How to Recognize a Demon Has Become Your Friend
by
Linda D. Addison
Necon Modern Horror #9
Cover and Interior Art by Jill Bauman
A digital edition published by Necon E-Books
Copyright 2011 Linda Addison
Cover & Interior Art Copyright 2011 by Jill Bauman
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
The stories contained herein, including names, characters and places, are works of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
This collection is dedicated to Bob Booth, the Necon Gang and all my friends and family who have wrapped me in love…
Copyright Acknowledgments
“Night of the Living and Dead” copyright 1995 by Outer Darkness magazine, Fall Annual.
“Little Red in the Hood” copyright 1995 by Tomorrow magazine.
“Pullus Cogens” copyright 1997 by Tomorrow magazine.
“Dust to Dust”, “One Night at Sheri-Too-Long’s Popcorn Bar”, “Just Passing Through”, “The Box”, “Animated Objects”, “Am I Repeating Myself?” copyright 1997 by Animated Objects (Space & Time).
“Boo” copyright 1998 by Going Postal anthology (Space & Time).
“Land Sharks” copyright Sept 1998 by Asimov’s SF magazine.
“Fire/Fight”, “Forever Dead”, “Bottling Up De Evil”, “Mourning Meal”, “Sharp, Shiny Hurting Things” copyright 2001 by Consumed, Reduced to Beautiful Grey Ashes (Space & Time).
“Excerpts from The Unabridged Traveler’s Guide as UFOs in Galaxy A.G.2” copyright 2001 by Scars anthology.
“Comic Cannibals” copyright 2001 by GSHW in A Fearful Way.
“The Power” copyright 2004 Dark Dreams (Kensington Publishing Corp).
“Milez To Go” copyright 2006 by Voices From The Other Side, Dark Dreams II (Kensington Publishing Corp).
Introduction
I’ve always loved words. When I was in school and the teacher gave me a copy of my first book, “See Dick Run” kind of book. I remember holding it and knowing I wanted to make things like this without understanding what that meant. I did know it told a story and my mother was a wonderful storyteller who would make up tales, and include us children as characters.
I still love words. I’ve been known to take the titles of friends’ books and turn them into a poem. Some find it amusing and/or perplexing. I just like playing with words.
From Linda to Linda
One Night at Sheri-Too-Long’s Popcorn Bar
after Working Up the Corporate Ladder
I ordered a Pullus Cogens on the rocks,
having failed to Recognize my Friend had Become a Demon
I became a Ghost Driving Sharp, Shiny Hurting Things
down a endless road of 369 Gates of Hell.
In this Night of the Living and Dead
I was Just Passing Through, Unrequited and sad,
what little Power was left in me was more of a Mourning Meal,
sprinkled with ground Land Sharks, the band ‘Milez To Go’
played, Little Red from the Hood danced with Comic Cannibals,
Am I Repeating Myself?
There is no Future or Past, just me and The Forever Dead
wishing we had bottled Up De Evil,
In This Strange Place, Imperfect and weak, I want to
Live and Let Live, but Demons Dance with Animated Objects,
Bending into the Fire/Fight around me, I wish I had recognized
a Demon had Become my Friend, so I could return,
Dust to Dust, to Galaxy A.G.2 and the peace of mortality.
— Linda Addison
How to Recognize a Demon Has Become Your Friend
Song from their open mouth makes you sleep,
upon waking you feel empty and sad,
there is a mark of ash on your chest
where your heart should be.
Their eyes remind you of hunger,
but everything you eat has no taste,
your eyes reflect flames in the mirror
you stare at the sun, but it doesn’t hurt.
They ask you for the time
but you tell them when you were born,
suddenly you can’t remember
your mother or father.
Your other friends stop calling you,
their faces flash as ‘Missing’ online,
you change your status to
‘Possessed’ on your social network.
When you walk past a church with them
you feel sick and have to cross the street,
they joke about being allergic to old
buildings, you laugh with them.
One day you blink and you have no breath,
memories of your life fade like a dream,
all you see is red sky, ash under your feet
and in their burning arms you cannot cry.
Dust to Dust
My remains have been rudely thrust into the ground without a coffin. There is something unfinished about the whole thing. I wish I could remember dying.
Gasses created in my intestines churn through useless blood vessels and dead tissue, inflating what was a thin body into something large and misshapen. My body fluids leak from every opening into the surrounding earth. There is life in me still, if I count the maggots feasting inside. I must smell and look horrible.
I now know where the soul lives. The enduring bones. Through my bones I’m connected to the earth around me. I hear the murmuring of others, their bones talking, praying, and calling out. The earth answers us, singing warmth and security.
Distant voices of pain cry in deep sadness. There is some horror there, I fear. Are they in Hell? It’s hard to imagine the earth that has been my comfort giving pain. The screams of those tortured souls recedes.
