by J. Thorn
Doug obeyed, his head dropping like that of an insolent child.
“As much as I hate it, I’m going to need your help. You won’t want to give it, but you will. I’m not sure where Frank is. It’s hard to think straight once the motherfucker gets inside your head. I know he’s in Frank’s. I felt it. You felt it, too, out there on the scene.”
Doug nodded silently.
“I sense that Frank is already letting the gaki in, filling the rotten holes Frank has dug over the course of his life. But enough about that jerkwad and his stupid-ass mustache. You and I got more immediate work to do.”
Another herd of nurses and doctors came down the hallway, apparently running to 5467.
“What the hell are you?” Doug asked.
Drew sighed, his eyes shifting in their sockets. “I guess I’ve gotta remember what that’s like, coming face-to-face with the monster. Gaki is so much a part of me now that I can barely remember myself. You ever had that feeling, Doug? You ever felt like there was something inside that wasn’t you?”
Doug took a step backwards and collapsed into the chair next to the bed.
“Fine. Make yourself comfortable,” Drew said.
Doug waited.
“You see, I’m not sure this frame is going to hold out much longer. I need Frank, most likely with your help, to get me out of here so we can let the gaki fuck do the old switcheroo. Like a person transplant, if you will. I gotta retire this model. After getting out of the loony bin and making my way south of the Mason-Dixon, well, the fire kinda put a damper on my future. Me, well, Doug, I’ve had a good run. Might have you look up Molly someday. I believe she’s somewhere in Florida with the kids. I ever told you how much I hate Florida? Guess not, seeing as how we’ve just met.”
Doug stared as the bandages around Drew’s mouth turned red. Each word he spoke split more skin, allowing the blood and pus to ooze and soak the bandages. Doug knew the intimate details of burn wounds, and he knew the person before him should have been screaming in pain. He looked at the door and back to Drew.
“He’ll be fine,” Drew said. “They should be leaving the room as soon as he stabilizes. Ravna is one tough fucker, I’ll give him that. And don’t worry about our privacy. I can keep them out of here until we finish what we need to do. I mean, I did in the nuthouse, right?” Drew sighed with a soft chuckle, which sounded more like the diseased cough of a lung-cancer patient. “I keep forgetting we’ve just met. You don’t know about the good times between me and Rav and his Mr. Miyagi, the one I waxed off.”
Doug shook his head.
“You need to know the pull, the insatiable drive, to understand that it’s impossible to fight against. The evil is older than you can imagine, and you have no hope of defeating it any more than you can abolish the air we breathe or the water we drink.” Drew waited, fresh blood gurgling in his throat and running down his neck, where it stained the white pillowcase.
“It’s a blood curse,” he said. “No doubt about that. When shit first started happening, it came down my mother’s side. Gaki told me about my grandfather in the war and what it did to him. It sounded really bad until I realized how much worse it was in my father’s line. Damn. I wish we had time to go into that, I really do. Although that’s mostly about abducting women, and torture, and rape. Good stuff, for sure, but it ain’t gonna help you wrap your mind around this. I need you to understand the origins. You have to understand it, Doug. You’ll probably still battle me, but at least you’ll understand why you’ll never win.”
“Are you evil?” Doug asked with a whisper.
“We’re all fucking evil. That’s the point. The beast is inside all of us, and those who let it roam live a much happier life. Ever heard of hedonism?”
Doug shook his head and used his hand to massage the back of his neck.
“Forget that. It don’t matter. The origin—or should I say, the reappearance—that does matter. When you hear how Gaki reemerged and how it became my blood curse, you’ll understand.”
Doug closed his eyes and sat back on the chair, the smell coming from the bedpan a tenuous reminder that he was still in the ICU unit of University General.
***
My grandfather was in the Pacific Theater in the big war. He came to me at night, in visions that were not quite dreams but not real either. I could see it play out in my mind’s eye but I couldn’t explain how.
