Fossil Lake: An Anthology of the Aberrant (30 page)

THE RACK

Mike Meroney

There I lay tied-

spread on the rack-

screaming to the dark

with no turning back.

Next came a shuffle-

followed by light-

the whisper of a man-

"It's gonna be a long night."

A mask on his face-

all I saw were his eyes-

staring into mine

as if I were a prize.

He told me to scream-

encouraged with delight-

but instead I laid still-

paralyzed by my fright.

A knife in my face-

"You see this here blade?

It's time you were acquainted."

Then gashes were made-

into my flesh-

so intense it did slide-

ripping and tearing-

I could feel it inside.

Gouging so gory-

no time to befuddle-

my senses scraped raw-

as the blood dripped to puddle.

Pouring from wounds-

too many to count-

I lapsed into shock

as the terror did mount.

Then burning on skin-

patches now thinning-

acid to boil

and it's just the beginning.

Next came the laughter

and the glint of a sword-

screaming came after-

"Hope you're not growing bored."

The slice of the blade

slew the meat of my thigh-

slit up to the groin-

as if cutting a pie.

Right about then-

catapulting with shock-

quivering and bleeding-

the butcher, the block.

Screaming so fierce-

I then lost my voice

but the torture kept going-

as if I had a choice.

Next there were tongs-

on nipples with twist-

ripped off like paper-

then smashed on my wrist.

Bones now were broken-

left and then right.

My insides were burning

from the heat of the night.

The man held a pencil

with the menace of a spear-

his cackling would soften

as it jabbed in my ear.

I felt like my head

was going to explode.

The pencil broke off-

but the pain never slowed.

Praying for death-

my resulting behavior-

as the branding iron touched me-

there would be no savior.

Molten hot lava

that scorched all my flesh-

the stench of cooked meat

in my nostrils so fresh.

Next came the cuts

having skill of a laser-

slicing under my balls

with the edge of a razor.

To the top of my cock-

flayed like a steak-

no more dancing or romancing-

for this decapitated snake.

My head it was spinning-

as then I was released-

passed out from blood loss

like dead meat for a beast.

The nightmare not over

as it started again-

muffled voice in my good ear-

not really sure when-

and there was a face

staring right into mine.

I felt as if needles

were pricking my spine.

"Do you know who I am?"

The man over me said.

I just shook my head

because soon I'd be dead.

Muffled and wretched-

grotesque and with spite-

tears erupted from red eyes-

scorching skin that was white.

"You killed my boy-

he was tortured I'm told.

I showed you no mercy.

He was just nine years old.

We can't bring him back-

there's no need to repent-

but I'll feel so much better

'cuz to Hell you'll be sent.

Guided by hands

that helped raise my boy-

now I can sleep better

these hands helped destroy-

the one who crushed life-

that once felt so new-

took my reason to live-

that one it was you."

There was nothing to do

but lie there and bleed.

Even if I had wanted

there was no way I could plead-

for he cut out my tongue-

now I'm choking on plasma-

my lungs filling up-

hacking like I have asthma-

and as he stood crying-

I bled and I choked-

my being was scorched

from this man I provoked.

You see, I was a teacher

and his boy was my student.

I got carried away

with acts far from prudent.

First there was touching-

then screaming in pain-

it felt rather good-

you won't hear me complain.

But what can I say?

No harm there was meant.

Still I went overboard-

with most curious intent.

Mutilated and tortured

this poor fucker’s son-

and somehow he knew

that I was the one.

David was his name-

so young and so sweet.

A smile just like candy

that I longed to eat.

So yeah, deserve death?

I guess that I did.

Just throw me in a box

and nail shut the lid.

Now as I slip away

into torrid abyss-

the flames lick my soul-

as I'm greeted by kiss-

for now Hell is my home

and here I shall dwell-

the cracking of my bones-

most uncomfortable knell-

and wrapped there in flames-

forever lay screaming-

maybe I'll see David.

Ah, but I'm dreaming.

