Individually Wrapped Horrors

by Eric Joel Kleinschmidt, Sr.

  I think between Sarah leaving me and the decline in tail I was getting through this time period led up to what happened in a real and urgent way. Every morning before work, the routine ensued. Death metal on the cd player to help me wake up, drop a quarter in and remember that special thing Sarah used to do with her tongue bar or Mom in the shower or twelve million other things, off to the races, then downstairs for breakfast and vitamins. Mom’s little notes before work were such a pick-me-up to my self-esteem through this period. Sometimes little hearts or happy faces, sometimes just terms of endearment. She always thought of me last before turning in so I would think of her first before heading out the door. Life was returning to a state of bliss that I never wanted to end. But, all good things… right?

  This one morning I did my whole routine upstairs then headed down to the kitchen. Well, not the whole routine. Nothing good on spank-o-vision (aka: internet porn), the jukebox was down for repairs and basically… I just wasn’t feelin’ it. I had that deflated feeling again which ultimately (looking back now) caused everything else that followed. To begin with, I came downstairs and saw that the night before, not only had Mom forgotten to write me a note but had also erased the note from yesterday. Not a great start, I must admit. That meant that she remembered to erase, just not to write a new one. Bummer. I saw my vitamins on the counter and in disgust I threw them down the garbage disposal. “Fuck you, vitamins,” I muttered. I drank a glass of juice and headed off to the worst Friday at work ever! As a side note, I must mention that it was also raining cats and dogs outside and I got drenched just running out to my shitbox old Honda. Well why not? Just why the fuck not? It always rains on Friday (some great or other old poet once said) and it was sure proving that theory correct this dreary morning. Hell of a start.

  I’ll sum up work in brief detail. My mind was not in line with my body. I don’t know what I’m trying to say here. I just couldn’t focus, I was having anxiety attacks and just feeling like my skin was crawling. I felt like everyone was out to get me that day. Someone went in to the fridge in the lunchroom and stole my roast beef and pepper jack sandwich I bought for lunch that day. Just a shit day, like the gods of shit days were having a drinking contest that every time something happened bad to me, they had to do a shot. The final straw came when my boss approached me and said that I had fucked up a pallet of product. Ran a fork through the gaylord or some such bullshit. I didn’t know if I had but that little voice in everyone’s head spoke up in mine: “I didn’t do shit! If someone else came behind me and fucked it up, that’s not my problem. I put it up on the rack in one piece. So why don’t you get the fuck out of my face?” So, he did. And four minutes later, I did. I was escorted off the premises. In the pounding rain, I sloshed home, hydroplaning all the way. Oh, but not before I stopped and got the biggest bottle of Jack I have ever seen.

  Mom came in a bit later, home from her aerobics class, and asked why I was home so early. Told her what happened. She did that poor boy pity look she gives me when things don’t go my way and brought my hanging head down to rest on her ample bosom. I could feel her warmth and the soft thump thump of her heart. My breathing steadied a bit and she told me it was going to be all right. She said that we were fine with money right now. Which was more than true. She had plenty in the bank with more coming in from the sperm donor every month. I had a nice little nest egg set back from the not-finding a place of my own. I could coast, what was I doing wallowing in self-pity? She told me in a kind and gentle voice to ease back on the Jack and just glide for the rest of the night and she’d be back later to check up on me. I said I would and I meant it. She left a half hour or so later, but I was already passed out on the couch.

