“What the…” tried Wes, as the gaping wound began to shift.
“Go ahead,” came a voice from Dwight’s bloody torso.
It was voice as black as the night sky, warm as newly spilled blood and as sweet as rotting apples. Kim felt it tickle between her legs as it spit pus on her heart. The four assembled merely gawked in abject horror.
“Go ahead,” it said again. “Ask.”
“What?” Wes managed to feebly get out.
“Hmmm… almost. You scurrying mammals always ask the same things. Questions to quantify and qualify. ‘What, how, why?’ There are no answers. Perhaps it’s all pointless.”
“What?” Wes blathered again.
It laughed, wet and malicious. “Such small things, so scared. All you have are moments.”
One of the blackened tendrils shot up and then plummeted down into Dr. Homme’s damaged head. It began to suck the flesh out in a meaty grind, its own disease left in wake. The carcass seizured and began to void fluids and waste. A second dark tentacle came to lap up the spillage. Kim covered her mouth and nose to hold back a gag.
“Ah, it doesn’t matter, remember?” it said.
Kim’s eyes shot up.
“Now, which of you will be the betrayer? Who among you will abandon your friends and escape? Which of you would be free?”
“None of…” began Wes.
Kim spun and fled.
Behind, she heard Wes scream something, then she heard him really scream. She kept running. She skirted the vomited symbol as Maria’s voice was added and the bubbling, malevolent laughter overcame everything. Kim bolted out the doors, she herself now screaming and sobbing. Outside, the sudden chill and relative calm of the night was like a slap in the face.
She paused only for a second, then kept running. She had left her purse inside, so she didn’t have her cars keys. Didn’t have her apartment keys, money, license, anything. It didn’t matter. It doesn’t matter! Kim started laughing hysterical just as tears kept coming. She could run forever, but it would be pointless, right? That… thing could find her if it wanted. It could be tomorrow or in forty years or never. Or she could be hit by a freakin’ bus next week.
Kim collapsed by the side of road, giggling in between her sobs. She hadn’t really escaped, it had just wanted to see her damned and broken.
While she might be alive, she had seen behind the curtain and was now damaged by the knowledge gained. It doesn’t matter! She babbled to herself, over and over, eventually biting her tongue so bad that blood drained from her mouth. It doesn’t matter!
There on a length of grass along a state route in Logres, Ohio, a young woman lay with a violated psyche, her presence undetected for sometime until a passing driver called 9-11. There were no bodies found at the Thru-Drug store, no scenes of violence, no questions ever answered. None of the employees present that night, save Kim Reynolds, were ever seen again.
She never said a word, because she knew the truth. She knew that monsters had been out Trick Or Treating that evening and would do so again anytime they wished. She knew she had been given a few extra moments, as ruined as they were, and that in the end…
… it didn’t matter.
THE WOLFMAN’S WIFE
Sarah E. Adkins
Sarah E. Adkins earned a Master of Fine Arts degree in Creative Writing/Poetry from Chatham University in 2008, and a Bachelor of Arts in Writing from the University of Mount Union in 2003. She has published poems in Babelfruit, Plainspoke, The Pittsburgh Quarterly Online, and Istanbul Literature Review, as well as publishing reviews in Fourth River. Sarah lives in Ohio with her three cats, and enjoys skateboarding, Martial Arts, calligraphy, and making collages.
***
Alexandra Grayson pushed the old Subaru slightly over the speed limit to get to the grocery store, and her pace walking in was quicker than any of the other store patrons. She practically threw items into her cart and when she had everything she needed, her eyes scanned the available check out lines for the quickest option. She chose to use the self-checkout machine, but was behind an elderly woman who was moving very slowly.
“Here, let me help you,” Alex forced a smile.
“Oh, thank you, dear,” the old woman patted her hand and let Alex scan her items for her and bag them up.
Timothy Greyson finished stuffing a change of clothes into his gym bag, along with soap and shampoo, towels, a toothbrush and toothpaste. He zipped the bag and threw it over his shoulder and began pacing back and forth across the kitchen. He grabbed a banana from the counter and peeled it, took a few bites, then tossed the rest in the trash. Timothy looked at the clock on the microwave. He looked out the window. He let out his breath he didn’t know he’d been holding when he saw the Subaru pull into the drive way.
Alex pulled the grocery bags out of the hatchback and walked towards the two-bedroom-one-bathroom ranch house she shared with her husband of two years, Tim. Timothy met her half ways and grabbed more than half of the grocery bags and carried them inside. “What took so long? It’s almost time.”
“Well, hello to you, too,” Alex began putting away the cold groceries.
“I made it in plenty of time. Besides, I got stuck behind an old lady in the checkout line,” she offered.
“Well, that’s just great. I’m sure the neighbors would understand that.
‘Well, I’m sorry you were eaten by my husband, but I got stuck in line at the grocery store. If only it weren’t for that old lady, I would have made it on time. But I just had to get....”Timothy pulled an item from the nearest grocery bag. “‘ I Can’t Believe it’s Not Butter”. Yes, don’t you just love Fabio? Sorry about your dog. Fido was my husband’s appetizer when he turned into a were...’”
Alex cut him off by jingling the car keys inches from his face. “Just go now, or you’ll be the one making excuses.” She smiled at him, but her eyes betrayed her weariness.
“Right, dear.” Timothy grabbed the keys in his left hand and kissed Alex on the cheek. He pulled back and looked at his wife. “You’re amazing, you know that?”
She swatted him on the behind as he went out the door. No sooner had the door closed than it opened again and Tim poked his head in. “Lock the door,” he said, “there’s a bad moon on the rise.” He wiggled his eyebrows and pulled the door shut behind him. Alex heard the motor starting as she turned the deadbolt and then turned back to the groceries. She paused in her task to turn on the lights in the kitchen and living room, and then walked back to the master bedroom and turned those lights on as well. She flipped the television on to the evening news and resumed putting away the groceries.
Alex looked out the kitchen window at the moon. She pursed her lips together and turned to heat up the kettle for tea. Her body froze rigid when she heard a noise from the front of the house. She grabbed the biggest thing she could see at the moment, a large metal spatula, and tiptoed to check it out. The floorboards creaked as Alex approached the area she thought the noise had come from. She froze again. She felt a slight breeze. The front window was open a crack and the blinds were banging against the pane.