diff --git a/horrors2.ltx b/horrors2.ltx index 8d23d74..175460c 100644 --- a/horrors2.ltx +++ b/horrors2.ltx @@ -113,14 +113,14 @@ and/or blood. Stay strong, pukers. %\include{stories/KryonikMessiah.The_Ninjas} \include{stories/IShallRiseAgain.The_School} \include{stories/Paracetamol_Boy.The_Smile} -%\include{stories/ack_.The_Dock} +\include{stories/ack_.The_Dock} \include{stories/rinski.The_Mansio} \include{stories/Syphilicious_.What_Lurks} %\include{stories/Rummanging.Nebulous_C} \include{stories/antiloquax.The_Unexpe} \include{stories/benitocereno.The_Beginn} %\include{stories/A_Child_s_Letter.Yellow_Eye} -%\include{stories/Decatur_Fist.The_Last_N} +\include{stories/Decatur_Fist.The_Last_N} %\include{stories/Brolita.Mac} \include{stories/nmg.The_Horrid} \include{stories/Ghost_Hat.Invisible_} @@ -131,24 +131,24 @@ and/or blood. Stay strong, pukers. %\include{stories/TheElectronicOne.In_the_Mir} \include{stories/WhereTheFishLives.The_Horrid} \include{stories/on_time_for_once.The_Playgr} -%\include{stories/overnightmike.The_Explod} +\include{stories/overnightmike.The_Explod} \part{You're no Hakan} \include{stories/Part_of_Everything.The_Death_} -%\include{stories/Madcosby.Son_Of_Bav} +\include{stories/Madcosby.Son_Of_Bav} \include{stories/Dr_Scoofles.The_Long_F} %\include{stories/Peas_and_Rice.The_King} \include{stories/reasonable_form.The_Six_Si} %\include{stories/Smeef.The_Old_Ch} %\include{stories/jidohanbaiki.The_Ocean} \include{stories/Knuc_If_U_Buck.The_Horrif} -%\include{stories/henpod.The_Last_C} -%\include{stories/Mortonic.The_Very_H} +\include{stories/henpod.The_Last_C} +\include{stories/Mortonic.The_Very_H} %\include{stories/Oatgan.The_Scream} \include{stories/Lynxifer.The_Orches} -%\include{stories/Cheesus_Christ.The_Horrid} -%\include{stories/brylcreem.The_Creatu} -%\include{stories/taurapo.The_Child} +\include{stories/Cheesus_Christ.The_Horrid} +\include{stories/brylcreem.The_Creatu} +\include{stories/taurapo.The_Child} \include{stories/Assless_Chaps.The_Mosqui} \include{stories/Sirocco.The_Monste} \include{stories/Cota_Froise.The_Horrid} @@ -182,7 +182,7 @@ and/or blood. Stay strong, pukers. \include{stories/JohnnyThreeToes.Horrid_Tra} \include{stories/King_Plum_the_Nth.Flow_My_Te} \include{stories/Yogi_Byron.Horror_D_o} -%\include{stories/Funk_In_Shoe.I_am___bf_} +\include{stories/Funk_In_Shoe.I_am___bf_} %\include{stories/Zarimus.Little_Men} \include{stories/CannedMacabre.For_the_Ch} \include{stories/Ridgely__Fan.The_Cocoon} diff --git a/stories/Syphilicious_.What_Lurks.tex b/stories/Syphilicious_.What_Lurks.tex index 71086b2..62da834 100644 --- a/stories/Syphilicious_.What_Lurks.tex +++ b/stories/Syphilicious_.What_Lurks.tex @@ -2,445 +2,326 @@ \by{Syphilicious!} - - - Thursday night, and everything is quiet. Unusual for me, but in my -current settings it should be expected; instead of walking my beat -in the thug-infested alleys of our dear city, I am far out in the -country, at Old Woman McCannshire's place, engaged in a staring -contest with the termites that crawl in and out of the floor of her -porch as I wait for her to answer the door. The middle of nowhere -does not properly describe my location; I'd been driving so long -that I'm probably already halfway out. My name is Luke Bavarius, -and I'm a detective, but tonight I appear to be the guy that drives -around checking under old biddies' beds for monsters. +current settings it should be expected; instead of walking my beat in +the thug-infested alleys of our dear city, I am far out in the country, +at Old Woman McCannshire's place, engaged in a staring contest with the +termites that crawl in and out of the floor of her porch as I wait for +her to answer the door. The middle of nowhere does not properly describe +my location; I'd been driving so long that I'm probably already halfway +out. My name is Luke Bavarius, and I'm a detective, but tonight I appear +to be the guy that drives around checking under old biddies' beds for +monsters. +Even the pranks get men sent out these days. A prank is what I would +have thought this would be if I didn't know the old woman calling was +too addled to even have a teenager's sense of humor. McCannshire thinks +her house is haunted by spirits, and wants one of us ``wonderful young +men you have working down there'' to come check it out. I'm almost glad I +forgot to bring my spare ammunition for my Beretta out here; I've used +that thing enough today considering my nerves are just about as shot as +those three bank robbers, and if this goose chase got any more boring +I'd probably put it in my mouth and make brain gumbo. +The unlatching of bolts awakens me from my reverie, and my head snaps +back up into the proper position. ``You win this time, termites,'' I +mutter, wiping a thin string of drool from my chin. Slowly, the door +creaks open, and I am treated to the sight of Mrs. McCannshire in a +wispy white nightgown. Perhaps in the prime of her youth this might have +been something I could have tolerated or even enjoyed, but the broad has +long been in her more tender years of age, her face has more wrinkles +than the wandering Jew's underwear, and her nightgown is greasy with the +mysterious secretions of the elderly. I try to focus on the mangy grey +poodle she cradles in one arm, a dirty little mutt that she probably +pampers like nobody's business. She really fits the picture of an old +bag of bones, and as soon as she opens her mouth I can tell how far gone +she really she is. -Even the pranks get men sent out these days. A prank is what I -would have thought this would be, if I didn't know the old woman -calling was too addled to even have a teenager's sense of humor. -McCannshire thinks her house is haunted by spirits, and wants one -of us ``wonderful young men you have working down there'' to come -check it out. I'm almost glad I forgot to bring my spare ammunition -for my Beretta out here; I've used that thing enough today -considering my nerves are just about as shot as those three bank -robbers, and if this goose chase got any more boring I'd probably -put it in my mouth and make brain gumbo. +``Are you the detective Officer Dent sent over to help with the spirits +in my house?'' She speaks slowly and clearly, her eyes twin moons of +gawkish innocence. I don't know which kind of dementia would be worse: +the flavor Mrs. McCannshire possesses where one is magically returned to +the age of nine or the other one where you think the walls are talking +to you. Although, considering why I was here, it's possible she suffered +from the latter too. +``Uh\ldots yes. Yes, ma'am. Officer Dent is my, uh, superior.'' I step past +her and walk inside, trying to ignore