From the Belly of the Goat

by Donald Armfield

  “Kimsworth and myself can help you pack all the expensive goods into your vehicle. You'll have to bring them home with you tonight.”

  “I lost them, sir,” Kimsworth says, coming back out from the alley. “Damn those things can run!”

  “We will get them, Kimsworth,” Strokes says. “Let's help Freya pack all the expensive goods into her jeep so she can get home for the night.”

  Browerville

  Barrows, Alasaka

  November 19, 2009

  10:43 PM

  The trolls stand in the middle of street sniffing the open air, steam rises off their bodies as the snow melts to the touch. “Smell children,” the male-troll says. Grabbing hold of his significant troll-woman's hand and guiding her in the direction of the scent. The blinding white-out conditions have no effect on the trolls as they find their way down the quiet street.

  Anna and Vincent Shultz are expecting their first child. Anna is in her third trimester and plans on telling her husband tonight, that he should start planning on working closer to home, as the time gets closer to the big day. She is a little worried on his response. Her husband, Vincent Shultz is a hardworking man, spending most of his time crossing the tundra with trailers filled with oil. He works for five days straight, long days running into the next day, sometimes. With only two days off, Vincent uses his time to read by the fire or enjoy a morning breakfast with his wife. Anna is always very happy when he is home. Vincent throws more wood into the fireplace. “Let's get that movie rolling, honey,” Vincent says.

  “I bought a few new ones earlier today when I went into to town,” Anna says. “I'll go get them I believe I left them on the counter top in the kitchen.”

  Anna walks along the carpet forcing an extra sway in her hips, looking over her shoulders to see if her husband is watching. She stops in front of the counter top and removes her yoga pants, leaving them on the floor in the kitchen. With just her shirt on, Anna walks back into the living room with video discs in hand. Anna bends over in front of the disc player seductively, making sure she shows her naked lower half.

  “Damn girl, why even bother with the movie?” Vincent walks over to his wife and scopes her off her feet and says, “I'll be taking you to the bedroom instead tonight.” Anna smiles and leans in and kisses her husband aggressively.

  In the bedroom, Vincent playfully kisses and bites Anna's inner-thigh, running his tongue up to her vagina. Vincent slowly licks around her clitoris, teasing her with the tip of his tongue. Anna arches her back and begins grinding against her husband's face. Vincent grabs his wife by the hips and gets in a sitting position. Placing his wife upon his lap and letting his fully erect penis slide in slowly, Anna begins to moan loudly.

  The trolls track their scent, to the Shultz's back porch. Surprisingly this scent is masked inside a womb. Despite the strong sense of smell from the trolls, this is exactly what the trolls mean when they say, “more baby.”

  The male-troll finds the sliding door. With one pull it snaps open and the two trolls walk into the house. They stop in the middle of the living room, sniffing the air. The trolls follow the small hallway to the slightly ajar bedroom door. The male-troll pushes the door open. Vincent is on top of Anna slowly penetrating her with his penis. The male-troll walks up to the bed and grabs Vincent's head. With a handful of hair, the troll tosses Vincent across the room like a rag doll. Vincent slams against the wall and his head bounces off the corner of the burrow with a loud crack. Anna is screaming loudly as the female-troll approaches her bedside. The female-troll pinches Anna's lips closed with her large bulky fingertips, while rubbing her own belly with her free hand and says, “Baby's belly.”

  The male-troll approaches the bedside too. He points his index finger into the air and a long sharp claw shoots out the tip of his finger. Anna starts to whimper louder, moving her head side to side, trying to break free from the troll's hold over her lips. Without hesitation the male-troll slices through Anna's skin, carving around her stomach in a circular motion. Anna's whimper turns to muffled screams. The troll peels Anna's skin back, like a piece of wallpaper. He pulls the fetus out of her womb and holds it into the air. His eyes follow the umbilical cord to where it's still connected. He puts his mouth over the umbilical cord and bites down. It snaps and falls onto Anna's mutilated stomach. The male-troll passes the fetus to his female companion and she quickly swallows the fetus with one gulp. “Baby's, home now,” she says. Anna's screaming goes horse from the screaming before she coughs up blood. The female-troll grabs a handful of Anna's hair and drives her fist through the side of Anna's head and tearing her brains out and lying them beside Anna's head. The male-troll reaches out to hold hands with his companion and they exit into the blistering cold the same way they came in.