I measure time by the changes in the soft mass surrounding my bones. Gas-filled organs rupture and leak from under skin slippery with large blisters. Escaping fluid purges my maggot guests and allows the earth to move closer. I can’t wait until these soft parts rot away, to have all of my bones touched by earth. Here and there my skeleton is exposed.
Grains of dirt caress parts of my skull and fingers free of skin and tissue. The joy and peace flowing to me is like no feeling I can remember before I died.
There is randomness to my memory of the other side. The memories are fleeting, filled with the needs of the breathing soft body that covered my bones when I was alive. Moments of happiness and pain entangle, making the memories all but meaningless to capture. Nothing like the tranquility the earth gives me. The song of earth’s souls surrounding me is more beautiful than anything I’ve ever experienced. I could spend eternity with this song.
All the rotting meat is gone. Finally my bones are touched by earth. I am complete. The only thing better will be when my bones crumble and mix with the earth.
There is a subtle change in the song around me. It’s becoming distant. A white light covers my bones. The light comes towards me. There are others in the light. I’m being pulled into the light, back to the other side. I’m losing all of this. I don’t want to be smothered in organs, muscles and skin
again. I don’t want to become deaf to the songs, to be a single, lonely body again.
I start to cry…
Mourning Meal
She was so hungry
raw nothingness
growing at her center.
Eating began with simple things
a kindergarten drawing
the yellow construction paper crunchy.
The plastic badge from swimming class
chewy at first
its silver foil edge caught in her teeth.
The handmade Mother’s Day card
smelled sweet
its crayon words tasted bitter.
One toy spaceman
bitten into little pieces
swallowed like strange pills.
She ate her way through his trail
piece by sheet
but still the hunger scratched inside.
Each memory lingered
like the sweet herbs she used
in his favorite meal.
Soup she would never make again
like his face
she would never see again.
The Power
The first time Brenda saw her cousin, Angelique, she looked like a black angel. Dark as sweet chocolate, dressed in shades of cinnamon chiffon. As Angelique stood at the top of the Amtrak train stairs, Brenda took one look at her and knew she had the Power. It glimmered around her. She glanced at her father. He obviously didn’t see how special Angelique was; even Angelique seemed unaware of the strength of the sparkling light she threw out that Saturday morning.
“Angelique, is that you?” Brenda’s father lifted the girl from the train to the ground. The layers of her dress floated in the air like wings. “Look how you’ve grown. Last time I saw you, you were only as tall as a dream, and now you and your cousin Brenda are growing like rainbows into the sky.”
Brenda was used to her father talking like poetry, every now and then. Grandmom said he was one of those people who’d been born in a moment of luminosity and had no choice. He was an artist who made things out of anything he found on the street, and taught elementary school. Fortunately, Brenda was never in his classes, but Grandmom said that was just the way it should be, plain and simple, and Brenda should thank her mother in heaven for looking after her.
A porter carried Angelique’s suitcases to the platform.
“Girl, your mother sent you with enough clothes for a year, and you’re only here for the summer. That’s just like Julia.” He laughed. “This is a beautiful dress, but I hope you got some playing-around clothes.”
“Yes, sir,” Angelique said.
“In North Carolina that’s the polite thing to say, but there are no ‘sirs’ here in Philly. Uncle Larry will do. Okay?”
“Yes, Uncle Larry,” she said slowly.
“How are your Mom and Dad?” he asked.
“Mother is busy with her charity work, and Father’s business is doing very well.” Angelique smoothed her dress.
“Good. Now let’s get you home so your grandmother can take a look at you. She’s cooked quite a feast in your honor.”
Larry picked up as many suitcases as he could carry; the porter trailed behind with the rest.
Brenda took Angelique’s hand and pulled her along with them. “I’m so happy you’re here. You’re staying in my room. I’ve got two beds. We can be like twin sisters, just like our moms really were.”
“I’d like that.” Angelique squeezed Brenda’s hand.
When they reached the parking lot Larry paid the porter and packed the suitcases in the car. Angelique whispered in Brenda’s ear, “Do you know that old woman following us?”
“Where?” Brenda asked.
“Behind me, across the street.” Angelique turned around. “She’s gone now, but she was staring at us on the train platform.”
“I didn’t notice her.” Brenda shrugged. “Could’ve been anybody.”
As they drove to West Philadelphia, Brenda talked about all the fun they would have over the summer. They pulled into a driveway next to a three floor wood house off Lancaster Avenue. As they stepped out of the car, their grandmother waved to them from the porch.
She gathered Angelique into her strong arms and gave her a huge hug. Her deep laugh echoed on the porch as she held Angelique at arm’s length.
“Girl, look at you. Grown up enough at twelve to travel by yourself.” She shook her head while smiling.
Larry carried some suitcases to the porch and went back to the car for the rest.
“Everyone grab a bag,” Grandmom said.
The house was filled with the smell of roasted chicken and apple pie. Grandmom settled in the green velvet couch and made Angelique sit next to her. “Now, let’s give your mother a call.”
