is anyone holdin'? is holden caulfield coming to the party?
Cocoon
Derek and Kristen stared at the thing intently, bewildered.
“What is it?” she asked.
“A bug… I think.”
“You don’t sound too sure.”
They had found it floating, dead, in the pool. It was nine inches long, as thick as a garden house and a sickly shade of green. A white powder dusted its body, growing heavier and eventually snowed in all around the sharp, half inch stinger at the thing’s end. The head featured four mandibles, with additional, smaller stingers around the neck.
“Looks poisonous,” was all he could add.
“Well, did you ask me here to investigate or to swim?” Kristen asked, hand on her hips. Derek snapped out of his interest, just barely. He was only fifteen but had still managed to develop an unhealthy idol worship for his next door neighbor’s sixteen year old body. She was blonde, too, he loved that.
“Are you sure you want to swim in there? He might of infected it.”
“He? It’s not a he, it’s an it. And don’t be such a child.”
“You’re hardly older than me,” he countered.
“A year.”
“Nine months.”
“That means I was being born while your parents were making you,” she said with a cruel laugh. Derek made a disgusted face.
“Please don’t put it like that.”
“Okay, how about… I was taking my first steps while you were crawling out of your mother’s--”
“Okay! Enough. Let’s swim.”
“How is your mom, anyways? With the new baby and all.”
“I don’t know. Fine, I guess. She’s tired and I hear her crying a lot.”
“Depressed,” Kristen stated flatly. “My mom was depressed when she had me, too. Probably because she knew I’d be her greatest achievement, and she was only nineteen. I’d be depressed too. I don’t know why your mom’s depressed, though, she’s old enough to be having her second kid, isn’t she? She’s pretty old, isn’t she?”
“Can we talk about something else?”
“Sure. How about this?” She leaned in real close and kissed Derek on the neck, very slowly. She did it for awhile and Derek felt almost lightheaded. After a few minutes she stopped and looked at him, then she sort of laughed.
“Cute,” she said.
“Oh, boy.”
Then she jumped in, making a great splash, and he followed.
An hour later Kristen went home and Derek sat with his feet in the pool, thinking. He heard the screen door slam and looked up.
“You forgot to bring the trash in.” His mother was standing there. She looked absolutely cross.
“I’m sorry, Kristen came over. I’ll do it now.” He started to stand.
“Don’t bother, I already did. Is it too much to ask for a little God damn help around here? And I don’t want that little slut in my house anymore, do you understand me?”
“Mom, she’s not--”
“Do you understand me, Derek?” She was furious.
“Yes mom.”
She slammed the screen door again. Derek wondered why she had been so upset with him lately, ever since Annabelle had been born. He felt quite awful until he remembered the insect he had found that morning. He ran to the table where he had kept it in the pool skimmer, but it was nowhere to be found.
“Hm…” he thought. “That’s strange.” He looked around for a bit, thinking a breeze may have blown it, but decided a bird must have taken it.
He went inside and upstairs to his room but it was too hot. The air conditioner could only be on in one floor, and since Annabelle’s crib was in the den downstairs, the air conditioner was on for her. So he made his way down to the den. Annabelle wasn’t there, his mother had probably taken her somewhere.
Annabelle was only three months. Derek had been excited about her, right from the first time his parents had told him he would be having a baby sister. Seeing her in the hospital had made him rather happy, but since the day she had been home his mother had constantly berated him at any chance. He was starting to dislike the little girl more and more each day.
Derek’s father was at a conference in Las Vegas. He had never been entirely sure what his father did for a living, but they had comfortable life. Unfortunately, Derek feared his father might not be leading the most faithful marriage, and Las Vegas seemed all to convenient a place for a business meeting.
“Honestly, who the hell gets any work done in Vegas?” Kristen had said. “You do work like… work on a hooker, or a slot machine. Or work on a drug habit, I guess.”
Derek’s mother returned that evening with Annabelle. She placed her gently in the crib and then pulled Derek out of the den by the arm.
“I’m going to bed. So is Annabelle. Don’t make a sound for the rest of the night, you hear me? If she wakes up I’ll kill you. Do you understand me?”
“Yes m’am.”
“Goodnight. I love you.”
“Goodnight mom.”
It was fairly early, even though it had gotten dark out, and sleep would be impossible in the upstairs heat anyways. Derek decided to take a walk outside. He walked down the street, a mile, and then back. Eventually it made him miserable, until he saw Kristen walking the same way. She was wearing a blue miniskirt and a tight, white tank top.
“Hey there, stranger,” she called to him.
“Hi Kristen.”
“Why so blue?”
“Oh, no reason.”
“She kick you out again?”
“No.”
