by Various
He walked backwards, keeping an eye on the creatures. They remained as they were, standing as if waiting for something. He stumbled, falling over two other creatures that had crept up behind. He fell hard, in front of his open car door. He felt much like screaming, but nothing exited his agape mouth. Quickly he entered his car, shut the door and turned the ignition. Nothing. He looked up, out his windshield to see three of the creatures dancing on his hood, and one of the creatures held his distributor cap in its hand as it danced fancifully.
***
Zak woke in a cold sweat. The winter sun shone through his bedroom window. He had slept through the night, but not as comfortably as he'd liked. The dream, the creatures flashed through his mind, causing him to shudder. He was leaving work as he recalled. The car he didn't own yet, though he had designs on buying it. Maybe I should choose another color, he thought as he dismissed the dream.
He dressed, tossed on his jacket and went across the street to the diner. He smiled and felt a spring in his step. The packed snow crunched under his feet as he jogged across the street, avoiding the small bit of traffic as he did. Outside the diner he stopped, tipped his head back and glared up at overcast skies. He smiled, inhaling deeply, then blew out his breath in a long steady stream. He watched his crystal breath roll though the air in a sparkling plume. He smiled again, and winked at the couple who happened by.
He entered the diner, not in his usual "Leave me alone," manner, rather one that suggested he was ready to take on the world. He chose to sit smack in the middle of the diner, instead of hiding in a corner booth. As he sat and waited for his waitress, he took in the sights of the diner. People were scattered everywhere. Some in conversation while others read the paper and sipped their coffee. There were a few families - the kids ate their pancakes or colored on the kid's menus provided. Many things he never thought to pay attention to before.
The waitress was coming, and Zak sat up straight and put on a warm and inviting smile. "Julie," he began, as she was his favorite and the only one at the diner who ever really paid him any mind.
"The usual?" She replied.
"Nope, today I would like a sausage and cheese omelet, side of bacon and a large cup of OJ." He said rather proudly.
Julie smiled in surprise, "Would you like some toast or pancakes this morning?"
He stared up at her for a moment. He'd never really noticed that she was a rather attractive woman. She was kind and helpful as well. He smiled at her, and she returned the smile with a slight turn of embarrassment. "Pancakes, Julie, I would like the pancakes."
"Very well," she said, turning on her toes and sauntering off to deliver his order.
Breakfast sat well with Zak. He savored the taste of the sausage, bacon and the OJ. He took special delight in the pancakes, which he smothered in strawberries and maple syrup. He also took a special interest in Julie, who spent much time at his table exchanging small talk and smiles.
As he left the diner, he was sure to give Julie one last glance. She looked away and smiled, embarrassed by his attention. He thought for a moment about going back in and asking her out, but thought better as he had a few things to take care of before he could consider such a move.
Instead of going back to his apartment as he would normally have done, where he would have spent the rest of the morning laying in bed, absorbing the pain and cursing the doctors, he walked along the street, looking into the windows of the small shops that lined his way. He also thought about the liquid he got from the old woman, and how it was the first thing he had ever taken that didn't turn his stomach. A miracle cure, which was more than he had ever hoped for.
At the end of the block he spied it. The lightning yellow Lancer. The one from his dream and the car he had been saving for. He had the money for the down payment and the credit to finance, but never bothered to follow through because of his cancer. Now, however, with the pain gone and the cancer as well, what was stopping him?
Zak Tran moseyed across the street and eyed the car up close. He admired the clean finish, even beneath the gray sky. The lines were sharp and nicely molded. It had the racing gear, spoiler, pinstripes, tires and even a moonroof.
"She's a beauty." He heard someone say.
It was a salesman. "I want her." Zak rubbed his hand over the cold paint and smiled.
