Behind Closed Doors 4/4 - Gundam Wing
Sep. 29th, 2004 11:54 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
yellowhordeDisclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing and I make no money from this or
any other story I write.
Pairings: None
Category: Horror/AU (Alternate Universe)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Moments of scariness
In a black blur of movement, impossibly long arms dripping with
unmentionable goo shattered through the wooden door and latched
themselves about the slender form of the child. Pinning his arms to
his side, covering his mouth before he had time to even draw breath!
His eyes bulged in sheer terror as he was yanked up, up and off of
his feet and back, back, faster than thought, than sound, than light!
Crashing through the supposedly solid door and into the never-ending
darkness. Where bright white fangs waited, dripping with saliva and
blood, reaching out to engulf him...devour him...
(OH, HELP ME, MOMMY, MOMMY! MOMMEEEEEEEEEEEE....!)
Duo awoke abruptly, a strangled scream, breathy and shrill, ripping
from his throat, small fists crammed against his mouth as if to hold
back the terror that had flooded through him in those last few panic
stricken moments.
The acrid smell of his own fear filled his nostrils and cold sweat
dripped from his face, drenched his violently trembling body, his
sleep tangled sheets; his large violet eyes wildly scanned the
confines of his bedroom. There was nothing there except for the
trusty night light which burned steadily from its socket, it's yellow
smiley face diligently standing sentinel against the lurking horde of
nighttime creepy crawlies that seemed to forever leer at and threaten
the hapless child.
Helplessly the boy's eyes were drawn towards the dreaded closet.
Fortunately, it was closed, closed tightly, just as it had been when
he had gone to bed. He had made sure himself.
"It was a dream," panted the small boy, his head dropping to his
heaving chest as relief washed over him, "only a dream…"
Drawing in one ragged breath, then another, and finally a third, Duo
slowly regained his composure, and ran one slender shaking hand
through his hair, whipping away the sweat that dripped into his eyes,
stinging.
(I can't take much more of this…)
Suddenly, the brunette boy's head shot up as very faint slithering-
scratching sound found it's way softly, stealthily to one pair of
small ears. Terror rolled over and through Duo like a cold wave that
threatened to suck under his mind, drag him into the dismal abyss
that spun and churned like a whirlpool and never let him go. His
heart began racing, a knot of apprehension twisting in his tummy. The
sound had come from the foot his bed! But that was ridiculous, right?
Totally absurd!
(Of course, it was absurd!) His mind screamed, (You didn't hear
anything. Nope, nothing at all! That was just your overactive
imagination. There is nothing under your bed, you baby! There simply
CAN'T be any gross, disgusting creature under your bed. We've been
through this a dozen times, already. There are no such things as
monsters, no such thing as monsters, no such thing, NO SUCH THING!
And besides, even if there WERE monsters, and I'm not saying there
are, mind you, BUT… even if there were, you have a NIGHT LIGHT, for
Pete's sake! And everyone knows that things that slither and go bump
in the night cannot stand light!)
Again, the sound drifted up towards him, just a little louder, and a
whole heck of a LOT closer. Instead of staying at the bottom of the
bed, (an almost safe distance—almost) it sounded like it was slowly
but steadily creeping its way up towards the head of the twin bed.
The creature had apparently decided to come and say howdy. And you
could bet your last dollar that it wasn't very friendly.
Duo cringed against the oak headboard, small white teeth clamping
over his bottom lip, attempting to stifle the moan of terror that
wanted to betray him, for to make any noise would surely attract the
attention of the beast, and pressed his small cold hands against his
mouth, pulling his lips away from his teeth in a lunatic imitation of
a grin as the sound came again…right UNDER him!
(No, no, no, no, NO! I did not hear that. No way. That's impossible.
No fair! I have a night light. No monster can stand in the light.
That's against the rules. That's CHEATING!)
Against the rules or not, the sound was heard once more. Just as
soft, just as sneaky. But not TOO sneaky, oh no. That would spoil the
fun. IT wanted to be heard, wanted the fragile, trembling child to
know that the shadows moved and slithered, lurked and stalked,
waiting for the opportunity to pounce, devour, destroy. IT wanted
him to be afraid, wanted to feel and taste the waves of terror that
flowed off the boy like water from a water fountain. IT slurped it up
and grinned a jagged toothed grin, all gleaming fangs and slobber.
