The Pits (Part 7)

He ran around some of the rooms on the first floor. He knew there was a second floor, but he’d already made one stupid decision going into the house in the first place. The startled teen was not about to make another mistake by going upstairs where it would be more difficult to escape. Max found a vent just big enough for him to fit in if he sucked in his gut. And it only had one screw of the four it took to hold the vent secure.

            “Dumb decision number two…” he growled to himself. “What a fucking day.”

            Max pushed the vent’s opening over to the left and up and slid into the duct feet first while holding his breath. Only about two seconds after he had slid the vent back down did the front door open, and a tall older man walked in, dragging something behind him.

            ‘He’s pretty built, for an old guy,’ thought Max as the old man picked up what he was dragging by a different spot. Max could see now that it was a person. One of the cultists. The man walked up to the vent.

            ‘Fuck! He found me!’ Max tried to push himself further back into the duct without making noise but found he couldn’t go any further than where he already was. He couldn’t close his eyes, even though he really wanted to. But the man never opened the vent, like Max was expecting him to, which kind of through him off. ‘What’s he doing?’

            SMACK!

            Max nearly vomited at the sight of what lay before him on the other side of the vent. It was one of the cultists. Except his lower jaw was torn off, leaving his tongue dangling where ever gravity decided it should go. His left arm was missing, and he was wearing a bear trap on his right leg like it was the next big fashion trend. The destroyed body in front of Max wasn’t even dead, yet. That was the worst part—at least for Max. The cultist’s eyes were wide and nearly bulging out of his head, staring Max directly in the eyes. He looked like he was trying to scream but was in so much pain that no sound could leave the gaping hole that was once a mouth.

            The half-dead cultist’s blood was pooling quickly around his head, travelling straight for the vent. When Max was finally able to avoid looking at the train wreck of a body on the other side of the vent, he noticed the blood. It was coming toward him.

            ‘What if it gets in here,’ he asked himself. ‘What if the old man tries to open the vent to clean it up? What. The fuck. Do I DO?’

            Max began to panic more at the thought that the blood would seep into the duct. ‘If it gets on me I might leave a trail when I get o-!’ His frantic thoughts were cut off by a splattering of blood, bone, and brain matter hitting him in the face. Max’s eyes shut automatically when he felt the gore paint parts of his face. He wiped it off with his hand and attempted to wipe it off onto the wall of the duct as he looked back towards the cultist.

            He no longer had a head.

            The old man stomped one of his boots onto the dead man’s head, obliterating it on impact.

            Max blinked several times, the understanding of the situation sinking in slowly. The panic Max felt caused his heart to beat faster than it did when he was running through the woods and he felt a scream clawing its’ way up his throat. But before it could be heard someone else began to scream instead.

            “Where am I?” They asked. “Let me the fuck outta here! Please, please, please! I’ll do whatever ya want! Just please let me go!”

            Max could hear the person sobbing. The voice sounded familiar.

            “Look, dude! My friends are out there, somewhere! I gotta find them! I…I think I lost them, and It’s all my fault! Please, you gotta let me go,” the voice went back to uncontrollable bawling for a while, causing the old man to grunt in annoyance and head towards the stairs.

            ‘It’s Gio! It can’t be anyone else. He’s alive! And now that psycho is probably gonna kill him!’ Max looked through the open door. There was a truck parked with the bed closest to the front door. ‘The tail lights are on! The truck is running!’ Max thought for a second about leaving Gio there and taking the old man’s truck. Part of him felt he was justified. Like Gio left them on purpose. And now, Simon was dead.

            “NO!” Gio yelled. “Please don’t… I don’t wanna die… Jesus, please!”

            Hearing that changed Max’s mind. He’d never seen—well, heard—the big bully he called his friend so scared that he suddenly became religious. And maybe Gio lost them on accident like he kind of said a minute ago.

            Max opened the vent, and pulled himself out, getting covered in more blood and gore in the process. He then stood up and stared out of the door at the truck.

            “Last chance, moron,” he whispered. After a few seconds, he took a step forward, actually planning on getting in the truck and driving away. But he heard something akin to a punch being thrown, and Gio stopped crying for a moment. Max’s heart broke. He sighed, turned towards the stairs he told himself he’d never go up, and began walking as quietly as he could.

Shadow Man (part 1)

“All I remember is a flash of red, getting the wind knocked out of me, and not being able to get up…” Jesse mumbled as the doctor helped him sit up in his bed.

            “That’s completely normal,” the Dr. Ross said. “An accident like that often causes your brain to hit the inside of your skull, which results in loss of memory. In all honesty, I’m surprised you don’t have more injuries than just your broken arm.”

            “Yeah, I guess I got lucky,” said Jesse looking into his lap.

            “The man who hit you is in prison, at least for now. DUI, I think.”

            Jesse nodded his head, leaning his head back against the bed. “I’m not sure if that makes me feel better, but I guess it should.”

            “Well, it’s not as good as preventing an accident, and he didn’t apologize…” said Dr. Ross as he walked to the other side of Jesse’s bed. “...but it’s something. And, in any case, you get to go home today!” Dr. Ross smiled.

