The Skin Show

by Kristopher Rufty

  Syphoned dry like an empty juice pouch!

  Opening her mouth to scream, she was silenced by a wrenching moist tear. Slowly, she turned to her left where another winged being crouched over a body. This corpse belonged to a female; though the only evidence Karen had of this were the red viscera humps where breasts should be. The creature held out a pelt of skin, the backside coated in blood as if it was red adhesive, before her like it was a dress she was contemplating purchasing. Lemon-colored hair dangled from the top of a rubbery head that now looked more like a cheap mask.

  Karen bit her tongue to hold another scream in. So far, nobody had noticed she was awake and moving around. She wanted to keep it that way. Shaking her head, she tried to fight the numbing shock wanting to suppress her. If she didn’t try to ignore the absurdity of what she’d seen, it would lock her senses up. That almost sounded all right, but it wouldn’t do her any good if she became incoherent.

  Scanning the men suspending from the totem like ticks from a dog’s ear, she didn’t see Andy among them. She prayed he wasn’t one of the bodies. In the quick glimpse she’d gotten of them, she didn’t think any looked like him…not that any of them showed semblance to any kind of human.

  Where are you Andy?

  Finding him was what she needed to do. Find him…then get the hell out of this awful place.

  Doing that would require her to go through the gross frolicking in front of her.

  No way.

  She turned a quick circle, giving the rest of the room a look over. There was the big bay window to her right, blocked with flat panels of wood. Maybe she could break it down and bust the window.

  With what? Her hands? And suppose she got the barricade down, what would she do about the bars on the outside?

  If I stand here trying to find a way out, I’ll never find Andy.

  Karen looked away from the window, eyes landing on the stage. She saw the curtain that must lead backstage. Could Andy be back there?

  She gave a quick glance behind her, saw nobody had spotted her, and quickly moved to the stage. She stepped onto it. The floor of the stage was wooden and popped as she walked softly but hurriedly to the curtain. With each step, she planted her foot carefully, keeping the pressure to the front. She felt like she was in a Scooby-Doo cartoon, sneaking through hidden corridors in search of clues.

  Maybe if she imagined she was in a cartoon, it wouldn’t feel as terrifying.

  The monsters were really bad guys in masks and there were trap doors…

  It was pointless—and silly—to play make believe.

  The curtain was rough and thick, stale with the stench of old smoke. She found the split, then slipped through. The curtain fell together behind her. She was glad to have those awful squelchy sounds and gratified moans somewhat muffled.

  It was dark back here, the only light being from an emergency bulb plugged in an outlet. Its red glow cast a demonic smolder across the cinder block walls. Other than a folding table and some wooden chairs, there was nothing back here.

  Wait…that wasn’t true. She spotted a narrow slant, lightly pink amongst the murky red shadows. A door? It certainly looked like a door.

  Though the safety light was a low wattage deal, it gave her just enough light to see by. She crossed the room without any trouble—not that there was anything to worry about tripping over. The floor was bare, dusty but clean of debris.

  Arriving at the other wall, her assumptions were proven correct. It was a door. A small bronze sign above it stated: Basement.

  Now what?

  Should I try it? What are the chances of the door being unlocked?

  The knob was small and oval-shaped, a keyhole underneath. It reminded her of the old fragile doors in her grandmother’s house. Even if the door was locked, she shouldn’t have any trouble getting it open.

  But, there was no need for alarm. When she tried the knob, it turned effortlessly in her hand. The latch clicked as the tongue was extracted from the catch.

  Checking over her shoulder, she saw nobody approaching. She was still alone back here. The door opened inward. She kept pushing until the knob on the backside met the wall. Inching closer, she looked inside.

  A set of cellar stairs led down. Only the first few were illuminated in the red light. The rest were smothered in darkness. She didn’t have a flashlight, but she could probably use the screen on her phone to see by. Reaching for her purse, she felt nothing hanging beside her. Her fingers brushed her hip.

