Of course shit got way crazy during Mr. Sheldon’s stay. And why not, Ms. Wilkes was pretty fucking crazy. I still giggle when I think of specific lines, long since memorized, long since giving me comfort every time I crack the book, which is usually once a year, if not just to read my favorite bits. I don’t know if Mr. King meant for certain parts to be funny, though I’d wager a foot and a thumb
(ha!)
that he did, and the dark side in all of us giggled devilishly with him.
It’s funny; even now I feel a small giggle could escape. I probably shouldn’t—for all I know, the three geeks could be three male Annie Wilkeses. But I think Señor Suppression may have given up, and Mr. Water Balloon Brain is getting fatter and fatter.
However, perhaps what’s stifling the giggle for now is that a third candidate appears to have launched a campaign in my warped little head, and his voice seems fairly strong.
Let’s call him Mr. Holy Shit That’s Fucking Ironic As Hell.
Why? Because Mr. Holy Shit That’s Fucking Ironic As Hell has just gotten to the podium and pointed out that after twenty years of dreading His arrival, I am now hoping for it.
9
I’ve named them. And the names are very original. Geek One, Geek Two, and
Geek Three.
Geek One is the guy who met me at my reading. The faded t-shirt of an alien giving the peace sign; the oxymoron exclusive to slothful males known as skinny-fat (huge gut with chicken legs, pipe cleaner arms, and no ass); the heavy five o’clock shadow (heavier now); thinning, greasy hair (greasier now); and frayed jeans hanging down the crack of his (no) ass.
Geek Two is tall and skinny and has long dirty-blonde hair. He’s wearing rimless glasses and has a pathetic goatee that needs to go. His shirt is a faded Futurama tee of a robot drinking a beer and smoking a joint.
I remember that show.
Geek Three looks a lot like One. Maybe an inch taller and a few pounds lighter. His hair is dark and thinning and greasy too. No heavy five o’clock shadow though. His shirt is a standard button down, wrinkled and untucked.
Geek One gets up from the rug and approaches. He removes my gag.
“Again, I’m sorry about the deception, Mr. Kale, but I’m afraid we didn’t have a choice,” he says.
“No worries,” I say pleasantly. “This happens all the time. I’m assuming you guys weren’t happy with the ending of the story? You want to hear more?”
They all exchange curious glances.
“Autographs?” I say.
“Mr. Kale, this is serious,” Geek Two says from the rug.
“The ending really bothered you, huh?”
Geek Three: “Mr. Kale, please.”
I say nothing. I know why they’ve got me, but I intend to play dumb until He shows. If He shows.
“Do you know why you’re here?” Geek One asks, taking his seat back on the rug.
“Not a clue.”
“We know your story wasn’t just a story.”
“Yeah—you alluded to that at Villanova.”
“So…?” Geek Two says.
“So what?”
Geek Three: “We want to hear it from you.”
“So this is story time,” I say.
“You wouldn’t be so flippant if you knew what was in store,” Geek One says.
I’m bait, I want to say. You’ve kidnapped me, hoping He will follow, show up, and then your half-breed buddy can do its thing. Pretty ballsy if you truly believe He exists and know what He’s capable of.
“What’s in store?” I ask, my eyes going all over the basement, spotting three doors, perhaps potential hiding spots for the half-breed. Will it make an appearance before He shows?
“I’m afraid we’ve tricked you,” Geek Two says. “We needed to draw Him out of hiding.”
“Him who?”
“Why do you insist on playing dumb?”
“Fellas…I really don’t have the slightest clue as to what you’re talking about.”
They all exchange glances again.
“Your story,” Geek Three says. “Him from your story.”
I sigh. “It’s just a fucking story, guys. Jesus, you really need to get outside once in a while.”
More glances at one another. Geek One nods at the other two as if they’re communicating telepathically.
They all rise and head over to one of the closets, the one furthest from me at the far end of the basement.
They’re going to show me.
My “flippant” persona—part-façade and part-real—plummets, and fear grips me instantly. I don’t want to see it. Earlier, I tried to imagine what it would look like. Now I’m terrified I’m going to find out.
Geek One opens the closet door.
I want to look away. Close my eyes. Yell for help. Yell for His
(Mr. Holy Shit That’s Fucking Ironic As Hell is climbing the polls big time…)
help.
But I don’t. I don’t want to give the game away. I keep my eyes on the open door. Adrenaline has started to bounce my feet. I feel like I might piss myself. My pulse is thumping everywhere. Señor Suppression has officially dropped out of the race. I want Mr. Water Balloon Brain to win. To pop! Give me that insane ignorance with a side order of who gives a crazy man’s fuck.
My eyes are on the open door. Black inside…like the first time I saw His kids twenty years ago. I think it might have been easier then; I didn’t know what to expect. Now I have an idea. A debilitating one.
“All clear,” Geek One calls into the closet.
Still nothing. Still just a dark open doorway.
I hear something. A voice. It sounds human. I can’t make it out.
Geek One repeats: “It’s clear.”
