The Worst Kind of Monsters

by Elias Witherow

  It was gigantic and had to weigh over a ton. Its flesh wiggled under my sweating hands and it opened its mouth slightly. My fingers curled around teeth the size of kitchen knives and I realized its mouth was absolutely cavernous.

  The Pig squealed again and I heard its hooves clack against the ground. It sounded like thunder rolling across an open field in the middle of summer.

  “Take this blindfold off, please,” I begged, my legs turning to jelly.

  Danny had taken a few steps back and I heard reverence in his voice. “You don’t want to do that.”

  I jumped as The Pig nudged me with its nose, the wet circle of flesh squishing against the length of my face. I shuddered away, raising my hands and emitting a cry of fear.

  “Feed the Pig,” Danny instructed, his voice like cold steel now. “You made your choice. Now live with it. It’s the only chance you have of going back. Or maybe The Pig won’t like how you taste and send you to hell. Only one way to find out.”

  My eyes widened behind the vomit-soaked cloth. “Won’t…like…how I taste?!”

  “Climb into its mouth.”

  My bladder let go again and I felt warm piss run down my leg. “N-no…no, you can’t mean…”

  Danny’s voice hardened. “Climb into its mouth and don’t stop crawling forward until it’s done with you.”

  “P-please,” I begged, turning toward Danny’s voice, reaching out blindly. “Please, there has to be some other way…don’t make me do this!” I was a mess of snot and tears, my words bumbling from my mouth like a toddler.

  Danny stepped forward and spun me back to face The Pig. “DO IT! You made your choice! It will all be over soon! This is your only CHANCE!”

  I could feel The Pig breathing onto my face, its snout mere inches from mine. The smell and heat it emitted made me want to vomit again, but I held it back. This was insane; this wasn’t happening. My mind spun and twisted in chaos and fear. There had to be some other way. I couldn’t do this, I COULD NOT do this!

  Suddenly I remembered the words of the woman: Sometimes suffering through your fear is better than suffering for eternity. Be brave.

  This was my only chance to get back to the world of the living. I had made such a terrible mistake in killing myself. If I could go back and change my life, I wouldn’t have to spend eternity here. I could change my ways, ensure a spot somewhere else. Somewhere away from The Pig. But what if it decided to send me to hell? How much more suffering could I endure?

  I had to take the chance.

  “Please, God,” I whispered, taking a step forward, “if you can hear me…please…have mercy on me.”

  My shaking hands reached out for The Pig and I grasped its thick fur. I felt it slowly lower its head and open its mouth. It was waiting for me, its thick, hot breath stinking in my nostrils. This was it. No turning back now.

  I slowly gripped its teeth and pulled myself forward into its jaws. Its head was at a downward angle and so I immediately fell onto my stomach at a forty-five-degree angle. Its wet tongue squished under me and I was shaking so hard I could barely breathe. Tears soaked my blindfold and my heart crunched against my ribs.

  I slowly reached forward and found another tooth to grab onto. Gritting my teeth, I pulled my body inward past my knees. The Pig raised its head and I was suddenly completely horizontal on its tongue.

  Saliva and mucus dripped around me and the heat was so intense I almost blacked out. My knees clacked against its front teeth as I pulled myself even deeper. Its inner cheeks pressed in around me, squeezing my body like a soaking fleshy coffin.

  Crying, terrified, I reached ahead of me and found more teeth. I pulled myself deeper into its mouth and I felt my feet slide past its lips. My whole body was coated in slime and I openly wept, grasping in the darkness for another tooth.

  And that’s when The Pig started to chew on me.

  I screamed in crushing agony as my body was compressed between its massive teeth. I heard my legs snap instantly and felt wet bone pop from my skin. I shook violently as my body spasmed in shock, a mangled twist of blood and pain.

