Whirling World

by Drinkel, Dean M

  For several months Frank was intrigued by the creatures which had been living in Carole’s stomach. He wondered whether they had been there prior to her drinking the boy’s blood or was it because of the blood that they had actually come into being? He knew the old adage (didn’t everyone?) – WE WERE CREATED IN HIS IMAGE – but for the life of him he couldn’t imagine where these…worms…had come from.

  The night that Carole died he was questioned by the authorities quite extensively but they were satisfied with his answers. They had disposed of all the worms and when they did a thorough chemical sweep of his home for unauthorised lifeforms it was proved to be the case –of course though. Frank was clever and they didn’t know about his secret workshop hidden underneath their house.

  Every night then, approximately the same time, one o’clock, Frank would climb out of bed (careful of course not to wake Natalia – he didn’t trust her fully, not yet) and go downstairs and visit his workshop – he wouldn’t turn the light on, not until he was certain that he was completely alone.

  And once Frank was positive, everything became illuminated.

  ***

  “Hello, little fellah – how you doing?” he asked as he dropped some pellets into the tank. The thing (he knew he should give it a name but whatever he came up with well, it didn’t seem to quite fit) devoured it as if there was no tomorrow. Frank pulled up a chair and watched as it slid and slipped on the side of the tank. Whilst he couldn’t be sure, he thought it looked happy.

  Frank sighed. The thing, the worm, had grown quite large and it would be time soon for a bigger tank. That was the rub however, if he purchased one legitimately then that would no doubt bring undue attention to himself and his experiments…he couldn’t risk that not so soon after Carole’s disposal.

  The whole situation was burning away at his insides. He did want to tell the others, his friends, someone, about what had happened since that night but he couldn’t risk it. He didn’t think he could he trust them with this…anyway perhaps they weren’t that bothered, they hadn’t tried to make contact with him and not one of them had even turned up to Carole’s funeral which had angered him at the time but now, the more he thought of it, he realised it was probably for the best.

  Frank dropped more pellets into the tank. He admired this simple creature so much. It didn’t seem to have any cares – it just went about its business, in the dark, alone and waiting for him to come and feed it. It was totally dependent upon him and that gave him some satisfaction.

  There was something niggling at the back of his mind, something exciting - had the human’s blood somehow reacted with Carole’s innards in some way. If that was indeed the case, what did it mean? What did it hold for the future? Was this just a one off – was this a bastard creation never to be repeated?

  He needed to be focused. But he could feel a vibration…his cell-phone. He took it out of his pocket and answered it.

  “Hello,” he whispered.

  “Frank? Is that you?” The voice was panicked.

  “Sure…”

  “Frank, its Martin.”

  Ah, Martin – he who’s party had kicked all this off. “It’s late. I was asleep, I’m tired. What do you want?”

  “I’m sorry. I’m sorry we haven’t spoken in a while but could you come over, to my home. You’re the only one I can trust.”

  “What’s going on Martin, is there a problem?”

  “Yes, Frank, you could say that. It’s Elizabeth.”

  “Elizabeth. What about her?”

  “Please Frank, we’re wasting time. When you see her all will make sense I promise. Please tell me you’ll come.”

  “Give me thirty minutes.”

  The phone line was already dead.

  ***

  “What’s wrong with her?” Martin asked.

  Frank watched as Elizabeth writhed on the bed. “This is going to come as a massive shock but it looks like she’s gone into labour.”

  It took several moments for the full realisation to hit Martin and when it did it did so square between the eyes. “Labour? But she can’t be…she can’t be pregnant. It’s impossible.”

  Frank shrugged. “You asked me for my opinion and as impossible as it sounds, Elizabeth is having a baby – that much is obvious from the way her stomach is all distended. There is something alive in there.”

  Martin sat down on the edge of the bed. “This can’t be…how did…”

  “She must have had intercourse with that human boy. Listen my friend, I think you need to get a doctor and quickly.”

  Martin was already shaking his head. “No, we can’t do that – imagine the shame…the punishment…this will be the end for all of us.”

  “You will have to do something and quickly because if not, she might not survive...”

  On the bed Elizabeth continued to kick and groan and scream. Frank stared at her and then back to Martin. “Perhaps it wouldn’t be such a bad thing then if she didn’t see the night through. After all, what she did with the human…well, you’re right, it’s monstrous in itself isn’t it? Perhaps you should never have brought him into your home…”

  Elizabeth made a noise in the back of her throat but neither Frank nor Martin paid her the slightest of attention. Martin scratched at his face, the seed had now been planted in his brain…yes, imagine if all this could go away…there would be such shame if she was actually to give birth…but to give birth to what exactly? Some kind of hybrid of the two species…man and machine…it was blasphemous to even think like that…”

  Frank waited and waited and then he pounced.

  “Martin, this can go one of two ways.”

  “Tell me, tell me, I’ll do anything.”

  “Well, wait until you’ve heard what I’ve got to say.”

  “Please Frank, please, I just want this to be over.”