He told me that his company landed on the shores of Japan and had to march inland to search out and kill the snipers hiding in the jungle. They had to use machetes to chop through and deal with snakes and jungle rot. They came to a ridge with caves jutting from the hillside and the sergeant commanded them to fan out as they approached rather than going single file. That’s when the explosions started and my grandfather became separated from the rest of the soldiers as they all ran for cover. He used his bayonet to kill the first Japanese soldiers walking out of the smoke. He ran up the ridge and got to the first cave, rolling a grenade inside. At that point my grandfather collapsed and when he regained consciousness, Gaki was standing before him.
In the vision he showed me, I could see Gaki through my grandfather’s eyes. His body was long, but not tall. The gray, bluish skin stretched over thin bones, looking like it was about to tear in places like the elbows and knees. Not only was it blue, but the skin was greasy and it attracted whatever filth the creature crawled through. Its arms and legs were twice what a normal man’s might be, but they had half the muscle of a child. A distended belly jutted out from below thin ribs, like those of starving children. The neck stretched upward like an ostrich. It was thin and made you want to snap it. There was no hair left on the head, and the eyes sat deep in the skull like chunks of coal. There were two holes where a nose may have been, and then that slit for a mouth. The thing was shoving human shit into the maw on its face. The more shit this thing tried cramming in there, the less got in. Its sallow cheeks were smeared with feces, and it had a low moan like a rat caught in a spring trap but not quite dead yet. I could see two, maybe three, dead soldiers against the wall. All of them had their pants at their ankles with a pile of shit inside. It was like this thing was busy trying to lap it up.
Doug shuddered, and the image painted for him by Drew shimmered and hissed like an unlit stream of natural gas. He felt a force draw his attention back to the cave and out of the hospital room, back in time and space. Doug’s breathing became regulated. A line of drool dribbled from the corner of his mouth.
So my grandfather tries to shoot this monster, put a bullet in its chest. He asked it a question, trying to figure out what was happening and the thing replied with one syllable: Gaki. He looked at the demon and shook his head, when it spoke again.
“From Preta, the departed,” it said inside his head.
It was then that my grandfather showed me how the evil had invaded his being and tainted his future. Gaki spoke to him of greed and selfish hoarding that went beyond material things and into the realm of flesh. He showed my grandfather obscene acts that I’d rather not conjure for you, but Gaki left him with the curse which he brought back from the war.
***
“There’s more, but that’s enough for you to get the picture. Gaki, Preta, whatever the fuck you wanna call that force, it’s all consuming, and there ain’t fuck all you can do about it.”
Doug shook and wrapped his arms around his torso as if fighting off an arctic blast of air. “Don’t you be so sure of that. I put out fires for a living.”
“Not like these you don’t, brother. Not like these.”
The commotion across the hall subsided, and the corridor settled back into the normal chaos of the ICU ward. Doug took a deep breath as Drew lay in silence.
“What do you know about the guy in 67?” Doug asked.
Drew moaned, and Doug wondered if the flesh could possibly survive. He realized the demon inside would, but the body was so damaged. “A nuisance. Nothing more.”
“Really? Seems like your wounds are more
than a nuisance.”
“His line has been hunting me for a very long time. I’m used to it.”
Doug nodded and stood, thrusting his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. “Why not destroy him when you had the chance? Why not take him out right now?”
Drew coughed and spat a glob of bloody mucus on the sheet. “I need him, and he needs me. Yin and yang, day and night . . .”
Doug could imagine Drew twirling his fingers in a condescending manner while saying this.
“His sensei was powerless to stop me,” Drew continued. “He’s powerless to stop me, and you are, too. You think you can handle this and you think you can be the knight in shining armor, but you’re wrong,” Drew said before taking a deep breath. “It is the natural way of things.”
“I don’t believe in evil for evil’s sake.”
Drew chuckled and coughed, the smoke inside his scarred lungs still irritating them hours after inhaling the toxic fumes. “You’re denying what you see in front of you? Isn’t this conversation and the story I put inside your head about my grandfather proof enough of the concept? Do you really need more than that to be convinced?”