the subdued growl the mutt in her +hands has started up upon sight of me. The place is clean to a point; +there are numerous tables and shelves bedecked with pictures and family +heirlooms, all meticulously dusted, but the carpet is smeared with dirty +pawprints and general dust and filth, it's frayed and ragged material +likely not blessed by the gentle touch of a vaccuum cleaner for +years. The carpet and walls are an ugly matching beige and all the +miscellaneous objects, despite constant care, have lost their +luster. The only sign of real color comes from the bathroom behind the +door opposite the one I had come in, wherein an even more hideous bright +lime green covers the small amount of wall I can see around the door. +I turn to face her, reaching into the folds of my trenchcoat and drawing +out a pack of cigarettes and my lighter. ``Now, what seems to be the +problem here?'' A lazy puff of smoke floats serenely past my raised +eyebrow from my now lit cigarette. -The unlatching of bolts awakens me from my reverie, and my head -snaps back up into the proper position. ``You win this time, -termites,'' I mutter, wiping a thin string of drool from my chin. -Slowly, the door creaks open, and I am treated to the sight of Mrs. -McCannshire in a wispy white nightgown. Perhaps in the prime of her -youth this might have been something I could have tolerated or even -enjoyed, but the broad has long been in her more tender years of -age, her face has more wrinkles than the wandering Jew's underwear, -and her nightgown is greasy with the mysterious secretions of the -elderly. I try to focus on the mangy grey poodle she cradles in one -arm, a dirty little mutt that she probably pampers like nobody's -business. She really fits the picture of an old bag of bones, and -as soon as she opens her mouth I can tell how far gone she really -she is. - - - -``Are you the detective Officer Dent sent over to help with the -spirits in my house?'' She speaks slowly and clearly, her eyes twin -moons of gawkish innocence. I don't know which kind of dementia -would be worse: the flavor Mrs. McCannshire possesses where one is -magically returned to the age of nine or the other one where you -think the walls are talking to you. Although, considering why I was -here, it's possible she suffered from the latter too. - - - -``Uh{\ldots}yes. Yes, ma'am. Officer Dent is my, uh, superior.'' I stepped -past her and walked inside, trying to ignore the subdued growl the -mutt in her hands had started up upon sight of me. The place was -clean to a point; there were numerous tables and shelves bedecked -with pictures and family heirlooms, all meticulously dusted, but -the carpet was smeared with dirty pawprints and general dust and -filth, it's frayed and ragged material likely not blessed by the -gentle touch of a vaccuum cleaner for years. The carpet and walls -were an ugly matching beige and all the miscellaneous objects, -despite constant care, had lost their luster. The only sign of real -color came from the bathroom behind the door opposite the one I had -come in, wherein an even more hideous bright lime green covered the -small amount of wall I could see around the door. - - - -I turned to face her, reaching into the folds of my trenchcoat and -drawing out a pack of cigarettes and my lighter. ``Now, what seems -to be the problem here?'' A lazy puff of smoke floated serenely past -my raised eyebrow from my now lit cigarette. - - - -``Well,'' she said, setting the dog down onto the carpet where it did -an annoying little dance around our legs, barking and whining, -``I've been noticing things for several days now, but only this -morning did it get really bad. You see, every time I use the -bathroom I feel someone is watching me.'' - - +``Well,'' she says, setting the dog down onto the carpet where it does an +annoying little dance around our legs, barking and whining, ``I've been +noticing things for several days now, but only this morning did it get +really bad. You see, every time I use the bathroom I feel someone is +watching me.'' ``How can you tell?'' - - ``Well, at first it was just an uneasy feeling. But then I started -hearing voices that would say things that I couldn't make out. Then -I started seeing faces out of the corner of my eye or in a -reflection. And this is happening quite often, mind you. It's -happened every time I go in there, and these days I tend to{\ldots}oh, -how should I say it{\ldots}do my business more often, mostly because -my--'' - - - -``I understand, I understand,'' I said hurriedly. ``Please, -continue.'' - - - -``Well, uh, this morning, I saw a face in the mirror behind me. And -I didn't just see it, either; it was directly behind me, an entire -person, and he didn't go away until I turned round.'' +hearing voices that would say things that I couldn't make out. Then I +started seeing faces out of the corner of my eye or in a reflection. And +this is happening quite often, mind you. It's happened every time I go +in there, and these days I tend to\ldots oh, how should I say it\ldots +do my business more often, mostly because my--'' +``I understand, I understand,'' I say hurriedly. ``Please, continue.'' +``Well, uh, this morning, I saw a face in the mirror behind me. And I +didn't just see it, either; it was directly behind me, an entire person, +and he didn't go away until I turned round.'' My eyebrow, which had just started to head home for the day, turned -right back around and marched up my forehead. This sounded -legitimately interesting. Whatever had actually happened, seeing a -person plain as day was a lot better than imaginary sounds or -tricks of light that even happened to people who weren't sitting -outside Death's doorstep in motorized wheelchairs. There was really -only one thing to do. - - - -``Well, I guess you'll have to show me the bathroom then, Mrs. -McCannshire.'' - - - -``Right you are, dear.'' She seems to notice that my gaze had strayed -to the pictures on the small table next to the front door, and as -she hobbles past me towards the bathroom she begins to talk about -her dead husband. Half listening to her talk about the dangers of -late term prostate cancer and wincing at the intimate descriptions -she gives of the times she went with him for his checkups, I search -for an ashtray and find one nestled in between boxes of tissue and -stack of gardening books. I rub the flame out and leave the stub, -resolving not to smoke any more until I leave the house. The old -woman doesn't need all that smoke. +right back around and marched up my forehead. This sounded legitimately +interesting. Whatever had actually happened, seeing a person plain as +day is a lot