The gym doors opened into three glossy, white painted halls with doors spaced evenly across them. Papers scattered carelessly across the floor and trophy case lit muted white to his left. The awards were all 15 years old. The white light was just bright enough to give him a faint outline of the space around him. Harvey lurked into the middle hall, guided by the red glow somewhere at the middle of the hall.
The hall branched off. A exit sign shone cherry red above a glass door. Harvey drifted around as he searched for just about anything to help him. Light flashed as thunder rumbled the building. In the blink of light, he saw a wood-paneled sign above him with ‘Office’ printed on it.
Harvey opened the office door and crawled into the small square room. A pitch-black doorway stood before him like an obelisk. The first room had a small desk and a cheap metal chair. On the desk was a clay statue of a child with the words ‘world’s best receptionist’ written on it.
Harvey dipped into the pitch-black doorway. The place was a windowless black box. The light hissed into life as he flicked the switch. A large filing cabinet stood behind the desk. Written on the cabinet’s labels were: faculty, taxes, and students.
Harvey opened the student cabinet like a birthday present and found nothing. He was about to just give up when he noticed a map taped to the back of the door. He studied the paper and… bingo, there was a storage closet on the second floor.
Harvey faded away from the cherry red exit sign and into the black of the hallway. He knew a person was out in the streets with him. They appeared too many times to not be a coincidence. He kept on looking back, fearing to hear a set of footfalls make echoing squeaks along the gym floor. The sliding clack of Abe’s claws kept throwing Harvey’s hearing off.
He made it to stairs then paused. Thunder roared again, followed by silence. Harvey listened to the slow crack and groan of the school as he stopped. No one was there. He faded into pure darkness as he trekked upstairs.
The darkness on the second floor was more pungent. A single window stood at the end of each hall, offering faint indentations that you were in a building and not a shapeless void. A flash of lightning gave him a dim view of the corridor he strode through.
He found the storage room through a flick of lighting. He turned on the light and closed the door. Abe sniffed up and down the metal shelves, taking in the scent of old paper and dust in the cramped room. Boxes of documents lined each side of them.
Harvey foraged through the papers like a starving animal. His mind dawned devilish delusions on the surrounding sounds as he flicked faster through the boxes. The crack of the rust-brown shelves was an opening of a door. The flick each paper made was the steps of a person, getting closer and closer as he raced through each one. Class of 77’, 76’, 78’, he combed each file for that name, that damn name.
His fingers froze, his eyes widened with feverish excitement, and his heart made joyful fear throbs in his chest. Here it was, a transcript of grade, full name, address, and phone number—the folder of the devil. His eyes devoured the treasure trove of information. It felt unreal in his hands. He pulled Abe by his side and gave him a tight hug. Abe had his head on Harvey’s knee, mouth drooling dark lines down Harvey’s pants leg.
Harvey paused once more when he was out of the room. Folder clinched under his armpit. He waited for a sound, yet only rain and thunder called. He left the storage room light on as a guide out, then slithered downstairs.
As soon as they turned down the first floor, Harvey could see the gloss of Abe’s beige fur rear back. Abe lowered his front paws in a defensive prowl. Harvey stepped forward, Abe slid his hind legs back down the hall, almost pushing himself against the back wall. Harvey thought Abe was just worried about the gym, but then he heard it.
A wet, dragging sound echoed through the hall. Nothing was there—at least nothing he could see. A dark figure blocked the white reflection. Harvey could see only a pair of legs shaping in the thin line of light.
He tossed his gun up, the bandage on his wrist hampered his aim, “State your name and businesses!” The person remained frozen, fading into the dark. He felt like he was talking to a pair of poles in the middle of the hall. “I will use force, you’re under arrest for trespassing!” He heard a slithering sound surround him, as if hundreds of snakes glided across the walls. Abe barked; the hall echoed back. “Do you hear me!?” Harvey stepped towards the person. “I said-” His feet were glued to the ground. He tried to pull free, but nearly fell. He heard water drip as black ropes slithered around his knee.
A pair of white eyes lit within the darkness.