“Threaten to kill you if you woke the baby?”
He nodded.
“Charming woman, isn’t she? Well, if you want, I’ll watch a movie in the basement with you.”
“I don’t know Kristen…”
“Come on. I’m not even wearing a bra. Here, feel.” She took his hand but he resisted.
“She said she doesn’t want you around anymore.”
That stopped Kristen, though she didn’t give him his hand back right away.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. You know what I mean. We just can’t hang out as much anymore.”
“What the hell does that mean Derek?” She was still holding his hand. “Why?”
“She thinks you’re a…”
“A what? She thinks I’m a what?”
“I’m sorry.”
She stared at him, hard, then gave his hand a mean squeeze before throwing it away. She turned and walked the other way, her skirt swaying with her hips.
“Kristen…” he called after.
“Piss off you dickless wimp.”
He watched her go, and then sat on the sidewalk in front of his house until he was tired enough to sleep. He opened the screen door as quietly as he could, taking care to make sure it didn’t slam behind him. Then he shut the door and locked it. He almost went straight to bed, but he decided to see Annabelle first. He crept into the dark den. It was cloudy out, but every so often a shot of moonlight would come in through the window and light up Annabelle’s soft, little face. She was so pretty, he thought. How could he hate her?
And then he heard something. Something strange, like a series of fingers tapping the wooden floor all at once. Ten, twelve heavy taps right in a row then silence. Derek stood stalk still, barely breathing, straining to hear something else. He didn’t want to hear any noise, nothing that would wake his mom or the baby.
He sighed after a few minutes of silence.
“Goodnight, Belle,” he said very softly. He wanted to kiss her on the head but she would have waken, and cried. He sort of did hate her, really. He wondered if it was always like this, when a new child comes into the family. Did they always ruin everything?
As he walked to his room he thought of a time before his mom wasn’t even pregnant. They had gone shopping for school clothes and then out to lunch. It was the last time he remembered his mom being happy. He turned the bathroom light on and there, in the sink, was the strangest mess he’d ever seen.
It was like a pile of white cotton candy stuck to the bowl, and in the center were huge shards of what looked like gray eggshells.
“Strange…” he said aloud. Derek outstretched his arm tentatively to touch the shells. He jumped upon hearing the same, strange tapping. It came from the staircase and grew fainter, descending the stairs. Derek left the bathroom, reluctantly turning the light off. His mother hated when he left the light on. He stood there in the dark, listening. The tapping continued. Something was moving down the stairs. A car passed by, and in the passing headlights Derek made out a shape crawl down the hall towards the den.
Derek made his may down the stairs, careful to avoid the ones he knew to creak. He passed quietly through the hall into the dark den. Everything seemed fine, he thought. Derek felt foolish as he took note of his heavy breathing and the sweat forming on his forehead. Then, in a flash of moonlight, he took in a horrific sight.
There, perched on the side of Annabelle’s crib, was the strange insect Derek had found earlier, though it had nearly tripled in size. It’s mandibles grabbed feverishly at the air around it’s gaping mouth while is grotesque body seemed to constantly undulate, as if it were visibly digesting a constant source of food. It was repulsive. Derek almost screamed but stopped himself, then rushed silently into the den. The thing darted off into the darkness upon taking note of Derek’s advance, nowhere to be seen.
Derek did not know what to do. Without thinking, he carefully took Annabelle into his arms. It was a miracle she remained sleeping. He cradled her ever so gently and glided out of the front door. The bundle he carried made his departure more challenging, but he managed with hardly a sound.
He hustled into the front lawn and turned, looking back at the house. He couldn’t wake his mother, could he? She wouldn’t believe an enormous bug was about to poison Annabelle, or at best she’d think he was exaggerating. She’d be sore about him waking her, but once she saw Annabelle had been disturbed she’d really have it in with him.
“Listen.” The voice startled Derek. He almost jumped, but stopped himself. Annabelle stirred at the vibrations in his chest, but she did not wake. It was Kristen. She was walking across the lawn towards him, a distressed look on her face. “You can’t let your mom tell you what to do Derek. You have to be a man. Just because your old man’s… hey, what’s the deal here? Why do you have the baby.”
“It’s in my house,” he whispered.
“What is? What’s in your house?”
“The bug, from this morning.”
“What bug? What the hell are you talking about? Your mom is going to flip. She’ll probably think I’m trying to kidnap her or something.”
“Would you listen?” Derek hissed. “After you left, that weird insect we found was gone. I thought it blew away or something, but it didn’t. It, what do you call it? Changed.”
“Metamorphosis.”
“Yeah! And it’s huge now.”
He seemed sincerely disturbed, but Kristen looked at him doubtfully.
