by Mike Duke
It took Carl a few seconds to register what he had done.
“Baby, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I’m just hurting and I reacted like an asshole. I’m sorry. Ok?”
They held eyes till Jessica believed he was serious, and softened.
“I forgive you, baby,” she said. “Do you want me to get something to bandage that with, and some triple-antibiotic ointment with the pain reliever in it?”
“Yes, please,” he replied, “and about 5 extra strength acetaminophen.”
He coughed, and felt his lungs tighten, slightly. Carl knew he couldn’t risk having a full-on attack right now. He retrieved the inhaler from his pocket, and took a long hit off of it. Then he stood and walked back over to the large hole in the wall, closely inspecting the portion he needed to hold out of the way for the boys, as he pulled it back and used the sledgehammer to keep it from springing back to cover the hole.
Jessica returned and bandaged his arm up, wrapping everything from elbow to wrist with gauze, covering all the smaller scratches, as well as, the nastier bite marks. Carl retrieved the glove, and slid it back on his left hand.
“OK fellas. Spray hairspray all over them along the bottom of the water heater first. Then hose the whole area with fire. Hopefully, it will burn them good, while not immediately catching the wood on fire so quickly, I hope. Jess, stand ready with that fire extinguisher.”
Derek took point, and coated the area with hairspray, watching the insects start to writhe around at the unfamiliar chemical. Then he flicked the lighter, and let loose hell on the centipedes. The flames engulfed them, entirely. Carl imagined he heard little screeches, but he didn’t think it was likely he could have heard them over the music. Next, came the popping noises as the fire cooked them, and their exoskeletons crackled. Their bodies flailed all about, the mothers trying to protect their cooking young, who died first. A few of the males came crawling out of the hole, burning like pieces of kindling soaked in kerosene. They ran for some distance, then began curling and contorting as they finally felt the full effect of the flames. The boys stomped them dead, putting out the flames simultaneously as well.
Carl let the fire burn for some time, monitoring it to make sure it wasn’t getting beyond their ability to put out, but making sure it burned long enough to kill these gargantuan insects, that had no place in this concrete jungle, where he lived; of that he was sure.
“Alright Jess, let it rip.”
Jessica stepped up, and sprayed the interior of the hole thoroughly. She waited for the white powder to settle then inspected it closely, determining that the fire was definitely out. She started to back up, then stepped forward again, spraying a little more, just for good measure.
Carl wrapped a T-shirt around his face, to prevent him from breathing in the fire extinguisher powder.
“Light, Danny,” he called and Danny stepped up, handing the flashlight to Carl, again. A lengthy inspection satisfied Carl that they had gotten everything he could see.
“Alright. Moving on,” Carl declared, picking up the hammer, and shifting to another area of wall.
Over the next couple of hours, he made smaller holes every few feet, and then looked inside to see if there were any others. They spotted a few lone males scurrying around, but no more females with eggs or babies. Derek got the bright idea to use a spaghetti spoon to reach in, and drag the lone ones out, into the open. They captured three more, and burned the rest on the linoleum floor, melting it in multiple places.
By the end, Jessica and the boys were all hacking from the fire extinguisher powder and decided to wrap T-shirts around their mouths to filter it out, just like Carl had done, earlier. They went back, and took a second look around the water heater. Finding nothing, Carl felt fairly happy with himself and his plan. In the next few days, he would contact a friend who could help him with repairing the drywall, thereby keeping it off the landlord’s radar.
Derek looked at Carl, with a smirk on his face.
“What?” Carl asked.
“Just thought of something. Made me laugh.”
Carl gave him a look that said ‘spit it out, I know you’re about to be a smartass’. Derek’s smirk turned into a wicked grin.
“You know, you can totally expect to see roaches now, right?”
Carl dropped his head, and just shook it back and forth, mumbling curses beneath his breath.
*****
That night, Carl and Jessica lit the one lemon ‘Yankee Candle’ they owned, and set it in their bedroom to help mask all the nasty burnt wood and fire extinguisher chemical smells filling the apartment. Carl showered, Jessica slipping in to join him. They both breathed huge sighs of relief at finally being done with this nightmare, first hugging each other for a long time, as the hot water burned away the disgust they felt. After some time, they soaped one another down, enjoying the feel of each other’s flesh.
Once out, they toweled off and Jessica dressed Carl’s wound more thoroughly this time, cleansing everything with hydrogen peroxide before applying ointment. She then placed gauze pads over the deep bit marks and wrapped his whole arm with gauze and taped it down.
At last, all ready for bed, they crawled under the covers, unconsciously leaving the lights on as they snuggled up to one another, and began kissing passionately. Jessica moved as if she was going to go down on Carl, but he checked her softly, his hand between her breasts, slowly pressing her to lay back and let him, instead. Pulling the sheet over his head, he disappeared, showering her abdomen with butterfly kisses as he descended to caress the gates of paradise with his mouth. He kissed her lightly, parting her lips to drink deep the intoxicating wine of her love.
Jessica groaned softly and made other soothing sounds of pleasure that dripped like a honey potion in Carl’s ears, but soon grabbed his head and pulled upward.
