A Long Night

I asked the doorman for a light, but he didn’t smoke. I just placed the cigarette between my lips and allowed its presence to calm me. Center my mind. My hands shook slightly at my sides as I released a breath I’d been holding for too long.

The night was over, and I was heading home. Bennett Vandermeer had invited me for dinner, on account of his being featured at the art gallery Pluto-Neon, and his need to shove my face in it.

I was standing, waiting for a cab, pulling my coat tighter around me. I waved one down as it came back around the corner, probably fresh from dropping off someone I would never know.

When I’d arrived Bennett had greeted me warmly, a friend of his, Louis, was already there, sitting at the couch with a snifter of scotch. “Oh Malak I’m so glad you could come! I do hope you like sushi!”

There was a platter set out with a wide array of sushi’s, which he was clearly displaying as though he had made them, but he was a painter, not a sculptor. I suspected they were from the sushi place three blocks over.

“Well I’m sure I can help put a dent in it.” I joked, faking a smile and following Bennett to the table.

As the cab came to a stop I climbed in. “Where to?” He grunted.

“Anywhere but here.” I handed him a fifty and sat back, looking back up at the beautiful facade of Bennett’s apartment building, before we pulled away and into the darkling night.

He had sat us at an oddly shaped table. It was perfectly round on one end but tapered to a rounded point on the other, like an egg. The platter sat centered in the rounded portion and Louis and I were forced to sit on the tapering side, with myself sitting nearest the end.

Bennett served the sushi to us along with tall glasses of wine, which Louis didn’t touch, focusing on his scotch instead.

“This tuna is Sashimi grade.” Bennett chimed as he placed a piece of said tuna which rested upon a bed of sticky rice before me. I doubted he had any idea what he was saying and was probably reciting what he’d seen on the menu.

I ate a piece and actually did quite enjoy it. That restaurant knew how to perfectly slice, roll, and serve its sushi so that each bite was a little glimpse of heaven.

I rubbed my face and sighed. It had been a long night. The streetlights flashed by, one after another after another. I breathed on the glass and drew on the fog which bloomed. A few lazy waves.

Bennett raised his glass halfway through the quiet dinner. “To artists! Creating the unseen, and always striving to better one another!”

I must have smirked because Bennett locked eyes with me. “You have something to say, Malak? After your little stunt at La Petit, I would think you of all people would admit how important it is to not snub your fellow artists. How many came to your showing? Oh, remember, your mother doesn’t count…”

I wiped away the doodle and looked down to my other hand, which lay, palm up, and trembling uncontrollably. The night had been… so long.

Louis was choking on a roll. Eyes bloodshot and face a rosy hue which was slowing turning blue. I stood beside him, hand jammed within his mouth, a grimace across my face. “Oh you’ll fucking see Louis! Silent neutrality does not mean you aren’t to be held responsible too! I know what you did! I saw the emails you bastard!”

Bennett was weeping and beating his fists upon my back. “Jesus, Malak, stop he didn’t do anything! You’re killing him! Fuck! Stop!”

I grinned as I saw Louis’s eyes roll back and felt his body go limp in my grasp.

There were still bite marks on the first knuckles of my left hand. I squeezed my hand shut and closed my eyes. Justified. I was justified. They had ruined me…

I was holding Bennett by the hair, head yanked back and dragging him to the sink. “You fucking ruined me, Bennett! You RUINED ME!” I turned on the water and shoved his head beneath the stream. He sputtered and screamed beneath the flow and I used one hand to jam a kitchen towel into the drain. It began to fill.

The cab stopped and I stepped out with a, “keep the change…” I was outside of my apartment building… I hadn’t told him where I lived. I looked back and the cab was already pulling away.

I turned slowly and walked to the door, keying in the code and opening the security gate with a squeal.

His head bounced once, twice against the bottom of the sink as I held him down and he tried to struggle free. I shoved his head down myself, and slowly the water began to turn red. I had never smiled so much in my entire, miserable life.