“Is this some lame attempt to get me inside? Because you blew it, Derek, I mean it. You can’t get me in, especially not with that line.”
“It’s not a line, damn it. What do I do?”
“Oh, Derek,” she sighed. “Fine, fine. Where is it? Your bedroom, I assumed,” she teased, walking to the front door.
“Kristen, don’t!”
But she was already gone, into the dark, quiet house. Derek hesitated, then followed her into the dark.
INCOMPLETE
Third Floor
The news reports had all said to turn the lights off, so we did.
The last words from the outside world had come a few hours ago, on the eleven o’clock news. No one was sure what was happening exactly, but they had all said to keep the lights off. I remember being in the basement of that shitty motel with the caretaker, Gus. He was older, mid fifties. Gus had pulled into the back lot at the same time I did, two hours before midnight. As we walked into the grotesque building he wondered aloud why it was called the graveyard shift. He didn’t seem to be very affected by the current situation. I couldn’t blame him; it was hard to get worked up over something you don’t really understand.
“So, we’re killing everything?” he asked.
I nodded.
He flipped a few switches and then turned on a flashlight.
There were only four other rooms being occupied that night. A family on the first floor; a mother, a father and three sons, the oldest barely in his teens. They shared the floor with Victor Basel, an old British writer. He said he’d been published, so I guess that made him the most important person there. On the second floor was Lady. I had the sneaking suspicion she was a prostitute, based solely off the fact that her name was Lady. On the opposite end of the hall were Jacob and Melody Patterson, newly weds who were traveling the country, “Pacific to Pacific.” That’s what they said over and over. So happily wed, they had mismanaged their budget, landing them in the lavish One 18 Motel.
Then there was me, alone on the third floor. I could’ve had my pick, and I had debated between the first and third. I opted for solitude. To be honest, I wasn’t sure what I was doing there in the first place. I only lived a few minutes away, but something had caused me to leave that place, some cryptic longing… I voluntarily chose a decomposing mattress over my own bed.
The One 18 Motel, what a rotten place to die.
The only reason the place hadn’t been bought out by a chain was the location. It stood on a cliff overlooking the ocean, the Atlantic. The Patterson’s had only made it half way.
The view, that’s the only reason we had known something was up. No one is ever watching the news in a place like this.
The majority of guests were centered in the parlor. The room looked like something of the Adam’s family, at least a distant cousin. Victor was sitting in a chair reading some old book that had no title on the cover. Gus was trying not to say awake. One of the kids would run through the lobby every now and then, another one just on his heels. Their feet made annoying, scampering noises as they passed through.
I remember, quite clearly, standing by the window and looking out.
“See something you like?” Lady asked as she approached. I didn’t bother to turn my head. I had already memorized every detail of her body. Long legs, I mean long legs. Thin waist, dyed blonde with dark roots, a face made to be filmed.
“Not particularly.” I replied.
She laughed.
“Not quite the Hilton, is it?”
“It’s got its charm.” I said, nodding towards Gus who was balls deep in a ‘93 issue of Hustler. She laughed again. She must’ve been looking to get paid, or at least fucked.
That’s when the green flame fell from the night sky like a kamikaze firefly into the ocean. It was a few miles away, but you couldn’t miss that burning green streak. An emerald tail of from space to earth.
“What the hell was that?” Lady asked, intrigued. She pressed up against the window, her Cs pushing together and against the glass. I felt for my wallet.
“Meteor.” Victor Basel said from a chair. “A falling star, I saw it.”
“It was green.” I countered.
“They can be green.”
That was the end of it.
That is, until about twenty minutes later when another fell.
“Wow, did you see that!?” the youngest exclaimed. He was probably nine. Falling stars excited him greatly. He dropped his schoolwork and ran to the window.
“Another one.” I added as a third fell, the second one’s tail still visible. More and more appeared and disappeared, almost every minute. The numbers didn’t bother me, I’ve seen meteor showers before. How close those slowly descending fireballs were getting, however, worried me a bit. I could see them splashing a few hundred yards away. From that close, they didn’t look right.
Without drawing attention to myself and attempting to avoid the label of “that crazy motherfucker on the third floor,” I turned on the television. The reception was poor, but I knew I could find the news. Channel four, five- seven. Yes, seven.
“-I repeat, turn every light off. All lights off. Lock every door, every window. Stay put. That’s the word we are getting from authorities. Again, we do not have a great deal of information-”
“What is this?” Jacob asked as he entered the room with his wife. “What’s going on?” I gave him a blank look and then turned back to the screen. I turned the volume up and everyone gathered around.