And Duo was, without a doubt, afraid, but apparently, not enough. Not
yet, anyway.
Violet eyes ballooned as the closet door began to slide open with a
hellishly loud groaning, taking all the time it needed, all eternity
if it so desired, the hinges shrieking small rusty screams.
Slowly, slowly the door opened and the night light, protector of
small children, heroic guard that stood firm against the terrors of
the night, flared bright as magnesium reacting to the evil that dared
venture forth, but still that door continued to open. With a loud
tinkling, cracking sound, the light ruptured into a thousand
glistening shards of glass, plunging the room into darkness just as a
large hulking shadow began to emerge, from the now open closet, large
sickly green orbs shining high above the carpeted floor.
(Oh my God! Eyes, those are eyes, oh yes they are!)
Now this had to be some spectacular optical illusion for nothing that
large could have been dwelling in that small, cramped, insignificant
closet. That was impossible!
Duo's mind began to slide down that long slippery descent into
insanity. It had simply decided that enough was enough. Count me out,
pal. Adios, amigos! He could almost physically feel it untie
itself, felt it as it started breaking away from this reality, and
darkness was closing in on him, shutting down his mental circuits in
a desperate attempt to save his sanity. Dancing black spots crowded
in around him and he wobbled, moaning low in his throat.
(I'm fainting, oh God, fainting… If I faint now, I will die, I'll
die, I'll die! Or something much, much worse.)
What could possibly be worse than dying? Duo didn't know and he sure
as heck didn't want to find out.
In desperation the small child brought one fist up towards his face
smacking it sharply against his nose. The pain flared, intense,
immediate, not to be denied. The sweet metallic scent of copper
pennies threatened to drown him as blood began to spout. Damn, that
HURT! But it managed to clear his mind, his vision.
In a desperate blur of motion, Duo sprinted for the door but as soon
as his feet struck the ground, long dark tentacles shot out from
under the bed wrapping themselves around his small pumping legs. They
creeped up his legs and up towards his torso even before he had a
chance to even reach the door. Those tentacles pulled him, held him
suspended upside down, wrapping around the terrified child, confining
his arms and legs, as he kicked, fought and struggled. All to no
avail. The shadowy figure glided forward as if on wheels, fanged
mouth open and saliva dripping. It drew nearer and neared and it
smelled, Dear God, it reeked so bad, like garbage, rotten flesh,
decomposing leaves left in stagnant water.
Duo screamed loud and wretchedly.
*****
Roseanne awoke in her room with a start, her heart thudding painfully
in her chest, one hand pressed between her breasts, the other
reaching towards her husband. But that side of the bed was empty. She
had forgotten that he would be working a double shift and would not
be home until sometime around 8a.m. Panic wrapped itself about her
heart, squeezing excruciatingly tight.
Something had awoken her from a sound sleep, but what? Sweeping her
eyes around the room told her nothing. It was dark, and still.
Familiar shapes loomed in the dark, her armoire, the rocking chair
her grandmother had given to her on her wedding night, the bookshelf.
Everything was where it should be, and yet somehow seemed subtly out
of place. As if someone had stolen into her room and cunningly
adjusted all the furniture while she slept. Moving it just an inch,
if that.
(You're being silly, Roseanne.)
A scream reverberated faintly throughout the house, or was it just
her imagination? A sense of approaching doom hung in the air, heavy
like humidity, wrapping around her like a wet wool blanket,
smothering her. Something was wrong. But what was it? Some deep
instincts buried and long forgotten screamed that there was evil
lurking. No, pouncing!
She could not explain this feeling, but some small part of her brain
seized upon it, recognizing it for what it was; the terror of the
night, the scrapping of a tree branch against a glass pane, or
perhaps claws, long razor sharp claws that sought to rip, tear,
gouge? The soft slithering sounds, the tiny patter of creatures that
scurried and lurked. Were they mice or something more sinister that
walked in these walls at night…The simple dreadful belief in all
those nightmare apparitions that lurked and hunted when the good pure
light of the sun had abandoned the world, leaving it's children to
fend off the fear, the superstition, the reality that man with his
modern inventions had decided didn't really exist.
