by Sam Williams
Bill spent the early morning lying on the floor, watching the darkness fade and the first rays of the morning sun materialize and grow. Lying there, he thought about his family. Anxiety was building over the possibility of never seeing them again and the idea of spending years, or longer, in the classroom. He wondered if ghosts really could lose their sanity and how Helen was holding on to it, or even if she was.
“You need to get up; the kids will be here soon.”
It took a minute for Bill to break from his thoughts and remember where he was and what Helen meant.
“Follow me.” Helen said, then climbed a tall book case in the back of the room. Bill found it surprisingly easy to do. There was no exertion, he almost felt weightless as he climbed. On their perch they watched the kids arrive for the school day. Some came in packs of twos and threes and others by themselves. Helen seemed to know each and everyone by her countless hours of observation, she shared with Bill their names and idiosyncrasies and even her hypothesis of their futures.
They sat there and watched the kids. Bill enjoyed the diversion but soon became restless. He watched two boys pull a diorama of a castle out of a cabinet to work on.
“That looks interesting.” Bill said as he poised to jump down.
“Please be very careful.” Helen warned.
Lifting himself with his palms, he slid his legs forward and jumped. It was an unusual feeling as he went through the air and he misjudged the effort needed. He landed on the side of his foot and rolled to the ground. Helen screamed.
“I am fine, remember I'm already dead?”
But it wasn't the fall that caused Helen to scream. Bill looked up to see the sole of a sneaker coming down onto his face. There was no pain but an almost unbearably uncomfortable sensation and for a moment he saw only blackness. When the boy moved his foot, Bill’s vision came back. He looked up to see Helen sitting with her face buried in her hands. She raised her head and looked at Bill with tears rolling down her cheeks. Climbing down, she stood by Bill.
“I told you, you have to be careful.”
“It's ok. I am fine.”
“No Bill you're not and now I have to look at you! Come with me.” Helen took Bill by his hand and rushed them to the nearest wall.
Bill didn't like Helen's tone. It occurred to him her calm and understanding demeanor was the only thing keeping him calm since he found himself here. He wondered what the big deal was; if maybe she wasn't as sane as he thought. Then he looked at his reflection in a mirror on the wall.
He had seen his reflection in the window earlier. The sight of his child self looking back had made him uncomfortable and he only stopped long enough to ponder why ghosts had reflections. He came to the conclusion some spectrum of light must reflect off them or he wouldn't be able to see Helen. As hard as it was for him to see his surreal image before, his reflection now was even harder to see.
Looking back at him was an almost unrecognizably disfigured face. His nose and most of his skull had been pushed in. Several red cracks ran through the flesh of his face, exposing tissue and bone and in some places even brain. There was no blood, giving him a strange lifeless appearance as if he was made of layers of wax.
Bill turned and ran back to Helen's safe corner where they had spent most of the day before. There he knelt and wept. Helen knew her new friend wasn't a child but the image of a boy running off and crying reminded her to be more delicate. She decided to give him some time and space.
She kept an eye on him but when Bill didn't move from the corner the entire day she got very worried. Helen watched the kids leave. She watched the room yellow with the setting sun. The shadows crept in and expanded. So did the feeling of loneliness, the feeling that had been constant until Bill arrived. She knelt next to Bill and put a hand on his shoulder.
“Bill, its dark, why don't you come and sit with me for awhile?.”
“I want to see my wife and son. I don't want to be here anymore.”
“I know you do, come and sit with me, we'll talk about it.”
Helen tried to sound motherly; her efforts to coerce Bill from the corner were halted by a familiar sound. It was just as she said before, a sound like a flag flapping in the wind. First just one, then several. Bill lifted his head and listened.
“What is that?”
“Bill I want you to lay with me ok, like we talked about. Lay with me and close your eyes until I say it's ok.”
Bill did as he was told. He couldn't face her and laid with his back to her. Helen tried to get Bill to turn around and whispered it was ok. But time was short so instead of fighting about it she draped an arm around him and held him close. Helen then closed her eyes tight and reminded him to do the same.
The flapping became very loud and intense. It seemed to come from all around the outside of the building. Laying there in Helen’s embrace, Bill wondered how long this would go on for. He tried to think of his family which only seemed to make the dread worse. His terror reached its limits when in his thoughts the image of his own reflection appeared.
Suddenly the flapping stopped. Then complete silence, not even the ever present buzz of the outside overhang lights, penetrated the room. It stayed that way for several minutes until Bill heard a tiny creak. He opened his eyes and saw the source of the sound. Looking across the room under tables and chairs he could see the front door was wide open.
An idea fuelled by panic entered his thoughts. He could make it home before sunup. His family couldn't see his awful appearance; at least he could be there, not in this horrible prison.
“Do you think they're gone?” Bill whispered.
“I don't know, stay quiet.” Helen responded gently in his ear.
Before she could respond Bill rolled away and stood.
“I can't stay here, I have to go home. I have to try.”
“Don't Bill, please come back, please Bill.” She wanted him to stop with every ounce of her being but the fear was still too strong, it allowed her no more than to whisper the words.