“I want you inside me…now,” she moaned and kissed him deeply, as he entered her and began slowly cycling his hips.
Carl made sure the sensations built ever higher for Jessica, enjoying every inch of friction as he moved in and out, progressively going deeper with each maddeningly controlled stroke. It drove her crazy when he moved slowly like that. She loved it, but eventually it caused her to desperately demand he give it to her with some authority and force, as she even now, commanded him.
“Harder! Harder!” she said breathlessly, hips squirming beneath him, as he obliged.
Three thrusts later, he felt a sharp pain, right on the head of his penis. It caused him to pause unexpectedly. Jessica kicked his glutes with her feet, as if spurring a horse on to run.
“Don’t stop! Don’t stop! I’m so close!”
Carl, despite the pain, continued, sacrificing his comfort to bring her to climax.
Another stabbing pain, struck, and another, but he didn’t stop. Jessica’s whole body went rigid and she slowly raked the nails of both hands from spine to ribcage, leaving a trail of welling blood. If he had been in the moment, and not already in pain, Carl would have loved it, he thought, but, as it was, it just added to discomfort he was already experiencing. As soon as Jessica shuddered and relaxed, he quickly pulled out, the pain on the head of his dick now in multiple places and not letting up.
He sat back on his haunches, pulling free of Jessica’s arms and feet that were trying to keep him inside her. Then, he tossed the sheet back, so he could get a clear look at his member.
“What’s wrong, baby?” she asked, sulking a little. But then, she saw his face and knew something was seriously wrong, and her stomach sank, like a ship standing on end, before sliding down into the murky depths beneath.
To his credit, Carl didn’t freak out, and scramble about with no sense of purpose. Instead, despite his face indicating an absolutely terrific disgust, he sat still, and pulled the small, milky white baby centipedes off the head of his cock, one at a time, mashing their soft bodies in between thumb and forefinger, before smearing them across the sheet to clear their filth off his hands. A total of three had attached th
emselves to him, whether by legs or bite he did not know. He only knew it hurt.
Jessica stared at him, confused, and, mercifully unable to connect the dots, at first. But when it finally hit her, she clawed violently at the manicured patch of hair above her vagina, digging toward the opening to pull her lips back, arching her hips up desperately like some whore pretending she must have the man who has paid her for a performance, her head straining, chin to chest, in an attempt to give the eyes a better line of sight.
Right then, both Jessica and Carl observed a sight that would be burned into their minds for the rest of their lives.
“Baby centipedes are crawling out of my wife’s pussy,” was all Carl could think as he watched them exit her vagina and spread out in various directions; scurrying down the inside of her thighs, up into the hair covering her pubic bone, and down onto the bed.
Jessica may as well have been an animal with its tail on fire at that moment.
She flip-flopped off the bed, slapping at her groin and clawing her thighs, screeching some inhuman noises the whole time. Carl could only compare her wretched uproar to that of abused animals in fits of absolute fear, who, when approached, cry out, over and over, pitiful and helpless.
Jessica was just like that, right up until Carl held her down, and removed every one of those little bastards he could find from her body.
Then he took her to the ER. Fuck the bill.
*****
Two days later.
Carl had called in the favor from Derek, or at least he had tried. Derek refused to charge Carl, instead volunteering the resources and aid. They wore gloves and masks completely covering their faces when they broke into the run-down flat. Derek was damn-near a master lock-picker at age twelve or thirteen, Carl still wasn’t sure.
Nobody saw or heard them, except, perhaps, the crack addicts, who were high as a kite and not paying any attention, at all. They slipped through the kitchen and down the hall to the bedroom. Carl was carrying a backpack and holding a cloth he had just soaked with ether, while Derek held some type of container.
The man on the bed snored loudly, then gasped as the air was forced from his lungs by Carl plopping down on his chest. He covered the man’s mouth and nose with the cloth immediately. The man tried to struggle, but his obese and muscularly weak frame couldn’t accomplish much before the ether won the day.
They moved quickly, removing long, heavy duty cargo straps from the backpack and proceeding to loop them over and under the bed, then ratchet them down tightly, restraining the man across the shoulders, waist, upper thighs and knees. Once done, Carl took a pocket knife to the man’s underwear, the only thing he was wearing, and ripped them off, exposing his genitals. Carl proceeded to nick the man’s skin with the blade across the chest, inner thighs and even his flaccid penis.
Derek followed behind Carl, dropping a giant centipede on each location. They wasted no time, immediately biting into the bleeding flesh with their venomous pincers before beginning to chew their way inside.
Carl watched the one going to work on the man’s shriveling member and remembered the pictures he had seen online of a fourteen inch long giant centipede that ate its way into the mouth of a snake almost twice its size…then devoured it from the inside out, exiting somewhere near the tail.
Carl looked away, after several seconds, then reached in the backpack for one last thing - an item used to keep a patient’s mouth open during dental surgery. He pried the man’s mouth open and shoved it into place, observing the large open hole now.
“A fucking tunnel of love,” Carl thought, as he picked the last giant centipede up with the forceps, himself, and lowered it, letting it smell the man’s fetid breath and feel the plastic edge of the device with its most front legs. It began to pull, its head descending into the warm, dark pit below. Carl slowly let go, watching the legs rise and fall in unison as the creature crawled into the landlord’s mouth and surely began its path down the throat.
