by Dan Dillard
Chapter 25
“Is something in my head when I sleep? That’s insane and I don't like to feel insane. Can you feel insanity? For now, my head is aching and I need rest. Tomorrow will, hopefully, be another day.”
-Ethan Jacobs, Electronic Journal entry #61
..ooOOoo..
Ethan worried about Max's statement that something bigger and more intense was coming, and he really didn't want to wait around for that to happen. Emily hadn't called him since their last fight and he didn't expect her to. He took each day minute by minute and traveled with caution.
He knew he wouldn't see Kay again. While he could've used some friends for support right then, he really didn't want to endanger any of them or perhaps pass this on again. The scent of rot and decay lingered most of the time now, and he thought that whatever this thing was, it was gaining strength and feeding on his fear.
Ethan wasn't scared of the spectral creature that was in his apartmentany longer because the beast that was coming—the devil he didn’t know—had become his number one stress. Whatever was coming was holding its ‘pet’ at bay. He should be safe until it arrived. He couldn’t do anything but wait. Whenever he tried to leave, he felt a stifling pressure from all sides that kept him from going anywhere.
He stopped eating. He just wasn’t hungry. Slobs didn’t eat, either—it was a show of support. They didn’t act like man and man’s best friend anymore; they were more like depressed creatures that were just going through the motions of living.
By the time the fifth day had passed, Ethan hadn't showered or shaved and hadn't slept for fear that he would dream or the foul smelling creature would attack him again and this time finish the job. Each time he closed his eyes, he was jarred awake by his version of its snarling teeth drooling blood-stained slime. At that point, he felt he might welcome death. He was ready to give up when Emily called. The phone rang and he fumbled to reach it, letting out a huge sigh of relief to see her name on the screen. He cleared his dry throat and answered, doing his best to sound strong.
“Hey, Em,” was all that came out.
She didn’t let him go any further.
“I just wanted to check on you, see that you were all right,” she said.
It was her clinical nurse voice, like before, but at least she was talking to him. She sounded truly concerned and that was enough.
“I'm still weak, but should be back to normal any day,” he lied.
Her acting was much better. He knew she made the call more for her peace of mind than his.
“I’m glad to hear that,” she said.
There was an uncomfortable silence while he tried to find something—anything —to say to her. Nothing came to mind.
“Take care, Ethan, I've got to go,” she finally said, and she hung up.
He wanted to talk longer. He wanted more than anything for her to hold him and help him through it all. He wanted to cry, but was too exhausted.