“…the first ones appearing just over an hour ago off the coast of Boston. There has been no official report from the coast guard but the president is expected to make a statement within the hour.”
“What the hell is happening?” Jacob asked again.
No one knew.
The screen kept showing dark shots of the ocean. Every now and then a green light would fall in the distance. I began to confuse the television screen with the window.
“She said to keep the lights off, that’s what we should do,” the father said.
That’s what we did, me and ole’ Gus.
When we got back upstairs everyone was in a panic. My flashlight illuminated thin strips of life, legs of tables and Lady’s arm and things like that.
“Calm down, calm down.” Victor was saying to no one in particular.
The mother and the father had already taken the children to their rooms.
“We only made it half way, only half way.”
The Pattersons.
Gus went back to his Hustler.
Lady was smoking a cigarette by the window, coolly counting the falling lights, which were apparently not fragmented stars.
But no one left. That was the mistake we all made, the mistake everyone always makes in these types of situations. The reporters will always say to stay put, or find shelter, but really you just end up cornering yourself.
An hour or so passed and not much happened.
Everyone found their rooms. I sat on my bed. From the moonlight I made out one thirty on my watch. I laid back and smiled. Don’t ask me why.
A few minutes later there was a knock at the door. I’ll never be sure why, but that first knock scared me to death. I shook myself off and answered the door.
“Hey there,” Lady said, leaning in my doorway.
“Good evening.” I replied.
She pushed me in and I fell onto the bed. She got on top pretty fast and ripped off my shirt. I really liked the shirt but I felt the time for mourning its loss was not now. She kissed my neck and bit the fuck out of my lip. I was pretty sure I tasted blood, but it mixed with her heavy cherry lipstick in a way that wasn’t so bad.
The absolute darkness seemed appropriate now, inviting even.
She reached for my zipper, grabbing between my legs until her fingers found the little metal piece. She slowly pulled down and then stopped herself.
“Condom?” she asked. I shook my head with sorrow.
She hopped off, put her hair in a pony tail, and turned around.
“I’ll be right back,” she said.
“Are you charging me for this?” I asked.
She gave me a confused, angry look and shut the door. I was pretty sure she was coming back. I still didn’t know if I was paying.
That’s when I heard the glass shatter on the first floor, a scream followed. It wasn’t a scream of terror, but of surprise, so it didn’t startle me much. I stepped into the hallway. It was dark so there wasn’t much to see. Lady was at the end, I could make out her shape. She had stopped moving. It felt like she was staring back at me, but I couldn’t tell. Then she left. I walked back into my room. I turned the flashing light on- it flickered and died. I heard another window break on the other side of the building. A few minutes later, another scream. It was a scream of pain. It came from the first floor.
“Shit.” I muttered. I had been waiting awhile, I was getting anxious. I was wishing I had a shirt on. The green lights had stopped falling. I had almost forgotten about the news report and the reason why my room was so dark.
It was at that very moment I came to understand that the most disturbing sound a man can hear is that of a human child screaming in complete terror.
Especially three at a time.
Even worse is the complete silence that follows.
There was a commotion on the first floor, lots of movement. More windows broke. If I had been a Twilight Zone fan as a kid, maybe I would’ve been able to come up with some sort of plausible scenario. But I just sat there at the foot of my bed listening, not sure how I should feel. I still didn’t have a shirt.
Thud, thud, thud.
Something was banging against one of the doors.
Thud, thud, crack.
You could hear the door splinter, and a startled yell from Victor Basel.
That was about all you heard.
More silence.
I was starting to hope Gus had left before the graveyard shift had ended.
I was hoping he hadn’t figured out why it’s called the graveyard shift.
Just downstairs I heard more noises, and I could get a better idea of it now. It was like a lot of little feet moving very quickly, almost like the kids in the lobby- but much faster, and in greater numbers.
I was starting to sweat a little bit.
I looked out the window again. I wondered if a human could survive a three story jump and if it’s better to land on your feet or sort of roll as you hit the ground.
One of the last things I ever laughed at was trying to choose between Mr. Patterson and Mrs. Patterson’s screams. It wasn’t a happy laughed, and it wasn’t a nervous titter. It was more like a giggle of despair.
Thud, thud, thud on another door, just below me.
It was like an infestation, like vermin were running amuck in One 18. Running amuck and breaking down doors. Breaking down doors and making guests scream in pain.
Another window broke.
The darkness, there was nothing romantic about it anymore. A silent fog had rolled in from the Atlantic, casting a complete black blanket over One 18, like a coroner covering a grisly corpse.
The second floor was crawling with activity and I knew I was next. I wished I had taken the first floor, it would’ve been over by now. The waiting was killing me.
A knock on the door.
I swallowed my tongue.