  “Fine, listen very carefully to what I’m going to tell you.”

  ***

  Frank washed his hands. It hadn’t been pretty at all but he’d been strong and had managed to see it through to the bitter end. Martin hadn’t been much use but he had helped to wrap the hunks of Elizabeth’s body in several old sheets and they had both carried them out to the disposal unit at the end of the garden. There would be no formal ceremony for her – her existence was better forgotten.

  “And that? What shall we do with that?” Martin pointed to the small metal container sitting on the table. Usually it housed odds and ends, screws, bolts that sort of stuff but now it housed something quite quite different.

  “I don’t know,” Frank replied. “I’m not entirely…” He wasn’t telling the whole truth. He didn’t want to reveal his plans to Martin – he had something in mind but he didn’t know whether it would be possible – it was just an idea, a simple idea, but it was an idea he couldn’t seem to shake.

  “Frank, I implore you, please promise me that you won’t tell anyone about this, about what happened…”

  “Why would I say anything? I could get into as much trouble as you so don’t worry about it. After all we are friends aren’t we?”

  “I hope so, I hope so,” Martin yawned as he spoke.

  Frank picked up the container, held it under his arm. “Now, as I said, don’t panic – leave everything to me – once I walk out of that door we will never speak of this again, agreed?”

  Martin looked dead on his feet but smiled nonetheless. “I owe you my life.”

  Frank smiled. “That’s what friends are for.”

  And with that, he exited, Martin closed the door behind him.

  ***

  Frank stared at the contents of the metal box at what he had removed from Elizabeth’s belly and as quick as he could he tipped the contents into the tank. He went to the door, waited for a moment and then switched off the light.

  Once upstairs he climbed into bed next to Natalia. He thought about fucking her but she was asleep so he turned his back on her, pulled the she
ets up over his head. He ignored the sounds of agony, the screams of anguish which only he could hear coming from the tank downstairs. Natalia murmured something but he just told her to go back to sleep.

  He assumed that she did.

  ***

  The months that followed were relatively peaceful. Summer became autumn which then became winter. One day in December, Frank took a walk through the park. His hat was pulled down over his face, his collar up. He didn’t really like coming out in the daytime if he could help it but sometimes needs must and he knew he needed some fresh air from time to time. What was happening in his home was becoming quite oppressive and okay, sure, he was able to work from the terminal in his front room but even so…

  “Frank, Frank is that you?”

  He ignored whoever was calling him for as long as he could but they (whoever they were) just kept going on and on and on shouting his name – they wouldn’t shut up. He was aware that others in the park were watching so he had no choice but to stop and turn.

  Fuck.

  It was Martin – with a broad smile on his face. He was holding hands with someone and they were walking towards Frank…his heart, electronic as it was, beat madly in his chest.

  “So it is you Frank, I thought it was…”

  “Yes, it’s me.”

  “I almost didn’t recognise you…have you lost weight?” Martin asked. “This is my new spouse.”

  “Mathilde,” she said holding out her hand.

  “Frank and I go way back,” Martin quickly stated. “Are you okay my friend?”

  “Yes, sure…just a little under the weather of late, that’s all. I’ve been working on an important project, it’s taken up a lot of my time…”

  “It was a shame that you and Natalia didn’t come to the wedding, we all had such an amazing time.” He squeezed Mathilde’s hand – she squeezed back.

  “Sorry about that,” Frank replied then added: “Natalia and I are no longer together.” He thought it better to get it out in the open now so they didn’t (hopefully!) ask any more questions – and talking about being out in the open, he needed to get back home and quickly, he’d been away for far too long as it was. His head was starting to itch.

  “Sorry Martin, but I have to go, I have to go,” Frank began to step away. He was feeling angry with himself, he shouldn’t have allowed himself to be as vulnerable as this. It was stupid, he should have known better. The next time (should there be a next time) he dared venture outside then he would have to vary his route or even leave it until night time when it was quieter and the chances of seeing anyone that knew him would severely diminish.

  “Perhaps we could meet up for a drink sometime?” Martin called.

  “That would be nice,” Frank said as he turned his back.

  “Tomorrow. We can come tomorrow. Mathilde bakes a mean dessert, we can bring some wine…”

  Frank, not particularly listening raised an arm and waved. Yes, he’d been out for far too long. He needed to get home and quickly.

  ***

  Frank ate from the can. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was he was consuming, it had no colour, no taste, no texture but he assumed it was sustenance and that was what he needed – he couldn’t afford to be sick, he had to keep going. He sipped from the hot drink and then rubbed his eyes.

  When was the last time he’d had a proper night’s sleep – days, weeks, months? He couldn’t remember precisely…realities blended into one another. He felt his cheek – damn that last cut had been particularly deep, he’d have to do something about the…

  …the doorbell was ringing. Who could that be? He shrugged. What did it matter, he was going to ignore it anyway. Whoever it was, he was sure they would get bored and give up.

  But no, they were insistent. He put down the cup, straightened his beanie hat and went to the door. He took a deep breath and opened it.