“I do,” replied Doug. “I’m not buying it.”
Drew’s face tightened as the bandages shifted. Doug knew he was attempting to smile. “I got all the proof you need, my man. In three, two, one . . .”
Before Doug could reply or understand why Drew was counting down, there was a knock at the door.
***
“Hello, son.”
Doug looked at Drew and then over his shoulder at Frank. The old man’s slicked, gray hair gave off a mixed aroma of conditioner and cigar smoke. His mustache shifted, and Doug could see lines of black grime embedded in Frank’s face. The old firefighter looked around the room, his eyes darting back and forth between the patient in the bed and the door.
“What’re you doing here, Frank?”
“What’re you doing here, Doug?”
Doug sighed and turned his palms up and outward as if the room itself was the explanation. “I couldn’t sleep.”
“I could. Had crazy dreams,” replied Frank.
The feeling Doug had had as they battled the blaze came back like a reignited fire. He sensed a hatred deep inside Frank, a hollow feeling of bitterness that consumed his thoughts. “What kind of dreams?”
Frank waved his hand to dispel the question and walked to the foot of the bed. “Think he’ll come out of it?”
“Come out of what?” Doug responded.
“The coma. You talked with Helen and looked at the chart, right? John Doe in 5468 has been in a coma since they brought him in. Doctors don’t think he’ll survive the night.”
Doug looked down into Drew’s face, searching for any evidence of the conversation he thought had taken place moments earlier. He withheld his skepticism and rolled his eyes at Frank. “You been in 5467 yet? That guy is talking.”
“Not what I heard,” replied Frank. “I hear that guy is even closer to death than this one. You doin’ all right, son?”
Doug sat down in the plastic chair and ran a hand through his hair. He could feel the exhaustion pulling at his sore muscles, his eyelids fighting to remain open. “Fuck, Frank. I think I’m losing my mind. I thought I got a phone call, and then I felt compelled to come here and see these survivors. I should be home, sleeping.”
Frank remained standing, his arms across his chest, with his mouth closed.
“Helen is only letting us in here as a personal favor,” Doug said. “It’s no place to be for us unless the mayor is showing up to pin a medal on our chests. Don’t think that’s going to happen today.”
“Nope. Not today,” Frank said, his eyes never leaving Doug’s.
“Before you came in here, I could have sworn this guy was talking to me. Like we’re talking now. I’m serious. He was talking about a blood curse, or demonic possession, like something you read in the supermarket paperbacks. Real Stephen King–type shit.”
“I’m sure it was all in your head,” replied Frank as if he didn’t believe his own words.
“Yeah, I’m sure it is. What’s up with your dreams?”
“Dreamt about something that I used to do, nothing I can remember all that well.” Frank could feel the lies getting easier with each little one he dropped.
“So you had to come here and see if these folks would survive?” Doug asked.
“Yeah,” replied Frank without explanation.
Nurse Helen opened the door and chastised the men with her eyes, as if they were two brothers making a mess of a shared bedroom. “Enough,” she said. “The man in 67 gave us a scare, but he’s doing better than we thought. Got him stabilized. This one isn’t showing much promise. I got a job to do, if you don’t mind?”
Doug stood and brushed imaginary dirt from the front of his jeans. “Sorry, Helen. We were just leaving. Can I call later for an update on these men?”
“Of course, hon,” Helen said as she winked at Doug. “You got my cell?”
“I’ll call the extension at the station, you know, in case you’re with a patient or something.”
Helen nodded, enjoying the little game of cat and mouse. “And what about you, Frank? You want updates, too?”
Frank remained staring at the body in the coma as if they were the only two in the room.
“Frank, let’s go,” said Doug.
Helen’s eyebrows narrowed, and she crossed her arms over her chest.
“Frank,” Doug said again, this time with a bit more force.
