thinking, ponder, ponderous, Archemides

The Hole in the Wall 20

In the darkness, April watched through the mirror into the living room of the house.  The policeman had stopped kicking at the door.  He stood motionless for a while, listening for some indication as to where they had all gone.

 

Unsure of anything other than the fact that he was trapped in the house, cut off from his partner and in danger; the officer pulled his pistol.

“If you’re in the house, come out, now,” he shouted.  But who was he shouting at?  A woman he’d only handcuffed moments ago?  Children?

“Hello?”  A voice came from the dining room.  “Hello.”

The officer spun, pistol in hand.  It was dark, but he was sure there was something under the table.  “Come out, now,” he ordered.

“What’s your name?”  A little boy asked.

“I’m Officer Cole,” the policeman said.  “A cop.  I’m a good guy.  What’s your name?”

“Jacob,” the voice answered.

 

In the darkness, Brutus grabbed April by the arm and squeezed tight.  “Do you want him to die?”  Brutus asked.  “Eaten up, so yummy, yummy?”

“No,” April whispered.  She watched the man she knew or thought to know as her husband.  Her mind struggled to come up with an explanation.  Either way she couldn’t let him be killed.  “No,” she repeated.

“Help me make the others go away,” Brutus said.  “Jacob and Cynthia.”

“The other children?”  April questioned.

“Put them back through the doors,” Brutus said.  “Make them.”

 

“Why don’t you come out, Jacob?”  The officer tried.

The boy crawled out from under the table and stood.  He began to cross the room, and in the first step, the officer knew something wasn’t right.  Jacob’s strange gate swung him sideways; back and forth.  And what the officer finally saw, was nothing his mind could comprehend.  It had no feet, but segmented extensions of its limbs bent at a ninety-degree angle.  Where each joint might be, was another segmentation held together by a thin membrane.  The same with its hands and fingers.  Writhing and squirming in a weak attempt at mimicking the human form.

“Hello,” Jacob said, from no discernible orifice.  Its head was more like one large round segment bobbing in the air.

And then his finger just flinched and jerked on its own.  Until the bullets were gone and Jacob was on the ground.

“Oh God, oh God,” the officer felt like he was about to collapse.  Part of him was telling himself that he just shot a little boy.  Maybe he was deformed?  Maybe he was hallucinating.  He needed to see.  He needed to will himself the strength to go and look.  Just one foot in front of the other.  And another.  Check him.  Check for a pulse.

thinking, ponder, ponderous, Archemides

The Hole in the Wall 19

“Do I know you?”  The police man asked again.

“Do you?”  April question.

The confusion vanished from his face, and he asked, “Are you on any medication?”

“What?  No,” April replied.

“Have you been drinking?”  He asked trying not to sound accusing.

“Mommy, you’re missing the show,” Brutus interrupted.

“It’s okay, son,” The policeman said to Brutus.  “I just need to look around and make sure everything is fine.”  Then to April he said, “Can we turn on some lights.”

April took a step backward, not sure what to do, but knowing that if he saw Brutus everything wouldn’t be fine.  She took another step back.

“Mommy says I turn to TV on too loud,” Brutus said, but no one believed him.

And April took another step away.  The police man set his hand on his pistol.

“Ma’am, you need to stop,” he said to April.

April couldn’t control herself, the need to run became overwhelming.  Before she could turn, the officer stepped forward, grabbing her by the arm.  For the first second he tried to be delicate, and then as they struggled, he noticed the blood.  Both of them froze.  April because she knew what was about to happen; him because he couldn’t believe it.  Peering over the furniture, he saw the body of the woman Brutus had killed.

“You’re under arrest,” the policeman said, his training kicking in.

With a series of fluid movements, he brought April down onto the ground, face first and handcuffed her.  Quickly he patted her down and then prepared himself to search the house.

“What’s going on?”  Cynthia asked as she appeared from the shadows.

April was almost as startled as the officer, who drew his pistol, but stopped short of aiming.

“Jesus,” he swore.  “Scared the…  How many children do you have?”

At the same moment, another child’s voice called out, “Hello?”

By now April was visibly shaking.  She looked the police man in the eyes and said, “I don’t have any children.”

“What?”  The officer’s voice was tense.

“I don’t have any children,” April repeated.