  The neighbors hear all the commotion and call the authorities. “911, what your emergency?” The operator on the other end of the line answers.

  “My neighbors, are yelling,” Mrs. Gladstone, tells the operator. “It sounds like someone is killing them and two strange creatures just made their way up the hills into the NARL District.”

  “Ma'am, Help is on the way,” the operator replies.

  Mrs. Gladstone hangs up the phone and runs over to her living room window to double check on the creature's departure and wait for the authorities to arrive.

  Downtown

  Barrows, Alaska

  November 19, 2009

  11:36 PM

  “We have a 415 in progress,” the dispatcher chimes in over the radio. “North end of Stevenson Street. Sheriff Strokes, what is your current location?”

  “Roger that,” Strokes responses. “I got an ETA of about six minutes, ten-four”

  Kimsworth and Sheriff Strokes jump in their patrol vehicle and spin the tires making a one-hundred-eighty-degree turn. The brakes lock up and Kimsworth, takes his foot off the brake pedal, looks out in front of him and says, “Sheriff, Isn't that the Morse Brothers?”

  “Well, I'll be dammed. How did they get out?” Strokes opens the passenger side door of the patrol vehicle and yells, “You two get in! I have a feeling your troll buddies are causing some mayhem in the north end of town.”

  Hayden and Jonas look at each other and shrug. A warm vehicle or a night in a cell was better than trying to make it home in the cold on foot.

  NARL District, Borders

  Barrows, Alaska

  November 19, 2009

  11:57 PM

  Kimsworth parks the patrol vehicle along the curbside of the Shultz residents. Officer Kimsworth and Sheriff Strokes walk up the stairs to the front porch of the Shultz residence. Hayden and Jonas come running up behind them. “And what the fuck do you think you two are doing?” Strokes asks.

  “Hey, we are grown men,” Jonas says. “And if those trolls are inside, you're going to need as much man power as possible.”

  “Why do I have a feeling that this is just another one of your pranks?” Strokes says, while opening the unlocked door of the Shultz home.

  The living room area has no signs of a break-in, besides the wide-open sliding porch door. Officer Kimsworth walks over and closes it. Sheriff Strokes follows the dimly-lit hallway leading to the Shultz bedroom. He walks over to Anna lying in her bed. The bed sheets are drenched in blood and Anna's brains lay on the pillow beside her. Strokes turns his attention to Mr. Shultz, lying in an awkward position by the burrow. Strokes crotches down by Mr. Shultz and checks for a pulse. “We got an alive one here!” he yells out. “Kimsworth call for an ambulance.” Hayden walks into the room and notices the bed spread drenched in blood. Hayden chews back an urge to vomit, then quickly exits the room.

  “This is brutal, sir,” Hayden says, from the hallway.

  “I agree, and to the say the least no thanks to you and your brother.”

  “Sir, in all due respect the troll creatures were already showing signs of life when Jonas and I found them.”

  “Will you stop with the trolls. I have a dead body on my watch, a woman bleedi
ng her guts out and a missing fetus. You two have definitely screwed the Eskimo with this one.”

  “Sir?” Officer Kimsworth says, standing in the door way of the bedroom. “I think they may be telling the truth. The size of these footprints heading up the hills from the back porch don't look to be human.”

  The sound of the wailing ambulance comes rushing down Stevenson Street. The EMTs hustle their way into the house. Hayden moves out of the way but still gets a rude bump from Sheriff Strokes. “You better hope this is not some stupid fairy tale you two whipped up,” Sheriff says, crossing through the hallway and back into the living room. He makes his way to the sliding door and shines his flashlight into the darkness. The size of the bare-foot impressions in the snow declare they are unhuman-like. Sheriff Strokes closes the sliding door and says, “Kimsworth call in for a surveillance team. I want this place scoped for anything out of the ordinary. And no one goes in the backyard, we will be going into the hills come morning. I'm not freezing my prick off in this cold.”