better than imaginary sounds or tricks of light that even +happened to people who weren't sitting outside Death's doorstep in +motorized wheelchairs. There is really only one thing to do. +``Well, I guess you'll have to show me the bathroom then, +Mrs. McCannshire.'' +``Right you are, dear.'' She seems to notice that my gaze has strayed to +the pictures on the small table next to the front door, and as she +hobbles past me towards the bathroom she begins to talk about her dead +husband. Half listening to her talk about the dangers of late term +prostate cancer and wincing at the intimate descriptions she gives of +the times she went with him for his checkups, I search for an ashtray +and find one nestled in between boxes of tissue and stack of gardening +books. I rub the flame out and leave the stub, resolving not to smoke +any more until I leave the house. The old woman doesn't need all that +smoke. As I join her in the bathroom, I see that her poodle has the same -idea. It flies past me and sits whining at her feet until she -relents and picks it up again. I stand next to her and look around -the room. The mirror is old but clean, and the porcelain throne in -the corner is the same. I look into the sink, and from the short, -curly gray hairs lining the rim I deduce that she washes the dog in -it; either that or she's more up on the trends of women of today -than you'd think of a gal her age. +idea. It flies past me and sits whining at her feet until she relents +and picks it up again. I stand next to her and look around the room. The +mirror is old but clean, and the porcelain throne in the corner is the +same. I look into the sink, and from the short, curly gray hairs lining +the rim I deduce that she washes the dog in it; either that or she's +more up on the trends of women of today than you'd think of a gal her +age. +The horror of the thought further distracts me, and I begin to develop +that thousand yard stare as she tells me about the various scary +encounters she has experienced while voiding her bowels, unnecessarily +clueing me in on the second part in her stories too. Technically I am +looking at the hot water handle, but I am miles away, back on a real +cop's beat or in the arms of a good woman, whichever one does a better +job of distracting me from her current tale of a mysterious voice +whispering in what she thinks is Latin and the effects of the creamed +corn she had with lunch two days ago. Suddenly I spy in the reflection +from the mirror that the dog has the same idea. The yappy little thing +now sits silent and unmoving in her arms, staring intently into the eyes +of its reflection. +At first I am grateful for the relative silence that its new object of +interest has provided, but after a minute it begins to make my skin go +all goosey. I've never seen a dog sit that still for anything. I slowly +move my hand in front of its face, nodding to show Mrs. McCannshire I am +listening at a pause in her latest story involving the cupboard swinging +open and almost hitting her in the head and how the fright really helped +``loosen things, down there''. I pass my hand back in forth in front of +the dog's vision to no effect. In a moment of clarity I drudge up the +dog's name out of its owner's ramblings. -The horror of the thought further distracts me, and I begin to -develop that thousand yard stare as she tells me about the various -scary encounters she has experienced while voiding her bowels, -unnecessarily clueing me in on the second part in her stories too. -Technically I am looking at the hot water handle, but I am miles -away, back on a real cop's beat or in the arms of a good woman, -whichever one does a better job of distracting me from her current -tale of a mysterious voice whispering in what she thinks is Latin -and the effects of the creamed corn she had with lunch two days -ago. Suddenly I spy in the reflection from the mirror that the dog -has the same idea. The yappy little thing now sits silent and -unmoving in her arms, staring intently into the eyes of its -reflection. - - - -At first I am grateful for the relative silence that its new object -of interest has provided, but after a minute it begins to make my -skin go all goosey. I've never seen a dog sit that still for -anything. I slowly move my hand in front of its face, nodding to -show Mrs. McCannshire I am listening at a pause in her latest story -involving the cupboard swinging open and almost hitting her in the -head and how the fright really helped ``loosen things, down there''. -I pass my hand back in forth in front of the dog's vision to no -effect. In a moment of clarity I drudge up the dog's name out of -its owner's ramblings. - - - -``Jasper! Hey, Jasper!'' At once the dog is a flurry of motion, -leaping out of her hands and latching onto the watch around my -wrist with its teeth. I stumble backwards into the main room and -fall to the floor, frantically batting at the hideous ball of fur -as it growls like a recently castrated bear. Instinct takes over; -my mind recognizes when I am in a fight for my life even when the -opponent is a 15-pound owl pellet. Without thinking I wrap the palm -of the hand it grips around its head and bash it repeatedly against -the edge of a bookshelf next to me, then stagger to my feet and -swing it around the room, screaming to match its rabid cries. All -of a sudden it flies free with a high pitched yelp and collides -with the table on which the ashtray rested and the table and its -contents tumble to the ground. - - +``Jasper! Hey, Jasper!'' At once the dog is a flurry of motion, leaping +out of her hands and latching onto the watch around my wrist with its +teeth. I stumble backwards into the main room and fall to the floor, +frantically batting at the hideous ball of fur as it growls like a +recently castrated bear. Instinct takes over; my mind recognizes when I +am in a fight for my life even when the opponent is a 15-pound owl +pellet. Without thinking I wrap the palm of the hand it grips around its +head and bash it repeatedly against the edge of a bookshelf next to me, +then stagger to my feet and swing it around the room, screaming to match +its rabid cries. All of a sudden it flies free with a high pitched yelp +and collides with the table on which the ashtray rested and the table +and its contents tumble to the ground. I approach cautiously, waiting for my opponent to make some sign of -life. At once the small pile of picture frames and knicknacks -erupts as Jasper flies straight towards my face. - - +life. At once the small pile of picture frames and knicknacks erupts as +Jasper flies straight towards my face. I have anticipated it; it passes