  “Shit,” she gasped.

  She’d left her purse back at the table, under her chair.

  Karen wanted to hit herself for being so stupid. Everything was in her purse: cell phone, wallet, keys, and all her credit cards—which were way too many for a reasonable person to own. Her license, with her home address printed underneath a horrible picture of herself. The image she’d been forced to carry around was taken just as a yawn struck. Her mouth was starting to part, and one eye was squinted while the other remained wide. She looked like she was having a stroke when the officer had snapped the picture.

  Karen needed her purse. She couldn’t just leave it behind.

  Turning around, putting her back to the basement, she gazed across the room. The curtain was a ruffled dark wall ahead of her. Remembering what was on the other side made her want to remain where she was. The lightless basement seemed a more pleasant place than what was out there.

  Still…she couldn’t leave without her purse.

  Karen took a step forward. She would have gone all the way had she not heard the soft, painful cry coming from the dark bowels of the basement.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  “Please let us go!”

  The supplicant whine froze Karen in mid-stride. A cold squirmy feeling tickled her stomach.

  A woman’s voice.

  Maybe Karen hadn’t really heard it, and her ears were tricking her. When she used to go camping with her dad, sometimes she would think she’d heard someone talking in the dark woods. Dad told her it was the combination of the wind blowing through the trees and sighs of the forest critters. Add that to the active imagination of a child, you’d get human voices.

  There aren’t any trees down there…critters maybe, but definitely no wind or trees.

  “Please don’t!”

  Another voice. The same alarmed tone, but not the same person, for sure.

  Karen turned around, stepping through the doorway, and peering down into the basement. She almost called out to them, but stopped herself. Doing that would announce her location. What if the people down there were in trouble? What if Andy was one of them?

  Right now, she had surprise on her side. If she was quiet enough, she might be able to sneak up on whatever was going on.

  Might even be able to help.

  Her purse forgotten, Karen started to go down. She stopped. Could this be a trick?

  She shook her head. If they wanted to nab her, they’d just do it. She doubted they’d go through elaborate means to trap her. There were people down there, and Andy was probably one of them.

  Taking a deep breath, Karen stepped down on the first rung. Felt it bow slightly under her weight. There was a squeaky groan as she lifted her right foot to put it on the next step.

  Panicked chatter resounded from the darkness below. She could hear harsh squeals, mad bursts of words in gasping breaths growing fainter. As if they were being taken farther away from Karen.

  How big was the basement? Unsure, she needed to put speed to her movements, or it might be too late by the time she reached them.

  Karen put both feet down on the last step in the small tarn of light, taking a deep breath as she raised her right foot. Toes out, she twisted her foot around, trying to find the next step. She felt nothing but air. Leaning forward, keeping her shoulder against the wall for balance, she nudged the dark with her shoe. Still nothing.

  The vision of ghostly white hands reaching up from the darkness for her ankle appeared so vividly in her head that she thoug
ht she’d actually seen it happen. Snatching back her foot, she fell back. Her rump smashed the edge of the step, slipped off, and landed on the step she’d been standing on. The impact jarred her, clapping her teeth together.

  Son of a bitch!

  She slammed her fists down on the wooden plank, sending another jarring burst of pain through her. Tears filled her eyes. Salty heat streamed down her cheeks.

  “Great…” she muttered.

  Karen felt like a fool for spooking herself. There had been no hands of any kind groping for her feet. She backhanded the tears away with her throbbing hands. As she started to stand, an idea came to her. To avoid another fall, she might be better off scooting the rest of the way down.

  Like a little kid going down stairs…

  She’d feel ridiculous, and probably look it, too, but it would work. So, that was what she did. A wedge of tongue poking out the corner of her mouth, she scooted. There were momentary bouts of anxiety when her rump left the support of a plank, followed by a soft jolt when it found the next one down.