But they did exist, they did. In closets, under beds, in the dark
recesses of dried wells and under stairs, in cool, dank forests
anywhere, everywhere, as long as there was someone who believed,
someone to set them in motion, to turn that oh so tiny key that would
release them unto the world of man. At least until the sun rose and
sanity returned casting away the fear as easily as light banished
shadows.
Roseanne rose from her bed, donning her robe, and hurried through the
hall. The scream had not been her imagination! Her baby was
screaming, shrilly, in one continuous breath, screaming and wailing,
as the poor thing had never done before. Terror gripped the young
mother's heart with icy fingers. A dreadful sense that she was too
late filling her soul.
(Too late? Too late for what?)
Bursting into the tiny nursery, Roseanne snapped on the lights,
rushed to the crib and pulled the screaming child into her arms,
offering murmurs of love and comfort, stroking the fine blond curls
back from a tear streaked face. A quick examination showed that
nothing was wrong with the child, at least nothing physical. And yet,
the toddler continued to screech and arch her back, beating
diminutive fists against her mother's torso. She kept yelling the
same words over and over again. It took a few seconds, but eventually
Roseanne was able to make out what her daughter was saying.
"Maamaa! Du-oh! Du-oh! Mama!"
Suddenly the feeling of dread solidified with an almost audible
click. Something was horribly wrong with Duo! The blond woman did not
know what precisely, only that he was in mortal danger. Her maternal
instincts flared bright, instincts to love, nurture and PROTECT! With
teeth clenched in firm resolve, Roseanne set her baby down into the
crib and raced out of the room and down the hall to the northern most
bedroom, the one room in the entire house never warmed by a single
golden ray of sunshine.
*****
Duo struggled for breath as the slime encrusted tentacles squeezed
around his long, slender body, pinning his thrashing arms to his
sides, stilling his wildly flailing legs, constricting like some
horrific serpent, drawing the boy closer to the beast, bringing him
face to face with a creature that denied imagination. It had many
faces, but all of them were loathsome, horrifying: a rabid dog
dripping saliva, ready to bare fangs, bite and mangle, a devil with
leering green eyes and lolling tongue seeking out the souls of the
unwary, the stranger lurking in shadows to destroy innocence and
bathe in blood and terror. It was spiders; it was snakes with forked
tongues, ghosts, ghouls, werewolves and vampires. It was everything
and anything that could drive terror into the hearts of Mankind. It
was all of these despicably loathsome things and yet none of them. It
was and would always be known simple as EVIL. It wore many masks, but
all recognized it for what it was.
Hot flesh grazed against his cheek, pressed against his lips, seeking
entrance into his mouth. A clawed hand gripped his chin and drew him
closer to the creature. Duo twisted and turned his head frantically,
but was not able to pull free. Moldering breath, the miasma of
defiled graves assaulted his senses, seared his young lungs as he
fought to breath, stung his eyes even behind closed lids, and scaled
his smooth skin. Fleshy lips clamped over his mouth, inhaling
sharply, a thick rattling sound as it absorbed the frail boy's
essence, his spirit, his soul.
The small child screamed wordlessly into that invading mouth, his
body convulsing, his back bowing. Thin arms flail helplessly in the
embrace of those binding coils of flesh, fists clenching and
unclenching spastically. Hot tears flooded past clenched eyes as he
felt his insides being devoured, dissolved…The creature was hollowing
him out, sucking him dry and it hurt, it HURT, IT HURRRT!
Duo felt his strength, his will, his mind, dissolve away, the part of
him that made him a unique individual, that part was being stripped
away layer by layer like an onion. His consciousness begins to fade
as his body began to fail…he was dying, he could feel it, taste the
darkness settling over him like a shroud. Pale extremities lost
strength, gave up the struggle as waves of cold mist clouded his
mind.