The man startled awake, trying to cough reflexively as his eyelids flew wide open, double chin quivering as his eyeballs strained to look in his own mouth. Carl grinned with a sense of immense personal satisfaction as he stuffed a rag down inside the device hole to muffle any screams and make sure the giant centipede couldn’t crawl out.
“At least not through that hole, anyway,” he told himself, “but it’ll make a way out when it’s ready.” The thought comforted Carl, scratching his vengeful desires behind the ears. His right leg damn near bounced in delight.
“Perfect,” he said to Derek, a dark, menacing smile unseen beneath the mask. “Warm, dark places are their favorite.”
Carl looked at where the other centipedes were clinging to the man’s body, little powerful jaws cutting through his flesh, over and over again. It was the closest thing to justice he could imagine.
“Let’s go,” he said to Derek.
They listened to the muffled gags and gurgling cries as they walked out the way they came in, making sure no one saw a thing.
“That’s what you get for not hiring an exterminator and putting my wife through hell, you greedy, useless bastard,” Carl thought to himself.
They stayed to the shadows and moved in silence, eventually taking the masks off. They’d burn them tomorrow along with the gloves. The apartment complex came into sight, and it was Carl who spoke first.
“Thank you so much, Derek. I know you wanted to keep those things.”
“I’ve still got one, Mr. C. And one’s all I need to fight against other bugs and stuff. I just wish I could get a look at that guy’s body when they’re done. Curious how much of him they’ll eat before he gets found.”
“You worry me, sometimes, Derek,” Carl said flatly, cutting his eyes to give him a wink. “But I still think you’re a good kid. Good to me and Jessica, that’s for damn sure.”
He patted Derek on the shoulders as they entered the building, then they parted ways, sharing a bond that no distance could ever break, now.
The End
Afterward
Hi folks! If you have bought and read this little novella I sing thee praises and extend my heartfelt gratitude unto you for taking a chance on me, a still budding Indie author. And now that you’re done I suppose I’ll tell you exactly what motivated me to write this story and what I really wanted to achieve.
As far as the driving impetus that made this story happen, over the last year or so, being involved in multiple horror groups for both movies and novels, and following threads of various authors a common theme that I hear people express is “Nothing really scares me anymore,” “I can’t find anything that scares me, I wish I could,” or “I guess I’m just too desensitized, nothing bothers me.”
Now, this annoys me on one hand, while on the other hand I do understand the process of desensitization. If someone is watching and reading loads of extreme horror with all kinds of viscera on display and sick bastards doing ever more perverse and heinous acts to other people, after a while one will become less affected by this type of thing.
At the same time, I think much of people’s inability to be scared is that they have lost their ability to put themselves in the place of the characters that are suffering. They remain a spectator the entire time. The possibility that this could be them doesn’t enter their mind, and so, there’s never any real perceived threat to get under their skin, dig in their brain and linger on after the words or pictures have finished.
This is no good. Horror, whether visual or written media, should never be a spectator sport. Horror should be an immersive, consuming force of psychological nature, engaging primal fears in reflexive ways we are helpless to stop. Or, to use an old fantasy paradigm - the reader or viewer of horror should be “spellbound.”
In writing ‘Warm, Dark Places are Best’ I strived to make it as experiential and plausible as possible. I wanted you to feel like this could be you, to hopefully not give you a choice whether or not to be a spectator. I aimed to make Carl and Jessica’s victimization v
ibrant and their emotions raw, and thereby make you feel like they were you. Also, insects, in general, I realized, are part of most human beings inbred fears, and offer a straight shot to those unguarded, almost childlike, areas of the heart and mind that are still highly susceptible to being terrified more easily. But, beyond that, the idea of having most insects on our skin or in our hair much less inside of us in the most vulnerable of places is the epitome of the horrific.
And not only are centipedes one of the most terrifying, brutal and ugly insects in the world, but the bastards are almost everywhere. Giant centipedes may only be native to jungles but internet shopping enables people to have them shipped right to their residences. So they can, in fact, potentially be anywhere as well.
Now, as to my goal in writing this story. Obviously, from reading what I wrote above, I’m sure you can deduce that I wanted to scare and creep the shit out of you and hopefully make the “nothing scares me” people cringe and feel their skin crawl. And that is correct. But it went further. I specifically, at some point in this story (or possibly multiple places, if you’re like some of my beta readers) wanted to make you throw (or sit) down whatever you were reading on and jump up and walk around cussing. Cussing me and the visual razor cuts my words just made in your brain that will certainly leave scars for life...whenever they manage to heal.
I wanted you in shock, full of disbelief at the images I had just rudely inserted into your mind; any sense of security in your daily life replaced with a dreadful fear that, for days, or even weeks, after, will make your skin feel as if it's doing some maggot infested dance, causing you to reflexively slap your body in various locations whenever clothing, or even your own hair, brushes up against you. Why? Because your brain will be swearing on a stack of bibles (in a panicked mental shriek) that it’s a fucking centipede!!!