fruitlessly over my head as I lean -backwards almost parallel to the floor, and I hear its frenzied -growling suddenly muffled. I push my spine back into place with one -hand and spin around only to see Jasper hanging from the ledge of a -desk, his jaw wrapped around it and his teeth grinding into it as -if he imagined it to be my arm. I act quickly, sparing no mercy. -With several steps I come upon the helpless creature and I lift a -booted foot to hover a foot away from the back of its skull. - - +backwards almost parallel to the floor, and I hear its frenzied growling +suddenly muffled. I push my spine back into place with one hand and spin +around only to see Jasper hanging from the ledge of a desk, his jaw +wrapped around it and his teeth grinding into it as if he imagined it to +be my arm. I act quickly, sparing no mercy. With several steps I come +upon the helpless creature and I lift a booted foot to hover a foot away +from the back of its skull. ``Chew on this, pooch.'' - - -There is a loud, wet crack as its skull explodes like a balloon -filled with bones and blood. It's corpse falls silently to the -floor, followed by the lower half of his jaw and head. The top half -rests on top of the desk, firmly embedded into the wood. I curse -silently to myself and wipe my foot off on the carpet, leaving -behind a red smear flecked with hair and bits of bone. - - +There is a loud, wet crack as its skull explodes like a balloon filled +with bones and blood. It's corpse falls silently to the floor, followed +by the lower half of his jaw and head. The top half rests on top of the +desk, firmly embedded into the wood. I curse silently to myself and wipe +my foot off on the carpet, leaving behind a red smear flecked with hair +and bits of bone. All at once I come to my senses, and I turn to see Mrs. McCannshire standing at the bathroom door. For a second we both stand staring -wordlessly at each other, then she utters a soft cry and flees back -into the bathroom. I hear a soft click as she locks the door behind -her. +wordlessly at each other, then she utters a soft cry and flees back into +the bathroom. I hear a soft click as she locks the door behind her. +I sigh and walk over, knocking on the door. ``Mrs. McCannshire, I'm sorry +about Jasper, okay? I shouldn't have\ldots done that, but he was, I mean he +was attacking me. There was nothing else I could do.'' +I continued to apologize while I listened to her sobs, trying to look +anywhere but back at that head, or that part of it, those sightless eyes +silently judging me. I've killed people before in my line of work, and I +see their faces when I close my eyes, but now this mutt was getting to +me more than any of them ever did. It was an irritable little thing, but +why did it up and attack me like that? What did it see in that mirror? -I sigh and walk over, knocking on the door. ``Mrs. McCannshire, I'm -sorry about Jasper, okay? I shouldn't have{\ldots}done that, but he was, -I mean he was attacking me. There was nothing else I could -do.'' +I notice that the crying on the other side of the door has stopped, and +for a moment I feel relief. ``Mrs. McCannshire, if you can just come out +here we can talk about this. Again, I'm sorry about your dog, but--'' +I am interrupted by the click of the lock, and as the door slowly comes +ajar I help her open it. She stands there, head down, and she looks so +depressed that I can't help but resume my apologies. ``If there's +anything I can do to pay you back for what I did, you name it. I really +can't tell you how sorry I am, I'll get you a new dog, whatever you +want. I'm sure I\ldots{}'' +The look in her eyes when she raises her head is different than what +you'd think a hysterical old woman would have. They're more intelligent +than they were before, those eyes, and they seem to possess more menace +than I assume an old lady like that would be able to muster. -I continued to apologize while I listened to her sobs, trying to -look anywhere but back at that head, or that part of it, those -sightless eyes silently judging me. I've killed people before in my -line of work, and I see their faces when I close my eyes, but now -this mutt was getting to me more than any of them ever did. It was -an irritable little thing, but why did it up and attack me like -that? What did it see in that mirror? +One bony hand wraps around my throat with otherworldy strength, choking +off the rest of the sentence. She lifts me off my feet, pulls back, and +for a brief moment everything is serene. +Then I hit the wall. I slide down next to the open front door, and after +my eyes uncross and the black in front of my eyes goes away I use the +knob to pull myself up. I check for broken bones and don't find good +news in the ribs area, but other than that I am fine, if bruised. +``Well, you've got a good arm, I have to give you that.'' I think over my +options, running my tongue over my teeth. I can't hurt her; she's +obviously just possessed by whateve possessed that dog in the mirror. I +have to get the spirit out of her, or incapacitate her, but I don't know +how to perform exorcisms and at her age a gust of wind could kill +her. Although if she's able to throw like that maybe she's a lot +stronger in other ways too. What if I tied her up? -I notice that the crying on the other side of the door has stopped, -and for a moment I feel relief. ``Mrs. McCannshire, if you can just -come out here we can talk about this. Again, I'm sorry about your -dog, but--'' - - - -I am interrupted by the click of the lock, and as the door slowly -comes ajar I help her open it. She stands there, head down, and she -looks so depressed that I can't help but resume my apologies. ``If -there's anything I can do to pay you back for what I did, you name -it. I really can't tell you how sorry I am, I'll get you a new dog, -whatever you want. I'm sure I{\ldots}could{\ldots}uh{\ldots}'' - - - -The look in her eyes when she raises her head is different than -what you'd think a hysterical old woman would have. They're more -intelligent than they were before, those eyes, and they seem to -possess more menace than I assume an old lady like that would be -able to muster. - - - -One bony hand wraps around my throat with otherworldy strength, -choking off the rest of the sentence. She lifts me off my feet, -pulls back, and for a brief moment everything is serene. - - - -Then I hit the wall. I slide down next to the open front door, and -after my eyes uncross and the black in front of my eyes goes away I -use the knob to pull myself up. I check for broken bones and don't -find good news in the ribs area, but other than that I am fine, if -bruised. - - - -``Well, you've got a good arm, I have to give you that.'' I think -over my options, running my tongue over my teeth. I can't hurt her; -she's obviously just possessed by whateve possessed that dog in the -mirror. I have to get the spirit out of her, or incapacitate her, -but I don't know how to perform exorcisms and at her age a gust of -wind could kill her. Although if she's able to throw like that -maybe she's a lot stronger in other ways too. What if I tied her -up? - - - -Something makes my train of thought come to a screeching halt. It -hasn't reached the station, it's gone straight off the tracks. -There were no survivors. - - - -My brain is recieving messages my tongue shouldn't be sending. It's -not finding something that should be there. I grab a polished -silver cup off a table and flash my teeth at my reflection. There's -a black square where there should be a nice little white one. - +Something makes my train of thought come to a screeching halt. It hasn't +reached the station, it's gone straight off the tracks. There were no +survivors. +My brain is recieving messages my tongue shouldn't be sending. It's not +finding something that should be there. I grab a polished silver cup off +a table and flash my teeth at my reflection. There's a black square +where there should be a nice little white one. I've lost a tooth. - - This bitch is going to die. +I toss the cup and pull my piece, my finger already on the +trigger. Worse men talk about how their guns sing songs that only ever +have a few notes; that's played out, and anyway my Beretta never saw the +appeal in singing. It yells, and it only ever needs to raise its voice +once to win an argument with someone. - -I toss the cup and pull my piece, my finger already on the trigger. -Worse men talk about how their guns sing songs that only ever have -a few notes; that's played out, and anyway my Beretta never saw the -appeal in singing. It yells, and it only ever needs to raise its -voice once to win an argument with someone. - - - -As I aim down the sights at the old girl now barrelling towards me -from accross the room with a horrifying screech, I recall something -about not having ammunition, and I anticipate the empty little -click. Cursing wildly, I hurl the gun at her, and it bounces off -her forehead ineffectively. I reach for the knife strapped to my -leg down at my ankle, but it is too late; she knocks it out of my -hand with one swift strike just as I am bringing it up and it -clatters against the wall. She slams me up against the same patch -of wall that I'd said hello to twenty seconds ago and holds me at -arm's length against the wall, my head more than two feet higher -than hers and my feet off the ground clattering against the wall. -Both hands are wrapped around my neck and I am rapidly losing -oxygen. You need to do something now, I think. Or you're done, +As I aim down the sights at the old girl now barrelling towards me from +accross the room with a horrifying screech, I recall something about not +having ammunition, and I anticipate the empty little click. Cursing +wildly, I hurl the gun at her, and it bounces off her forehead +ineffectively. I reach for the knife strapped to my leg down at my +ankle, but it is too late; she knocks it out of my hand with one swift +strike just as I am bringing it up and it clatters against the wall. She +slams me up against the same patch of wall that I'd said hello to twenty +seconds ago and holds me at arm's length against the wall, my head more +than two feet higher than hers and my feet off the ground clattering +against the wall. Both hands are wrapped around my neck and I am rapidly +losing oxygen. You need to do something now, I think. Or you're done, Luke. You're done. +Frantically my hands search for something, anything, to fight her off +with, finding nothing. I'm simply too far off the ground to reach +anything. I turn my head as much as her steel fingers allow, and through +my darkening vision I can barely see an umbrella stand with one large +black umbrella in it. In vain I stretch my left hand towards the handle, +my fingers finding air and then brushing the handle. I strain as hard as +I can as the pain advances and my sight blackens, and suddenly I have a +grip, I grasp it with the very tips of my fingers, bring it up to my +hand. She is laughing now, piercing and mocking, delighting in her +triumph. She doesn't keep it up for long. I raise the umbrella high +above my head then stab it down into her open mouth and throat, pushing +it into her esophagus as she spits and gurgles, her hands clutching even +tighter at my neck. The handle is just past her teeth, my hand gripping +it firmly even as she bites into my wrist. I use my thumb to find the +release and push it up. +The umbrella is spring operated, the fabric edged with sharp metal. Her +neck evaporates in a cloud of blood and her head shoots up into the +hair, twirling in the air like a basketball and falling to the ground +with I and the rest of her body. -Frantically my hands search for something, anything, to fight her -off with, finding nothing. I'm simply too far off the ground to -reach anything. I turn my head as much as her steel fingers allow, -and through my darkening vision I can barely see an umbrella stand -with one large black umbrella in it. In vain I stretch my left hand -towards the handle, my fingers finding air and then brushing the -handle. I strain as hard as I can as the pain advances and my sight -blackens, and suddenly I have a grip, I grasp it with the very tips -of my fingers, bring it up to my hand. She is laughing now, -piercing and mocking, delighting in her triumph. She doesn't keep -it up for long. I raise the umbrella high above my head then stab -it down into her open mouth and throat, pushing it into her -esophagus as she spits and gurgles, her hands clutching even -tighter at my neck. The handle is just past her teeth, my hand -gripping it firmly even as she bites into my wrist. I use my thumb -to find the release and push it up. +After a while, coughing and wheezing, I push her corpse off of me and +use the blood-soaked umbrella to stand up. As soon as I try to walk +towards the nearest chair, I stumble and trip over her head. Standing up +again, I look back down at the bloody mess on the carpet and on me. I +feel bile rising in my throat, and I turn to run to the bathroom. +I push past the door and stagger to the sink, where I vomit noisily and +stand for a while, staring into this puddle of my own sick. After what +seems like forever I look up and into my reflection in the mirror. I am +hunched over the sink, my hands still grasping the sides, my mouth +hanging open