The Printer From Hell
Page 14
Finally, realizing that I only have one option, I hurry to the window and slide it open. A knife immediately slides into me from behind, straight between my shoulder-blades, while rotten, pus-filled hands grab at my face, trying to pull me back. A moment later I feel teeth biting into my neck, and I let out a pained cry as I struggle to shove the printer out through the open window. As the knife is driven into my back and shoulders again and again, I see more of the creatures on the street below, and I feel myself starting to lose consciousness.
Finally, with my last scrap of energy, I manage to push the printer out through the window.
The Hellforms behind me immediately cry out in anger, but I simply watch as the printer tumbles through the air and smashes against the pavement, shattering in an explosion of metal and plastic.
Slumping back, I fall against the floor and roll onto my side, feeling bursts of pain all through my body. My clothes are soaked in blood and I can barely keep my eyes open, but finally I start forcing myself up again, determined to go back and find Josh. After just a couple of seconds, however, I drop back down, too exhausted and injured to even move.
“Josh,” I whisper, turning and seeing that suddenly I'm back in the real world, back in the bedroom I shared for so many years with my wife. “Mary?” I stammer, looking around for her, before glancing at my chest and seeing blood pouring from several wounds. I try again to get up, but I feel as if my body is suddenly much heavier and all I can manage is to roll over and reach up, grabbing the side of the bed with a trembling, bloodied hand.
“Daddy?” Josh calls out suddenly.
“I'm here!” I gasp, gripping the bed and trying desperately to get up as I hear footsteps coming closer.
“Daddy!” Josh yells. “Watch out!”
I freeze for a moment, before turning just in time to see that even though we're back in our own apartment, one final creature is lunging at me. Before I have time to react, I see the rotten, bloated Hellform of my own son grinning at me as it grabs my face and then bites down hard, chewing through my left cheek.
“The printer!” I scream, as Hellform Josh lands on my chest and bites down harder, tearing flesh from my cheek all the way up to my ear. “Josh, the printer! It's in the kitchen! You have to -”
I cry out as the Hellform bites my face again, and I feel its rotten teeth slicing through my gums and then scraping against my jaw. At the same time, I hear the real Josh running into the kitchen, and then I hear the window sliding open.
The Hellform lets out a cry of anger as it tears more flesh from my face, but for a moment it pauses and stares down into my eyes.
A moment later I hear a distant crashing sound, and the Hellform vanishes in the blink of an eye.
“I did it!” Josh shouts, hurrying through but stopping in the doorway when he sees me. “Daddy, I...”
His voice trails off as he stares at me with shock in his eyes.
“I destroyed it,” he stammers, taking a step back.
I try to get up and go to him, but all I manage is to let out a faint gurgle as I reach toward the doorway. As my son turns and runs screaming out of the apartment, I try again and again to haul myself up, before slumping against the wall and letting out a slow, pained cry. Finally I manage to look out the window, and I see people down on the street. Some of them are staring up at me, while others are looking at the remains of the printer. For a moment, I'm struck by the realization that this looks exactly like the strange scene I witnessed the other night, when I thought I saw figures watching the apartment.
Slowly I drop down to the floor, as more blood flows from my wounds. I'm starting to feel weaker and weaker, and I can barely even keep my eyes open.
“What the hell?” a voice says outside, down on the street. “I think someone tossed a printer out the window!”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“And how do you feel about your actions now, Josh?” Doctor Patton asks, watching my son from the other side of the table. “Have you had time to think about it since the last time we talked? Do you feel... regret, perhaps?”
They sit in silence for a moment, just the two of them in this large, bright padded cell. Patton is studying Josh's face, but Josh simply stares back at him with an expression of unblinking calm. Somehow, he doesn't even seem like Josh anymore; he seems to be constantly plotting, constantly thinking, constantly metering what he says. In the blink of an eye, my happy son has become far more reserved and cautious.
Over in the far corner, a video camera is once again recording the entire session.
“Yes,” he says finally.
“You feel regret?”
Josh nods.
Patton makes a note. “What else do you feel?”
He waits for an answer.
“Do you feel... shame?”
Josh pauses, and then he nods again.
“Do you feel a sense of shock, Josh?”
Yet another nod.
Patton pauses, clearly not entirely happy with these answers. For these few moments of silence, the only sound in the room is the faint whir of the camera.