  Martin.

  And his wife, whatever her name was – she held a small box in her hands, Martin had a bottle of wine tucked up under his arm.

  “Frank,” Martin smiled, pushing forward the bottle.

  “Yeah? What do you want? What are you doing here?” Frank was totally confused – who were these people and why were they bothering him?

  “I told you we should have telephoned to confirmed,” Mathilde whispered.

  “No its fine, its fine isn’t it Frank?” Martin pushed past his friend and into the house.

  “Wait for me,” Mathilde called and followed her husband inside.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Frank slammed the door closed and walked along his corridor – he joined the two invaders in the kitchen.

  “Jesus, what the hell have you been up to?” Martin asked. “Or rather what haven’t you been doing? Look at the state of this place!”

  Frank stared at them and then took in the kitchen – okay, sure it was a mess but they didn’t understand his work, his project – they didn’t understand what he was doing, what he was trying to achieve.

  “Can you please leave now?” he mumbled.

  Mathilde covered her nose. “Not yet, not without helping you clean up – I mean Frank, how did you…”

  A noise came from downstairs.

  No, not actually a noise…a scream.

  “Is there someone else in the house?” Martin asked but then laughed.

  Mathilde grabbed her husband’s arm. “You heard exactly what I heard…a scream…Frank? What’s going on?”

  “I’ve got the television on, that’s all,” Frank quickly stated.

  “We all know that wasn’t the television,” she scoffed.

  “Yes,” Frank angrily replied. “Hey, come back here.”

  Mathilde wasn’t listening, she was looking towards the cellar door, the doorway which now it was only him he didn’t bother to hide anymore. Her fingers hovered over the door handle.

  “My darling,” Martin started, he sounded somewhat embarrassed. “Let’s go, you just can’t force yourself into Frank’s business…”

  “Of course I can and I will,” Mathilde spat. “It sounds like someone is trapped down there and they need our help.” She pulled the handle and the door opened. “Christ, what is that smell…has someone died down here?”

  Martin turned to Frank who had a nondescript look upon his face. “What’s going on old man?”

  “You’ve had your fun, just get out - leave me and my project alone…”

  Franks words were said too late, Mathilde totally ignored him bolting through the open door and down the stairs. Martin was rooted to the spot but kept his attention firmly on the door. Only when he heard his wife’s scream did he decide to follow.

  “What are you fucking up to Frank? Have you got something…someone…prisoner?”

  “What do you take me for?” Frank replied. His eyes fell to the sink, there was a knife. He didn’t really want to do it but he realised then that he didn’t have a choice. He had really liked Martin in the past and Mathilde seemed okay but he had to put personal believes aside, they were both interfering with his plans.

  Frank took a deep breath. “I’m sorry Martin,” he said as he walked towards the sink. From downstairs there came a second scream and Mathilde called for Martin so Martin rushed down the stairs. Frank grabbed the knife, wiped it on his trousers and began to follow. He had to be quick, he knew that. He had to act quickly before they laid eyes on his project.

  “I’m so sorry, so sorry,” he repeated as he stepped through the door and onto that first step.

  ***

  “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit,” Martin fell to his knees. Mathilde was lying on the floor and by the angle of her head and neck there could be no doubting that she was dead. Frank walked slowly down the stairs, when he reached the bottom he took off his shirt and threw it down.

  “What’s the matter with you Martin?” Frank asked.

  “Mathilde…she’s dead…and there was something… something over ther
e…” He pointed towards the broken tank and the overflowing foliage which covered most of the corner of the room. There was a rustling amongst the leaves, a raspy breathing too but Martin wasn’t paying attention; he grabbed the corpse of his wife and cradled her in his arms.

  Though he was half naked, the sweat poured from Frank’s face. A combination no doubt of both the extreme temperature in the room mixed with a little nervousness he was currently feeling. He knew that this was the perfect time to reveal to his friend all about his project – he did pay a cursory glance towards the lair, he knew full well what lurked there and what, no doubt, was going to happen very shortly. He looked at the various wounds to his own chest and abdomen: the congealed fluids, the ripped and torn flesh, the electrics and synthetics revealed.

  “You have to look at me Martin…please look at me,” Frank whispered as he kicked off his shoes, undid his trousers and stepped out of them. Finally he pulled down his underwear so he was totally naked. His whole body was covered in the wounds…were they…bite marks?

  Martin turned eventually and frowned – it took him several moments to drink it all in. “What the hell happened to you Frank?”

  Frank smiled as with his free hand he took off his hat, reached behind his head, found that thin strip of silicone and began to pull – within moments his hair and scalp fell away – what was there was one large soggy mass. He stumbled towards Martin, then fell to his knees, his head lolled forward.

  “I’ve become transformed Martin. I wasn’t sure at first but the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Perfect sense. I’m sorry about what happened to Mathilde but my child…my children…they need nourishment. They took Natalia from me…no, I gave her to them willingly…my children…they needed nourishment.”