mirror of https://github.com/nealey/Horrors2
109 lines
3.6 KiB
TeX
109 lines
3.6 KiB
TeX
\chapauth{Paracetamol Boy}
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\chapter{The Smile}
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{\em Narrated by Luke Bavarius}
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I woke to a darkened room. The streetlights outside my window cast
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eerie shadows onto the floor. My mouth tasted carpet. My entire
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body was immobilised with searing pain. I managed, with great
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difficulty, to turn my swollen face toward my left. The living area
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was littered with broken furniture.
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So it had come to this. My wife had taken the kids and left me for
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dead in what was once our family apartment in the central hub of
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New York City. Blood seeped out the open wounds of my trunk and
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saturated my dark blue clothing with an even darker sheen. There
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the knife lay still, blade digging into the carpet in front of my
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face. My own knife, that my own wife had turned on me.
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I could hear the soft wails of the police sirens from the streets
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below. That was the least of my worries. Despite my dizzied state,
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my thoughts drifted to my lovely kids, Johnny and Sasha. I wondered
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if I would see them again, if they were safe. The steadily
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loudening sirens registered faintly in the back of my mind{\ldots}
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Suddenly, I had a flash of mental clarity. It was the insight of a
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dying man. I could not fight to live. I had lost too much blood,
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the evidence of this mixing with the contents of my voided bladder
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and slowly pooling around me like a seeping fountain of death. I
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was a broken man. There was the chance an arterial bypass would
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keep me alive, but even if I lived there was nothing to live for. I
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didn't want to let anyone else think otherwise for me.
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The knife was only inches from my face. My good arm, my left arm,
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could move but only with mind-numbing pain. Slowly, agonizingly, I
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brought the arm closer and closer toward the knife. I grasped its
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handle and lifted it from the carpet. Each action was excruciating.
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But pain is only temporary, for in death there is the ultimate
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release. My thoughts drifted again to Johnny and Sasha, as I used
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every ounce of my remaining strength to roll onto my back. I
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positioned the knife in front of my chest and closed my
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eyes{\ldots}
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``Daddy.'' I recognised the voice and opened my eyes. In the dark, I
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could see two small silhouettes sitting cross-legged beside
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me.
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``Johnny?''
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The silhouette on the left nodded at me and smiled. The smile had
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no lips, only teeth. I shook.
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``Daddy, what are you doing?'' the shadow on the right enquired
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meekly. Sasha?
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``Daddy{\ldots} daddy's going away for a while,'' I whispered. The knife
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was still in my hand, in front of my chest, frozen in place.
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``Look{\ldots} daddy can't be with you guys for very long anymore. I won't
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be alive for long{\ldots} I must go.''
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``But you can't go, Daddy.'' The silhouette on the left was still
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smiling, the white of his teeth glowing eerily in the darkness. ``If
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you go{\ldots}I'll eat Sasha.'' The teeth spread to a grin.
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``Johnny,'' I gasped. As I looked on, Johnny's grin seemed to
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grow wider and wider. The rows of teeth separated to form a hole between
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them, and the hole widened to a yawning chasm of unfathomable
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darkness. A different voice emanated from the hole. ``Daddy,'' it
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drawled. ``If you go{\ldots} I'll eat Sasha.''
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Still in immense pain, I balked, speechless, at the two shadows in
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front of me, one sitting silently, the other leering at me, teeth
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as far apart as a basketball, face torn apart by a chasm.
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My vision blurred and it became increasingly difficult to breathe.
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The knife dropped from my hand. Between ragged breaths, I gasped
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weakly. ``Johnny{\ldots} you have your mother's smile.''
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Then, as suddenly as they had appeared, the silhouettes were gone,
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leaving only the space they had occupied.
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I wept bitterly.
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