As Duo's struggles slowed and then finally ceased, the hideous
creature from the closet raked one dagger like claw across its flesh,
allowing its life force to flow freely. It cradled the now limp child
to its chest much as a mother would hold an infant to nurse and
pressed that small slack face against the wound allowing it's own hot
blood to flow past unresisting lips. Clouded lilac eyes slid closed,
thick lashes like soot against that oh so pale face, while the mind
continued screaming, continued struggling long after the body had
ceased doing so but fading away into the darkness that rushed in from
all sides…
(NO! Help me, God! Oh, please help me!)
*****
A large callused hand rested lightly against Roseanne's shoulder,
rousing her from a light slumber with a startled gasp. Blue eyes
gazed into familiar brown ones and the exhausted woman relaxed
visibly. She released a shaky breath and standing, wrapped her arms
around her husband. Jeff planted a gentle kiss on the top of her head
and eased them both onto the sofa.
"I got here just as soon as I could. How is he doing?"
The fair-haired woman released her husband with a sigh and gazed
dully about the hospital's waiting room. Tears pricked at the back of
her eyes but she refused to allow herself to cry. Not here, not in
public.
"Well, they have him under heavy sedation… They want to keep him a
few days so they can run some tests- some CAT scans and a bunch of
other ones…" she trailed off, her voice failing her and she realized
that she was going to cry whether she wanted to or not. Oh, damn it!
"The doctor's don't know what's wrong with him… Maybe he has epilepsy
or something…"
Jeff held her and murmured softly as he rocked her like a child. She
was sobbing now, trying to speak, to tell him what had happened, or
at least part of it, the part that he would believe at any rate. Her
eyes were wide and terror filled as she retold the events that had
transpired just a few short hours ago.
(Poor Duo, oh, my poor little boy!)
"It was horrible, Jeff, just awful! When I entered his room he was
crumpled up on the floor, and he was just as white as a ghost, and so
cold. I took him in my arms and I was so sure that he was dead, but
then his eyes snapped open and he began to jackknife around, his back
arching like a fish leaping out of the water. He was convulsing and…
and screaming. Screaming as fast as he could draw breath. I've never
heard anyone scream like that before, Jeff, NEVER. It was as if the
Devil was coming up besides him to steal his soul."
Roseanne stopped herself as images flooded her mind, unbidden.
(And maybe that's closer to the truth…but I can't say that…No one
would ever believe me, anyway. I must have imagined that. Yes, that's
it…I let myself get carried away…)
But deep in her heart she knew the truth. She could lie to the
doctors, to Jeff, and maybe even to herself…at least while she was
awake. But in her dreams, those evil images would linger forever,
haunting her until her dying day. She had rushed headlong into the
room and had been stopped dead in her tracks at the startling sight
that had greeted her.
Poor Duo, so still, so pale, being held in the embrace of some
gigantic monstrous being, his heart shaped face smeared with blood.
The creature or was it creatures? It was so difficult to say, but
anyhow, it had screeched, a high undulating sound almost like
maniacal laughter, which sliced through the air as sharp as any
knife. The sound had hurt her ears so that she clamped her hands over
them protectively. And before her eyes it had dissolved away like
cotton candy on the tongue. It had simply vanished, dropping the
child to the ground with a boneless thud.
What had it been? And what had it done to that poor defenseless boy?
*****
Violet eyes flickered open slowly, blinking a few times against the
thin wintry sunshine that filtered into the room through the
partially closed drapes that decorated the eastern window and fell
across the bed at a slanted angle. His vision was blurred but it was
gradually clearing.
In total wonder the deathly pale boy held his hands out to the thin
beams of light, half expecting them to burst into dazzling flames.
But no, there was dim warmth, but no searing agony, no crisping of
flesh, no spontaneous combustion.
Amazing!
A smile twitched the corner of Duo's mouth then the smile became a
grin, bearing small pearly white teeth. It was not a pleasant grin,
more like a snarl of a dangerous animal, a threat or promise of pain
and terror. Deep in those amethyst eyes, something dark lurked black
and forbidding, something malevolent stirred, bleeding into those
brilliant purple orbs and transforming them into pools of glittering
obsidian, cold as ice, promises of death and destruction.