I want to yell, “How the fuck would YOU know! He could be right next to you, stupid!”
(And you want Him to be more than anything)
(Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. Holy Shit That’s Fucking Ironic As Hell is on fire!)
I can’t help myself—I close my eyes.
I hear something.
The shuffling of feet on carpet.
The closet door closing.
People approaching me.
“Mr. Kale?” one of them says.
My eyes stay closed. I can feel them standing around me. I can sense a fourth presence.
“Mr. Kale?” he says again.
Open your eyes, you pussy.
And then a woman’s voice: “Mr. Kale?”
My eyes snap open, and I’m looking up at one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.
10
Without thinking, I blurt: “Who is this?”
The beautiful woman stands in front of me, the geeks behind her.
“You can call me Anna,” she says.
Relief for what I’m seeing is short-lived. Confusion is now everything.
“Anna?” is all I manage.
She reaches forward and strokes my face. Her touch is like a bubble bath. The rest of her is ridiculously hot. Like supermodel hot.
She’s wearing a light blue sundress. Her lips are full and pouty. Eyes pale blue in a flawless face of smooth white skin, a striking and appealing contrast to hair long and dark and full.
This…this is all wrong.
“Who is this?” I say again.
“I think you know,” she says.
I don’t have time to catch myself, because I say, “But you’re…”
She cocks her head, gives me a coquettish, inquisitive look.
“You’re a woman,” I finish.
She smiles, and her pale blue eyes go from green to yellow to red to black and then to pale blue again.
“Still want to play dumb, Mr. Kale?” Geek One asks.
Yes. Because I am.
11
He lied to me.
His half-breed is a she, not a he.
Why? Why lie?
The confusion on my face is anything but subtle. Anna steps to one side and Geek One approaches.
&nbs
p; “He thinks Anna’s a male,” he says as though reading my mind. “We wouldn’t stand a chance without deception on our side.”
The game is well and truly up, so I don’t even try to make excuses. “So, you expect Him to show up, looking for a male, and instead He finds…?”
“He finds Anna,” Geek Two says. “He’ll ignore her, think she can’t see Him. Continue searching for a male. Then when His guard is down…”
“How can you be sure He doesn’t know?” I ask.
All three geeks exchange smiles, Anna too. “What did He tell you?”
“Fair enough,” I say. “But He could have been lying to me. The guy fucks with me constantly.”
Geek One puffs his flabby chest proudly. “You may think we need to get out more, Mr. Kale, but we’ve taken precautions. Put in tireless efforts. Made arrangements. Trust us; He thinks Anna’s a male.”
You guys don’t have the slightest clue who you’re fucking with.
“So is that the plan then?” I ask. “I sit here like bait, while you guys wait for Him to show? Wait for Him to slip up?”
They all nod.
“Sounds too easy. For all you know, He could be here now—listening.”
A look of worry hits two of the geeks’ faces.
Geek One looks more confident. “Anna would be able to see him,” he says.
I feel breath on my ear. Then: “Think she does?”
It’s Him. He’s here. Standing next to me.
I look at Anna. Her eyes are on me; not Him.
She doesn’t see Him.
Oh dear. You folks are about to get a serious, serious ass-whoopin’.
“And if she can’t?” I say. “What then?”
All three look at Anna.
She turns to them. “I can,” she says. “I have.”
All three turn back to me with confident smiles.
“There, you see?” Geek Two says.
And then suddenly it all clicks:
He said: “Think she does?”
She said: “I can—I have.”
I have.
As in: I’m looking at Him now.
She can see Him. Does see Him.
(Mr. Water Balloon Brain is not out of the running yet, people)
12
He appears. Not just to me, but to the geeks.
I know this because their faces are a sudden line of horror masks as they stumble backwards.
Geek One screams: “I can see Him! I can see Him!”
Geek Two screams: “Anna! Anna!”
Geek Three just screams.
Anna winks at me, eyes red, and steps aside.
He steps forward. “Evening, gentlemen.”
All three gawk back in frozen terror.
He points to Geek One’s feet. The sharp crack of bone is brief. Geek One cries out and collapses, writhing in agony. I can see blood and bone protruding from one of his socks, each foot twisted backwards, heels for toes.
Geek Two turns to run. To where, I have no idea. The closet maybe. He gets a few feet before the sharp crack of bone is heard again. He collapses too, even though his feet appear fine. His spine? Not so good. His torso is folded backward, stomach protruding as though he’s been impaled by a spear. Geek Two does not writhe in agony on the ground like his friend—paralysis has allowed only his face to contort, eyes wide, mouth opening and closing without words like a dying fish.
Geek Three drops to his knees and starts to beg.
“Anything,” he stutters, “anything…”
He approaches the kneeling man and places His large white hand over his forehead. “Are you begging me?” He asks.
Geek Three nods desperately. “Yes, yes, I am. Please…please…”
He looks over His shoulder at Anna and smirks. She smirks back. “I must be getting soft in my old age,” He says, taking His hand off Geek Three’s head and turning to walk away.
Geek Three’s eyes widen in disbelief. “Oh thank you…! Thank you!”