The glow from the eyes pulled back the curtain of darkness in the hall. Harvey saw black worm-like vines ripple in the light. The vines weaved and tangled on every surface towards him. The ones on the floor wriggled towards Harvey’s feet, then spun along his pants leg.
He pulled back the trigger of his pistol and missed. His shot shattered the window of a door behind the demonic being. He fired twice more before a tendril along the wall wrapped around his wrist, squeezing the gun out of his hand. He tried to grab the gun with his other hand but was yanked back as another tendril slithered across his wrist, his hands flopped like a puppet as the being loosen its grip to tug harder. His folder fell out of his armpit, scatting papers as it fluttered to the floor. The eyes grew in the darkness like a pair of oncoming headlights. Instead of taking steps, it slithered along the glossy path in front of him as if it were floating.
Harvey could see a murky white glow as the being smiled. It had teeth. Dear lord, it had teeth. Beautiful, perpendicular, and stained with black, as if were chewing on an ink pen.
It slid two fingers inside its cheeks and leaned five inches away from him. It pulled its mouth into an unsettling grin. The smile stretched beyond its eyes. Harvey gasped as he heard a slick snapping sound. This smile sagged into a frown as it It took one hand into its top lip and yanked.
Harvey forced his eyes shut as he then heard something like the breaking of rotten wood. The thing made shivering breaths as it tore its jell. He opened one eye, expecting to see the top of its head mutilated backwards, but saw something far more horrifying.
It was Debbie.
Her skin was bone white and her eyes frost white headlights. Ink black poured down her face. Harvey watched the stripes of black blood pool at the bottom of her chin. Debbie’s wet, blond hair slicked over the gloss of her shoulders.
The edge of her cheeks cracked into a smile, “You miss me, Harvey?” Her voice was hoarse, yet still had that luring sweetness. She leaned in, pressing her cold, damp cheek against his. The stripes of grease black blood tingled a burning pain on his cheek. He felt the thin layer of jell like gloss press against his chest as she leaned in. “You know my reason for being…”
Harvey’s heart wavered in dull, empty throbs as he fidgeted in her grasp. She slithered an arm behind his back and tugged tighter on the tendrils wrapped around his wrists. He tried to talk, but his words came out in shallow gasps. The hand on his back sauntered over to the buttons of his work shirt. She made a burning snails trail with her tongue up his neck.
He shivered and nearly gagged as he felt the cold slab of meat slide under his chin. She rolled her tongue back and pressed a finger on his lips. His voice finally caught up with him, “Ab… b,b,ab, Abe!” Lightning flash bulbed the hall, ingraining the image of her into his head. She pushed her finger on his face with more effort. Harvey smelt old makeup and play dough as the finger touched the bottom of his nose.
“Shhhh…it’s like I said,” she locked her translucent, luminescent eyes with his. She clasped his neck and pulled him in. Debbie’s lips still felt the same, despite being a colorless shell of what she once was; It all felt the same. Harvey tried to pull his head back, but a tentacle of searing black muck slung around his throat like a noose. His hearing faded away as she tugged on his neck.
It all felt the same, but that taste. Her tongue tasted like dust mixed with paint—a dry, oily feeling only medicine
could serve.
His breaths became short, gaggling gasps, Oh, dear. Lord… what. Have. I… Abe.
Debbie howled. She almost bit Harvey’s tongue again if she hadn’t cock her head back. Harvey’s knees squished into the squirming, vine-covered floor. Her grip loosened. Her eyes were out of signal TV channels, weaving between blinding light and minuscule ash white embers. Harvey forced his throbbing head up to see Abe in a full snarl. Stings of black ichor shone in the quivering light.
Abe had bitten off a chunk of her side. Black jell throbbed and melt around the C shaped tear near her stomach. She swung her head towards Abe and tried to lunge at him but fell flat as the hundreds of tendrils glued her to the floor.