"Mission accomplished."
THE END
any other story I write.
Pairings: None
Category: Horror/AU (Alternate Universe)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Moments of scariness
In a black blur of movement, impossibly long arms dripping with
unmentionable goo shattered through the wooden door and latched
themselves about the slender form of the child. Pinning his arms to
his side, covering his mouth before he had time to even draw breath!
His eyes bulged in sheer terror as he was yanked up, up and off of
his feet and back, back, faster than thought, than sound, than light!
Crashing through the supposedly solid door and into the never-ending
darkness. Where bright white fangs waited, dripping with saliva and
blood, reaching out to engulf him...devour him...
(OH, HELP ME, MOMMY, MOMMY! MOMMEEEEEEEEEEEE....!)
Duo awoke abruptly, a strangled scream, breathy and shrill, ripping
from his throat, small fists crammed against his mouth as if to hold
back the terror that had flooded through him in those last few panic
stricken moments.
The acrid smell of his own fear filled his nostrils and cold sweat
dripped from his face, drenched his violently trembling body, his
sleep tangled sheets; his large violet eyes wildly scanned the
confines of his bedroom. There was nothing there except for the
trusty night light which burned steadily from its socket, it's yellow
smiley face diligently standing sentinel against the lurking horde of
nighttime creepy crawlies that seemed to forever leer at and threaten
the hapless child.
Helplessly the boy's eyes were drawn towards the dreaded closet.
Fortunately, it was closed, closed tightly, just as it had been when
he had gone to bed. He had made sure himself.
"It was a dream," panted the small boy, his head dropping to his
heaving chest as relief washed over him, "only a dream…"
Drawing in one ragged breath, then another, and finally a third, Duo
slowly regained his composure, and ran one slender shaking hand
through his hair, whipping away the sweat that dripped into his eyes,
stinging.
(I can't take much more of this…)
Suddenly, the brunette boy's head shot up as very faint slithering-
scratching sound found it's way softly, stealthily to one pair of
small ears. Terror rolled over and through Duo like a cold wave that
threatened to suck under his mind, drag him into the dismal abyss
that spun and churned like a whirlpool and never let him go. His
heart began racing, a knot of apprehension twisting in his tummy. The
sound had come from the foot his bed! But that was ridiculous, right?
Totally absurd!
(Of course, it was absurd!) His mind screamed, (You didn't hear
anything. Nope, nothing at all! That was just your overactive
imagination. There is nothing under your bed, you baby! There simply
CAN'T be any gross, disgusting creature under your bed. We've been
through this a dozen times, already. There are no such things as
monsters, no such thing as monsters, no such thing, NO SUCH THING!
And besides, even if there WERE monsters, and I'm not saying there
are, mind you, BUT… even if there were, you have a NIGHT LIGHT, for
Pete's sake! And everyone knows that things that slither and go bump
in the night cannot stand light!)
Again, the sound drifted up towards him, just a little louder, and a
whole heck of a LOT closer. Instead of staying at the bottom of the
bed, (an almost safe distance—almost) it sounded like it was slowly
but steadily creeping its way up towards the head of the twin bed.
The creature had apparently decided to come and say howdy. And you
could bet your last dollar that it wasn't very friendly.
Duo cringed against the oak headboard, small white teeth clamping
over his bottom lip, attempting to stifle the moan of terror that
wanted to betray him, for to make any noise would surely attract the
attention of the beast, and pressed his small cold hands against his
mouth, pulling his lips away from his teeth in a lunatic imitation of
a grin as the sound came again…right UNDER him!
(No, no, no, no, NO! I did not hear that. No way. That's impossible.
No fair! I have a night light. No monster can stand in the light.
That's against the rules. That's CHEATING!)
Against the rules or not, the sound was heard once more. Just as
soft, just as sneaky. But not TOO sneaky, oh no. That would spoil the
fun. IT wanted to be heard, wanted the fragile, trembling child to
know that the shadows moved and slithered, lurked and stalked,
waiting for the opportunity to pounce, devour, destroy. IT wanted
him to be afraid, wanted to feel and taste the waves of terror that
flowed off the boy like water from a water fountain. IT slurped it up
and grinned a jagged toothed grin, all gleaming fangs and slobber.