  Soon, her knees bumped concrete in front of her. The wall. She reached out, fingers brushing scratchy coolness. Patting around her, her hands felt over the lip of the step, wiped cement, some dust, and small twigs and leaves.

  The basement.

  Listening, she detected the frenzied cries to her right, much softer.

  Running out of time.

  Getting to her feet was more painful than she expected. Her rump ached, making her lower back feel compacted and sore. For some reason, her neck felt awfully tight and she could feel a headache developing. Rolling her shoulders, she hoped to work away the pinching bulge between her shoulder blades. It helped some, but not enough to make her feel any better.

  Karen turned toward the voices. More darkness ahead of her, but she could see a faint guttering of orange on the far side of the room to the left. Using that as her beacon, she headed in that direction.

  Then her shin cracked something hard. She stumbled a few steps, her shoes making scuffing sounds on the dirty floor. Its pointed tip made her think what she struck was a crate of some kind. Her skirt wasn’t quite long enough to shield her skin from the pain. And, even if it was, she doubted it was thick enough to stop the hurt. She could feel warm fluid trickling down her shin.

  Great, now I’m bleeding. Going to kill myself before I even get to them.

  Andy better appreciate the hell she was going through. Maybe later, when they were far away from this awful place, he could aid her wounds. Patch her up. She smiled at the thought, and found herself really hoping it would happen.

  Karen walked the rest of the way without trouble. Reaching the end of the strip, she stopped where the light reached around the corner. She stepped through an opening and stopped a couple steps in.

  My God…

  The wall had been knocked down and a narrow passage excavated through the ground, distending endlessly. Feebly illuminated by the walls themselves—glowing and dissolving in a variety of tawdry colors—the walls looked like multi-patterned crusts, filtered and flashing. Far ahead of her she could see a small group of creatures like the one they’d seen outside. She remembered thinking a talented professional was in a costume and wanted to laugh at how wrong she had been.

  At first glimpse, she thought capes were emanating from their backs, but as she strained to examine farther, she realized it was clothing. Women inside the clothing. Bowed over the creatures’ shoulders, they pounded at their backs, shrieking and crying. The hapless victims were being carted off to parts unknown. Thinking back to the skinned woman upstairs, Karen understood the future was bleak for them.

  A blonde raised both her fists into the air and was about to slam them down on a creature’s back when she spotted Karen. Gasping, she froze, her arms poised above her.

  Holding up her hands, Karen tried signaling for Blondie to be quiet. Either she didn’t understand Karen’s caricaturing capabilities, or she just didn’t care, because she started screaming for Karen’s help.

  The creature’s stopped in unison, slowly turning around in a synchronized motion. Six pairs of beady red eyes locked on her.

  Karen felt herself shrink inside. “Oh…shit…”

  Their mouths stretched, yawning unnaturally wide to release embellished roars. Even from at least thirty feet away, Karen felt the heat of their growls buffeting against her, blowing her hair back.

  Karen staggered back a couple steps, stumbling over her feet as another round of deep menacing growls erupted from nearby. Wild shadows danced across the dimly lit walls to the rear.

  They’re coming down the stairs.

  Realizing she was about to be sandwiched in the basement with monsters on both sides, she ran. Away from the tunnel, back to where the actual basement had ended.

  A growl came again, followed by another. Separate growls that Karen could feel juddering her deep inside. Even her lungs seemed to be trembling.

  Then something clicked in Karen’s head. Something she’d forgotten all about…

  My gun.

  She’d left it under Andy’s backseat. Sugar said she couldn’t bring it inside, so she’d tucked it under there, hoping she wouldn’t need it. Now she did, and she wanted to kick herself for not sneaking it in.

  They scanned us at the door with a metal detector…

  The gun would have been confiscated. At least in Andy’s car it was still available.

  If only she could get to it.