Thud, thud, thud.
“Jesus.” I muttered.
“Let me in you stupid fuck!” Lady whispered.
I rushed to the door and opened it. She was naked and blood was trickling from several gashes on her forehead. There was glass in her hair. She didn’t say anything and pushed me onto the bed once more. She took off what clothes of mine remained and got on top again. She didn’t have the condom. Her look was intense, purposeful. She didn’t look scared at all. She pressed hard against me, over and over.
Lady, I’ll marry her if I see the sunrise.
Through the floor I heard something heavy drag and then drop to the floor, then something being torn apart. I could hear things spill onto the floor, I could hear something fishing around inside the wetness.
She was still against me, over and over. Hard.
Lady.
Then, a knock against the door.
Against me.
Thud, thud, thud.
“Just do it.” she screamed.
I reached for her in the darkness, but missed.
I felt my guts start to tingle, more with excitement than fear.
Over and over.
Thud, thud, thud.
Faster, trying to reach that goal.
Thud, thud, thud.
“Almost…”
Thud, thud, crack.
Derek and Kristen stared at the thing intently, bewildered.
“What is it?” she asked.
“A bug… I think.”
“You don’t sound too sure.”
They had found it floating, dead, in the pool. It was nine inches long, as thick as a garden house and a sickly shade of green. A white powder dusted its body, growing heavier and eventually snowed in all around the sharp, half inch stinger at the thing’s end. The head featured four mandibles, with additional, smaller stingers around the neck.
“Looks poisonous,” was all he could add.
“Well, did you ask me here to investigate or to swim?” Kristen asked, hand on her hips. Derek snapped out of his interest, just barely. He was only fifteen but had still managed to develop an unhealthy idol worship for his next door neighbor’s sixteen year old body. She was blonde, too, he loved that.
“Are you sure you want to swim in there? He might of infected it.”
“He? It’s not a he, it’s an it. And don’t be such a child.”
“You’re hardly older than me,” he countered.
“A year.”
“Nine months.”
“That means I was being born while your parents were making you,” she said with a cruel laugh. Derek made a disgusted face.
“Please don’t put it like that.”
“Okay, how about… I was taking my first steps while you were crawling out of your mother’s--”
“Okay! Enough. Let’s swim.”
“How is your mom, anyways? With the new baby and all.”
“I don’t know. Fine, I guess. She’s tired and I hear her crying a lot.”
“Depressed,” Kristen stated flatly. “My mom was depressed when she had me, too. Probably because she knew I’d be her greatest achievement, and she was only nineteen. I’d be depressed too. I don’t know why your mom’s depressed, though, she’s old enough to be having her second kid, isn’t she? She’s pretty old, isn’t she?”
“Can we talk about something else?”
“Sure. How about this?” She leaned in real close and kissed Derek on the neck, very slowly. She did it for awhile and Derek felt almost lightheaded. After a few minutes she stopped and looked at him, then she sort of laughed.
“Cute,” she said.
“Oh, boy.”
Then she jumped in, making a great splash, and he followed.
An hour later Kristen went home and Derek sat with his feet in the pool, thinking. He heard the screen door slam and looked up.
“You forgot to bring the trash in.” His mother was standing there. She looked absolutely cross.
“I’m sorry, Kristen came over. I’ll do it now.” He started to stand.
“Don’t bother, I already did. Is it too much to ask for a little God damn help around here? And I don’t want that little slut in my house anymore, do you understand me?”
“Mom, she’s not--”
“Do you understand me, Derek?” She was furious.
“Yes mom.”
She slammed the screen door again. Derek wondered why she had been so upset with him lately, ever since Annabelle had been born. He felt quite awful until he remembered the insect he had found that morning. He ran to the table where he had kept it in the pool skimmer, but it was nowhere to be found.
“Hm…” he thought. “That’s strange.” He looked around for a bit, thinking a breeze may have blown it, but decided a bird must have taken it.
He went inside and upstairs to his room but it was too hot. The air conditioner could only be on in one floor, and since Annabelle’s crib was in the den downstairs, the air conditioner was on for her. So he made his way down to the den. Annabelle wasn’t there, his mother had probably taken her somewhere.
Annabelle was only three months. Derek had been excited about her, right from the first time his parents had told him he would be having a baby sister. Seeing her in the hospital had made him rather happy, but since the day she had been home his mother had constantly berated him at any chance. He was starting to dislike the little girl more and more each day.
Derek’s father was at a conference in Las Vegas. He had never been entirely sure what his father did for a living, but they had comfortable life. Unfortunately, Derek feared his father might not be leading the most faithful marriage, and Las Vegas seemed all to convenient a place for a business meeting.