And Duo was, without a doubt, afraid, but apparently, not enough. Not
yet, anyway.
Violet eyes ballooned as the closet door began to slide open with a
hellishly loud groaning, taking all the time it needed, all eternity
if it so desired, the hinges shrieking small rusty screams.
Slowly, slowly the door opened and the night light, protector of
small children, heroic guard that stood firm against the terrors of
the night, flared bright as magnesium reacting to the evil that dared
venture forth, but still that door continued to open. With a loud
tinkling, cracking sound, the light ruptured into a thousand
glistening shards of glass, plunging the room into darkness just as a
large hulking shadow began to emerge, from the now open closet, large
sickly green orbs shining high above the carpeted floor.
(Oh my God! Eyes, those are eyes, oh yes they are!)
Now this had to be some spectacular optical illusion for nothing that
large could have been dwelling in that small, cramped, insignificant
closet. That was impossible!
Duo's mind began to slide down that long slippery descent into
insanity. It had simply decided that enough was enough. Count me out,
pal. Adios, amigos! He could almost physically feel it untie
itself, felt it as it started breaking away from this reality, and
darkness was closing in on him, shutting down his mental circuits in
a desperate attempt to save his sanity. Dancing black spots crowded
in around him and he wobbled, moaning low in his throat.
(I'm fainting, oh God, fainting… If I faint now, I will die, I'll
die, I'll die! Or something much, much worse.)
What could possibly be worse than dying? Duo didn't know and he sure
as heck didn't want to find out.
In desperation the small child brought one fist up towards his face
smacking it sharply against his nose. The pain flared, intense,
immediate, not to be denied. The sweet metallic scent of copper
pennies threatened to drown him as blood began to spout. Damn, that
HURT! But it managed to clear his mind, his vision.
In a desperate blur of motion, Duo sprinted for the door but as soon
as his feet struck the ground, long dark tentacles shot out from
under the bed wrapping themselves around his small pumping legs. They
creeped up his legs and up towards his torso even before he had a
chance to even reach the door. Those tentacles pulled him, held him
suspended upside down, wrapping around the terrified child, confining
his arms and legs, as he kicked, fought and struggled. All to no
avail. The shadowy figure glided forward as if on wheels, fanged
mouth open and saliva dripping. It drew nearer and neared and it
smelled, Dear God, it reeked so bad, like garbage, rotten flesh,
decomposing leaves left in stagnant water.
Duo screamed loud and wretchedly.
*****
Roseanne awoke in her room with a start, her heart thudding painfully
in her chest, one hand pressed between her breasts, the other
reaching towards her husband. But that side of the bed was empty. She
had forgotten that he would be working a double shift and would not
be home until sometime around 8a.m. Panic wrapped itself about her
heart, squeezing excruciatingly tight.
Something had awoken her from a sound sleep, but what? Sweeping her
eyes around the room told her nothing. It was dark, and still.
Familiar shapes loomed in the dark, her armoire, the rocking chair
her grandmother had given to her on her wedding night, the bookshelf.
Everything was where it should be, and yet somehow seemed subtly out
of place. As if someone had stolen into her room and cunningly
adjusted all the furniture while she slept. Moving it just an inch,
if that.
(You're being silly, Roseanne.)
A scream reverberated faintly throughout the house, or was it just
her imagination? A sense of approaching doom hung in the air, heavy
like humidity, wrapping around her like a wet wool blanket,
smothering her. Something was wrong. But what was it? Some deep
instincts buried and long forgotten screamed that there was evil
lurking. No, pouncing!
She could not explain this feeling, but some small part of her brain
seized upon it, recognizing it for what it was; the terror of the
night, the scrapping of a tree branch against a glass pane, or
perhaps claws, long razor sharp claws that sought to rip, tear,
gouge? The soft slithering sounds, the tiny patter of creatures that
scurried and lurked. Were they mice or something more sinister that
walked in these walls at night…The simple dreadful belief in all
those nightmare apparitions that lurked and hunted when the good pure
light of the sun had abandoned the world, leaving it's children to
fend off the fear, the superstition, the reality that man with his
modern inventions had decided didn't really exist.