A tear rolled down her cheek and bridged the micro gap between her face and the floor. She watched under the chairs as Bill’s little feet ran. They made it almost to the door before being lifted up out of sight. A loud screech rang out in the darkness. Helen closed her eyes tight and listened for what she knew would come next; Bill's screams. His screams lasted until just before dawn, then all was quiet again.
With dawn, the autumn sun rose and pushed the darkness back for another day. Kids arrived for school while the trees dropped the last of their leaves. All the while, not a child or parent could see the face of the lonely little girl staring at them from the classroom window.
A Fade to Blue
The last part, of the day on the water, was Shawn's favorite. The lowering sun turned the clouds above hues of pink and purple. The shore before him was alive with families and friends enjoying their newly started bonfires. The campfire smells mixed with the briny sea breeze. Shawn hoped for just one more wave, a long one to ride to shore as he gazed at the setting sun. Standing on top of the water was a feeling he never got used to and craved like a drug addict. At that moment, he felt more than human.
Shawn got his ride at that last part of the sunset. Most people do not notice but at some point of dusk it quits feeling like the day is fading and starts feeling like the night is darkening. As he was taking his last ride, he thought he saw two dark shapes pass below his board going towards shore. Shawn shook it off, thinking it was just the lingering light playing tricks.
On the beach, he looked back and took in the sights and sounds of the crashing waves. Rinsing himself and his board off, he changed out of his wetsuit. Once back in his t-shirt and shorts, he stashed his board in his pickup and walked towards the fire pit. At the pit was some of the usual gang he always hung out with. A few people were already there and he recognized all the faces except two.
John was there, he was always there. He was more or less the patriarch of the group, an older guy and a fixture at t
he beach. When the day on the water ended, John was there at the fire pit: BBQ started, cooler of beer ready, and beach chairs laid out around the fire.
It didn't surprise Shawn to see new faces at the nightly BBQ. John was quite an outgoing guy and if you indulged him in conversation out on the water, he was sure to invite you to the BBQ. What did surprise him was how strikingly beautiful the two new additions were. The two women looked to be in their early twenties, one blonde and one brunette. It was the brunette that really caught Shawn's eye. She was standing over by the folding table talking to John (more like listening to him). She glanced at Shawn, giving him a little smile. Shawn looked at the ground as he walked to the cooler; she made him feel like a shy school boy.
With beer in hand, he made his way to an empty chair by the fire. The couple in the group, Rod and Jess, were there. Shawn carried on conversation with Rod while trying to take unnoticed glimpses at the new girl. She was more than beautiful; she had a presence and by looking around, he could tell that everyone felt it. The other girl had it too but it didn't hold any power over Shawn like her friend. The other girl had taken a liking to Allen, the pretty boy of the group. Shawn knew Allen; he gave it five minutes before the two went for a walk.
His prediction came true about five minutes later. Allen and the girl walked far enough that no one noticed the sound of flesh being torn from his bones as she fed.
Shawn sat back at the fire. He had had enough beer to not notice he was staring at the beautiful woman.
"Want to go for a walk on the beach?" She was talking to him; it took a minute for her voice to register.
Shawn stood up and took her hand. They walked down to the water, he rambled, trying to make conversation and she smiled as if to ease his tension. When they were just out of reach of the rescinding tide, she looked past Shawn at the glow of the fire.
“Let's go this way.” She whispered.
She led him to a private spot between two dunes. He went to speak again and she shushed him with a kiss. Shawn was a little worried someone might walk by, but not enough to stop shedding clothes as they dropped to the ground.
He built towards orgasm, it occurred to him he hadn't even thought about using the condom in his wallet. Reaching the point of no return, he tried to pullout to finish. But she clamped down on him, her hands and thighs gripped him in an iron embrace. He went with it; she seemed to be building to climax too. He couldn't hold it any longer, releasing inside her. She began to quiver and moan, bending down she kissed him passionately. While still holding and kissing him, her quivering built to climax; when with mouths locked, she spewed larva down his throat. Unable to breathe, he swallowed the brood.
She let him go, he laid there paralyzed.
She whispered in his ear, “Your body will change and you will be able to move but you must get to the water or you will die."
A tear rolled down Shawn's face. She brushed his cheek softly and said, “You should be happy. You're a father now, come to the water and follow my call." She then backed into the darkness towards the crashing tide.
Shawn learned two things about mermaids that night. One: the males are chosen, and two: like seahorses the males carry the young. Later he would find out what they eat.
Expansion
I was renovating my flat. It's in an old building, built in 1907. Not much bigger then a studio, so space was limited. The plan was to knock out the wall going to the closet to open up the room. Considering myself pretty handy, I decided to do it myself. Having the tarps down and everything covered, I took a swing with the sledgehammer. It made a hole a little smaller then my head. When I pulled the hammer out I knew something was odd. The wall couldn't have been more than a foot thick. In fact, standing in front of the hole, I was able to reach around the closet door frame. I couldn't feel any dents on the other side. Looking into the hole I saw just blackness, no studs or interior wall.