“Honestly, who the hell gets any work done in Vegas?” Kristen had said. “You do work like… work on a hooker, or a slot machine. Or work on a drug habit, I guess.”
Derek’s mother returned that evening with Annabelle. She placed her gently in the crib and then pulled Derek out of the den by the arm.
“I’m going to bed. So is Annabelle. Don’t make a sound for the rest of the night, you hear me? If she wakes up I’ll kill you. Do you understand me?”
“Yes m’am.”
“Goodnight. I love you.”
“Goodnight mom.”
It was fairly early, even though it had gotten dark out, and sleep would be impossible in the upstairs heat anyways. Derek decided to take a walk outside. He walked down the street, a mile, and then back. Eventually it made him miserable, until he saw Kristen walking the same way. She was wearing a blue miniskirt and a tight, white tank top.
“Hey there, stranger,” she called to him.
“Hi Kristen.”
“Why so blue?”
“Oh, no reason.”
“She kick you out again?”
“No.”
“Threaten to kill you if you woke the baby?”
He nodded.
“Charming woman, isn’t she? Well, if you want, I’ll watch a movie in the basement with you.”
“I don’t know Kristen…”
“Come on. I’m not even wearing a bra. Here, feel.” She took his hand but he resisted.
“She said she doesn’t want you around anymore.”
That stopped Kristen, though she didn’t give him his hand back right away.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. You know what I mean. We just can’t hang out as much anymore.”
“What the hell does that mean Derek?” She was still holding his hand. “Why?”
“She thinks you’re a…”
“A what? She thinks I’m a what?”
“I’m sorry.”
She stared at him, hard, then gave his hand a mean squeeze before throwing it away. She turned and walked the other way, her skirt swaying with her hips.
“Kristen…” he called after.
“Piss off you dickless wimp.”
He watched her go, and then sat on the sidewalk in front of his house until he was tired enough to sleep. He opened the screen door as quietly as he could, taking care to make sure it didn’t slam behind him. Then he shut the door and locked it. He almost went straight to bed, but he decided to see Annabelle first. He crept into the dark den. It was cloudy out, but every so often a shot of moonlight would come in through the window and light up Annabelle’s soft, little face. She was so pretty, he thought. How could he hate her?
And then he heard something. Something strange, like a series of fingers tapping the wooden floor all at once. Ten, twelve heavy taps right in a row then silence. Derek stood stalk still, barely breathing, straining to hear something else. He didn’t want to hear any noise, nothing that would wake his mom or the baby.
He sighed after a few minutes of silence.
“Goodnight, Belle,” he said very softly. He wanted to kiss her on the head but she would have waken, and cried. He sort of did hate her, really. He wondered if it was always like this, when a new child comes into the family. Did they always ruin everything?
As he walked to his room he thought of a time before his mom wasn’t even pregnant. They had gone shopping for school clothes and then out to lunch. It was the last time he remembered his mom being happy. He turned the bathroom light on and there, in the sink, was the strangest mess he’d ever seen.
It was like a pile of white cotton candy stuck to the bowl, and in the center were huge shards of what looked like gray eggshells.
“Strange…” he said aloud. Derek outstretched his arm tentatively to touch the shells. He jumped upon hearing the same, strange tapping. It came from the staircase and grew fainter, descending the stairs. Derek left the bathroom, reluctantly turning the light off. His mother hated when he left the light on. He stood there in the dark, listening. The tapping continued. Something was moving down the stairs. A car passed by, and in the passing headlights Derek made out a shape crawl down the hall towards the den.
Derek made his may down the stairs, careful to avoid the ones he knew to creak. He passed quietly through the hall into the dark den. Everything seemed fine, he thought. Derek felt foolish as he took note of his heavy breathing and the sweat forming on his forehead. Then, in a flash of moonlight, he took in a horrific sight.
There, perched on the side of Annabelle’s crib, was the strange insect Derek had found earlier, though it had nearly tripled in size. It’s mandibles grabbed feverishly at the air around it’s gaping mouth while is grotesque body seemed to constantly undulate, as if it were visibly digesting a constant source of food. It was repulsive. Derek almost screamed but stopped himself, then rushed silently into the den. The thing darted off into the darkness upon taking note of Derek’s advance, nowhere to be seen.
Derek did not know what to do. Without thinking, he carefully took Annabelle into his arms. It was a miracle she remained sleeping. He cradled her ever so gently and glided out of the front door. The bundle he carried made his departure more challenging, but he managed with hardly a sound.
He hustled into the front lawn and turned, looking back at the house. He couldn’t wake his mother, could he? She wouldn’t believe an enormous bug was about to poison Annabelle, or at best she’d think he was exaggerating. She’d be sore about him waking her, but once she saw Annabelle had been disturbed she’d really have it in with him.