***
His new lightning yellow Lancer shined. Snow had begun to fall as Zak looked on proudly at his new car. The thought occurred to him that he would have to return to work, and he would. His boss had been more than kind to him, allowing him to take a leave of absence, and promising him a job whenever he felt up to coming back. His savings were gone, now that he'd purchased the car, and he hadn't earned a paycheck in over two months. His pain was gone, even if it was only for a day. He was convinced that his cancer was cured by some miracle from the wrinkled old woman, and he did have another bottle of the remedy. He decided then that he would return to work tomorrow and finally get his life back on track.
Zak returned to his apartment and tossed the keys and his keyless entry pad on his nightstand. Opening the refrigerator, he grabbed a beer and turned on the television. He flipped channels for a while, moving from one Christmas show to another, settling on 'It's a Wonderful Life.'
He couldn't get over the feeling. The relief to be able to live a day free of pain. His thoughts kept wandering back to the frail old lady and how she so willingly helped him. He was fortunate in that respect, he figured. Through it all, there was always someone who was kind to him; his boss, Julie at the diner and now the old woman.
The television faded into the backdrop as he made himself comfortable in his chair. He took a long, slow drink of his beer before setting it down. His thoughts, they flew through his mind in a blaze. He felt, dare he think, happy at that moment. Content and most pleased with the sudden change of events. He thought this, as his eyes grew heavy.
***
A chill floated in from beneath the door and through the cracks in the window frame. Zak grabbed a blanket and wrapped himself in it. He sat back down to enjoy the end of 'It's a Wonderful Life.'
The chill continued to grow, until Zak could take no more. He felt the cold as it bit his cheeks and nose. His breath rolled from his mouth in a white plume. Getting up he took the blanket and wore it like a robe. The plaid blanket draped as he shuffled his feet across the floor towards the thermostat.
"Jesus," he complained, tapping the thermostat, which read 27 degrees. Zak checked the windows, then closed all the drapes, checked the door and then went back to the thermostat. It read twenty-five degrees.
Zak turned, angry and cold. He had every intention of calling the superintendent, but there would be no phone calls anytime soon. Zak stepped back, as three black creatures crept towards him. He recognized them as the creatures in his dream. Their small furry frames covered in matted black fur. Their eyes and mouths were stitched closed by three small X'.
They danced and shook violently as they approached him. Zak tried to move, but it was as if the cold had frozen him in place. The creatures slowed - he stared down at each of the identical-looking beasts.
Zak broke free of his fear and lunged for the bed as one of the creatures flew at him. He heard the thud as it hit the wall. He turned to see the other two helping the third to its feet.
Quickly he made his way over the bed and to the door. The knob was stuck, and when Zak tried to remove his hand, he realized his hand was stuck too. Frantically he tried to open the door, then tried to free his hand from the doorknob. He could hear behind him the approaching creatures as they dragged their feet across the hardwood floor. The scratching got louder as Zak increased his tempo of pushing and pulling on the door. Still it would not budge.
He let off a wail of fear as one of the creatures lunged onto his back. He looked over his shoulder as the stitched eyes monster seemed to be staring back at him. Then it tried to open its mouth. The stitches, which appeared to be pulpy flesh, stretched to reveal a row of shiny silver
teeth. The creature couldn't keep its mouth open though, and with each effort, its mouth would clamp down tighter. Zak slapped at the thing as he continued frantically to open the door.
Another wail crossed his lips when the second creature pounced on him. He could feel their claws digging into his shoulder and back as they began to tear at him.
Soon all three of the creatures were on him, each clawing at him, and fighting to get their mouths open so they could devour him. The pain in his back was blinding. Still he tried to open the door with the hand that was stuck to the doorknob. With his free hand he slapped at the creatures, trying to get hold of their fur, something to help him get them off.
***
"Oh-God!" Zak Tran woke with a fright. His hands dug into the arm of the chair, and his legs pulled close to his chest.
"You did not thank Jahobe."
Zak jumped from the chair. He backed into the kitchen, pointing a trembling finger. "How did you get in here?" He asked the old woman.