But this is no dream-

an eternal nightmare.

My life reeked of Hell-

now forever I'm there.

My only redemption

is there's no turning back-

my reward is my death

for a life drenched in black.

Slaved by desire-

I was fit to be tied-

now here I expire-

on this rack where I died.

Left now to rot-

from the sins of the past-

David wasn't my first-

but he would be my last.

BEAUTIFUL

John Claude Smith

“
Everything has its beauty but not everyone sees it.” – Confucius

We are beautiful.

We of nine limbs and three pleasant smiles. We, with we one great silver eye and many large breasts. We, one of a kind and special because of it.

We are beautiful.

They, male they and female they, sit across from we, ugly in they gray and navy blue fabric, ashamed of they naked flesh. We understand they shame, though. Two arms, two legs, two eyes, two of they, everything so uniform. Just like all the rest of they.

Not special like we.

Granmama made we clothing before we born, sewed shirts and pants, but we did not fit those clothes. We are different. Special. Granmama still made clothing, for hobby, in Granmama’s sewing room. But we always naked to show off we beautiful we.

They, male they and female they, are sent to we from social services, as Granmama said they would be. Initially, social services wanted to take we from we home in the heart of a city we have never walked. We have only seen out we one window and not often. It so disgusts we. They so disgust we.

This apartment, all we have ever known. Ever since Granmama died, it is as if in discovering we, all of they scrunch they noses and crinkle they faces in repulsion of such beauty. Granmama warned we they would not understand we. 

But Granmama left we well off, apartment paid for years, we only issue, missing Granmama and Granmama’s stories. So, social services sent the male they and female they to help we.

Granmama used to entertain we with stories of we kind. We beautiful we. Now, we have no idea about how to handle these things. Granmama made sure social services understood this much. Made sure we would get help. But because we cannot speak, they think we stupid. We are not stupid, we just cannot speak. At least not in a language as minor as they language.

We can think and we can listen and we can listen deeper into they minds. That is we language, within.

We of nine limbs and three pleasant smiles and one great silver eye and many large breasts, we are special and they are not.

Listening:

“There’s no way I’m staying here with that freak, Dan,” the female they says. “Can you actually tell me you want to look at it every day for who knows how long? Can you really comprehend such an anatomical atrocity? I mean, what the hell is it? It’s as if God tossed three, four…how many people into a blender and set it on mix and spat it out and…”

“She’s not deaf, y’know?” the male they who the female they calls Dan says.

“She? You gotta be kidding me. She’s about as much a woman as you are. Hell,

no way is she…is it even human.” We watch the female they fidget, wringing hands as if dirty. “I’ll quit first if Broggs thinks I’m cleaning shit from that thing’s ass. I’ll quit if he thinks I’m going to feed that thing. Those drooling mouths…” With we one great silver eye, we watch the female they face contort. So ugly is they.

“They can…she can feed herself.” Dan holds up papers as they say this. “It says here, she can feed herself.”

The female they shakes head again and again.

“Look. It’s the job. I need the money. Don’t bail on this one, Sarah. Don’t bail on me.”

“I’m not bailing on you. Just on that thing.” Staring at we again, yet not trying to. “Fuck! Doesn’t it ever blink?”

“Broggs’ll have your ass–”

“Screw Broggs. I’m out of here. This is one caregiver position I don’t care about.”

“Sarah…”

“No. No way. You can’t talk me into splitting shifts with you and
that
.” The female they who Dan calls Sarah shakes Sarah’s head some more and we watch Sarah rise swiftly from the hardback chair, glance at we with Sarah’s face twisted, and slam the door as Sarah leaves.

We watch Dan pull out Dan’s cell phone from Dan’s pants pocket, like Granmama’s cell phone that Granmama rarely used, and call they who is Broggs.

Listening:

“Sarah’s outta here. What? Yes…Yes, I’ll do the job.” Glancing at we, we smile. Dan’s look confuses we, so we listen deeper:

I
can’t lose this job, but why her. Why her? But I need the money. Can’t just walk away. Can’t. Tracy’ll kill me. But look at her. Look at her!