  Dark dreams came that night. I saw shadows that had things growing in them. Dark figures that danced and wavered just outside of my field of vision. I saw my hands, cracked and bleeding, like I had been digging through concrete with them. I was cold and alone, voices—high pitched and cackling—whispering horrible things about people I knew. Things that had happened to them. I saw my house from the outside and it was covered—infested—with large destructive beetles, eating and breaking everything they came into contact with. The entire neighborhood we lived in was crawling with death and I stood cracked and bleeding in the center of it all. I ran, I ran as fast as I could and as far away as I could… but it was dream running. I ran slower and slower and always ended up right where I began. Then, I stopped and fell to my knees. When I looked up, my mom was standing over me. She whisper-croaked, “The blue demons are upon us. All we have is lost. Wake up…” the last word being drawn out in a long hissing croak as I fully came awake from the nightmare in a sheer fit of terror. I was soaked in what I only hope was sweat and clutching madly at the sheets. My mom sprung up from her sleep and wrapped arms around me shaking gently crying: “Honey, baby, it’s OK, it was just a nightmare. Honey, you’re OK now. Shh, momma’s here, baby. It’s OK.” She was holding me to her breast and stroking my hair with a full case of the all-over body shivers. I had officially freaked her the fuck out! I began to calm slowly as my eyes began to make out silhouettes in the dark. I could make out a dresser and a flat screen TV and her own beautiful shapely figure in a whisper-thin nightie. We were beneath the sheets together and I was in her room. What…the…fuck? It was all that I could think. All that kept flashing in my mind. She whispered: “It’s OK, honey, you were passed out on the couch and I knew you were upset. I didn’t think you should be alone so I helped you in here so you could sleep by momma. You’re OK now. No more bad dreams.” She was still stroking my hair and breathing easier now that I was, as I thought Yeah, no more bad dreams. No more bad dreams and no more goddamned Jack Daniels either!

  The next morning, as to be expected, hangover central! Now I remembered why I swore off the Jack in the first place. Tasted great on the way down, not so much the next morning on the return trip up. I ran to the bathroom and made fast friends with the toilet bowl. It accepted me willingly and without judgment. I looked out into the bedroom but Mom was already up and out of the room. I didn’t hear anything downstairs and a look at the clock answered why. 11:43 a.m. Holy shit! I slept half the day away! I…I…have nowhere to be and no one to be there with, I slowly reasoned, so what the hell? I went to my room, slid out of all my yesterday clothes, got into a nice hot shower, toweled off and after sliding into a clean pair of boxers, went back to sleep—in my own bed. I kept thinking about how nice Mom felt, lying there in her embrace. Not the whole freaking out shaking violently part, but the rest was beyond nice. Then a new fear hit me. I need to stop thinking like this. What we have here is a really fucking cool thing! Us living together, with no real judgment or expectations of each other! The ideal roommate situation if ever there was one. If she ever knew I harbored any kind of sexual desire toward her, it would fuck up everything. Of course, no one was home and no one would be home for several hours yet. I could feel a stirring and—though I had never done anything like this before—I knew only one thing would get me off and help me off to the sleep my body desperately needed. So, this part is going to sound really bad, but here goes. I snuck into her room and lifted a pair of her used panties out of the laundry hamper. Whew! I feel better having gotten that out there. The rest can come more easily now. I was fully sniffing and inhaling her womanly aroma in my room when I caught my reflection in the mirror and thought I have become a sexual deviant. I am definitely going to hell now! And then, from completely out of nowhere, I thought That is so fucking metal! Sleep never felt so wonderful!

  That evening was Saturday and Mom was home from “the shop” and in the kitchen grabbing a bite. She was listening to her iPod and sort of dancing around the kitchen as she ate a sandwich and straightened up the place. She didn’t hear me come in. I sat at the table and looked at the luscious curves of her tight ass in the workout shorts she had on. The tee shirt she had on just said Bad Grrl but I could see by the points of pure brilliance that there was no bra on underneath. I felt that
old familiar stirring under the table. Guess I had better just sit this one out. She stopped dancing long enough to get a small glass of orange juice and in the middle of a drink, she turned and saw me. The glass never had a chance! It slipped right through her fingers and exploded on the tiled floor. She jumped a bit from all the factors of the event and I sprung up from my chair, now unmindful of my little problem. I came over and knelt beside her as she gasped “Oh my god, honey, you scared the shit out of me! Don’t ever do that again!”

  Picking up the splintered pieces, I smiled and chuckled, “OK, Mom, sorry. How was your day?” She grabbed a towel, beginning to tell me about her day, but cut off mid-sentence when I stood up to throw the shards away. So, I like a draft at the local bar every now and then, not down below when talking to my mom. The first thing she noticed was that I was still in my boxers. Whoops! The second thing she noticed was that the barn door had been left open and the somewhat large and veiny 9-inch horse had been let out! I quickly spun around with a fire burning in my face and deposited the shards on the table. “I am so sorry, Mom! I forgot!” I said remedying the situation.