But they did exist, they did. In closets, under beds, in the dark
recesses of dried wells and under stairs, in cool, dank forests
anywhere, everywhere, as long as there was someone who believed,
someone to set them in motion, to turn that oh so tiny key that would
release them unto the world of man. At least until the sun rose and
sanity returned casting away the fear as easily as light banished
shadows.
Roseanne rose from her bed, donning her robe, and hurried through the
hall. The scream had not been her imagination! Her baby was
screaming, shrilly, in one continuous breath, screaming and wailing,
as the poor thing had never done before. Terror gripped the young
mother's heart with icy fingers. A dreadful sense that she was too
late filling her soul.
(Too late? Too late for what?)
Bursting into the tiny nursery, Roseanne snapped on the lights,
rushed to the crib and pulled the screaming child into her arms,
offering murmurs of love and comfort, stroking the fine blond curls
back from a tear streaked face. A quick examination showed that
nothing was wrong with the child, at least nothing physical. And yet,
the toddler continued to screech and arch her back, beating
diminutive fists against her mother's torso. She kept yelling the
same words over and over again. It took a few seconds, but eventually
Roseanne was able to make out what her daughter was saying.
"Maamaa! Du-oh! Du-oh! Mama!"
Suddenly the feeling of dread solidified with an almost audible
click. Something was horribly wrong with Duo! The blond woman did not
know what precisely, only that he was in mortal danger. Her maternal
instincts flared bright, instincts to love, nurture and PROTECT! With
teeth clenched in firm resolve, Roseanne set her baby down into the
crib and raced out of the room and down the hall to the northern most
bedroom, the one room in the entire house never warmed by a single
golden ray of sunshine.
*****
Duo struggled for breath as the slime encrusted tentacles squeezed
around his long, slender body, pinning his thrashing arms to his
sides, stilling his wildly flailing legs, constricting like some
horrific serpent, drawing the boy closer to the beast, bringing him
face to face with a creature that denied imagination. It had many
faces, but all of them were loathsome, horrifying: a rabid dog
dripping saliva, ready to bare fangs, bite and mangle, a devil with
leering green eyes and lolling tongue seeking out the souls of the
unwary, the stranger lurking in shadows to destroy innocence and
bathe in blood and terror. It was spiders; it was snakes with forked
tongues, ghosts, ghouls, werewolves and vampires. It was everything
and anything that could drive terror into the hearts of Mankind. It
was all of these despicably loathsome things and yet none of them. It
was and would always be known simple as EVIL. It wore many masks, but
all recognized it for what it was.
Hot flesh grazed against his cheek, pressed against his lips, seeking
entrance into his mouth. A clawed hand gripped his chin and drew him
closer to the creature. Duo twisted and turned his head frantically,
but was not able to pull free. Moldering breath, the miasma of
defiled graves assaulted his senses, seared his young lungs as he
fought to breath, stung his eyes even behind closed lids, and scaled
his smooth skin. Fleshy lips clamped over his mouth, inhaling
sharply, a thick rattling sound as it absorbed the frail boy's
essence, his spirit, his soul.
The small child screamed wordlessly into that invading mouth, his
body convulsing, his back bowing. Thin arms flail helplessly in the
embrace of those binding coils of flesh, fists clenching and
unclenching spastically. Hot tears flooded past clenched eyes as he
felt his insides being devoured, dissolved…The creature was hollowing
him out, sucking him dry and it hurt, it HURT, IT HURRRT!
Duo felt his strength, his will, his mind, dissolve away, the part of
him that made him a unique individual, that part was being stripped
away layer by layer like an onion. His consciousness begins to fade
as his body began to fail…he was dying, he could feel it, taste the
darkness settling over him like a shroud. Pale extremities lost
strength, gave up the struggle as waves of cold mist clouded his
mind.