“And amusement, Josh?” the doctor continues finally. “Do you feel amused by what you did to that poor boy at lunch yesterday? You stabbed him in the neck with a fork. Does that amuse you?”
Josh stares at him for a moment, holding his gaze for several seconds, and then finally he nods again.
“I see,” Patton mutters, making another note before setting the lid back on his pen. “I think perhaps we should take a break at this point. In our next session, it's probably worth going back over the work we carried out regarding pattern recognition and emotional reaction.” He gets to his feet, still watching Josh with a hint of disappointment. It's as if he's sad that his trained monkey isn't performing as expected. “We'll make a breakthrough soon,” he adds with a sigh. “There's no doubt about that at all. We just need to keep plugging away.”
“You've got this all wrong,” I say firmly, feeling as if I want to knock this asshole out. “You're not seeing what's really happening to him.”
“I'll get someone to bring you a little food,” Patton adds, before turning to head over to the door. At the last moment, however, he stops and continues to watch Josh for a moment longer. “Have you thought any more about what we discussed last time?” he asks. “About your father?”
“He doesn't need your help for that,” I mutter darkly. “You're looking at the wrong thing. Please, you have to help him before it's too late!”
“Your father's death seems to have been on your mind for quite some time now, Josh,” Patton continues. “When you were first admitted here a week ago, you talked more about your mother's passing, but now your father appears to be more to the forefront of your mind. Do you know why that might be?”
“You need to increase security around him,” I tell Patton, even though I know he can't see or hear me. “He's trying to trick you! It's that place, it's changed him!”
“I'll send lunch,” Patton mutters, heading to the door. “Maybe tomorrow we can start to break down your delusions regarding what happened to your parents.”
“They're not delusions!” I call after him. “Everything he told you is true! Every word of it!”
Once Josh is alone in the room, I wait for him to do or say something. Anything. He doesn't know I'm here, or at least he's shown no indication that he's picked up on my presence. It's hard to believe that a son doesn't recognize his father's ghost, but I guess that's not the most important thing right now. I can try to break through to him later. What really matters for now is that I'm here to keep an eye on him, and to make sure that he's protected in case anything else from the Hellform world ever breaks through and comes for him again. I have no indication that they're after him, but I still worry. If something ever shows up, I'll protect him. I don't know how, but I'll find a way.
“Back,” he whispers suddenly.
I wait for him to say something else, but now he's just sitting perfectly still, staring
at the opposite wall.
“Josh,” I say after a moment, stepping around the table and stopping when I'm in front of him. Eventually, he has to realize I'm here. “It's me, Josh,” I continue. “It's Daddy. Listen, buddy, I just want you to know that I'm here for you. I'm watching over you, and I'm not going anywhere. Even when you eventually get out of this place, I'll come with you. You're not alone, and I'm sure Mummy's ghost will show up too, she can't still be trapped in that place. And you'll get over what happened. I know the Hellform world was horrific, but you're strong enough to recover. I have faith in you.”
“Back,” he says again.
“Back?”
I pause, filled with a sense of growing concern. In the days since we went to the Hellform world and I died, I've not left his side, but away from his meetings with the doctors he's barely said a word. Now, for the first time, something seems to be stirring in his soul. Perhaps finally he's starting to get over the horrific things he saw in that other place. His mother's death, the sight of the Hellform versions of our family, the blood and screams, the other creatures...
“Back,” he says a third time, and now his whole body seems to be trembling slightly.
“Back where?” I ask, trying not to panic. “Back home? It's okay, buddy. Just stay calm. I'm sure...” I pause, unable to ignore the fury in his eyes. “I know you can't hear me, but maybe somehow you can sense my words. You'll be fine, Josh. You just -”
“Back!” he says again, raising his voice a little, and suddenly he grips the edges of the desk. The veins on the side of his forehead seem a little more prominent, and somehow his eyes are darker.
“Josh -”
“I'll find a way back,” he stammers, his voice trembling with determination. “I'll get back, I swear! I'll get back and I'll never leave again!”
“Josh,” I stammer, trying to ignore the fact that he's reminding me of Wolonovsky right now, “just stay calm and everything -”
“I'm going to find my way back,” he continues, with tears running down his face. “I have to!”
Behind me, the door opens and I hear a nurse entering the room, bringing a tray of food. Before I can react, however, I spot something glinting in Josh's right hand and I realize that somehow he's managed to get hold of a pen lid. It's small and made of plastic, but the tip looks sharp enough to tear through human flesh.