“I’ll do it.” Angelique picked up the phone.
“Hello, Mother.
“Yes, the train ride was fine.
“No, I won’t forget.
“Yes, Mother.” Angelique said several times as she chewed the corner of her right thumb.
“Goodbye.” She handed the phone to her grandmother.
“Hi, honey.
“Oh, you worry too much. Nobody is running wild here. Her and Brenda will have a great summer.” She winked at Angelique.
“We’ll give you a call next week. Bye sweetie.”
She patted Angelique’s hand. “That daughter of mine always did worry too much. You know I think it’ll be good for both of you to have a little space. Now let’s eat some of this food I’ve been cooking.”
The dining room table was set up with the good china and silverware on a white lace tablecloth. White candles stood in crystal candle holders and a crystal bowl filled with daisies decorated the center of the table.
“It looks like Thanksgiving,” Angelique said.
“And that’s just what it is, child, because we’re thankful to have you here.” She hugged Angelique. “You girls wash your hands and help me bring out the vegetables.”
The doorbell rang. Larry answered it and the house filled with the sounds of children and adults as his two brothers and their families came in.
The evening went like a family reunion, everyone talking and eating. Angelique answered everyone’s questions politely, smiled shyly and stayed near Brenda or her grandmother. After dessert, the adults sat in the living room drinking and smoking while the children played checkers in the dining room.
Everyone left around nine and their grandmother sent the girls to bed, saying Angelique was tired from all that traveling and Brenda from being so excited.
The next morning, after breakfast, Brenda asked, “Can we go to the video store, Grandmom? I want to show Angelique around the neighborhood. “
“That’s fine, just be back home by lunch time.”
“We will,” Brenda said.
They walked to the corner of the block. They passed a couple of neighbors working in their yard, but once they turned onto Lancaster Avenue the sidewalk was full of people. Brenda and Angelique looked in the windows of the shoe and clothes store, and ran into some of Brenda’s friends on the way to the video rental store. They spent a long time looking at the new movie and game releases before picking an action movie to rent.
On the way home they heard a shuffling behind them. Brenda looked backwards quickly. “It’s that crazy old lady from across the street.”
Angelique glanced at the woman. “That’s the woman I saw at the train station.”
Brenda frowned. “Just ignore her.” She pointed at a small deli on the corner. “Let’s get some sodas.”
When they came out of the store, the woman was not in sight. They turned the next corner onto the block of their house. The old woman limped out from behind a large oak tree. She was dressed in layers, torn red pants under a gray dress and dirty beige sweater.
She gestured with a bent finger at them. “You shoulda been my sweet girl. I be teaching you right stuff–make good use of all that sweet sparkly breathing out of your skin. She won
’t show you all the light - dark makings.” She spat in the direction of their house.
“Mrs. Johnston, we need to get home,” Brenda said, pulling Angelique around the woman.
“Don’t you worry, it ain’t you I got the problem with. Keep up your learning. Yeah, that’s what you do, my shiny diamonds. I follow your light. You my pretty key.” She laughed through a mouth of missing teeth.
They heard her shrill laughter as they rushed down the street. When they turned around she was gone. They sat on the porch to get their breath.
“What was she talking about?” Angelique asked.
“Don’t pay any attention to her. She’s been strange every since I can remember. People say she lost her mind when her husband and son died in a car accident.” Brenda pointed to a broken down house across the street. “That’s her place.”
The yard was overgrown with weeds and a wild rose bush covering the front porch. A couple of windows were broken and paint peeled from the wood frame.
“That house doesn’t look like anyone lives in it,” Angelique said. “Are you sure she’s not dangerous?”
“She can’t hurt us, we’re protected.”
“What do you mean?”
“I’ll explain later, let’s get lunch.” Brenda unlocked the front door.
After lunch, Brenda asked, “Grandmom, can we go to the attic?”
“Okay, honey. Be careful up there.” She spread fresh herbs from the garden on the kitchen table.
“We will,” Brenda said.
They went up to the second floor. Brenda pulled the attic cord, lowered the stair ladder and scampered up into the dark opening. Angelique took one step and stood at the bottom.
“It’s kind of dark,” she said.
“Just a minute.” Brenda disappeared into the attic and a light came on. After a few seconds she popped her head out of the opening. Angelique was still on the first step. “You coming? There’s lots of cool stuff up here.”
Angelique stepped up and tottered forward to hold onto the upper steps. “I-I — “
“You’ve never been on a ladder before?” Brenda asked.
“Ladies don’t climb ladders.” She held onto the step.
“I don’t know about that, but if you want to get to the attic you’re going to have to climb this ladder. Here, back off.” Brenda climbed back down. “You go up first. Take one step at a time, hold on to the step above if you need, but don’t look up or down, just go for the next step until you’re at the top. I’ll be right behind you. I won’t let you fall. I promise.”
How To Recognize A Demon Has Become Your Friend (Necon Modern Horror Book 9) Page 1