After five more swings, the hole was the size of a normal window. But I still only saw blackness, I couldn't believe my eyes. Dropping the hammer, I walked to the hole. Reaching in, I expected to feel wood or drywall but felt nothing. I leaned in, nothing but blackness and I heard no sounds. When I yelled, “hey,” there was no echo returned. Leaning in further, I lost my balance. I tried to reach down and brace against the wall I was leaning against but it wasn't there.
Falling twenty or so feet down through the blackness, I landed in a shallow pool. Something squirmed and brushed against my skin. Panicked, I waded out of it as fast as I could. Out of the pool, the floor felt like damp concrete. The only light I could see was coming from where I had fallen from, a single window of light floating in the air. It illuminated nothing and was well out of my reach.
It's been weeks now since I lost sight of that light. I spend my days looking for a way out, walking in blindness for miles. I have found no structures, just a vast flat landscape dotted with puddles. The puddle water is potable and most puddles contain leeches. It's these critters that I sustain myself on. Not being able to see them, I presume they must resemble a fist size caterpillar. I often wonder if I will suffer any ill effects from eating them or from their constant nips. I don't sleep much but when I do, I sometimes find them on me. One will have crawled up a pants leg or be on my arm, feeding.
The leeches and cold hard ground are not the only reason I don't sleep much. There's something else in here with me. Besides the sound of my footsteps, I have heard breathing that wasn't mine. It sounds like a large animal sniffing out food. My only hiding places are in the larger pools with the leeches. I need to find a way out soon. It's been getting close lately: I have come to believe that it's looking for me.
Redlands
Victor was headed home for a short, but well deserved break. Two Marines dressed in their blues stood in front of him on the escalator. Victor didn't wear a uniform; among other things, anonymity was part of his job.
A crowd was waiting at the bottom of the stairs, holding up welcome home signs. They broke into applause when the two men came into view. At the bottom of the escalator, Victor side stepped out from behind the men, making his way around the soldier's welcoming committee. A hum caught his ear when he was far enough away from the crowd. He pulled his phone out while stepping over to a window to answer it.
“Hey cuz.” It was Angie. Victor smiled, her voice sounded more like home than his own Mom's.
“Hey Angel, I just stepped off the plane, chica. I should be home in an hour. Are you going to come by? I'd love to see ya.”
“Of course, you're like my big brother. I'll be there.” They exchanged pleasantries then Angie awkwardly cut Victor off, “Listen Victor, I need to talk to you about Ricky.”
“What's up with Ricky, is he ok?” Victor's voice lost some of its enthusiasm.
“I knew it; I knew your Mom hadn't said anything to you. Your Mom has been acting like there's nothing wrong.”
“Angie. What's going on with my brother?” Victor barked, stopping his cousin's rambling.
“He's been hanging out with a real bad crowd, going out all night and sleeping all day. He hasn't been home in a few days.”
“Who's he hanging out with, do I know them?”
“Vic I know that tone, I don't think you can fix this. He doesn't look like himself anymore, he's sick.”
“Is it drugs? You think after Dad he would have more sense.”
“Your Mom won't admit it but I think...” Angie's voice drifted then became confident, “Victor, I think he's a vampire.”
“What, Ricky? Listen we'll talk about this when I get home.”
“Ok Vic.”
The only SUV the car rental had was an Escalade, which didn't fit with keeping a low profile. So he took the sedan. It was an hour and a half ride back home. The trip should have been passed thinking about seeing everyone or making plans to go to Tony's place for a chili dog. But instead, Victor's thoughts were on his brother. If someone had told him his brother was a vampire five years ago he would have laughed. But that
was before the epidemic started.
Three years prior, the US government had acknowledged the outbreak. All he knew was what he saw on the news. Vampires were real; the government was treating it like a disease. Except, instead of hospital quarantine, if they thought you were a vampire a special unit of the CDC would show up and take you away and no one would see you again. Looking out at the dust and warehouses he passed on the freeway, Victor thought to himself, this wasn't the blue-skied beach laden California people dreamt about, but it was his home. “Damn it Ricky, what did you get yourself into?” He whispered to himself.
Pulling down his Mom's street he thought about how he used to believe it was a tough area to grow up. That was before he got out into the world; before he saw where nightmares existed. Now he knew how good he had it and was grateful.
Victor parked on the street and grabbed his bag. A little waist high fence ran in front of his Mom's yard. It was locked so he jumped it. No one looked home in the little blue stucco house. After knocking on the door, there was a long silence, and then he heard the chain and deadbolt being unlatched. A hesitant little woman opened the door. His Mom looked worried, making her face seem older than he remembered. Her eyes got big and the grimace turned into a smile when she made out who it was.
“Mijo!” she yelled, wrapping her arms around Victor.
“Hey Mom.”
“Oh it's so good to have you here. Come on inside, baby.”
He dropped his bag in the entrance and followed her to the kitchen. He wasn't surprised the house hadn't changed in the slightest. They got caught up as she sat him at the kitchen table and dug into the fridge. Before he could refuse, he had a veritable feast laid out before him. Victor was at the peak of strength and fitness for a man his height but that didn't stop his Mom from jokingly asking if the military fed him.