"You did not thank Jahobe, so he sent me to deliver a message."
"What the-"
"Jahobe says that you are ungrateful."
"I never asked for anything, you-"
"Jahobe says you will get back what he has taken."
"No! I will thank Jahobe!"
Zak watched the old woman as she walked away. "It is too late, Jahobe says."
Zak chased the old woman as she entered the hallway, but he was too late. The old woman vanished like an apparition.
***
Zak hadn't left his apartment in two days. He sat up in his bed rocking himself. On the table sat the small bottle of remedy that had brought him the great relief. The relief he still felt, but didn't know if it would stay forever now. Christmas was in three days and he would see another one as Dr. Gibbons suggested, or would he?
Outside his apartment, he could see the reflection of the blinking Christmas lights. A hush of Christmas songs he could hear through the walls of his apartment. It was a festive time, a time of family and friends, but not for Zak. He alienated his friends from work after he got sick. And his family in Vietnam disowned him for fleeing to America. Christmas was never festive for him anyway; he hated the holidays, this one the most.
He clutched at his stomach. His pain was replaced with the sickly feeling of fear in the pit of his abdomen. The old woman had spooked him, and the creatures in his dreams terrified him. He had only slept once since the old woman's visit, and there again the black creatures visited him.
He felt the sleep creeping up on him as he rocked. He wasn't about to sleep. Zak grabbed his coat and decided to head for the diner. He walked quickly through the dark hallways and down the stairs. He kept an eye open for the old woman.
He stepped out into the snow. The large flakes floated gently all around him. It was the kind of snow that brought a stillness to the night. The streetlights captured by the low hanging clouds provided a sense of warmth. The streets were clear of traffic, and he found himself alone in an otherwise busy neighborhood.
His trek was accompanied by the crunch of fresh snow beneath his feet. How long it had been snowing he did not know, but it was a steady flow, laying a white blanket of maybe four or five inches. He kept a weary eye out to his right and left, occasionally peeking behind him to make sure the old lady wasn't following. Zak Tran was not a violent man by any means, but he had decided during the past days that if the old lady ever showed herself again, he couldn't promise that he wouldn't hurt her.
The diner was closed, the sign that hung in the middle of the door read, "Be back at 4:00 a.m." He hadn't even bothered to check the time before he left. He looked down at his wristwatch, '3:35 a.m.' it read. He dropped his hand in disgust. At least the walk in the cold and snow woke him up. He headed back to his apartment, his step a little quicker and his eyes more attentive.
As he approached the steps to his apartment, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye. He looked quickly to his right. There in the middle of the street stood the old lady. Zak stopped and turned back down the steps. He ran as the old woman turned and walked away. She moved swiftly, almost as if she were floating over the powder. Zak tried to pick up the pace and catch her before she slipped between the buildings. He failed.
When he reached the alley, the old woman was gone. Zak walked in a few feet before backing back out. He wasn't about to venture in and chase after her. He walked back to where the old woman was standing. She had dropped something that he hadn't noticed before. It was a small handkerchief with the word 'Jahobe' stitched in small X's. Something else too, there were no footprints except for his in the fresh powder. He turned back to the alley, looking through the shadows to the lights from the next street. Zak dropped the handkerchief and rubbed his hands on his pants as if to clean them.
He walked backwards for several steps, stumbling over the curb back onto the sidewalk. That's when he saw them, the black creatures as they danced from the alley and out into the street. The ugly little beasts held hands and frolicked in the snow, tumbling and throwing snow back and forth. Zak didn't stick around while the creatures played. He ran up the sidewalk towards his apartment building like he had never run before. The snowflakes whisked by him as he sped through the night and up the stairs, entering the building in a thunder. He thought briefly as he bolted up the stairs to stop at one of the apartments and ask for help. They would think I was nuts, he thought as he continued.