and a thin trail of vomit hanging from my lower lip. My +eyes are wet with tears from the choking and the vomiting. +Truly I am a pitiful sight. I give myself a weak smile, as if it will +cheer me up. I can't help but notice that something is off in my +reflection, but I can't think what. Then I tongue the gap where my tooth +used to be. My reflection does not. It still has the full set. -The umbrella is spring operated, the fabric edged with sharp metal. -Her neck evaporates in a cloud of blood and her head shoots up into -the hair, twirling in the air like a basketball and falling to the -ground with I and the rest of her body. - - - -After a while, coughing and wheezing, I push her corpse off of me -and use the blood-soaked umbrella to stand up. As soon as I try to -walk towards the nearest chair, I stumble and trip over her head. -Standing up again, I look back down at the bloody mess on the -carpet and on me. I feel bile rising in my throat, and I turn to -run to the bathroom. - - - -I push past the door and stagger to the sink, where I vomit noisily -and stand for a while, staring into this puddle of my own sick. -After what seems like forever I look up and into my reflection in -the mirror. I am hunched over the sink, my hands still grasping the -sides, my mouth hanging open and a thin trail of vomit hanging from -my lower lip. My eyes are wet with tears from the choking and the -vomiting. - - - -Truly I am a pitiful sight. I give myself a weak smile, as if it -will cheer me up. I can't help but notice that something is off in -my reflection, but I can't think what. Then I tongue the gap where -my tooth used to be. My reflection does not. It still has the full -set. - - - -The reflection straightens its back and wipes the vomit away, dries -its eyes with the sleeve of its shirt, and all I can do is stare in -dumb incomprehension. It is the same short black hair, the same -baby blue eyes, the same trenchcoat, the same man, yet it moves of -its own free will. It is me and yet it is not me. - - - -It has an almost condecending look in its eyes as it reaches down -below the sink, to its ankle. It comes back up, my knife in its -hands, its knife, and I cannot move a muscle. - +The reflection straightens its back and wipes the vomit away, dries its +eyes with the sleeve of its shirt, and all I can do is stare in dumb +incomprehension. It is the same short black hair, the same baby blue +eyes, the same trenchcoat, the same man, yet it moves of its own free +will. It is me and yet it is not me. +It has an almost condecending look in its eyes as it reaches down below +the sink, to its ankle. It comes back up, my knife in its hands, its +knife, and I cannot move a muscle. There is a flash of metal. He cuts through my throat like -cheesecake. The arterial spray gives a good portion of the shitty -green paint job a new coat from the opposite side of the color -wheel. There is a brief sense of motion, and I taste ceramic, my -body thudding to the bathroom floor. I move my mouth wordlessly as -red begins to creep along the grout in between the white tiles. I -hear a shuffle of fabic as my other self steps through the mirror -and lowers himself from the sink to the floor. He steps over my -body, taking care to not step in the advancing pool of blood. - - +cheesecake. The arterial spray gives a good portion of the shitty green +paint job a new coat from the opposite side of the color wheel. There is +a brief sense of motion, and I taste ceramic, my body thudding to the +bathroom floor. I move my mouth wordlessly as red begins to creep along +the grout in between the white tiles. I hear a shuffle of fabic as my +other self steps through the mirror and lowers himself from the sink to +the floor. He steps over my body, taking care to not step in the +advancing pool of blood. My vision begins to cloud for the last time as he casts the knife absentmindedly down in front me. It slides to a halt next to my -forehead. He begins to walk towards the front door, then stops, -turns around. He walks cooly back to me, crouches in front of me, -grimacing at the blood that is in danger of soiling the knee of his -pants. He looks me in the eyes, and begins to say something, then -thinks better of it. He does nothing for a second, simply watches -me dying, then reaches over, placing an index and middle finger on -my eyelids, and then he slides them shut. - - +forehead. He begins to walk towards the front door, then stops, turns +around. He walks cooly back to me, crouches in front of me, grimacing at +the blood that is in danger of soiling the knee of his pants. He looks +me in the eyes, and begins to say something, then thinks better of +it. He does nothing for a second, simply watches me dying, then reaches +over, placing an index and middle finger on my eyelids, and then he +slides them shut. ``Good night, Luke.'' - - - diff --git a/stories/The_Bananana.Deja_Vu.tex b/stories/The_Bananana.Deja_Vu.tex index 8903035..5bbe5d8 100644 --- a/stories/The_Bananana.Deja_Vu.tex +++ b/stories/The_Bananana.Deja_Vu.tex @@ -2,136 +2,163 @@ \by{The Bananana} +Luke awoke in a bed. -Luke awoke in a bed. He stared at the ceiling and searched his mind -for his surroundings. He couldn't remember a thing. His head -ached, pounded as he struggled to sit up. He was in a clean white -room. +He stared at the ceiling; his head ached, pounded as he struggled to sit +up. He was in a clean white room. There was a noise. Familiar. Welcome. -Beneath the door drifted the smell of home. Of warm bread. Of eggs. -The sounds and clatter of morning seeped through as well. He swung -his legs over the side of the bed. His head was still aching, but -it was lessening. +The window, with drawn curtains yellowed with age, easily let light into +the room. The sun flooded the room, bouncing off the floor with a soft +mahogany glow, and gave the entire room a hospitable warmth. The +blanket, worn and frayed with use, was nonetheless comfortable, and only +added to the rooms ivory radiance. Beyond the tarnished brass rail +footboard was the only other thing in the room that wasn't. A black +door, defiant and bold, contrasted the pearlescent efforts of the rest +of the room. + +Beneath the door drifted the smell of home. Of warm bread. Of eggs. The +sounds and clatter of morning seeped through as well; of voices +murmuring, talking, laughing, accompanied by a symphony of pots and +pans. + +Luke swung his legs over the side of the bed. His head still ached, but +it was lessening; he still couldn't remember a thing, everything before +waking up just felt like a hazy dream. He searched the room for his +personal affects to no avail. No shoes or clothes, no