  She blushed a bit that time herself saying “It’s OK, honey, I’ve seen you before. I am your mother.” But she didn’t sound very convincing, I think not even to herself, because she put down the towel and hurried past me to the living room. Ah, shit, I thought. Worse things have happened, I guess. I went up to my room and got dressed. A stained and faded old tee shirt of Anthrax and one grey pair of sweats later, I was back in the living room with my feet propped up on the coffee table. Mom was up in her room getting ready for the night out so I turned on the TV and got Gilligan’s Island. It was background noise as I replayed what had just happened. THAT was definitely going in the jukebox. I should have been utterly and irrevocably disgusted with myself for these persistent devious feelings toward my mom…I just wasn’t.

  She came trotting back down the stairs with a playful smile and a bounce in her step as if nothing out of the ordinary had not just happened. As if my dick had not just magically popped out in front of her like a jack in the box and looked her in the eye! Life is such an unpredictable little imp. She came in and sat down to put on her cute powder blue sneakers saying, “What are your plans for the evening?” I flipped around through the channels nonchalantly responding with “I don’t know, probably just rent a flick and kick back in the old bachelor pad. Maybe grab a pizza while I’m out. Nothing big. Where are you off to this evening, young lady?” She smiled coyly. It always gave her such a buzz when I referred to her as “young lady.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. One of the usual hotspots, I guess. Meet up with Mr. Right Now and bring him home and make him a husband for the night.” She stood up. She was gorgeous! Light blue blouse fitting to all the sumptuous curves this woman had to offer, gold necklace with a heart locket, and—because she was still part country girl and damned well wanted to be—tight fittin’ jeans. She ran her hands down her, the sides of her blouse pulling it even tighter to her curvaceous body, asking: “Do I look OK in this?” She always asked me before going out if I was home and alone because she knew I’d tell her if I didn’t like a particular article of clothes and—I think—because she liked to tease me a little. I know that’s a huge deduction on my part based solely on my own insane incestuous desires, but yeah… I think she liked to tease me a little. She leaned down in front of me, revealing that breathtaking cleavage and just the top border of a very lacy pink bra.

  “You look absolutely stunning, Mom,” I said truthfully.

  She kissed me ever so slightly on the corner of the mouth and whispered hot and suggestively in my ear: “Don’t wait up.” She stood up, straightened out her blouse for the umpteenth time and headed to the kitchen. Grabbing her pocket book and keys, she hollered, “Love you!” and I heard the kitchen door open, then close. Silence, broken only by her SUV starting up then quietly backing out of the driveway. Home alone! Oh my god, the jukebox is loaded and ready to go, the bank is full and I got a pocketful of quarters! Time to make the first of many withdrawals this evening! I got to work.

  I found myself outside in the yard walking around to the rear of the house when I happened to notice the sky darkening. More rain? God, can you give it a rest? I wound up the garden hose that I was, for some reason or the other, holding in my hand. I stopped and looked around. What the fuck am I even doing out here? I was in the living room spanking it after Mom left and—A huge crack of lightning split the night open! The wind began to pick up in fierce gales as the sleet—not rain—the sleet began to pelt me violently! I dropped the hose and turned to run to the house. A shimmering figure stood between me and the front door. It growled in a low tone, gurgling and retching out what I began to understand were syllables. “I’m almost here,” it hissed, “I’m going to take away everything you have ever loved.” It began to grow larger. A huge beast with two heads and four arms, outlined in a pale almost non-visible blue tint. “I am everything you have ever feared and your world is mine for the taking!” Blood began to spew from its two mouths in fountains. Black vile shit began to pool on the ground at its…hooves? Are those hooves? What the fuck? Man, wake up now! Time to fucking wake up! “Honey…baby… it’s coming for us.” Mom’s voice was echoing through the cacophony. “It’s going to get us and we’ll never see each other again. Help momma, honey baby!” I turned to look in the direction her voice was coming from. I saw a second…thing. This was very clearly my mother and I but we were fused together as one larger monstrosity. Joined in blood and flesh and groin and writhing in each other’s embrace. Fluids of all type were trickling down beneath the thing as the two familiar faces kissed and sucked each other’s forked and throbbing tongues. The first demonic thing leapt at the second and began to rip it apart. Pulling limbs from body, tearing tongues from mouths, viciously ripping at genitalia with enormous gnashing teeth until a steaming pile of entrails and blood and shit fell to the earth beneath it and the demonic figure of mother and son fell lifeless in pieces to the cold earth and lay still. “You will lose everything you love, boy! I am almost here!” The screams of me coming awake could be heard up and down the block, I was later told.