“Listen.” The voice startled Derek. He almost jumped, but stopped himself. Annabelle stirred at the vibrations in his chest, but she did not wake. It was Kristen. She was walking across the lawn towards him, a distressed look on her face. “You can’t let your mom tell you what to do Derek. You have to be a man. Just because your old man’s… hey, what’s the deal here? Why do you have the baby.”
“It’s in my house,” he whispered.
“What is? What’s in your house?”
“The bug, from this morning.”
“What bug? What the hell are you talking about? Your mom is going to flip. She’ll probably think I’m trying to kidnap her or something.”
“Would you listen?” Derek hissed. “After you left, that weird insect we found was gone. I thought it blew away or something, but it didn’t. It, what do you call it? Changed.”
“Metamorphosis.”
“Yeah! And it’s huge now.”
He seemed sincerely disturbed, but Kristen looked at him doubtfully.
“Is this some lame attempt to get me inside? Because you blew it, Derek, I mean it. You can’t get me in, especially not with that line.”
“It’s not a line, damn it. What do I do?”
“Oh, Derek,” she sighed. “Fine, fine. Where is it? Your bedroom, I assumed,” she teased, walking to the front door.
“Kristen, don’t!”
But she was already gone, into the dark, quiet house. Derek hesitated, then followed her into the dark.
INCOMPLETE
Third Floor
The news reports had all said to turn the lights off, so we did.
The last words from the outside world had come a few hours ago, on the eleven o’clock news. No one was sure what was happening exactly, but they had all said to keep the lights off. I remember being in the basement of that shitty motel with the caretaker, Gus. He was older, mid fifties. Gus had pulled into the back lot at the same time I did, two hours before midnight. As we walked into the grotesque building he wondered aloud why it was called the graveyard shift. He didn’t seem to be very affected by the current situation. I couldn’t blame him; it was hard to get worked up over something you don’t really understand.
“So, we’re killing everything?” he asked.
I nodded.
He flipped a few switches and then turned on a flashlight.
There were only four other rooms being occupied that night. A family on the first floor; a mother, a father and three sons, the oldest barely in his teens. They shared the floor with Victor Basel, an old British writer. He said he’d been published, so I guess that made him the most important person there. On the second floor was Lady. I had the sneaking suspicion she was a prostitute, based solely off the fact that her name was Lady. On the opposite end of the hall were Jacob and Melody Patterson, newly weds who were traveling the country, “Pacific to Pacific.” That’s what they said over and over. So happily wed, they had mismanaged their budget, landing them in the lavish One 18 Motel.
Then there was me, alone on the third floor. I could’ve had my pick, and I had debated between the first and third. I opted for solitude. To be honest, I wasn’t sure what I was doing there in the first place. I only lived a few minutes away, but something had caused me to leave that place, some cryptic longing… I voluntarily chose a decomposing mattress over my own bed.
The One 18 Motel, what a rotten place to die.
The only reason the place hadn’t been bought out by a chain was the location. It stood on a cliff overlooking the ocean, the Atlantic. The Patterson’s had only made it half way.
The view, that’s the only reason we had known something was up. No one is ever watching the news in a place like this.
The majority of guests were centered in the parlor. The room looked like something of the Adam’s family, at least a distant cousin. Victor was sitting in a chair reading some old book that had no title on the cover. Gus was trying not to say awake. One of the kids would run through the lobby every now and then, another one just on his heels. Their feet made annoying, scampering noises as they passed through.
I remember, quite clearly, standing by the window and looking out.
“See something you like?” Lady asked as she approached. I didn’t bother to turn my head. I had already memorized every detail of her body. Long legs, I mean long legs. Thin waist, dyed blonde with dark roots, a face made to be filmed.
“Not particularly.” I replied.
She laughed.
“Not quite the Hilton, is it?”
“It’s got its charm.” I said, nodding towards Gus who was balls deep in a ‘93 issue of Hustler. She laughed again. She must’ve been looking to get paid, or at least fucked.
That’s when the green flame fell from the night sky like a kamikaze firefly into the ocean. It was a few miles away, but you couldn’t miss that burning green streak. An emerald tail of from space to earth.
“What the hell was that?” Lady asked, intrigued. She pressed up against the window, her Cs pushing together and against the glass. I felt for my wallet.
“Meteor.” Victor Basel said from a chair. “A falling star, I saw it.”
“It was green.” I countered.
“They can be green.”
That was the end of it.
That is, until about twenty minutes later when another fell.