“Abe, stop!” Harvey gasped as he stood, holding on one knee for support. “Debbie, I’m-” a fit of coughs interrupted his words. The vines made a harmonious slosh as they retreated to her body. “I’m—”
“Sorry?” she finished. “You said that a shit ton of times. Sorry, ain’t enough! There is no excuse for what you tried to do… you broke me, you defiled… the only thing you can do is pay.”
“I want to change!” Harvey’s shout made her sulk back. “It isn’t a part of me I wanted to be born with. It’s how I was raised.” Harvey stepped forward, slipping his hands in his pocket to hide his fear. “I want to do better, is there anything I could do to make you believe me?”
Debbie looked at the dog, then back to Harvey. Harvey saw remorse in her eyes. She was still human, at least the bit Harvey could see. “You know… I’m sorry as well…I don’t think I ever can forgive you.” She darted toward him.
Harvey’s stepped back and watched her freeze in the air. Her hair flung forward, then trailed behind her as she dropped. A bone snapping thunk echoed as her head smacked the white tile.
Harvey thought her tendrils tethered to the ground, but then he saw it; Abe’s teeth sunk into her leg. Her white eyes dimmed, making her fade into the darkness. Harvey shivered and stared at her, trying to process everything that just occurred. He stepped around her body and turned towards the front door window, watching the rain beat against the pavement outside.
Harvey shoe prints trailed from the classroom’s parchment yellow light and into the cherry-red glow of the exit sign.
A noise bothered Harvey. Is it wind? No, the trees are still. He saw Abe look up at him. Harvey smiled and ruffled the short fur on his head.
“We did good today, didn’t we?” Abe looked up Harvey, then looked around the room. A tear fell down Harveys cheek. “We did good… right?”
Abe shrieked out a bark. Harvey’s turned, but Abe wasn't there. Looked back down and saw him being yanked into the dark where Debbie’s body was, paws helplessly clacking on the tiles.
Harvey bolted down the hall and heard another shrill bark out of the darkness. He almost slipped on a pool of blood as he turned. Debbie was still sunk into the dark ground. The light from the classroom lit dim yellow on her forehead.
Black vines coiled Abe’s hulking frame. His legs paddled as if they were swimming. Debbie smiled as she looked up at Harvey. Dark liquid pooled through cracks of her teeth. Keeping his eyes on Debbie, Harvey whipped out his gun. And fired.
Her foul bleeding grin flicked away as her head rocked back then smacked back down on the ground.
Abe made airy whimpers as Harvey untangled the coils surrounding him. He picked up Abe and pressed him against his chest. “Come on boy, it’s okay, it’s okay…” Abe stood up and whined as he lifted his back leg. “Come on, come on…” Abe ambled towards Harvey, his right hind leg dipping as he put weight on it. Harvey could see a thin line of dark liquid trailing behind Abe as he stumbled passed the classroom light. Harvey tried to brush it off but a pain against the walls of his heart told him that it was something more.
He managed to get Abe to stumble into the car. Harvey drove as fast as he could towards a hospital, a vet, anything. Every place he passed was closed.
Abe snout pressed against the window as he witnessed the world go by.
Harvey saw the weariness in Abe’s eyes as they blinked. Abe looked out that same view he had always loved; the trees, the lost buildings, the forest—open and shut—The same view Abe looked out at noon, ears flapping, head poked out, bathing in the chill wind—open and shut—Abe rested his head on the edge of the closed window. His whining diminished—open and shut.
Side C Track 12
I Was Blind
I drove around for 30 minutes before I found a hospital. They said they would take a look but couldn’t offer much help. I didn’t explain how Abe was hurt, and I didn’t need to. Abe died in the car. Somewhere his eye shut, one final time.
Was he proud of this world, could he even feel proud? Did Abe think that all his actions leading up to that point even add up to anything? Despite all these empty unanswerable questions, there is one thing that certain; he was a good dog, a damn good one.
Sometimes, when I’m walking to my car from work, I’ll hear a howl echo from small construction lot and imagine it’s Abe’s ghost. I still wonder to this day if Abe ever got to become one of those shadowy dead beings. If he did, I bet he probably would amble his way towards that old house, where he lived, and reunite with his owners.