The policeman looked around to see that Cynthia had suddenly crossed the room to within arm’s reach.  She was looking up at him with a smile.  Brutus had also moved from the couch, but he couldn’t spot him.

“Is this a new game?”  Cynthia asked.

“What’s your name?”  The voice called out.

“No,” Brutus said from somewhere in the house.  “No, no, no.  This is mine, this is mine.  Go away.  Go home.”

“But Brutus…,” Cynthia whined.

“You can’t have them,” Brutus screamed.

“John,” the police officer shouted, hoping his partner could hear him from outside.  “John.”  He grabbed his radio to try again.  All the while, instinctively he had moved to the front door.

“Leave.”

“Brutus?”

“Hello?

Somewhere in the house a window shattered.  The police officer grabbed the doorknob only to find that it wouldn’t turn.  He pulled and twisted as hard as he could.

“Leave.”

“Please?”

“What’s your name?”

The officer kicked at the door, and he kicked again.  Then suddenly everything went quiet.  When he turned to look, they were all gone.

Surprise

Literary Interlude

Well, we’re coming to the last 6 parts of The Hole in the Wall.  Have you figured out all the twists?  Do you have any clue what is happening?

You probably didn’t know that I write these on my phone, sitting in my car, waiting for someone to open the doors at work.  But every year daylight savings throws me off, and I was running late today. I am storyless.

So now, this seems like the perfect time for an announcement.  After several rounds of editing, I have completed the print layout for my new novel.  All there is left is the ebook and the cover.  If all goes as planned, the release should be before the end of the month.

Absolute Power: Book 1: Origins

Taking place in a world where Super-Humans are a reality, Absolute Power is a 4 book series.  It rides the gray areas of politics, society and humanity.  Filled with a variety of characters, there interwoven stories tell tales of love, friendship, mysteries and secrets.

thinking, ponder, ponderous, Archemides

The Hole in the Wall 18

Here’s a pre-Halloween present to celebrate the horror!

——————————————————

I woke once to the sound of running water.  The sun was high overhead.  Melody was sitting on my chest doing her best to clean my wounds.  Her rough tongue scratched at the torn flesh.  But inch my meticulous inch, she worked, stopping only to dip her paw in the water.  She rubbed the water over her face, cleaning herself from the blood.

Managing to lift my hand, I slowly touched my face.  The skin, and some muscle, was gone all the way to my cheek.  All I felt were teeth when I searched for my lips.  When I realized my nose was gone too, I gagged and vomited; snorting out blood till I passed out.

The next time I woke, I was lying in a field of grass.

“La, la, lalalala,” a little voice sang.

“Meow, meow, meow meow,” Melody sang back.

The little girl, Cynthia and Melody were sitting next to me singing together.  They both saw me stir and turned their attention.

“I’m glad you made it back, Jacob,” Cynthia said.  “Are you feeling better?”

I was in fact, strangely well.  And for a moment I thought it had all been a dream.  I touched my face to find it wrapped in bandages.

“We played doctor,” Cynthia informed me.

“You saved me from Brutus?”  I questioned.  “You knocked.”

“I knocked, and you came,” she said.  “I knew you would.”

“Why did you help me?”  I asked.

Cynthia frowned.  “Brutus and I used to be best friends,” she said.  “We used to play all the time.  Then he got hurt, and he didn’t want to play anymore.  He grew, and now he’s just a bully.”

“What is this place?”  I asked, hoping she was ready to explain.

“Oh, Jacob, you’ve been gone too long,” she said.  “We can’t have that.”

“But…” I started.

“But you’re still missing your pretty wife,” Cynthia finished for me.  “All you have to do is find the right door at the right time.”

I struggled to sit up.  “How do I do that?”

“You just have to go to a long time ago,” Cynthia said, but nearby.  Here, I’ll show you.”

She took my hand, pulling me to get up.  We walked across the field.  It must have been summer here, where ever we were.  Butterflies flittered from flower to flower.  A soft breeze rustled through the foliage.  We approached a large tree standing alone.  Cut into the trunk was an odd shaped door.  Cynthia pulled it open, but Melody led the way.

“Meow,” Melody said, seeming to sense that this was the right direction.

Inside, the hallway was made of gnarled wood, and Christmas lights were strung up along the walls.

