The remaining players suddenly shook their heads, looked up at the hell in front of them and screamed. It was like a stampede as they all raced for the exit.
“C-Chris? Chris, baby, what’s goin’ on?” Mama came running toward him, grabbed his shoulders and pulled him close. Her eyes moved to the inflamed creatures on stage and a scream ripped from her throat, then she saw Dad and gasped and tried to run to him, but Chris stopped her.
“No, Mama…he’s dead. He’s gone. We have to get outta here!” He pointed toward the doors. “Go, get out! Go now!”
She started to, but turned back when Chris didn’t follow. “Come on, what are you doin’?”
“I gotta get Oscar…just go!”
He ran back toward the stage, Mr. Big and his minions now gurgling and mewling, still thrashing. Oscar had managed to slide off the stage, but lay in a heap on the floor, struggling to try and get to his feet. When he saw Chris he smiled and shook his head.
“I…I thought you left me, fool. I thought I was dead.”
“Nah, man. We’re all we got left.” Chris scooped up his friend, draped him over his back again. He ignored the pain in his wrist and ran for the door.
When they got outside, when the sun hit them, Chris dropped to the ground and let the tears flow freely. Mama fell beside him and rocked him. And together, the three of them watched Big Time Bingo burn.
Chris had so much he wanted to say to her, but the only sound he could muster was weeping. He clutched at her and she squeezed him tight, and there was no better feeling in the world.
Chris had been stuffing clothes into a duffel bag when he heard the crashing, and when the scream cut through the air, he dropped the bag and ran toward his bedroom door. Oscar lay on the bed propped up on his elbows. He shook his head as he glared at the door.
Mama!
They had only come home to grab some essentials, and then they were going to get out of town, get as far away from this nightmare as possible. They didn’t know where, but that didn’t matter.
Chris burst from his bedroom and started toward the living room, but stopped when he saw the broken walls, sheet rock and wood splinters raining to the floor.
His legs buckled, went limp beneath him, and he sat there in the hall, watching as the giant maggot chewed on his mother. It had her head in its mouth, her legs kicking and breaking picture frames on the wall. Blood poured from the thing’s jaws as it sucked her in farther. Its body pulsated and throbbed.
Chris reached for her, tried to scream, but only a whispery gasp seeped out. Her legs slid down the maggot’s throat, her feet giving a few more kicks before disappearing completely.
Chris back pedaled down the hall, then spun and sprinted back into his bedroom. Oscar sat upright in the bed, his eyes darting from Chris to the open doorway.
“What the fuck, man?”
The TV felt heavier than it was as Chris’s exhausted arms lifted it and tossed it through the window. After the crash of the breaking glass, the other sounds oozed into the room, the sounds coming from outside: screaming, crying, roaring.
Chris didn’t think he had the strength to carry his friend again, but he bent down beside the bed, pulled Oscar’s arms over his shoulders and lifted with everything he had left.
Oscar’s voice chattered into Chris’s ear, asking question after question, but Chris ignored it as he stepped through the window, glass crunching beneath his Jordans. His mom’s car idled in the driveway, the doors still hanging open. Chris limped his way across the small yard and dumped his friend into the back seat.
“Tell me what the fuck is goin’ on, Chris. Where we goin’? Where’s your mom?”
“It’s just me and you now,” Chris said, then slammed the door. The screams and cries of his neighbors were cut off as he climbed into the driver’s seat and pulled the door shut.
“Oh…oh shit…” Oscar stared out the back windshield.
Chris backed the car into the street, running over something that thumped and crunched under the tires. Oscar yelped as his charred body bounced. They spun out as Chris slammed his foot to the gas pedal, and they zoomed through the neighborhood, unsure of where to go or who to turn to for help.
About the Author
Shane McKenzie is the author of many horror and bizarro novels and novellas, including Fairy, published by Samhain.
He also writes comics for Zenescope Entertainment.
He wrote the script for a short film entitled M is for Matador, filmed by LuchaGore Productions, which was selected by DraftHouse Films to be included in the DVD The ABCs of Death 1.5. LuchaGore Productions also filmed a short film based on the first chapter of his novel Muerte Con Carne, entitled El Gigante. He lives in Austin, TX with his wife and daughter.
www.shanemckenzie.org
Look for these titles by Shane McKenzie
Now Available:
Fairy
Cecilia will do anything to have a baby. Anything.
Fairy
© 2012 Shane McKenzie
Cecilia has tried everything to have the one thing she wants most—a baby. She’s been through every procedure, taken every medication. Nothing seems to work. Her body simply refuses to grow the life she so desperately yearns for. Her jealousy is making her lash out at the pregnant women around her. She’s starting to worry about her sanity.
But all is not lost. There is still one way. And Cecilia will do whatever it takes.
Even if it means inviting an ancient creature into her bedroom.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Fairy:
Cecilia knocked. The woman’s moans penetrated the wooden door and vibrated into the night.
Rapid footsteps. The door swung open and a large man greeted her, sweat dripping from his red face. He stepped aside, pointed into what appeared to be the living room. “In…in there. Sh-she’s in there.”