  “Gotcha, sir,” Kimsworth says.

  “As for you two. You better get a good night's rest because you are coming along for the journey,” Strokes says, looking at the Morse brothers.

  Downtown

  Barrows, Alaska

  November 30, 2009

  1:00 PM

  The below-freezing temps from the previous weeks made it impossible to hunt down the trolls. During that time off, Sheriff Strokes came to terms with the fact he was, actually up against creatures and not some make believe folklore created by the Morse Brothers. The journal the brothers found is nothing but a discarded mess of words. Strokes can't make any sense of it, and oddly he still doesn't believe he is up against such creatures. The only thing on Stroke's mind right now is to track down the trolls and end this madness. Killing people, snatching a woman's fetus right out her belly, this is some sick twisted shit and it's not going down in his city.

  “We have a little bit of twilight coming our way in a few hours,” Jonas said. “If we can get the trolls into that small amount of sunlight they may just return to stone.

  “But these past weeks,” Kimsworth says. “the footprints have vanished, covered by the snowfall. How do you suppose we find those trolls now?”

  “Hayden and myself have been in the southern section a handful of times,” Jonas begins, “We found them in the South Smalls Lagoon section of the mountains, in a cave. I have it circled here on this map. They may have returned there?

  “And how do you suppose we draw them out of the cave?” Sheriff Strokes asks.

  “If one of us can get our hands on an iron blade,” Hayden says. “Trolls can't touch iron, it's like a poison to them.”

  “Who needs a sword,” Kimsworth cuts in, “I have my shotgun and plenty of ammo. A few shots to their craniums, I'm sure will lay them to rest.”

  “Make that two shotguns,” Strokes says. “Pack the patrol truck, it's time for a “Rock & Roll Fantasy” for these trolls; and their bad company.”

  Kimsworth smirks at the reference and sings his own tune, “the sun upon my skin, like a rock.” Sheriff Strokes, gives him the rock on finger salute, as he closes the door.

  South Smalls Lagoon

  Barrows, Alaska

  November 30, 2009

  2:00 PM

  Thirty minutes until twilight...

  The wind has died down to a quiet whistle, the skies are crisp and cloudless. The glowing moon illuminates off the surrounding snow. The Morse Brothers stop at the mouth of a cave. Kimsworth and Strokes look fatigued as they approach Hayden and Jonas. “We should've run through here with a plow,” Kimsworth complains. “Fuck, if those stupid trolls came out of the caves, I would've just plowed their asses straight to hell.”

  “Would you shut up,” Jonas says in a dull whisper.

  “FIRE IN THE HOLE!” Sheriff Strokes yells.

  “What the fuck!” Jonas dives out of the way.

  A cloud of smoke pours from the mouth of the cave. The male-troll comes running out, “No baby,” it yells in its bellowed tone.

  “Shoot the fucking thing, Kimsworth!” Sheriff Strokes yells.

  Kimsworth fires four shots from his shotgun. The troll lurches backwards and looks down at Kimsworth; the bullets only seem to have a mild effect on the creature. “We should've planned this out better,” Kimsworth yells. Strokes walks directly behind the troll and fires three shots point blank into the back of its head. The troll lets out a growl and turns around. Grabbing Strokes by his neck, the troll raises him a few inches off the ground. Strokes just dangles there, losing his breath quickly.

  “How ‘bout a little slice from an iron dagger, you piece of shit,” Hayden says, slashing the giant troll along its lower-back.

  The iron dagger singes the troll's skin and it releases Strokes. Strokes gasps for air, rolling around frantically in the snow. The troll growls louder at Jonas, blowing his hair like a gust of wind. “You need to shut your fucking mouth,” Hayden yells, jumping up and driving the iron dagger into the back of the troll's neck. The troll begins to gag and reaches for the dagger lodged in its neck. The male-troll gets his large hand around the handle of the dagger, but sags to its knees and with one last blink falls face down in the snow.

  “Well that was fucking intense,” Kimsworth says, “That felt like some low-budget movie fight scene.”