The stairs creaked as I ascended to the third floor, fishing my key from my pocket. As I reached my apartment, I grasped the doorknob and turned the key. It glided effortlessly. It was unlocked already.

I opened the door slowly. Beyond the frame all was shadows except those things silhouetted by the windows. I flicked on the hallway light…

I released Bennett’s lifeless corpse and spat on it. “Hey, at least your shit will be worth something now… you hack.” I kicked him hard in the temple and his body didn’t so much as twitch.

I turned to leave the apartment and trod upon Louis’s hand, hearing bones snap. No reaction. They were dead.

I was sitting there, in my arm chair, which was moved to the middle of the hall, smiling at me as I stood in the doorway, stunned and alarmed. “Oh you’ve… you’ve been very bad, haven’t you, Malak?” The smile I… he, was wearing was wide, almost too wide, and there was something in his eyes which worried me more than his inexplicable physical resemblance to myself.

One More for the Collection

A knife hissed through air

Inches from her face

“I always prefer those in their prime”

He mused softly

Eyes alight with something

It was red

And black

And full of hunger

“The skin of old people shreds like…

Wet paper”

His lip curled

As he pressed the edge

Of the cool steel blade

Against her cheek

Her eyes held something defiant

Brilliant and unwavering

Eagle soaring

Even so bound

And arms crossed

“I mean look at you

Skin so taught and tan

Ready for display

I’d say”

He turned and picked up a scalpel

Keen edge glimmering in candle light

“It’d make a fine prize…

But I think

I’d rather claim…

Your eyes”

Those eyes glared

Unafraid even in this

This horrible place

With such horrible words

He gripped her hair

And leaned in close

Blade edging closer

Closer

Closer to her eye

She kept them open though

And with a swift

And brutal movement

Yanked forward

And bit down upon his nose

Cartilage gave a sickening crunch

And the man screamed

Stabbing her shoulder with the little blade

But she held on

Eager for her prize

She twisted her head

And with a powerful tug

Came back with the majority

His face contained now

A bloody hole

Ragged and sputtering with air

He trembled as he grasped

And tried in vain

To staunch the flow

He stumbled back

With awkward gait

And collapsed upon the floor

She spat it out at him

Calmly she let go

Of the ropes

Which fell about her

In a loose coil

She stepped forward

And with a tug

Freed the scalpel from her shoulder

She knelt beside the man

Something sharp flickering in her smile

“Oh yes you’ll do nicely

Another monster

To add to my gallery…”

She growled low

Tracing the surgical steel

Ever so carefully

Around the curve of his chin

His eyes now filled

Brimming

With fear

Canning Methods of Old

“It’s best to begin it fresh. Canning preserves but doesn’t reverse” She growls, scratching her too-loose neck, skin scabrous and inflamed.

“I mean look at these beauties!” She holds up a jar, with tight packed digits of varying tone. “Got them packed in only an hour, and now they’ll keep for nearly a year…”

She sets down the jar and thumbs the stump where my fingers once were. “Oh yes yours will be nice crunchy and strong. There’s nothing like the fingers of a talented pianist”

She grabs the pile ten dripping digits, and shoves them into a briny bottle.

My vision slides blurs to the side. My final sight is her closing the lid.