The door to his apartment slammed hard behind him. He struggled with the locks. It was all he could do to steady his hand to lock the chain and deadbolt. He turned against the door and let himself slide to his rear. He sat there, trying to slow his breathing. The ache in his lungs stung with each deep and abrupt breath he took.
Outside the door, he could hear the creatures as they ambled up the steps. Surely, someone else has to hear the racket they were making. He looked over at the phone. "Someone has to call the cops," he mumbled as he scrambled to his feet and backed away from the door.
Zak held the receiver in his hand, when the uncanny silence drew his attention away. He returned the receiver, his brow furrowed in curiosity. He moved gingerly towards the door, each step, a quiet cat-like move. Uncertainty ruled his action, and curiosity moved his limbs. Had the creatures gone? Perhaps the old woman had returned? He hoped the latter.
Pressing an ear up against the solid wood door, he listened carefully for any movement or noise from the creatures. He heard nothing, so decided he would open the door. He reached for the deadbolt when he heard them again. Quickly he backed away as the creatures scratched at the door. The noise was incredible, the clawing and now banging that rattled the door. Zak backed away as the door buckled, then began to splinter. Soon the menacing black creatures had broken through his door.
The three black creatures moved intently across the floor to where Zak stood. They were quick, not stopping to play or jest among themselves. Zak crumbled to the floor in fear of the monsters. Their stitched mouths and eyes struggled to open, stretching the stitching until they broke. He tried to scream as the three emerald-eyed beast overtook him. He tried to fight them off - his arms wailed about, but each time he struck the creatures they would just run right back and climb on top of him.
He struggled, hoping that perhaps this too was a dream and that he would wake at any moment in a cold sweat and laugh the whole business off. But they were hurting him now. Their sharp silver claws dug into his flesh as they chattered their jagged silver teeth. He tired, as the pain and insistence of their attack wore him down. He submitted, dropping his hands. He thought about Christmas, and how he was going to see another one. He wasn't so certain now, though days before he wished he'd die and get it over with.
The creatures, they stopped as well. The three gathered around Zak's head, all staring down mischievously at him. Then six little hands reached out and grabbed at his mouth. They forced it open, with remarkable ease. Then one by one they leaned over and crawled into his mouth, forcing their way pas
t his lips. Zak struggled as each of them clawed down his throat. He could feel them wiggling inside his stomach, working their way down.
He screamed, but only the hiss of the creatures could be heard as they consumed him.
***
Zak could hear the carolers as they sang a joyful Christmas song. They wandered the street below, bringing cheer to everyone. They came every Christmas morning. Their joy-filled songs were of peace and laughter. He found no comfort in them, for three Christmases now.
He grimaced at the pain in his abdomen as he crawled over to the table. He longed for the small bottle, the one filled with the remedy. But it was gone and in its place was a small handkerchief with the name 'Jahobe ' stitched into it. It was a gift from the old woman, who came and retrieved her remedy.
The pain was unbearable, worse than before. The cancer had spread from his abdomen to his stomach and pancreas. Three places now, three places of pain, and no room for relief. The pills all made him sick and he refused hospice care. He'd rather lay up in his apartment and waste away. Or, perhaps as his cruel fate had already dictated, he would suffer through a fourth Christmas.
Zak Tran did make a list this year. It seemed that Santa didn't deliver to his apartment. He only asked for one thing. Surely the man could accommodate his one wish-death.
L.J. Blount
L.J. Blount has been writing for a little over two-years. His work has appeared at numerous houses, both in print and online. This includes the appearance in the Cold Storage Anthology. But, it is the future that is more in turn. Aside from his work in Atrocitas Aqua Anthology, he has several projects on tap for 2003. These included the publication of his first short story collection entitled: Dark Vigil (which will be released as an ebook (02/03) and a TPB (06/03). His first novel will be released later in 2003 (entitled: Augur of Armageddon). Also, he has two other stories to be released in separate DDP anthologies later 2003.