  Our neighborhood is a cul-de-sac and an unfinished one at that. We live in a modest but very nice two-story down at the middle of the circle. The lot to the west of our house (out my bedroom window) is a half-built ranch style that the funding fell through on or some shit like that. It was little more than half-finished when the carpenters went home one day and have yet to return. The lot to the other side of us is still pretty much prairie land. Long tall overgrown land that makes for a nice barrier between us and the next house over. The rest of the lots on our street are mostly filled but we keep to ourselves down at the end, in our little slice of heaven. Mom says hi to people when she goes out jogging of course and every now and then I give a wave or stop and shoot the shit with some of our neighbors but mostly it’s just her and I. Like the old country song says: “She and I live in our own little world.” Of course, I believe that song is about a guy and his wife. But, what do I know? I’m a metalhead, not a boot scooter!

  A few comments were passed to Mom about the scream that night when she went jogging but nothing much came of it. I told her I had a Jason flick on and I had the volume up just a little too high. When neighbors saw me the next day driving past, they pretty much knew no one had been slaughtered in our house and just let the whole thing go. But, sitting on that couch that night, sweat soaked and shaking like a leaf on a tree… I wondered if everything was all right. What the hell were these dreams I was having? Bad flashbacks from the couple of times I dropped acid? No, that’s stupid. Whatever was going on, it had to stop. I had made up my mind to consult with my doctor about a sleep aid and maybe a reference to a dream…doctor…guy. I didn’t know what you called them. But that was for Monday. For now, it was Saturday night, right? I consulted my cell phone. Yup, still Saturday night… just. Nearly midnight. Mom will be home soon and the thumping
moaning squeaking from her bedroom was going to fuck with my already waste of a Saturday night. I decided to get a quick shower then head for my room. Music would solve everything. The dreams. The lost job. The anxiety attacks. The mom lust. Everything. Fucking everything. I got up and went to the kitchen for a quick drink. I noticed that the dry erase board had a message on it. “Honey, have you been taking your vitamins? Momma wants a big strong healthy baby boy! Love you!” Two little hearts intertwined were beneath this message. Nice, mom. I grabbed the vitamins and thought I am a big strong healthy baby boy and into the garbage disposal they went without so much as a groan or complaint. I drank milk straight from the jug and took the stairs going up two at a time.

  Fresh from the absolute hottest shower I have ever taken in my life, I was in my sweats and a new tee shirt, this one showing a large Viking holding up a ridiculously badass axe with the band logo for Amon Amarth on it. Hell of a titan of a band if I do say so myself. I ran a brush through my shoulder length brown hair and heard a car door close. I listened without taking a breath. Moments passed by and I heard the kitchen door open, then close. Hmm, I thought, no second car door. Maybe it was a strike out night. Mom might be up for some hang out time if so. I re-thought what I had just said in my mind, then replayed the events in the kitchen with the orange juice and wished I hadn’t have thought of it that way. Thinking those things about Mom was fine as long as she wasn’t around to see the effects it had on me. I actually was beginning to dig the shit out of the effects it was having on me. So, I had to sacrifice an occasional pair of her sexy panties to the god of lustful masturbation from time to time. So, sue me! I got myself together, ran a palm down my front to make sure nothing was at attention, then I bounded down the stairs to greet Mom and hopefully no house guest. At the bottom of the stairs, Mom was a wreck. She was in tears, a bit muddy and limping slightly. All thoughts of anything sexual quickly exited my head as new thoughts of a fight, an accident or a rape flooded in. Then, a barely audible voice whispered from my memory: “You will lose everything you love, boy. I am almost here.” I ran to Mom and helped her to the sofa.