surface of those eyes.

  I thought I was losing it, and I looked away.

  She made her way off stage, pushing past me, even though there was plenty of room. The nudge forced me to stumble backward in my heels. I’m lucky my ankle didn’t twist. I turned to say something, or maybe knock the bitch out, and that’s when I saw the wings.

  They were translucent and thin, like cellophane with the slightest tint of brown. Vein-like markings covered each wing, zig-zagging like cracks on the surface. My eyes narrowed, struggling to make certain of what I saw.

  Sprouting from her tan flesh, the wings fluttered. It sounded like a deck of cards being shuffled, someone’s thumb flicking over the edges. They shimmered for a moment in the flickering strobe light, and then receded like a weed in reverse. She turned and smiled, still walking away.

  For a moment I forgot to breath, still haunted by the image of her cold eyes. I never once questioned my own sanity. I guess a lot of people would, but those people are skeptics. I believe in dark forces, in evil, and that’s exactly what Lilly is.

  I decided to keep her away from Pauly, and convince him to let her go. But first… it was my turn on stage.

  The first few notes of my song blared from the stereo system. I strolled on to the stage, black lace skirt trailing behind me on the mock marble floor. I grasped the pole, biting my lip.

  “Raven hair and ruby lips

  Sparks fly from her finger tips

  Echoed voices in the night

  She’s a restless spirit on an endless flight…”

  My body instinctively found the beat, pumping and swaying, though my mind was far away. A bead of sweat trickled down my spine. I ran both hands through my hair, black curls falling into my vision. I knelt before the eager audience, allowing them to stuff tips into my black bikini bottoms.

  “Well I know you want a lover,

  let me tell you, brother,

  she’s been sleeping in the Devil’s bed.

  And there’s some rumors going ‘round,

  someone’s underground…

  She can rock you in the nighttime

  ‘til your skin turns red…”

  I jumped and grabbed the pole, wrapping it with my limbs. I let myself down slow, the metal faintly squeaking against my skin. The song came to an end, and the crowd went wild. See? “Mid-level” is all they need.

  I was picking the last five dollar bill off the stage, when I saw Pauly at the door. Lilly’s arms were around his neck. He was waving to Bobby, the late night bartender, as she yanked and pulled him to the street. He stumbled a little and grabbed her ass. My stomach curdled. I was going to be sick.

  I wanted to rush the door, but instead ran to the bathroom. Dry heaves kept me over the toilet. My eyes watered every time my gut tightened. Mascara ran down my cheeks. I planned on eating after my performance, but now that was not an option. My head was spinning too much for food.

  I had to warn Pauly…

  I steadied myself against the stall door, wiping at the wet makeup with a wad of toilet paper. When I was sure I looked halfway normal again, I made my way to Pauly’s office.

  There was a piece of paper on the Xerox machine. It was a printed picture of her license, complete with address. This was too easy! I paid a visit to Mapquest.com. Her house was only a few blocks away.

  I grabbed my pants and T-shirt from the dressing room locker. My hands were trembling as I slid into the jeans. I had the strangest feeling that Pauly was in danger. He was my knight in shining armor when customers got too pushy, and tonight I’d return the favor.

  I drove as fast as I could the four blocks to her house, but you’ll never believe what I saw…

  I didn’t want to knock on the door. I was trying to catch her in the act of something, though I wasn’t exactly sure what. Bursting through the door, screaming nonsense about green eyes and wings, that would make me look pretty crazy. Pauly would probably laugh! He’d assume my raging jealousy had finally sent me over the edge.

  I needed to see what they were doing.

  I crept around the side of the house, following a thin trail of mulch behind the bushes. Light spilled out in front of me, cast from a large bay window. I pressed against the house, stretching myself as thin as possible. I cursed myself for wearing a white T-shirt, but I wasn’t used to spying on people. I’d have given anything for Big C’s black hoody right then.

  I peeked in through a part in the curtains.

  Apparently, Lilly Peters does not require steak and wine. Thirty minutes after leaving the club, those two were right down to business. She was nude, except for a thong, which Pauly pulled to the side. On all fours, she heaved and panted, squeezing the couch cushions until her knuckles were white.

  I felt the dry heaves coming back. I swallowed hard, and forced myself to keep watching.

