Saturday, August 13, 2005

the first story i had written in many years
Nightmares

I’m getting sick and tired of being in this meat locker. How do I know it’s a meat locker? There’s not any meat in here, it’s just cold. Oh well, this perfect square of a meat locker? could be my coffin. I’ve been here what, thirty hours. And this damn stack of pictures just keeps growing. Eleven blood covered pictures in all now. I wonder where it got them all from. That must be what it’s doing when it’s not crawling through the air ducts, it’s looking for our pictures in our offices. That could be how it decides the order to kill us in. Isn’t that horrible, your turn to die because some thing randomly found your picture first. This can’t be real.

Tap tap tap. The familiar sound from the air duct.

Another picture came floating down from the air vent. Just whimsically floating through the air, coasting on the breeze from the vent on its way down to the pile of bloody pictures. Someone else was going to die. I wonder who?
“Someone should check who’s turn it is,” said green sweater.
“Yeah,” was all I could get myself to say.
“So who’s going to check?,” said white parka with blue stripes,
“I will,” said orange parka. He stumbled as he got up. The thing in the air ducts isn’t going to have to wait much longer. Without sleep we’re going to start getting sloppy. He almost slipped again when he stepped into a puddle of blood from one of the more violent kills. That corpse’s feet were swaying slowly in the current from the vent below it. A smile grew on orange parka’s face. “It’s not me.”

Tap tap tap. It was moving again.

We all got up and moved to the center of the room to see if it was us. There was no need to check, orange parka handed the picture to green sweater.
“I guess it’s my time to go,” said green sweater as he sank to the ground. We all joined him knowing it would eventually be our turn.

Tap tap tap.

Looking at that guy, I doubt he’s going to last ten minutes. He’s already falling asleep. The thing may not be near us right now, but I’d say it’s getting ready to move, the noises are getting faster.

Tap tap tap. It stick its decayed crocodile head out of the north vent and gave a species of a smile. We all slid south, green sweater moved slowly.

This isn’t real. I don’t even remember the names of these guys. I’ve been here thirty hours and I don’t even remember their names.

Tap tap tap. We all got up and moved without even thinking about the movement, except for green sweater. He had fallen asleep. I guess it’s just his time to die. It doesn’t really matter if I wake him up this time. He’ll just end up dying later anyway. OUCH! I sat on a bone fragment. Sharp. Hmmmmm.

Tap tap tap. The sound was at the south end. Green sweater was still asleep.

The decaying crocodile head came out of the south vent, smiled, and pulled itself back in. All of us in the north corner shut up at once. A three clawed hand came sliding out of the vent. It’s strange, that hand ripped apart eleven people and it’s still clean, no blood at all. This isn’t real. I don’t even remember their names. It’s hand reached green sweater, grabbed him by the foot, and did not just drag him back t the hole, it picked him up into the air with its deformed arm and tossed him. His knee snapped from the stress, sounding like a tree going down in the forest. Now green sweater was awake and screaming like the day he was born. From the moment he landed the hand had him, his foot went down the hole first. Blood sprayed, some of it almost making it to us. The corpse on the wall just kept swaying. Then green sweater surprised all of us. A knife flashed out from a pocket and he stabbed the thing in the air ducts with it. The vent now being open again as his foot had been eaten. His death was apparently postponed since the hand moved back into the vent.
“Help me please! Come on!,” said green sweater. He began to drag himself along the floor, leaving a slug trail of blood from his leg. Maybe it isn’t a waste to help this guy. I guess I’ll try. Can’t forget the bone. I stood and began to walk. “Thank youo mAn. I von’t forket this,” said green sweater. He must be losing a lot of blood if he’s already talking like that. His hand was trembling as he reached up to me and tried to grab my leg. Once he had a grip on my pants leg I started walking back to the north vent.
“OHHH DGGOOODD!,” said a voice from behind me. I turned and saw the arm coming back out of the vent and tapping as it came towards green sweater. I’d hate to waste the bone, but....... I pulled out the fragment and stabbed with a downward arc, pinning the hand to the ground. To free itself, it simply pulled backward and ripped itself nearly in half. No blood came out of the wound. This isn’t real. How could that thing not bleed from having it’s hand torn apart like that.
“Are you insane? It’s going to punish us now! One of us is going to die horribly,” said white parka with blue stripes.
There goes that chance at life. Maybe there’s another weapon around here. If not, I could always get one these guys to help me out. I suppose I should just sit back and listen to what they’re saying. Maybe I should ask some questions to figure out if they are any good to me. By this time I’d made it across the room, green sweater’s shadow of a leg was already twitching from blood loss. Some of the pictures which had already been dropped down were stuck to my foot, adding yet another coat of blood to my shoes. These’ll never be good again.

Tap tap.

“HhahahAAAHahahhAA!,” giggled orange parka. He’s gone.
“Hay! If it’s my turn next will you take my place? How about you? It already attacked you once, it won’t kill you now! You know what. Hiihihihi. It’s your fault anyway. If you had died it wouldn’t be angry!,” ranted white parka with blue stripes. He’s even worse. It looks like the only guy who can help me is the guy who is about to die. Well, I’ll at least see if dying guy could be of any help.
“You’re alll–allllll,” his head was rolling around on his shoulders like he had a broken neck “,all a buuuunch of cowardsssss,” said dying guy.

Tap tap tap. A hand once again protruded from the vent in the roof and let yet another picture float down.

No one else is in good enough shape to go over and get that picture. I might as well do it. I stood and began to walk when the hand came shooting down and started trying to give me a haircut down to my shoulders with the razor like claws on its hand. I guess it’s my picture. “Hey! White parka! Get over here and see who’s picture this is.”
“Never! Not in a thousand years! It’ll kill meeee!,” his voice becoming a high pitch squeel.
“You just saw it take a swipe at my head, it aint’ gonna kill you. Now get over here before I drag you over here!,” I heard myself screaming. Looking back I suppose it wasn’t such a great idea to lose it myself.