“Okay, thank you.” Cecilia sidestepped past him, saw that the wetness on his cheeks was from tears rather than perspiration. He took a deep breath, combed his fingers through his curly hair, ran the back of his hand across the bottom of his nose.
An inflatable pool sat in the middle of the living room, filled with rippling water and an agonizing woman. She gripped the sides of the pool, her fingers nearly puncturing the plastic, hissing and groaning. Her belly floated atop the water like a deserted island. “Eeeee.”
Judy stood behind her, massaging her shoulders, letting her know everything would be all right, that she was doing great.
Cecilia stepped into the room and Judy locked eyes with her.
“Take over for me here. I need to check dilation.”
“Oh, please, please help me. Pleeeaaase!”
Cecilia trotted behind the woman, squeezed the flesh of her shoulders, neck, reached into the water and rubbed her back. “You’ll be okay. Just breathe. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”
But the woman wasn’t listening as another contraction nearly bent her in half. Her husband wept and paced the living room, his eyes never leaving his wife.
“Is something wrong? There’s something wrong, isn’t there? Don’t let anything happen to her, please. You can’t let anything happen to her.”
“What’s your name?” Cecilia asked the man.
“J-Jason.”
“Jason, your wife and baby need you to be strong, okay? Stay positive for them.”
“Just help her!”
Judy had both arms submerged in the water, her face pointed to the ceiling with her tongue clamped between her teeth. Her eyes widened. “The baby is already crowning.”
“Wh-what does that mean?” the woman said. She turned toward Cecilia. “What does that mean? What’s wrong with my baby?”
“She’s only been in labor a couple of hours,” Jason said. “Is…is the baby okay? Tell me the baby’s okay!”
“Oh Jesus, it hurts. It hurts!”
Cecilia had stopped massaging and watched as Judy worked. The midwife looked up at the woman, water dripping from her face.
“Your baby is almost out, honey, okay? We need you to push, and push hard.”
“Come on, a nice hard push for your baby. One, two, three… Push!” Cecilia let the woman squeeze her hands as her cries were cut off and she pushed. The woman’s body shook and a high-pitched whimper seeped from her lips.
Jason had collapsed on the kitchen floor, weeping into his arms. He spoke as he cried, the words nothing but saliva-coated gibberish.
The woman screamed, nearly shook the walls down. The water clouded with a burst of dark blood.
Judy pulled the baby and placenta from the tub, stood up, cradled it. There was no sound, no wiggling.
The mother and father were silent, both staring at Judy and their baby. Cecilia watched with them, unable to move, unwilling to approach what she already knew was a stillborn.
Judy inspected the baby with her hands, then placed the stethoscope hanging from her neck to the child’s chest. Her face suddenly drooped, and she didn’t have to say a word.
The mother wailed, splashed water all over the living room carpet as she thrashed her arms and legs.
Cecilia moved away as Jason joined his wife and the two of them cried and sobbed. She met Judy in the next room, gave her a somber look, but Judy met her gaze with something else in her expression. There was no shock, no sadness, but something else. It stopped Cecilia in her tracks; she tried to speak to the midwife, but her throat refused to let any words slip by.
“We still need to cut the placenta free from the body. We’ll need it.”
“Wh-what? Need it?”
Judy handed the baby, covered in blood and wrapped in a blanket, to Cecilia, the gelatinous red placenta hanging from her hand as she gripped the umbilical cord. Then she pulled out a pair of silver scissors from her coat pocket. “I’ll take care of it.”
“What are you doing, Judy? What the hell is this?”
They were standing outside of Cecilia’s place. Judy had followed her there, refused to explain anything until they got there.
“I want to help you, Celia. It’s…it’s something I have to do. I have to.”
“The baby needs to be taken to the medical examiner. What the hell is wrong with you?”
Judy held the baby and placenta in her arms, both wrapped up in the same towel as before, now separated. “I know this seems crazy. Believe me, I know. But how long have you known me?”
“How does that even matter? I don’t—”
“Just how long?”
“I don’t know, ten years?”
“Have I ever given you reason not to trust me? Do I strike you as a crazy person?”
“Well, not until now.”
“I know how you can have a baby, Celia. I know how. And it would be your baby, inside of you. Yours. You would birth it, the baby would be yours.”
Cecilia stared at her, hands clutched to her chest. “This is…this is mean. Why would you say that to me?”
“My children…” Judy started, her eyes moving to the dead baby in her arms. “The first two were perfect, no problems. But we wanted a third. We wanted one more to make our family whole. But…but something was wrong. My baby was stillborn, looked just like this when he came out.” She displayed the tiny, curled-up body. “We tried again and again, but it kept happening. We were devastated, heartbroken. But I was told, I was told what to do.”
“By who?”
Judy shook her head. “You can’t know that, you can never know that...”
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This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Samhain Publishing, Ltd.
11821 Mason Montgomery Road Suite 4B
Cincinnati OH 45249
The Bingo Hall
Copyright © 2014 by Shane McKenzie
ISBN: 978-1-61922-261-8
Edited by Don D’Auria
Cover by Scott Carpenter
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
First Samhain Publishing, Ltd. electronic publication: November 2014
www.samhainpublishing.com
The Bingo Hall Page 11