            Jesse smiled and blushed a little still looking down. He appreciated Dr. Ross doing everything he could to make him feel better, but he couldn’t bring himself to look the man in the face. Jesse liked his doctor, but Dr. Ross also reminded him of his Uncle Julian. And that was something Jesse didn’t want to think about.

            “Alright,” Dr. Ross scribbled something on a paper on his clipboard. “Everything checks out, so I’ll finish the paperwork, and you can finally get out of here.” He flashed Jesse another one of his genuine smiles.

            Jesse blushed again, “Thanks.”

            “Don’t mention it. Now, I’m also going to prescribe some Percocet for any pain you might feel. Be sure to call if you still feel pain relating to your accident or if it gets worse. Like, if your back pain comes back; something like that.”

            “I will,” Jesse nodded. Not that he’d actually take it. He’d been on Percocet before and hated the withdrawal that came with it.

            “I’ll leave you to get dressed,” said Dr. Ross.

            “Okay. Thanks again.” For the first time since he’d gotten there, Jesse looked directly at Dr. Ross, and returned the smile he received from the doctor.

            “No problem,” Dr. Ross was pleasantly surprised. Until now, he’d thought Jesse was one of those teenagers going through a rebellious phase, and worried he’d have to deal with a kid with an attitude problem. Glad this wasn’t the case, Dr. Ross left the room, and closed the door.

            Jesse got out of bed, and took off the hospital gown. He hated the feel of the paper-plastic amalgamation that reminded Jesse of a grocery store’s checkout counter. But before he could but he could put on the clothes his parents brought for him, Jesse noticed something dashing across the room from the corner of his eye. He turned around, looking for thing that caused the dark grey shadow, but didn’t see anything that wasn’t already there. ‘Well shit,’ Jesse thought. ‘Maybe I’ve been stuck in this room too long.’

 Suddenly, the door to his room opened, and in came his mother and father, excitedly talking about finally bringing Jesse home after his week in the hospital.

“What are you doing just standing in the middle of the room in your underwear?” Jesse’s dad asked.

“I was getting dressed!” Jesse replied more than a little panicked.

“Well hurry up so we can go home!” Jesse’s mother “I told everybody you were getting out of the hospital today!”

“Who is everybody?” Jesse almost yelled. He wasn’t the type to be comfortable in big crowds, and the thought of suddenly being surrounded by people made his heart beat more rapidly than it did when his parents walked in on him mostly naked.

“Oh, just grandma and grandpa…” Jesse’s mom said.

Jesse relaxed a bit. “Oh…I guess that’s not bad.”

“And your Uncle Julian, Aunt Gloria, and your cousins…” Jesse’s dad added.

Jesse’s heart sunk upon hearing his Uncle was going to be at his house, and secretly hoped that he could just hide in his room.

“Please tell me that’s it…” Jesse groaned.

“Almost. We invited your friend Olivia to come, too.” Jesse’s father wiggled his eyebrows at his son.

“It’s not like that,” Jesse said quickly, picking up on his father’s obvious insinuation.

“Sure, it isn’t,” his dad winked.

“It’s not.”

“Hurry and get dressed!” Jesse’s mother said

Jesse did, ignoring his mother every time she asked if he needed help. Even with a broken arm he felt too grown up at fifteen to ask for his mom’s help getting dressed. As soon as Jesse was dressed, and the paperwork was completed a nurse brought him a wheelchair and wheeled him out to his dad's truck that was pulled up in front at the curb near the front doors. It embarrassed him at first, but he soon forgot about the awkwardness of the situation when he noticed another shadow in his peripheral vision. Jesse thought it was a cat, but wasn't sure. He didn't get a good look at it, nor did he think there would be a cat in a hospital. 

"Is something wrong?" the nurse asked Jesse when he turned in his chair.

"No, I just thought... It's nothing," he replied thinking he would sound crazy if he told her what he thought he saw. The last thing Jesse wanted was to be kept in the hospital for a longer period of time.

Jesse's dad helped him out of the chair and into the back seat of his truck, buckling him in as the buckle was on the side of his broken arm. He smiled to himself. 

"I haven't buckled you into your seat since you were six or seven." 

"You're loving this way too much," Jesse said rolling his eyes.

"And you're growing up too quickly."

Jesse looked his father in the face, noticing the wrinkles that weren't there before. 'You smile too much, old man. I love you, though.'

As the family drove away, Jesse's parents talked excitedly about everyone seeing their son now that he wasn't stuck in a hospital. He let them talk, while he watched the world pass by the window. Every now and again he'd see a dark grey blob out of the corner of his eye. He'd ignore it, mostly. Until he could swear he saw a shadow-like claw reach over and tap the window before disappearing. Jesse turned quickly to see what it was that he saw. 

"I'm definitely not taking those meds," he said. "I'm hallucinating enough as it is..."

"What did you say, mijo?" His mother looked slightly concerned. 

"Nothing. Just that we should visit the restaurant we passed someday."

"You'd almost think they were starving you in that hospital," she laughed.