  Its tongue shifted me in its mouth and I felt it bite down on my shoulder. My eyes bulged in their sockets as I howled, a hot pillar crunching down on my collarbone. I threw up violently, unable to control myself, the pain overwhelming.

  Keep crawling.

  Screaming, bloodshot eyes rolling wildly, I reached forward with my good arm, wetly searching for another tooth. I grit my teeth, blood squirting between them as my fingers wrapped around something solid.

  The Pig bit down again, its tongue twisting my body so its molars could snap down on my knees. The pain brought darkness, but my howling screams forced my eyes to remain open.

  “JESUS, MAKE IT STOP!” I bellowed, my trembling hand still gripping the tooth ahead of me. “PLEASE MAKE IT FUCKING STOP!”

  I ground my teeth together so hard they cracked, screaming as I slowly pulled my body deeper into the mouth.

  Something was changing, the tight walls of its throat squeezed my head and I realized I was almost through.

  “COME ON, YOU MOTHERFUCKER! COME ON!” I begged, vocal cords cracking. I reached ahead of me and grabbed onto a thick wad of flesh. My head felt like it was splitting, and The Pig bit down on me again.

  I gasped, blood exploding from my mouth in a great gush of red.

  It had pierced through my stomach, obliterating my insides like bloated noodles. Darkness rushed in on me and I was in too much shock to even scream.

  With the last of my strength, right as the blackness took me, I pulled myself forward one last time and felt myself slide down its throat.

  Darkness. Falling…screaming. I was screaming. Heat. Heat so intense I thought I would melt. Clanging. Something was hammering on metal. Colors and images flew past me so quickly I could only make out their shape. Blood poured into my eyes.

  I felt like I would keep falling forever.

  Suddenly, my eyes snapped open and I was falling, my breath rushing back into my lungs in a great wave of purity. My face bounced off a wood floor and I cried out as I felt my nose break. I tasted blood and saw stars.

  I had stopped falling.

  There was a ring of burning fire around my throat and I felt impossibly thirsty.

  I was lying on the floor.

  I slowly opened my eyes again and the darkness began to fade like morning mist under a hot sun. Colors blended together and shapes came into focus.

  I was in my woodshed.

  I reached up around my throat and grasped at the source of heat. It was the rope I had hung myself with, but now it was severed, releasing me from the grip of death.

  Relief rolled over me in overwhelming waves of thanks. I curled up on the floor and sobbed, tears dripping from my eyes onto the dirty floor. My body shook, unbroken as I wept, wet hoarse cries rising from my quivering lips.

  I had been spared. I was alive again.

  From my spot on the floor, I turned my eyes upward, my voice cracking. “Thank you God. Oh thank you.” I fell into another fit of uncontrollable sobbing. “I promise I won’t waste my life again. I promise I’ll make things right, I’ll fix everything.”

  I don’t know how long it was before I got up. Time seemed to stretch for eternity. My mind refused to rebuild, the horrors of what I had just witnessed crushing me.

  But I knew I would do everything I could to make the most out of my life. I was going to live every day to the fullest. I would devote myself to helping others in dark times. I would reach out to as many Suicidals as I could and try to save them from what awaited on the other side.

  I didn’t want anyone else to have to witness the horrors of suicide.

  I didn’t want anyone else to have to Feed the Pig.

  7

  Ten Days, Ten Pills

  Day 1

  I’m trying a new medication. My doctor recommended it. Said it would help with things. It’s a new drug, still in the testing phase, so they’re putting me on a ten-da
y trial. Minimal side effects. Really no risk, so they say.

  My doctor said I should document any changes I feel, good or bad, regarding my behavior. So I started this little diary. I feel kind of silly; I’ve never been the journal type. I just got home from the doc’s about twenty minutes ago. I’m about to take one of these little pills. I feel a little nervous, despite his reassurances. I’m probably just paranoid, as usual.

  Anyway…here we go.