  Standing on the other side of the busted down wall, Karen looked around. At first, all she could see were the blocks of dark basement. As her eyes struggled to adjust, she could make out a section jutting out from the right. She ran for it, not knowing what she would do when she got there.

  Karen bumped against the wall. She’d reached the other side of this tight space. She looked around. To her left she could vaguely make out the pale blocky surface of a cinder blocked wall. But, to her right, all she could see was blackness.

  Maybe I can hide.

  The scraping of feet on concrete…

  No time to hide. Karen ran to the right, not knowing if there was anything for her at the other end. A brisk moment later, her feet got tangled in something flimsy and thin. From the knees down it felt as if she were being bitten by stinging mouths as her legs locked up. Her momentum carried her forward. She landed in a heap of discarded barbwire. Strands tousled around her like the oral arms of a jellyfish. The barbs slit her hands and arms as she shoved at them to get back up. The pain was agonizing as the slashes mixed with her sweat.

  The more she struggled, the more tangled she became. Drowning in her fear, screaming and wriggling, she inched along. Barbs sliced and pricked her as she crawled forward. Her arm came free, reaching out madly. She expected a hand to grab her forearm as she wiggled through. None did.

  Her palm slapped cool concrete. Karen squealed with mad delight.

  Then her skirt got hung up on the fence and she started to scream cuss words. Snarls cut them off. Whatever had produced them sounded very close. Grabbing a handful of skirt, she yanked with all she had. It ripped away, throwing her onto her side. As she rolled, her skin ignited with blazing stings from the piercing barbs.

  Her hip jabbed the concrete floor and she rolled onto her back. A section of her skirt dangled from the tip of a barbwire bundle. Her right leg was bare from the middle of her thigh down.

  Karen gazed over the lake of barbwire to the glowing monsters on the other side. These were also like the one she’d seen outside. Now there were two of them: equal in size and appearance. The same neon morphing skin, red marble eyes, glistening mouths oozing drool and filled with large rows of dagger-like teeth.

  They could see her. Studying the floor, they saw there would be a challenge reaching her. Not much of one, but the barbs would slow the pursuit down some. Their snarling mouths opened wide with their screams of rage.

  Karen couldn’t stop the smile, knowing they were pissed off. Her valor didn’t last longer tha
n a flash of a second, though. It wouldn’t take much for them to get on this side. With that in mind, she forced herself to her feet. It wasn’t easy, and she couldn’t move as quickly as she wanted to. Her body pulsed with pain.

  Get moving!

  Her left leg didn’t want to cooperate with the right and she was performing a hop stride instead of a full sprint. Each step sent a sharp jab of pain up her leg. She didn’t let it deter her, though, and kept moving; kept moving, not stopping until her shins collided with something hard. It kicked her feet back, throwing her legs behind her and bringing her down to meet more steps.

  Her chest smashed into the narrow edge of a tread. The impact felt as if it might knock her breasts out her back. Her chin slammed down on another. Her vision flashed.

  “Ohhh…” Her voice sounded muffled and bubbly through the clamor in her ears.

  Through the pain, she felt herself slip down. Another short drop and her face met the step. She managed to throw her arm up and grip the back of a stair…

  Stairs!

  The realization brought her from her hazy mind. She’d started to drift away to unconsciousness but stopped herself just in time.

  “No,” she muttered. “Move, Karen…dammit, move!”

  She pushed herself up to her hands. Legs extended, her feet were on the floor. It felt weird. There was coldness under the right one. Wiggling her toes, she realized she’d lost a shoe in her fall. She didn’t dare take the time to look for it in the dark. Might never find it. Besides, it would slow her down.

  No doubt the creatures would be here any moment.

  Back arched, rump high in the air, she crawled upward. She moved along the steps like a dog—hands slipped through the spaces between each step, shoulder falling against the edge, causing even more pain. Feet slipped. The other sandal fell off, and she heard it smacking the steps on its way down.

  As she was starting to wonder when she’d reach the top, she bashed her head.