We know Dan’s confusion must be inspired by we beautiful we. Dan has a partner, the they he calls Tracy, and Dan must sense the strain being with we for twelve hours a day might impact on Dan’s relationship. Because we beauty is so overwhelming, even to ugly they. Even if they do not understand. Yet.

We watch Dan flip cell phone closed and Dan turns to we and says, “Well, according to the schedule, it should be time for your lunch.”

We smile with we three pleasant smiles and Dan’s face does what Sarah’s did. Dan must already be sensing the tension of being around we beautiful we. We spread we five arms out, an invitation for a hug we might find disgusting, but it is how we attempt to let Dan know it is all right. We also know we have taken a big step as Granmama said we would have to, in order to let they know we just want to be friend, even if they ugly. Granmama told we it was the only way we would be able to get along when Granmama gone. So we try for Granmama.

We will become friend to Dan.

After three weeks, we have grown accustomed to Dan. They other assistant, a female they called Doris, not so much. But Doris is mostly around while we sleep, only here to get we breakfast and help clean we in the morning. Dan shows up soon thereafter and spends the waking hours with we. Dan is dutiful and courteous. Dan even call we by we name, Belladonna. Doris grunts and has a face of dark clouds. Dan smiles.

Yes, we like Dan.

On this day, though, Dan is sad. Dan’s face is dark clouds as Doris’s face, but different dark clouds.

We listen deeper:

How could you leave me, Tracy? How could you go? I thought we were building a life together. I thought we were good to go.

And empty space. We listen deeper and sense empty space. We sad for Dan. We do not know how to help Dan, but think perhaps now a hug would help. We spread we five arms wide and welcome him into we embrace. He smiles but it is not a smile.

We listen deeper:

Empty space.

Later, Dan receives a phone call. We listen:

“I really can’t stay here tonight, Doris. Look …no, you look. You call Broggs. Have him send somebody down here now.” And pause, face shifting, clouds still dark. “Look, you know I normally would, but …” And pause, face shifting, clouds still dark, angry. Then awash in nothing, as if empty again. Or still.

We listen deeper:

Why argue with her? Going home isn’t going home? It’s no longer a home. It’s my private hell. Why not stay? Because you want to get plastered and bury your misery in the drink, that’s why? Your usual way out, Danny-boy. Fucking pathetic asshole!

We listen:

“Fine.” Shaking empty face. “Fine. But you need to be here tomorrow, and early.”

Dan closes his cell phone and sighs heavily.

“Aw, Belladonna,” Dan says, looking at we with empty eyes.

We roll on we many limbs behind Dan as Dan goes into the kitchen.

“It’s not dinner time yet,” Dan says.

We not thinking about dinner. We just want Dan to be happy.

We watch as Dan goes through cabinets up high. Dan brightens up. Dan’s face like sun breaking through dark clouds. Dan pulls down two bottles. We do not know what is in bottles, but Dan seems happy to have found them, so we happy for Dan.

Later, after dinner and when we are to go to bed, Dan helps we up into bed, tucks we in. Just like Granmama used to do. Dan turns off the light when Dan leaves, closes door, but not all the way. We feel anxious. Dan’s face so sad, but we do not know what to do to help Dan. Dan is we friend.

We lie in bed and listen:

We hear the rarely used television, voices, nothing more.

Time passes and sleep is near, when we keen ear holes hear Dan sobbing.

We quietly slide out of bed and roll into the room with the television. The lights are off, but the light from the television shines on Dan’s face. Dan is lying on the sofa and sobbing between swigs of whatever is in the bottle. One bottle is on the floor next to the sofa. It is on its side. Dan has already drunk that entire one. We wonder why Dan drinks from the bottles if it does not make Dan happy, as we initially thought they would.

We listen deeper:

Such clutter, such confusion. No clarity.

We enter the room, but Dan seems oblivious to we presence.