  Day 2

  Well, I didn’t sleep very well. I had headaches all night. The doctor said that was a possible side effect. Other than that, I haven’t noticed any other differences. I took some Advil around four and that seems to be helping.

  I’m about to make lunch. They say I should take these pills on a full stomach. I’m glad I don’t have to go into work today. I think after lunch I’m going to take a nap. I’m tired and my head has finally stopped killing me.

  It’s funny; this is the second entry I’ve written today. Maybe I actually like doing this? Anyway, I’m about to go to bed. Earlier, I ate lunch, took my pill, and then passed out on the couch. I had weird dreams. It’s strange because I NEVER have dreams.

  Anyway, it’s almost midnight and I need to get some sleep. I’m going to try to make the most of my Sunday and get an early start, maybe go down to the lake. Hopefully it doesn’t rain.

  Day 3

  I had a weird day today. Everything was fine until I went to the lake. I took my pill around noon before I went. I don’t know if that has anything to do with what happened (I don’t see how it could) but regardless, the whole point of this journal is to record anything out of the ordinary while on this trial.

  So, I went to the lake around three. I brought my book and towel and laid out on the shore. It was sunny and warm, a nice day. There were a few families there, mostly little kids and a few teenagers.

  Everything was going OK until…well…I heard this…horn.

  Now, you have to understand this lake is out in the middle of nowhere. It’s a local secret. You have to take this awful dirt road through the woods to even get there. But once you’re there it’s beautiful. A year ago, some of the locals dumped sand along the shore and have kept it groomed since then. It’s like being at the ocean in the middle of a forest.

  So anyway, it’s about six o’clock and the sun is going down and this…horn…starts blaring from the woods. It’s distant and low, rumbling across the water from the far bank. It reminded me of one of those old Viking horns.

  Bewildered, I realized I was the only one who seemed to hear it. I looked around, tearing my sunglasses off, and no one even blinked at the sudden noise. After about three minutes, the horn finally stopped.

  After that, I decided it was time to leave. I started packing up my car and froze, one hand on the driver’s-side door.

  Across the lake, three figures were watching me at the water’s edge. They were far away, too far to make out their features. It looked like three men, but I couldn’t be sure. Something was wrong with their faces, but no matter how hard I squinted, I couldn’t see clearly.

  Scared, I pulled my door open and hopped in my car. As I drove away, I could feel their gaze in my rearview mirror.

  Day 4

  I don’t know what to make of all this. I’m going to call my doctor. I had more dreams last night. My head hurts. I took my pill a little before breakfast, but I’m wondering if I should have held off. It seems to make these headaches worse.

  I went to work today but couldn’t seem to concentrate. I felt like someone was watching me.

  I feel like there’s someone watching me now.

  It’s four in the morning. I just woke up from a nightmare. I heard that horn again. I don’t know if it was outside or in my dream, but it woke me up. I’m sweating like crazy; it scared the shit out of me. I keep thinking I see things move past my window.

  Day 5

  Well, today was much better. I called my doctor and told him about all the strange stuff. He told me the headaches and dreams were probably just a side effect, nothing to worry about. He seemed skeptical about the other stuff, though. I told him everything and, God bless him, he listened to my ramblings. He assured me it was probably just stress-related, but to contact him if it got worse. He reminded me that this wasn’t an approved drug, but it was the best chance we had of helping me.

  I’m just going to suck it up. He said I just had to finish the ten-day trial and then we could reevaluate. I’m halfway there.

  Day 6

  More dreams last night. I dreamed something was sliding around my floor, like a shadow under my feet. Every time I tried to move away from it, it would zip back under me. I crawled up on my bed and it slid up the wall like a dark piece of paper. Right before I woke up, I thought I heard giggling under my bed.

  When I got home from work today, something didn’t seem right in my apartment, either. My closet door in my bedroom was wide open. I don’t remember opening it this morning, but I guess I could have forgotten about it. I made sure to close it tight.