Tap... This time it was as the door.

I was walking across the room by this time with the firm intent of readjusting the positioning of the bloody yanks’ head. Then the door opened and I knew there was going to be another swaying corpse....very soon. It was dragging itself across the floor with its one putrid, fetid hand. To my horror, I noticed that the one hand it had was not injured at all. When it had tried to take off my head I simply assumed it was another undamaged hand; but no, this hand was good. I can’t kill it. On par with the one hand, it had one leg, and one totally unusable wing which could never fly. How pitiful. It’s decayed crocodile head smiled at me as it passed by, its plump underbelly sliding on the floor as it crawled towards orange parka.
“AAHHahaaHAHAAhahAA!,” was his only response to its persistent dragging of its puke orange body towards him. He’s going to die and he doesn’t even care. No. He’s going to die and doesn’t even KNOW it. This isn’t real.
“HhhhhaAHAHAHaaaacccckkk,” came out of his throat even as the thing grabbed and levitated him into the air by it. With an almost comical grace, it caught him in midair an dshoved its hand into orange parka’s chest. We were all quiet as orange parka became torn orange parka with red splashes. Its hand came back out of chest holding one of his ribs and stretched to pin orange parka’s body to the wall after flinging it across the room like the toy the thing obviously felt his body was. This corpse doesn’t sway. To show just how crazily, sadistic it was it gave me the picture on the floor as it pushed and pulled itself along. The photo was on of one in the room. What a #$^^%&. The thing in the air ducts(no right in front of me) was killing us just for the fun of it. I must have made it angry by stopping it from killing dying guy, at least immediately.
“You’re a sadistic @^%$&#@,” I said, knowing it wouldn’t kill me because that wouldn’t be as torturous as letting me live just a little bit longer. The thing from the air ducts turned, and smiled with its decayed crocodile head. Its one good eye trying to wink, but just looking worse for the wear.
“See what you all did! You made it angry. But not me. Nooooooo. I’m good. I listen to it. It likes me. He god likes me. LIKES ME!,” the voice of white parka with blue stripes once again going into a higher register.
“Shu-shutup you cowards. I-iiiiieeeee kan’t beLIEve I’m going to die with,” his head was once again rolling around. This time blood was flowing from his lips. I guessgetting thrown against the wall broke a rib and finally took its toll on his lungs. “Cowardsssss,” was his last word and then dying guy was dead. My only chance and hope was gone.

Tap tap tap. This came from the other side of the once again shut door.

“Now it’s just you and me. It’s going to kill you next because you made it angry. HEHEHEHEH!,” said white parka with blue stripes, while I did my best not to create another swaying or not swaying corpse.
“Just wait. It’s gonna kill you,” I said.
“It likes me. It won’t kill me,” insisted white parka with blue stripes. That’s it. Good-bye.
I stood up, walked over to him, and began to beat him in the face. It felt good. Who cared about the beast in the walls? Who cared about the fact that I was going to die here in this meat locker? It didn’t matter. I was going to beat his face in before I died. And then it happened. The thing in the air ducts must have really liked him or really hated me because it came bursting in from all of the air vents at once. How did it grow four arms and how are they all suddenly long enough to reach me from any air duct? Moron. The same way its hand can piece itself back together again. Every one of my limbs was grabbed as well as my throat. To get to my arm, one of the hands had made white parka with blue stripes into guy with an arm through his chest. I smiled fo rthe first time that day. The hand around my throat gave a squeeze and then pulled back into the roof. The decayed crocodile head came out next. It smiled as I was lifted into the air. It could have killed me from the start. The thing had the power to kill all fifteen of us from the very beginning, but it chose to have fun with us. It is evil. Whatever voice this this has, I bet it’s what the devil’s sounds like. This isn’t real.
“I hate you,” then I was flying. The thing had pitched me across the room like it had done all of the other times. I was expecting its hand to come reaching up into my ribs at any time now. Then I hit the door and the door hit me back. It had swung open the moment I’d hit it.
“Don’t move. Put your hands over your head and lie face down on the ground now,” said a completely new voice.
Trying to suck air into my lungs I complied as best as I could, noticing that the voice was connected to a gun at the back of my head. “You have to kill it before it kills us all.”
“I think you’ve taken care of that department. Now shut up,” commanded the voice with the gun.
One of the other swat members was throwing up from the sight of the gore. He hadn’t lifted his faceplate fast enough as some of it was dripping from his face and visor. “He killed them all,” he said between bursts.
The voice with the gun said “,gt Domingez out of here get a forensics team in here so I can figure out what happened.”
“It killed them all, that’s what happened.”
“I told you to shut up,” then the cuffs were on me and now I’m here talking you.
“I see. Well.. Uhhh... That is.. Uhhh. An interesting story. You really believe that,” asked the reporter.
“Yes I do.”
“What sentence do you expect to get if convicted?”
“Death. I’m accused of killing an entire building of people.”
“I see. That’s all the time we have. I hope you folks at home have enjoyed my live interview with the meat locker killer-”
“So it was a meat locker?”
“What-uh-Yes it was. Anyway I hope you stay tuned for our weekly taste test-,” the sound of the reporter’s voice was fading quickly into nothing. I smell something in the air. A meat locker? That’s impossible. I can’t believe it. This can’t be real.

Tap tap tap. The familiar sound. I looked up to see another picture floating down to the ground, no one else but the camera man seemed to notice it. He just looked at me with an expression of horror I had never seen before.

It was snowing again.
Comments (2)