“I still don’t understand,” I said.  “Have you always lived in this place?”

“We always have, always are,” Cynthia replied.

We reached the end of the hallway and this time I pushed the door open.  I stepped outside once again.  Now it was dark and the air chilly, but there in front of me was my house.  I turned to see that I had emerged from my tool shed.  Melody darted out onto the grass she remembered.  Cynthia stood in the door way smiling.

“Always are?”  I said confused.  “And what are you?”

“We are the eaters,” Cynthia said.  “We are what happens when they stand and stare into the darkness for too long.  We are there staring back.  And we are hungry.”

It must have been in my eyes, or maybe I took a step backwards.

“What?”  Cynthia asked.  “What?”  Her voice got louder.

Quickly I slammed the door closed in her face.

“Jacob,” Cynthia screamed.

My hands trembled and fought to snap the padlock into place.

“Jacob, what are you doing?”  Cynthia pounded on the door.  “Jacob.”

The lock clicked, and the shouted stopped.

thinking, ponder, ponderous, Archemides

The Hole in the Wall 17

The only way out was back in, and still I hesitated.  My mind was working on a way to believe that I could break out of this house and passed this thing.

Even after smashing through the wall, the creature continued to stand in the hallway watching me.

Behind me the floor boards creaked, and before I could turn, I was thrown into the air.  I slammed head over heels into the dining table.  Laying on the ground for a moment, I tried to reorient myself.  Two large clawed feet moved in my direction.

His throat buzzed as Brutus came toward me.  I watched him search, seeming only to know where I might be, and not where I actually was.  The joints of his shoulders swiveled in unnatural directions.  They rotated up and twisted right, working as antennae, feeling the air.

Before I moved, I needed a plan.  He was between me and the door.  As long as I stayed out of his reach I should be fine.  So, I needed a distraction.

The instant I lifted up the chair, Brutus’ arms shout out straight, pointing in my direction.  Quickly, I threw the chair away from me; the noise caught Brutus’ attention.  Then I ran.

The faceless man had moved into my path while I wasn’t paying attention.  He grabbed me by the shoulders and held me tight.  No matter how hard I struggled or kicked, he held strong.

“Jacob,” Brutus hissed then with one hand stuck me on the side of the head.

The faceless man and I stumbled sideways into the wall, and still he wouldn’t let go.  Brutus took another swipe, this time hitting me in the ribs.  A third blow hit me under the chin, and I felt myself falling, falling into the darkness.

A second later I opened my groggy eyes to see Brutus.  His hands were on my chest, groping up to my neck and then my face.

“Jacob,” he said.

He lifted me into the air by my head.

“Please,” was all I could manage to say.

“Thank you, you’re welcomed to some sweet revenge,” Brutus replied.

His mouth opened wide; a hundred pointed teeth shone white.  Down inside, Brutus’ throat was made up of a series of holes.  The extended and pulsated like suckers, anticipating a meal.  He twisted my head to fit inside his gaping maul.

It felt at first like I had been hit in the face with a bucket of ice.  The sharp burning sensation of your nerve endings firing all at once.  And then the numbness fades to be filled in with pain.  The sting of the air on your open flesh.  The stabbing throb of blood flowing freely.  The blinding panic of your mind.

Brutus dropped me to the floor, and I landed hard on my knees.  It wasn’t enough to distract me.  I wanted to hold my face to stop the bleeding, but the fear was too much.  The fear of what I would or wouldn’t find there.  Blood drizzled down into my hands.  Brutus roared.  I tried to cry, and all that came out were mumbles.

Then amongst the chaos, a familiar sound.  A pitter patter, and sing song.  Melody was running around me frantically, singing at the top of her lungs.  I felt Brutus shift and take a swing.  Melody ran off across the room, and Brutus stomped after her.  I could hear him trashing and smashing everything that he crossed.  But Melody had run around already, she hit me full force, over and over, urging me to go.

He hadn’t taken my eyes, and I finally dare open them.  There was blood everywhere, and I left a trail as I struggled to the exit.  Melody continued to lead Brutus in circles.  I kept moving, closer and closer to the door.  As I opened it, I turned to see Melody sprinting at me.  The instant she was through I slammed it closed.  And once again I fell, back down on to the mud, down the inclined to hell.