We approach Dan slowly. We do not know what to do but to try and be supportive. Let Dan know we know Dan sad and we sad for Dan. We want to help.

We step in front of the television. Light passes through we webbing between limbs. We are so beautiful.

Dan moans something we cannot make out and reaches up with Dan’s left hand to touch one of we many large breasts and moans again.

We not sure what to do, but Dan almost smiles. Perhaps this will make Dan happy. To admire we beautiful we. To finally understand we beautiful we.

Dan sits up and reaches out with both hands and touches one, two, and then all of we many large breasts. We feel blood rushing through we. We feel strange wetness in we vagina, which trickles down into we belly button. We do not understand, but now Dan seems happier and we want Dan happy. But this feels wrong. Not wrong, just different. Different.

We not sure what is going on.

We listen deeper:

We cannot hear Dan at all.

We breath grows rapid.

Dan rises up and with eyes that do not look like Dan’s eyes, smiles. We confused. We do not understand what we are feeling and why we cannot listen deeper.

Dan pulls Dan’s shirt over Dan’s head and shows us Dan’s nakedness. We are repulsed. We want no more of this.

Dan unzips Dan’s pants and slips out of them. Dan slides down Dan’s other, smaller pants. Dan is completely naked and not ashamed as Dan should be. So ugly. So ugly. We want to leave but Dan moves closer, hands caressing we many large breasts. We are confused. We do not understand sensations. Dan’s body is hard against us. Dan wants hug now, but we do not want hug now. Something wrong. Something different.
No, something wrong.

Then Dan pushes we to sofa and as Dan massages too roughly now we many large breasts, Dan seems in a frenzy as Dan puts Dan’s penis in we vagina.

We many limbs try to push Dan away, but then in we confusion, we feel something different. Something so different.

We do not know what this feeling is, but Dan seems to feel it, too. All of a sudden, we feel as dark clouds pouring rain sunlight burning silver like we one great eye and Dan screams and we feel within we Dan wet, too. Wet with force. Hot within we vagina. We feel we –

– changing.

We flesh begins to melt. We many limbs and many large breasts feel liquid. We vagina clenches Dan’s penis and Dan screams even louder, a sound like nothing we have ever heard. Dan seems hurt. Yet Dan seems to want more hurt. We cannot help we body. We have no control. We continue to clench Dan’s penis but we body is changing, melting, melting away …

“Oh, my God,” Dan says. We reach up to push Dan away even as we vagina holds on to Dan’s penis. We reach up to push Dan away and only two arms push Dan.

Dan smiles in a way we have never seen.

We listen deeper:

We hear nothing still.

What is going on?

We finally pull we body from Dan, Dan’s penis still erect as it has been since Dan’s intrusion. Dan’s trespass. We stand and look down on we and see two arms, two legs, two breasts …

We scream, a sound never emitted from we. We scream and it is a scream of anguish. Of rage.

“What have Dan done to we?”

“Belladonna, you can talk!”

Dan seems happy about this, too. Dan seems so happy now. We not happy, though. We not happy at all. We feel so wrong.

“What have Dan done to we?”

Dan reaches up to we, standing now, hands touching we on sides. Eyes taking in we ugliness.

We scream again and run to kitchen.

“This cannot be, Dan. We are no longer beautiful.”

Dan chases us into the kitchen.

“Beautiful? Oh, Belladonna, you are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

“We are not beautiful women. We are repugnant. We want we back,” we say, as we turn and shove knife into Dan’s chest.

Dan stumbles backward, falls. The look on Dan’s face is shock. This is what we feel, so perhaps Dan understands we sadness. Perhaps Dan understands what Dan has done to we.

“Belladonna,” Dan says, gurgling and spitting blood from Dan’s mouth as blood gushes from Dan’s chest.

“We are not we beautiful we anymore. And we need to be we beautiful we again, Dan,” we say, as we drag Dan to Granmama’s sewing room, even as Dan squirms defenseless below we.