wallet or keys, +and most importantly, no holster. + +He didn't like any of it but, at least for now, he felt in no real +danger, and decided to take a look around and see what he could find out +about\ldots about everything. He stood. -The sun's beams had warmed the floor. He stretched, lost his -balance, and feel back to the bed. He lay there, lying in the -light, when he began to listen. +He savored the feel of the sun warmed floor. He stretched, reaching for +the speckled ceiling before he lost his balance and feel back onto the +bed. He lay there, basking in the light, when he began to listen more +closely to the sounds behind the door. -A voice, He recognized it. Then another. He knew them both. +That voice. He recognized it! The other too! He knew them both. -No, he thought, he must be dreaming. +No, he thought. He had to be dreaming. There was no way he had heard +right. -He got up and turned towards the door. Behind him, through the -windows, the trees began dancing lightly in a sudden fresh -breeze. +He got up and turned towards the door. Behind him, through the window, +the trees began dancing lightly in a sudden fresh breeze. -He inched to the door, and reached for the knob, and recoiled in -pain, as the hot door burned his hand. +He stepped to the door, and reached for the knob. He felt a warm heat +radiating from the door. But the voices persisted. He had to know who +was just beyond the door. He grabbed the knob, and instantly recoiled in +pain as the burning hot steel bit into his hand. -``What are you doing'' asked a young boy from the corner -of the room, surprising Luke. +``What are you doing'' asked a young boy from the corner of the room. -He was small. Pale. He looked unwell. +He had startled Luke, and was lucky the cold steel of his Berretta wasn' +t weighing against his chest like it normally did. The child, no more +than 10 years old looked pale and unwell. He looked as though his mother +had dressed him for church, black Sunday suit, shined black shoes, even +his jet black hair looked as though it had been slicked back by an +overbearing mother. -``Wha{\ldots}who are you''? Luke said, studying the -stranger. +``Wha\ldots who are you? What am I doing here? Do\ldots Do you live +here, is this your home''? Luke said, studying the strange child. -``That wasn't part of the deal'' the boy -replied. +``That wasn't part of the deal'' the boy replied eerily un-phased by +Luke's questions. Deal? Luke didn't know what the kid was talking about. ``Don't open the door'' the boy warned. -Luke knew what was on the other side. His family. His wife. His -son. Sitting, waiting. Her red locks swaying and bouncing as she -prepared their breakfast. His boy, sitting at the table, his feet -dangling from the chair, smiling and laughing. +Luke knew what was on the other side. The voices he had heard, the +voices he could hear right now, were of his family. His wife. His +son. Sitting, waiting. He could hear them now, as he listened, he could +see them in his mind. Her red locks swaying and bouncing as she prepared +their breakfast. His boy, sitting at the table, his feet dangling from +the chair, smiling and laughing. -The young boy persisted. +The young boy continued. -Don't open the door.'' He said again. +``Don't open the door.'' He said again. The room grew dark. Luke looked outside, and watched as the trees now shook and swayed -violently amidst an angry grass sea, heaving beneath the dark sky, -as rain began to pelt the glass. +violently amidst an angry grass sea, heaving beneath the dark sky, as +rain began to pelt the glass. -``What are you doing here? Who are you?'' Luke tried -again. +``What are you doing here? Who are you?'' Luke tried again. -``You're not listening.'' the boy's eyes -narrowed and he continued, +``You're not listening.'' the boy's eyes narrowed and he carried on, +``Enjoy it. Lay back down this time. Stay and enjoy it.'' -``Enjoy it. Lay down this time. Stay and enjoy -it.'' - - - -The kid must have been sick. He wasn't making any +The kid must be sick, Luke thought to himself, he's not making any sense. -``I've got a son about your age, he's right in -there'' Luke said pointing to the door. +``I've got a son about your age, he's right in there'' Luke said +pointing to the door, trying to distract the child, ``Do you have any +friends? I'm sure my boy will play with you. Do you like pancakes? My +wife, she makes the best pancakes.'' -``Do you have any friends? I'm sure my boy will play -with you. Do you like pancakes? My wife, she makes the best -pancakes.'' +``Luke'', the boy cut him off, ``Your son and wife are dead. They've +been dead, since the fire. You know that. You know the deal. Stay +here. Enjoy it.'' -``Luke'', the boy cut him off, ``Your son and wife -are dead. They've been dead, since the fire. You know the -deal. Stay here. Enjoy it.'' +``What do you know about my wife and son? What do you mean they're +dead.'' He stared at the child, ``Boy, I know your sick but you can't +talk like that, it's not right. Listen, listen to them, can't you hear +them, they're in there right now, look I'll show you'' Luke turned to +the door. -``What do you know about my wife and son? What do you mean -they're dead.'' He stared at the child +``Please Luke,'' The boys face was unchanged, his voice placid but +firm. ``Don't open the do\ldots{}'' -``Boy, I know your sick but you can't talk like that, -it's not right. Listen, listen to them, can't you hear -them, they're in there right now, look I'll show -you'' Luke turned to the door. +``Hey!'' Luke yelled interrupting the boy, ``now I don't know what in +the hell you're going on about, but it ends right now. Get out of here +you sick freak, get out! Get ou-'' Luke searched for something to +threaten the boy with, grabbing a lamp that had been behind him, but he +turned back only to find the boy had disappeared, he was gone. -``Please Luke,'' The boys face was unchanged, his voice -placid but firm and sure. ``Don't open the -do{\ldots}'' +Luke rubbed his eyes. Had the boy really just vanished? It was +impossible. As he stood there wondering what had just happened, he +noticed that his head didn't hurt any more. He turned to search the +room again, search for the boy, search for his belongings. He looked out +the window. Outside the air was now enraged, thrashing about flinging +rain and debris everywhere. It made Luke more even more uneasy, but he +remembered the door, and he shook the feeling off. He reached once again +for the knob, as the roar filled his ears. -``Hey!'' Luke interrupted, ``now I don't know -what in the hell you're going on about, but it ends right -now. Get out of here you sick freak, get