As Duo's struggles slowed and then finally ceased, the hideous
creature from the closet raked one dagger like claw across its flesh,
allowing its life force to flow freely. It cradled the now limp child
to its chest much as a mother would hold an infant to nurse and
pressed that small slack face against the wound allowing it's own hot
blood to flow past unresisting lips. Clouded lilac eyes slid closed,
thick lashes like soot against that oh so pale face, while the mind
continued screaming, continued struggling long after the body had
ceased doing so but fading away into the darkness that rushed in from
all sides…
(NO! Help me, God! Oh, please help me!)
*****
A large callused hand rested lightly against Roseanne's shoulder,
rousing her from a light slumber with a startled gasp. Blue eyes
gazed into familiar brown ones and the exhausted woman relaxed
visibly. She released a shaky breath and standing, wrapped her arms
around her husband. Jeff planted a gentle kiss on the top of her head
and eased them both onto the sofa.
"I got here just as soon as I could. How is he doing?"
The fair-haired woman released her husband with a sigh and gazed
dully about the hospital's waiting room. Tears pricked at the back of
her eyes but she refused to allow herself to cry. Not here, not in
public.
"Well, they have him under heavy sedation… They want to keep him a
few days so they can run some tests- some CAT scans and a bunch of
other ones…" she trailed off, her voice failing her and she realized
that she was going to cry whether she wanted to or not. Oh, damn it!
"The doctor's don't know what's wrong with him… Maybe he has epilepsy
or something…"
Jeff held her and murmured softly as he rocked her like a child. She
was sobbing now, trying to speak, to tell him what had happened, or
at least part of it, the part that he would believe at any rate. Her
eyes were wide and terror filled as she retold the events that had
transpired just a few short hours ago.
(Poor Duo, oh, my poor little boy!)
"It was horrible, Jeff, just awful! When I entered his room he was
crumpled up on the floor, and he was just as white as a ghost, and so
cold. I took him in my arms and I was so sure that he was dead, but
then his eyes snapped open and he began to jackknife around, his back
arching like a fish leaping out of the water. He was convulsing and…
and screaming. Screaming as fast as he could draw breath. I've never
heard anyone scream like that before, Jeff, NEVER. It was as if the
Devil was coming up besides him to steal his soul."
Roseanne stopped herself as images flooded her mind, unbidden.
(And maybe that's closer to the truth…but I can't say that…No one
would ever believe me, anyway. I must have imagined that. Yes, that's
it…I let myself get carried away…)
But deep in her heart she knew the truth. She could lie to the
doctors, to Jeff, and maybe even to herself…at least while she was
awake. But in her dreams, those evil images would linger forever,
haunting her until her dying day. She had rushed headlong into the
room and had been stopped dead in her tracks at the startling sight
that had greeted her.
Poor Duo, so still, so pale, being held in the embrace of some
gigantic monstrous being, his heart shaped face smeared with blood.
The creature or was it creatures? It was so difficult to say, but
anyhow, it had screeched, a high undulating sound almost like
maniacal laughter, which sliced through the air as sharp as any
knife. The sound had hurt her ears so that she clamped her hands over
them protectively. And before her eyes it had dissolved away like
cotton candy on the tongue. It had simply vanished, dropping the
child to the ground with a boneless thud.
What had it been? And what had it done to that poor defenseless boy?
*****
Violet eyes flickered open slowly, blinking a few times against the
thin wintry sunshine that filtered into the room through the
partially closed drapes that decorated the eastern window and fell
across the bed at a slanted angle. His vision was blurred but it was
gradually clearing.
In total wonder the deathly pale boy held his hands out to the thin
beams of light, half expecting them to burst into dazzling flames.
But no, there was dim warmth, but no searing agony, no crisping of
flesh, no spontaneous combustion.
Amazing!
A smile twitched the corner of Duo's mouth then the smile became a
grin, bearing small pearly white teeth. It was not a pleasant grin,
more like a snarl of a dangerous animal, a threat or promise of pain
and terror. Deep in those amethyst eyes, something dark lurked black
and forbidding, something malevolent stirred, bleeding into those
brilliant purple orbs and transforming them into pools of glittering
obsidian, cold as ice, promises of death and destruction.
"Mission accomplished."
THE END