  It’s four in the morning. I’m fucking terrified. Something is giggling in my bedroom closet. I don’t know why, but every ounce of me is telling me to just ignore it and it’ll go away. I’m writing this down to keep myself from going into a full-blown panic.

  Day 7

  I’m sitting on my couch, wondering whether I need to call my doctor or not. I don’t feel good. I took my pill. I don’t know why.

  I have this feeling that if I just make it through the ten days, everything will return to normal. I called out of work. I closed all the blinds. I just want to sit in the dark and not fall asleep. My head is still killing me. Something is really wrong with me.

  I think there’s something standing on my balcony.

  Day 8

  It’s midnight. I haven’t fallen asleep yet. I’m on my couch, haven’t moved since yesterday except to take my pill.

  I can hear that horn again. It’s distant, barely audible, but there.

  I think something is giggling in my bedroom.

  Day 9

  I called my doctor today. I told him about all the horrible things that have been happening. You know what he said? He said I had to finish the ten-day trial, that I needed to, or they would come get me. When I asked who, he hung up. He seemed flustered, scared. What the fuck is going on? Who’s doing this to me and why?

  I’m still sitting on my couch. I don’t want to move. Work keeps calling me, but I don’t care. I just need to finish this trial. Just be done with it.

  I think there’s something in my bedroom. I can’t see it because my door is closed, but I can hear it. It walks around on heavy feet and then giggles. I feel like if I just ignore it, it can’t hurt me.

  Day 10

  It’s three in the morning. I’m still on the couch. Something just opened the bedroom door. I can feel it staring at me, but I refuse to look at it. I’m writing this down to keep my eyes away from it. My heart is beating so fast I feel like I’m going to throw up.

  The apartment is dark, but I can see the long black of its form out of the corner of my eye. It’s just standing there like it’s waiting for me to acknowledge it.

  It’s going to kill me if I do. I know it will.

  It just giggled at me, the childlike sound ripping through the darkness. What eight-foot thing makes a sound like that? Why won’t it move? What does it want from me!?

  There’s something behind me, too. I won’t look, I won’t look, I won’t look. I need to keep my hands busy and focused on this so I won’t look.

  It sounds like there’s…three…behind me…

  I just need to make it until morning…just need to make it until the sun comes up…

  Day 11

  I…made it. I suppose. I…I don’t even know what to say.

  I called my doctor. Told him I finished the ten-day trial…told him about my horrible nighttime visitors…and…and do you know what he fucking did?

  He started laughing at me.

/>   Big, loud, gut-busting laughter. Once he got himself under control a little bit, he told me that the pills were harmless.

  He told me the pills were Tylenol.

  I sputtered, my mind expanding with possible reasons to this revelation and reaction from him. He started laughing again and I asked what the hell he was talking about.

  He said the whole trial was bullshit.

  He said it was a little game he had concocted for me.

  He said there was no hope for me.

  He told me that a paranoid schizophrenic like myself who suffered from chronic hallucinations deserved to be in an asylum.

  He told me that there was no helping me and that he just wanted to play off my illness, really wind me up, before recommending me to be institutionalized.

  I hung up to his howling laughter. My hands were shaking, sweating.

  I couldn’t fucking comprehend it. I couldn’t wrap my head around why he would do something like that.

  I thought I was getting better…

  The sane are an entirely different kind of sick…

  8

  Red West

  I watched as my son splashed around in the waves, the sun reflecting off the cool green water. Sean laughed as the waves crashed around his ankles and chased him up the shore. The ocean then pulled away, leaving trembling patches of sea foam that shuddered in the wind. The hot sand sighed with brief respite as the great walls of water curled in on themselves and fell, cooling the earth.

  My son Sean was five and I smiled as he screamed with delight, another wave chasing him up the beach and collapsing at his feet. The sun lit a cloudless sky and the water danced in its light. The sky was empty and blue, a vast stretch of perfect color.