The old man looked up at Doug with utter confusion in his eyes. He glanced at Helen and back to Doug before regaining his composure. “I’m going to stay for another minute or two, if that’s all right.”
Doug looked at Helen, and she looked back as if she could probably bend the rules a little on that. “Fine. I’ll see you at the station, Frank.”
Frank waved an arm at Doug, who left 5468. Helen took a step forward to stand next to Frank.
“Damn shame, those crackheads and drug dealers, putting good folks like you in harm’s way for nothing more than a fix.”
Frank ignored Helen’s attempt at flirtatious empathy and looked into Drew’s face. He was excited about the possibilities there.
Chapter 4
Kelly could not take her eyes off the body. She expected him to awaken with a raging erection, excited by the violence. The sun crawled down the eastern wall, the afternoon rays dousing the floor with a warm glow when she realized the truth.
She had killed.
Despite the ways he exploited the relationship and the plans the sick fuck had for her in this abandoned house, she had taken a life. She cried, thinking of his wife and their children. Was it their fault he was such an evil son of a bitch? Did they have any part in the sexual leverage he had on her and the subsequent acts forced upon her? They were, Kelly realized, as innocent as she was. They didn’t know their father was a monster, and they had nothing to do with it. And now they no longer had a father. She had taken that away from innocent children.
Kelly turned and puked the remainder of the morning’s breakfast, leaving the smell of bitter coffee to waft across the room. She coughed and spit, shaking the saliva from her face. Robert did not move.
“Fuck you, Robert!” she screamed as the bonds dug into her bruised flesh. “You fucking piece of shit. You selfish, disgusting human!”
The body remained still, the blood coagulating in a pool like a crimson crown.
She remembered several stories at the station about unfortunate falls leading to death. Folks fell down steps or off a curb, hit their heads, and died. Kelly knew it didn’t take much to slam the brain into the skull hard enough to die, and now she had her own anecdotal evidence to support that belief.
Kelly squirmed and kicked her legs out, thrashing as if being electrocuted by the copper wire keeping her wrists together, fastened to the outlet and behind her back.
Who knows I’m here? she asked herself. Who knows
where he would be?
She thought of cell phones and the old trick they used in police shows: triangulation. But then Kelly remembered seeing her phone on the floor of the van and that the battery was almost dead, and that had been hours ago. She used her legs to stretch out and pat the slacks bunched at Robert’s ankles. She didn’t know if his phone was in there, let alone if it was on, broadcasting their location through the GPS settings. Kelly laughed, realizing that she had been tethered to the wall of this abandoned house for hours and had heard no ringtone, felt no vibration. After all, who would possibly call Robert?
Once night falls and neither of us returns to work, they’ll start to look.
Night.
Kelly’s mind began to turn with the possibility of being trapped in the living room of an abandoned house with a dead rapist. She whimpered and then felt the pressure on her bladder. She turned to the side and attempted to urinate in a position that would not force her to sit in it, although she realized the smell of her own piss might be desirable compared to the other odors soon to invade the room. She tried not to think about the microorganisms at work as she remained tied to the wall. She whisked away thoughts of flies, spiders, and maggots. Tears rolled down her cheeks.
“No,” she said out loud. “I will not die here, naked and bound like an animal next to the real animal with his pants at his ankles and his flaccid dick lying on the floor. I will not die here,” she repeated.
As if on cue, a howl came through the broken window, the distant call of a wolf that did not feel so distant to Kelly. She pulled on her wrists for the hundredth time, the bungee cords feeling as taut now as they had the first few times she tested them. She could feel the copper wire running between her palms, just out of reach of her fingers.
The howl came again, sending a chill up her spine.
***
Officer Jones pushed through the throng of blue smocks and white lab coats as he stumbled through the ICU ward and toward the elevator that would deliver him from the floor. His training and his intuition told him to get as far from the 5400s as he possibly could, as quickly as he could. He remembered waving at Helen, tossing her an obligatory good-bye before seeing the rush into 5467 sweep her away as well.