Dear Little Danny

He was always the favorite

Dear little Danny

How mother doted on him

While I was left

Alone in the library

With my studies

And my thoughts

And my plans

All these years later though

I stand upon the precipice

Of a tall stone shaft

At the bottom of which lies

The broken body of

Dear little Danny

I can hear the tell-tale skitter

From the numerous holes in the walls

Before the multitudinous hordes

Spill forth

I watch the gruesome chaos unfurl

As he is devoured whole

Little more

Than a weak moan escaping his lips

Before he is gone

Remembered by none

Save me

And the rats which he fed

The House of Captive Hope

The children all knew its name

The orphanage which clung

Gargoyle-like

To the rocky pier

Not the name it proudly touted

Ms. Greyrock’s Home for Unfortunates

No the name it truly carried

Which spoke of pain

And loss

And those many souls

Which passed through its walls

Like meat within a thresher

The House of Captive Hope

HlcIndFeedSndMnDEC13.AVI

I stop beside a window

Eyeing my suit

Crisp and clean

Sharp

I’m sharper

Like knife

Like razor

Like oh so many wonderful things

I rake my hair with fingers

Pulled back

Taught to scalp

Bryl shine

I check my wrist

Display crawling over skin

21:11

Good

The case hangs heavy

At my side

All my dreams

So many scenarios

Delightfully wicked

Wonderfully realized

Packed into this little bundle

I continue

The snow shfffing softly beneath shoes

Black too and polished shine

I turn sharp

Eyes flicking up a moment

To CCTV camera

Over entrance

I grab hold of handle

Something inside it sizzles

Releases

I ease open the door

Collision

I stumble back

Fire

Black

Anger

“Oh soz darl!”

Her voice like sandpaper

Grating

Waifish little dreg

Black cloth over mouth

Hair orange flash

“Watch yer fuckin’ step!”

I snap hard

Eyes widen

I breath in harder

Slowly exhale

I gesture out door

“Get

Out”

She slips by

Soundless

Sidestepped

I smooth out my suit

And stomp up

Step by step

To second floor

216

Tenant: Novak

I kick in the door

A mess assaults my eyes

Wires crawling over floor

Ceiling bare save Coreboard

Lights LED and bright

And it’s empty

No Novak

The window stands open

Snowflakes drifting in

The air is cold

But that could be Aircon

On the desk

A beer

Dew pools on sides

Rolling down

Cold

Freshly so

On computer screen

The feed

From the camera

Downstairs

I curse

Moments too late

If only that little brat–

Wait…

Sulfur

The apartment erupts

I am thrown

Out the front door

Catapulted into wall

“Fuckin’ Runner…”

Play> Babysitter-Surveillance:DEC12/21:12

Feed cuts in

Fuzzy for a moment

Then snapping into focus

She was bound to the chair

Arms at her sides

Several wires lead from her head

Down

Over

And into a device

Sitting before a man dressed in black

He cleared his throat

In that way one does

When they know

They already have your attention

“Miss Liska are you with us?”

A smile spread over his lips

Slug like and unappealing

She grumbled lowly

Looked up with her eyes

Without moving her head

Eyes glum pools

Despair set in

Resignation

The only thing left to her

She knew what was to come

“Good good

Now let me see here…

You are in charge of…

Personnel intake at Ignis

Well here in the city at least.”

He flipped casually

Methodically

Through a file

Information printed upon

Pale papers

Fabricated from rice most likely

“Your recent interview

Interview ten-thirty-two”

Enunciating his words

With exaggerated elegance

Reminiscent of street thugs

Playing at posh

“You saw a mister…

Novak”

His eyes flicked to her

Scanning

Watching

Eyeing her for a tick

Recognition

He goes back to reading

“Quite the catch

For you

And yours…”

He said with something

Predatory

Biting

Behind his voice

“Why…

He singlehandedly

Decimated Tartarus…”

Slowly he closed the file

“Imagine…

What he could do

If unleashed…

On something…

Someone…

More valuable”

His eyes sharpened then

Stiletto stare

Cutting the distance between them

“Imagine the havoc

The chaos

Someone like that could inflict!”

He tossed the file on the floor

“Imagine how much money

That could cost someone…

And what those people…

Would do…

To him…”

He leaned over the device before him

Practically spitting the words at her

Venom shot through air

“And who they might hire…

To…

Locate such a man”

The smile returned

With some vinegar

Soured and surly

She said nothing

Stoic

Hard

She’d been through worse

It was plain on her face

“… That’s fine

You’ll talk”

He pressed a button

Screen light bouncing off of him

Cerulean effluence

Fingers fluttering over keys

Then a pause

Pregnant and ponderous

Then one last key

Branislava shook

Trembling full body

Eyes rolling back

Lids fluttering

Uncontrollable

Fists clenched hard

He let this go

For a minute

Then casually

Clicked

One more key

Her eyes flew open

Screams

She screamed so loud

Speakers peaking

Eyes filled with terror

Unbridled

Unhinged

She screamed

And screamed

And screamed

“Hey!”