  “It ain't over yet,” Jonas says, “We still have the fat pregnant bitch to slay.”

  Hayden walks over to the troll and steps on the back of its head. He grabs the handle of the dagger and pulls the blade out of the troll's neck. “I thought you got rid of that old dagger years ago,” Jonas says. Hayden turns to his brother and smiles, “One of few things I held onto from our adventures,” Hayden says, wiping the troll's blood off down the length of his pant leg. Jonas smiles at the matter, that his brother is more than just a whiner and maybe he is a fighter after all.

  Jonas rushes over to the mouth of the cave, a cloud of smoke still lingers by the opening. He hears loud moaning inside. Hayden comes up behind him and flicks on a flashlight. The female-troll is lying on her back with her knees up, breathing heavy. A pile of oozing blood is pouring out of her vagina. “How the hell is this thing giving birth?” Jonas says, “Didn't the Sheriff say that Anna was only like a month into her pregnancy?”

  “She is most definitely giving birth,” Hayden says.

  “Strokes, get your ass in here and look at this,” Jonas yells.

  The Sheriff makes his way into the cave, rubbing his injured neck. Kimsworth steps in behind him. “Let nature run its course,” Strokes says, “Hell, then we can bring the baby back. I'm sure we can find it a better home.”

  “I don't know Sheriff,” Jonas says, staring at the female-troll, who has no idea that her significant other just suffered its demise. “According to the journal; the blood of the troll-woman will mix with the swallowed fetus...”

  “Will you shut up about that damn journal,” The Sheriff cuts Jonas off. “That journal is so poorly written; I don't know what to believe. But I do know we have a troll, giving birth to a human's swallowed fetus.”

  “Then we stab the troll-woman in the face and kill the little abomination as well,” Hayden says. Strokes and Kimsworth looks over at Hayden with a disgust. Jonas holds back a smile, at his brother's manly gesture, and the fact that he is finally growing some balls.

  The troll-woman lets out another loud scream. Her vaginal hole expands and out comes a baby. Hayden wastes no time. He runs over to the female-troll and drives the dagger into her eye socket. The female-troll lets out a deathly scream, that echoes off the walls of the cave. Even in the dim lighting of his brother's flashlight, Hayden watches the female-troll's other eye flutter a few times then close shut.

  Officer Kimsworth turns on his flashlight and approaches the crying baby lying in a puddle of blood and troll placenta juices. “Well, it's a boy,” Kimsworth says.

  “Let's get it back to the hospital,” Strokes says. “We
can have the doctors look it over.”

  “So much for the need of twilight,” Hayden says, as he spins the dagger in his hand. “I was a little skeptical on the whole twilight effect on the trolls anyways.”

  Strokes scoops up the newborn, and tucks it into his unbuttoned jacket as he heads for the entrance. The other three follow behind him.

  Simmonds Memorial Hospital

  Barrows, Alaska

  November 30, 2009

  4:45 PM

  “Well boys, I owe you an apology,” Sheriff Strokes begins. “One of your overelaborated stories has finally come true.”

  “It's all good Sheriff,” Hayden says. “My brother and I were thinking of heading out of town for a while. Maybe we'll hunt something else down. Heck, there are probably other monsters out there that needs to meet their makers.”

  “You guys, did good,” Kimsworth says, holding his hand out. Hayden reaches out with his hand and shakes Kimsworth's.

  Jonas returns from the vendor machine with a package of chips. He reaches out to shake Kimsworth's hand. “I had a blast guys,” Jonas says, “Thanks for not believing us. Next time you'll take a call like this a little more serious, huh?”

  “Oh, you know you boys came out with all sorts of shit in the past,” Sheriff Strokes says.

  With one last nod of appreciation, Hayden and Jonas left through the sliding doors of the hospital into the remaining hours of twilight. Another couple more weeks of polar night still lied up ahead, but the brothers were off to another state, who knows what may be out there?

  Sheriff Strokes and Officer Kimsworth take one more walk down the corridor to the nursery. Strokes stands by the windows and watches the newborn suck away on its pacifier. “Sleeping, ever so soundly,” Strokes says.