  Pauly was behind her, his big hands cradling her hips. I’d pictured him in that position a thousand times, but Lilly Peters wasn’t part of my picture. Disgust and jealousy aside, I got the slightest bit wet. Pauly always had that effect on me.

  She turned her face toward the window, and I noticed the change. Holy shit! Those green eyes were back! I couldn’t tell if she saw me. My feet were paralyzed with fear, stuck to the ground where I stood.

  She loosened her grip on the couch cushions and closed the gaps between her fingers, pressing them tightly together. They appeared to be melting into one solid shape, the lines between each finger disappearing. On each hand, five digits fused together, tapering off into a point at the end.

  The color green began spreading up her arms. It started at each handless tip, making its way to her elbows. It washed over the tan of her face. The once-soft flesh looked hard to the touch, glimmering in the light. Her back and ass remained untouched, as if to trick poor Pauly… to keep his dick inside the monster.

  Brown antennae poked through her golden hair. They seemed to be twitching with excitement. It all happened so fast I could barely keep up. I needed to do something, but what? Go inside and get myself killed?

  Wings sprouted from her back, bigger this time. “What the fuck?” I heard Pauly scream.

  I was getting ready to shatter the glass and climb to Pauly’s rescue when her bottom jaw dropped hideously low. It didn’t unhinge—it just stretched, her lips dissolving into an insect-like maw. The new mouth was as long as my face, maybe bigger.

  She wrenched her back in an impossible position, wrapping her monstrous green mouth around Pauly’s head. He jerked, screaming obscenities as her mouth slid past his eyes. Even through the window glass, I heard the crunch of his skull. It was like nothing I’ve ever heard before.

  Brain matter oozed down his broken cranium. She lapped it up with her hideous maw, sucking at the pink chunks of meat. He was still inside of her, hard even after death! She pushed her ass into him, rocking back and forth… milking every bit of his erection.

  The dry heaves came rushing back, and I fell to my knees, arcing my back with each tortured thrust of my throat. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t tell the police. She’d kill me if she ever found out!

  What the fuck is she anyway? A lycanthrope? Some kind of creature… half human, half bug? Is
she a demon from the depths of hell? I’ve heard of werewolves before, but never anything like that! She looked and acted just like… a praying mantis!

  I slid into the seat of my car, shutting the door as quietly as I could manage… so quiet I wasn’t sure if it latched. I turned the key. The car’s engine sputtered to life, forcing my heart to skip a beat. I kept the headlights off, and got the hell out of there. I knew I had luggage to pack.

  Back at home, I packed bag after bag… as much as I could fit in the trunk. I’ll come back for the furniture when I get a chance. Right now, I just want to run away, somewhere safe, away from that monster Lilly Peters.

  I don’t know if she saw me, but I’m not taking any chances. I’ve been meaning to leave town anyway.

  A new place, a new job… that’s exactly what I need. The sex business will eat you alive.

  When The Sun Comes Up

  A troop of soldiers surrounded the woman. Her screams cut through the air like a saw-toothed blade. Shrill pleas burst from her trembling lips, quickly followed by a monotone, pulsating whimper. On all fours in the dirt, she pounded the earth with wild fists. After a moment, she attempted to stand, visibly shaken, wailing with her arms outstretched.

  A tiny infant purveyed the scene with glassy eyes, unable to comprehend his mother’s pain. Wisps of silken hair danced in the breeze as he was passed from one soldier to the next. “Silence her,” Lieutenant Marx said with a nod. James had no choice but to obey.

  He approached the woman, reaching for his Sedation Rifle. She watched him with worried eyes, pleading, fresh tears shimmering on her dark eyelashes. The woman’s face was covered in mud from being tackled to the ground. James watched her body rattle with fear, tremors of sadness and panic coursing through her like a seizure. He glanced at the sky for a moment, dreading the task at hand. The sun was a colossal orange ember in the distance. Red and pink clouds swirled over its surface.

  She opened her mouth to scream again, and James fired.

  He watched the gelatinous glob strike her shirt, devouring the thin fabric in search of skin. The woman sobbed, trying to brush it away. It soaked into her fingers when she touched the strange substance. It quickly found the flesh beneath her ruined clothes, disappearing into her pores like water into a sponge.