“Get out of here,” I stammer, turning to the nurse even though I know she can't see me. “You have to -”
“I'm going back!” Josh screams, suddenly scrambling across the table, lunging at her digging the pen lid into the side of her neck. He falls against her as blood starts spraying from her wound, and I can hear footsteps running this way as she screams for help. They're going to be too late. With each passing second, he unleashes more of his fury.
And there's nothing I can do.
His eyes filled with the same anger that I saw in Wolonovsky, Josh stabs the poor woman again and again, while rambling about his need to get back to the Hellform world. No matter how desperately I beg him to calm down, he just won't stop. Not as the nurse's blood sprays into his mouth. Not as the shocked guards call for back-up. And not as he's finally pulled away from the woman's ravaged corpse, while ranting that even if he never makes it back to Hell, he'll get what he wants eventually.
“They're coming here!” he screams, still struggling to get free. “They'll find a way! You can't hide forever! They're coming! They're coming! They're coming!”
Epilogue
One week earlier
“Maxinomoticon? Is this a good brand?”
Reaching past the other items on the shelf, I pull forward the large, dusty printer that was lurking at the back. The damn thing looked like it was almost hiding, half-hidden in shadow, and there's a fine layer of dust all over the top.
“Huh,” the guy from the store mutters, wiping the dust away. “That's...”
His voice trails off, although after a moment he mutters something about 'not remembering'.
“Looks Japanese,” I point out, seeing lots of squiggly text on the box's side. “It's probably some kind of ultra high-tech thing. Aren't they always, like, way ahead of the rest of us?”
“Well, I...”
The guy still seems a little nonplussed, and after a moment he turns the box around so he can take a look at the back. He frowns, almost as if he's never seen this goddamn thing before in his life.
“I'm pretty sure my wife wouldn't be impressed if I came home with something like this,” I continue, with a faint smile. “She'll want a big-name brand. You know, one she thinks she can trust.” I turn to him. “Not that it helps much. Why is it that printers are so fiddly to operate, anyway? Every time you turn them on, they're either low on ink suddenly, or low on toner, or they decide their drivers need updating. And even when they're working perfectly, they take forever to -”
“Fifty quid,” he says suddenly.
I hesitate for a moment. “Sorry?”
“You can take this one for fifty quid,” he continues, sliding it along the shelf toward me. There's a troubled look in his eyes, almost as if he doesn't want to touch the box. “In fact, I'll throw in some ink cartridges on the side. Looks like it can take several different types, so I'll load you up with enough to last you a year.”
“But if -”
“You'll save so much money on ink alone,” he adds. “You'll save a fortune.”
I open my mouth to tell him I'm still not sure.
“Forty-five quid, then,” he adds, and now there's a hint of desperation in his eyes. He's started scratching the side of his neck, too, and he takes a half-step back. “You won't get a better deal, not even online.”
I pause, considering the offer. I'm tempted by the bargain, but I'm pretty sure I know what Mary would say.
“That's very kind of you,” I tell him, “but my wife -”
“Who's buying this printer, eh?” he asks. “You or her?”
“Well, we -”
“Forty quid and a year's supply of ink,” he adds. “You'd be insane not to take that. Are you gonna turn down the offer of a lifetime, just because your wife might need some persuading?” He waits for me to answer, and I can't help feeling that he's studying my face, desperately waiting for me to accept. “If you really hate it after a week, you can bring it back.”
I pause, before realizing that this is the kind of offer I can't refuse. Plus, I don't want him to think that my wife calls all the shots.
“Sure,” I say finally, “I guess I could -”
“Let's get it bagged up for you,” he says quickly, reaching out to grab the box before pulling back. He seems to be in a hurry, as if he's worried I might change my mind, but at the same time he apparently doesn't want to touch the box himself. “Carry it over to the counter for me, would you? I've got a bad back.”
I'm sure I saw him carrying heavy boxes when I arrived, but I figure there's no point arguing.
“I don't even remember how that thing ended up in here,” he mutters as I take the box over to the counter.
“Does that often happen?” I ask. “Random merchandise shows up for sale in your shop?”
He mutters something else, and I can't help noticing that his hands are trembling slightly as he starts rummaging through a drawer, searching for a large bag.
“It'll be fine,” I tell him as I set the box on the counter. I know Mary won't be too happy, but she'll get used to it soon enough. “How bad can it get, anyway?” I ask. “It's just a printer.”
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