In reality, Abe’s gone, but that does not stop me from daydreaming some 15 odd years later. I’ll occasionally place a slice of ham out on my front porch for him in the hopes that his shadow would come back to snack on it. Other times I wonder why the neighbor’s god damn cat comes circling my legs like I’m the god of honey-glazed lunch meat.
Yesterday everything clicked together as I recited through every event with my wife. A piece of me died, that darker animistic piece my dad punched in. It could have been facing Debbie again. Or most likely, it could have been the ten minutes of silence as Abe made no movement. That ten minutes of dead quiet allowed me to finally understand. Change is slow, dreadful, and achievable. The first step of change is to step forward into the next door life gives you, and know that while you will not instantly snap as you cross that threshold, you can only change, step by step.
Side D Track 12
Now I Can See
“Do you have anywhere you want me to start?” Cassiel spoke within Michael. Michael paused and tried to make out anything in the darkness. He grew used to the wind cradling his body. It was like driving a car, the blur of the trees told you that you were cruising at ninety miles per hour, yet your body felt like it was just sitting down with the same energy it had sitting in a desk.
“Start at where you think things kicked. We got a lot of time before we get anywhere, might as well hear somethin’ instead of wind.” Michael glanced up in the darkness, praying for a pinhole of light to appear, and saw nothing. Out of nowhere, the image of a vast countryside with a small cottage appeared in his head. He was unsure what year it was.
“Around 1802,” Cassel’s voice felt like melting gold in his chest. “I stopped upon your land to help take care of a woman. She was sick and alone, in a small log cabin that stood along a brook side. She inherited the cottage after her father passed away inside. I gave her support as she struggled to help herself. First, I offered simple things, the occasional fish in her net for food or fallen lumber for her house. We never spoke, and she never believed in anything. The most communication we got in those early years was when she gazed at the wonder of the hills around noon, and I would look back at her. I should have left and let life take hold, but something kept me there. How pure her heart was. She had been buried in that cabin her entire life—unhindered by greed, lust, or envy. The greatest journey she ever made was 10 miles and back.
“I knew I had to let go, but… I couldn’t. She was a woman who owed life nothing. She had no grievances or debt, only chained by the passing of days and her body. I had all conceivable time in the world, and she had almost none. So I stuck and only visited in dreams. She never spoke or dreamt far. Her mind would flutter into the hills behind her house and just walk.
“One night, she spoke to me, as I sat along the branches of her tree, ‘will you stay for a while?’ her voice was like vanilla. Every dream after that, she would come up the hill, and we would talk. Her reality was simplistic yet sophisticated. She had not known that other people existed. I taught her about the world around her, and she taught me the world within her. Soon I seeped through her living days as a voice in the wind, teaching her how to grow crops, where the rain came from, and the movement of the stars. She was fascinated by every bit of the world, and I every bit of hers…
“There’s something beautiful about the world that heaven nor hell could ever capture, the uncertainty of things. Other planes don’t have this illusion of randomness build in. You all are the beautiful writers of ideas. We are just the pages filed away in the infinite planes of existence. It’s riveting when we must plan something because we know you paint the color into life… That woman became a color to mine, and I was hooked on the uncontrollable energy of life. That energy that beats you down yet rises you higher than you ever could imagine. Soon the woman and I became close. For ten years, we walked and discussed the meaning and meaninglessness of life. I made myself a physical being within her world.
“I should have left her the second I saw her, yet we were in love. Love is blind, for it is a defiance of that uncontrollable energy. She had a daughter just two years later. Before you know it, it was 1820, and I was an angel with an eight-year-old daughter and living in a cabin I spent fifteen years refurbishing. With the way time works in heaven, they would never know I was gone. However, I couldn’t leave them, my family depended on me, and I became far too attached. So I stayed, watched my girl grow up, and watched my wife's curly black hair melt into a cloud of gray. I would try to mend my body into some older version of itself, but my energy would remain intact. While I had my eternal youthful spirit, she would wither in the age of eighty-three.
Out There: A Rural Horror Story Page 23