Anna lunges forward and kicks Geek Three in the face, taking his head clean off the shoulders where it rockets into the far wall, leaving a blotch of red before it hits the rug and lulls to one side, eyes open, one of them twitching involuntarily. The headless corpse remains on its knees for a tick, periodic pumps of blood rising and falling like a geyser before falling to one side in a convulsing heap.
Anna laughs.
Mr. Water Balloon Brain is almost there. I can feel it. Come on, man, pop. Pop!
He and Anna both turn towards me.
“What do you think?” He asks Anna.
She caresses my cheek again. I don’t flinch. I’m quite sure that inherent response is gone.
“Beautiful,” she says.
“I agree,” He says. “His spirit is strong. And he’s been prepared.”
I giggle. Don’t know why.
(almost there…)
They exchange a curious glance.
“Alex?” He says.
(almost there…)
I giggle some more.
(pop…PLEASE pop)
“Alex, are you ready?”
“Sure,” I find myself saying.
Anna kneels in front of me and begins to unbutton my pants, pulls them to my ankles. I look down and for some reason I have the biggest hard-on I’ve ever had in my life.
She strokes it a few times, then gets to her feet and takes a step back. She unhitches the straps to her sundress and lets it fall to the floor.
She has breasts but no nipples. No belly button. No vagina.
I flash on when I saw Him naked: no anatomical features of a man’s body except for his foot-long penis pointed at the tip like a devil’s tail.
What would be her trick?
I don’t have to wait long. Small doors of skin where her vagina should be open like a puzzle box. Something the size of a fist begins extending towards me. It stops after a few inches, the fist opening. It looks like a mouth. The lips
(labia?)
drip with desire as it creeps further like a python slithering in on its meal.
The mouth engulfs my penis, slides down the shaft.
I want to look away, want it to stop, but it feels…
The mouth squeezes tighter. I can feel something inside tickling the head of my cock. I feel an orgasm—brutally intense—building from the base of my spine.
I look up. Her head is tilted back in the throes of ecstasy, her body quivering.
My orgasm builds. I’m nearly there. By the looks of her, so is she.
For some reason I glance over at Him. He’s watching, smiling, approving.
I come and it’s the whole world. My body begins to shake uncontrollably and I actually cry out.
My head drops and I’m light-headed, feel as if I’m going to pass out.
When I look up again, she’s back in the blue sundress, standing off to one side, her flawless face content, eyes changing colors with each breath.
I look down and my penis is flaccid, shriveled. I still don’t understand how it got as hard as it did. Even when jerking-off—a forced act my body occasionally seemed to insist upon over the years—the most I could usually manage was half-mast, ending with a dribbling orgasm that was more pain than pleasure.
I look up and He’s standing over me. “Good?”
I nod, dumbfounded, dazed.
“Looks like I got you laid after all,” He says with a smile.
I go to say something, but Geek One cries out, cutting me off.
He looks furious at the intrusion on our conversation, snaps His fingers, and suddenly there’s a dripping red tongue in His hand. Geek One begins to moan and sputter. I look past Him and see blood pouring from the geek’s mouth. He rolls onto his stomach to keep from choking on his own blood. He vomits.
“What…?” is the only thing I can think of.
“So many questions, yes?” He asks.
I nod, still dazed.
“I’ll be happy to answer them. But first I’m afraid I’m late for a p
rior engagement.”
I give Him a curious look.
“Mom,” He says.
The daze breaks, Mr. Water Balloon Brain leaks, and I snap to. “What?”
“Your mother,” He says.
“No…no, you said…you said if I…” I’m stuttering, panicking—nothing, nothing makes sense.
Anna comes over and kisses my cheek. My flinch response is back, and I pull away from her. She only smiles and begins heading up the basement stairs.
“What the fuck? What the fuck?!”
He watches Anna leave, turns to me, leans in. His eyes are glowing red. He grins and says, “Why not sleep on it awhile…”
He touches my forehead and…
13
…
14
Mom…
15
“Mom…”
A hand petting my brow…
“Mom…?”
The hand running gentle fingers through my hair…
“Alex.”
Faint recognition that the dream world is receding…
“Alex, wake up.”
I open my eyes.
My mother is leaning over me, smiling, more radiant than ever.
“Mom?”
She pets my brow again. “It’s okay, sweetheart.”
Can’t be. Can’t all be a dream. The writer in me would positively refuse such an awful cliché no matter how fucked up my state of mind.
I ask anyway. “A dream?”
She continues to pet my brow, her smile broadening. “It’s okay now.”
“A dream?” I ask again.
And then His face joins my mother’s, smiling with her, eyes yellow.
I jerk upright and scoot back against what I now realize is a bed. “What the fuck!?”
“Alex,” my mother scolds.
“This is a big moment, son—no need for profanity,” He says.
Son?
“Hi, darling,” a voice behind them says.
It’s Anna, standing to one side, a white sundress this time. Her belly has a bump.
WARPED: A Menapace Collection of Short Horror, Thriller, and Suspense Fiction Page 17