He stood up and walked to her

Snapping fingers

Her head lolled side

To side

Eyes unfocused

He gave her a slap

Hard

Single clap

She gasped and breathed hard

Lungfuls

Sucking in

Exhaling fast

He grasped the sides of her face

“Where

Does

He

Live?”

Her mouth moved

Silent to me

He smiled

Yanking cords out

From external jack

Beneath her skull

“Was that so hard?”

He patted her cheek

“We’ll make it quick…”

I pause the video

Breathing slowly in

Staring at the screen

Stunned into silence

And out

What Lies Within Delver’s Deep

They dared me to go

Down into Delver’s Deep

Where mom always warned against

A set of tunnels that twisted and turned

Curling into the depths

I told them I didn’t want to

That I was scared

And it was dark

But they pushed me

They pushed me in

And I fell

I tumbled

Broken

And battered

I came to rest

So far below

And with not a light all around

The pain was all consuming

Wracking my fragile body

But after a bit

My eyes adjusted

And here on the walls

Grew fungus

Translucent

And effluent

I tried to cry out

But all the sound that I made

Was a miserable and defeated wheeze

Yet

Something heard me

A scuttling in the distance

Above or below

Or even beside

I could not tell

But definitely moving closer

Grandma’s words came

Her warning of this place

“They shut it up for a reason

Things crawl down in there

Things that God’s light never touched

And they’re a terrible sight

Enough to kill a man”

My breathing was ragged

As the sound drew closer

I shut my eyes tight

Taking my grandma’s words

As literal advice

The steps grew faster

Heavy breath coming with

A scrabbling scuttling sound

It rounded whichever corner

And stopped at the sight of me

I whimpered

Eyes shut oh so tight

As it slowly paced closer

I could feel its hot breath

And smell fetid stink

As it leaned over my cowering form

Something thin

And bony

Grasped my ankle

And I was dragged screaming

Into the dark

Flame’s Caress

Bleary eyed buzzing thump

Head a swarm of burbling bugs

Pain recognized shoots across

Tears through brain down my spine

Dark and damp and cold is what I notice

Once the pain plateaus so far above

I crouch and grasp about

For what I don’t know

But some part of me does

A small box rough on a side

I grasp and pull against my chest

Rattling inside little sticks

I smile as I pull one out

Pressing it under thumb

Against strike pad

As I pull it across

My nose notices something important

Something crucial

Acrid and bright

Vaporous and heady

Alcohol

Denatured

And coating all of me

Light and pain is the last I recall

Quint Tackles Writer’s Block

Furious boiling rage

Fists clenched and facing typewriter

“Damned words come out!”

Voice ripping static aside

Grasps sides with pale gloves

Set leaning down close to keys

“I’ll find you in there

You’ll come out

If I have to come in there myself

And drag you out screaming!”

The static then actually cleared

Teeth lining up on screen

Sharp toothed and dripping bile

Spreading slow and growling

The typewriter sits silent and stoic

Frustrated groan twirl away arms up in defeat

“Fine then!”

He grabs his port

Tipping back onto screen

Where teeth are open

Poured into

Past screen

Into mouth?

Or something close

Quint groans as he sets it down

Rubbing a glove over screen

“Give me SOMETHING!”

He bellows slapping the desk

Typewriter dings

As it reaches the end

“…

You’re mocking me aren’t you…”

He grumbles

Slouching back in his chair

He idly fiddles with a key

Gloved finger

Tracing its edge

Then depresses

Then another

Another key

And more

“I told you I’d get it out of you!”

He cries triumphantly

Fingers flying freely

And back we pull away and into the dark