out''! And the boy -was gone. +He grasped the knob tightly preparing for the searing pain when suddenly +it was deafeningly quiet. He turned and looked back outside. It was +bright, very bright out, and the trees and sky were calm. The door was +cool to the touch, and Luke pulled open the door, eager to see his +family. -Luke rubbed his eyes. Had the boy really just vanished? As he -wondered what had just happened, he noticed that his head -didn't hurt any more. Outside the air was now enraged, -thrashing about flinging rain and debris everywhere. It made Luke -more even more uneasy, but he remembered the door, and he shook the -feeling off. He reached once again for the knob, as the roar filled -his ears. +Black. Charred wood. Everything, all of it, consumed. He steeped through +the crumbling doorway. -And he grasped the knob and suddenly it was deafeningly quiet. He -turned and looked back outside. It was bright, very bright out, and -the trees and sky were calm. The door was cool to the touch, and -Luke pulled open the door, eager to see his family. +A burnt frame stood in place of former walls; the ghastly skeleton now +surrounded all the ash and rubble that had been a home. Outside, +surrounding the house were people. Fire crews, emergency personnel, +neighbors, all of them just standing around the house, all of them just +silently, chillingly starring. Luke was standing in what used to be a +kitchen, when he recognized it. This was his house, this used to be his +home. Where the sink had been rose a pair of pipes, jagged and singed, +but sturdy and resilient. And then he saw them. Across the blackened +room lay the dark remains of a woman clutching a child. -Black. Charred wood. Everything, all of it, consumed. HE steeped -through the crumbling doorway. The burnt skeleton of walls now -surrounded all the ash and rubble that was once his home. Outside, -surrounding the house were hundreds of people, just starring. Near -the pipes where the sink had been, lay the dark remains of a woman -clutching a child. - -He couldn't breathe, he couldn't swallow. Grief and -sorrow were throttling him, and suddenly he let loose in heaving -spasms as he ran to his family. He knelt, sobbing, over what was -left of them. +He couldn't breathe, he couldn't swallow. Grief and sorrow were +throttling him, and suddenly he let loose in heaving spasms as he ran to +his family. He knelt, sobbing, over what was left of them. ``No'' he uttered -The crowd erupted in a bellowing barrage of whispers +The crowd erupted in a bellowing barrage of whispers that come from +everywhere and nowhere at once. Not on person's mouth was moving and +yet their voices were infinite, filling the air with an angry accusatory +heat. ``You did this'' @@ -143,68 +170,61 @@ The crowd erupted in a bellowing barrage of whispers ``They came for you'' -``No{\ldots}NO!'' Luke screamed, ``I couldn't -stop them{\ldots}'' +``No\ldots {\bf no!}'' Luke screamed, ``I couldn't stop them\ldots{}'' ``I tried to save them'', he continued. Amidst the churning crowd suddenly stood the boy again. -``I asked you not to open the door this time. I asked you to -stay on the other side.'' +``I asked you not to open the door this time. I asked you to stay on the +other side.'' -``I{\ldots}I tried to save them'' Luke sputtered -out +``I\ldots I tried to save them'' Luke sputtered out. -``No'' reasoned the boy, ``no, you damned them. You -dug too deep into our affairs; you stuck your nose in our business. -It was you that did this to your wife. To your son. You are -responsible.'' +``No'' reasoned the boy, ``no, you damned them. You dug too deep into +our affairs; you stuck your nose in our business. When we sent our men +here to fire the house, we sent them for you. It was you that did this +to your wife. To your son. You are responsible.'' -``I tried{\ldots}I came home{\ldots}the flames, they were -everywhere'' Luke carried on, distantly. +``I tried\ldots I came home\ldots the flames, they were everywhere'' Luke carried +on, distantly. -``There's more.'' Said the boy, -``there's more for you'' +``But don't worry. There's more.'' Said the boy, ``We have much more +for you'' -``No, it doesn't matter now'', Luke said sitting -up, looking at the boy +``No,'' Luke said sitting up, looking at the boy. ``it doesn't matter +now'' -His hollowed eyes and emotionless gaze should have terrified -Luke. +The child stared back with hollowed eyes and an emotionless gaze that +should have terrified Luke. -``You can't do anything to me now{\ldots}just kill me. -Kill me'' +``You can't do anything to me now\ldots just kill me. Kill me'' -The boy's brows furrowed, his face twisted, pulled and broke. -He smiled, and then began to laugh. +The boy's brows furrowed, his face twisted, pulled and broke. He +smiled, and then began to laugh. -``Kill you?'' He said regaining his composure, -``Why? Why would I kill you? No. We have something much worse -for you.'' And the crowd's accusing chants began to -bleed through the boy's speech. They screamed now. Angry, -haunting, they pierced through Luke's hands as he covered his -ears. +``Kill you?'' He said regaining his composure, ``Why? Why would I kill +you? No. We have something much worse for you.'' The crowd's maddening +chants began to bleed through the boy's speech. They seemed to scream +now, everyone of them and none of them at once. Angry, haunting howls +pierced through Luke's hands as he covered his ears. -``No, {\bf noo!}'' he screamed as he began to beat his head -against the rubble. But it did nothing to lessen the shrieking -crowd. He had to end it. He saw the pipe, sticking out of the -foundation. Its jagged end would easily drive through his -head. +``No, {\bf noo!}'' he screamed as he began to beat his head against the +rubble. But it did nothing to lessen the shrieking crowd. He had to end +it. He looked around and saw the pipe sticking out of the foundation. It' +ll do he thought. -He stood, the cries and screams still pursuing and punishing him. -He took a breath and slammed his head down. +He stood, the cries and screams still pursuing and punishing him. He +struggled over to the pipe, rusty and charred. He'd have to be +quick. He'd only get one chance. He took a breath and slammed his head +down. +Luke awoke in a bed. +He stared at the ceiling; his head ached, pounded as he struggled to sit +up. He was in a clean white room. -Luke awoke in a bed. He stared at the ceiling and searched his mind -for his surroundings. He couldn't remember a thing. His head -ached, pounded as he struggled to sit up. He was in a clean white -room. - -There was a noise. Familiar. Welcome. - - +There was a noise. Familiar. Welcome.