“Wow, did you see that!?” the youngest exclaimed. He was probably nine. Falling stars excited him greatly. He dropped his schoolwork and ran to the window.
“Another one.” I added as a third fell, the second one’s tail still visible. More and more appeared and disappeared, almost every minute. The numbers didn’t bother me, I’ve seen meteor showers before. How close those slowly descending fireballs were getting, however, worried me a bit. I could see them splashing a few hundred yards away. From that close, they didn’t look right.
Without drawing attention to myself and attempting to avoid the label of “that crazy motherfucker on the third floor,” I turned on the television. The reception was poor, but I knew I could find the news. Channel four, five- seven. Yes, seven.
“-I repeat, turn every light off. All lights off. Lock every door, every window. Stay put. That’s the word we are getting from authorities. Again, we do not have a great deal of information-”
“What is this?” Jacob asked as he entered the room with his wife. “What’s going on?” I gave him a blank look and then turned back to the screen. I turned the volume up and everyone gathered around.
“…the first ones appearing just over an hour ago off the coast of Boston. There has been no official report from the coast guard but the president is expected to make a statement within the hour.”
“What the hell is happening?” Jacob asked again.
No one knew.
The screen kept showing dark shots of the ocean. Every now and then a green light would fall in the distance. I began to confuse the television screen with the window.
“She said to keep the lights off, that’s what we should do,” the father said.
That’s what we did, me and ole’ Gus.
When we got back upstairs everyone was in a panic. My flashlight illuminated thin strips of life, legs of tables and Lady’s arm and things like that.
“Calm down, calm down.” Victor was saying to no one in particular.
The mother and the father had already taken the children to their rooms.
“We only made it half way, only half way.”
The Pattersons.
Gus went back to his Hustler.
Lady was smoking a cigarette by the window, coolly counting the falling lights, which were apparently not fragmented stars.
But no one left. That was the mistake we all made, the mistake everyone always makes in these types of situations. The reporters will always say to stay put, or find shelter, but really you just end up cornering yourself.
An hour or so passed and not much happened.
Everyone found their rooms. I sat on my bed. From the moonlight I made out one thirty on my watch. I laid back and smiled. Don’t ask me why.
A few minutes later there was a knock at the door. I’ll never be sure why, but that first knock scared me to death. I shook myself off and answered the door.
“Hey there,” Lady said, leaning in my doorway.
“Good evening.” I replied.
She pushed me in and I fell onto the bed. She got on top pretty fast and ripped off my shirt. I really liked the shirt but I felt the time for mourning its loss was not now. She kissed my neck and bit the fuck out of my lip. I was pretty sure I tasted blood, but it mixed with her heavy cherry lipstick in a way that wasn’t so bad.
The absolute darkness seemed appropriate now, inviting even.
She reached for my zipper, grabbing between my legs until her fingers found the little metal piece. She slowly pulled down and then stopped herself.
“Condom?” she asked. I shook my head with sorrow.
She hopped off, put her hair in a pony tail, and turned around.
“I’ll be right back,” she said.
“Are you charging me for this?” I asked.
She gave me a confused, angry look and shut the door. I was pretty sure she was coming back. I still didn’t know if I was paying.
That’s when I heard the glass shatter on the first floor, a scream followed. It wasn’t a scream of terror, but of surprise, so it didn’t startle me much. I stepped into the hallway. It was dark so there wasn’t much to see. Lady was at the end, I could make out her shape. She had stopped moving. It felt like she was staring back at me, but I couldn’t tell. Then she left. I walked back into my room. I turned the flashing light on- it flickered and died. I heard another window break on the other side of the building. A few minutes later, another scream. It was a scream of pain. It came from the first floor.
“Shit.” I muttered. I had been waiting awhile, I was getting anxious. I was wishing I had a shirt on. The green lights had stopped falling. I had almost forgotten about the news report and the reason why my room was so dark.
It was at that very moment I came to understand that the most disturbing sound a man can hear is that of a human child screaming in complete terror.
Especially three at a time.
Even worse is the complete silence that follows.
There was a commotion on the first floor, lots of movement. More windows broke. If I had been a Twilight Zone fan as a kid, maybe I would’ve been able to come up with some sort of plausible scenario. But I just sat there at the foot of my bed listening, not sure how I should feel. I still didn’t have a shirt.
Thud, thud, thud.
Something was banging against one of the doors.
Thud, thud, crack.
You could hear the door splinter, and a startled yell from Victor Basel.
That was about all you heard.
More silence.
I was starting to hope Gus had left before the graveyard shift had ended.
I was hoping he hadn’t figured out why it’s called the graveyard shift.
Just downstairs I heard more noises, and I could get a better idea of it now. It was like a lot of little feet moving very quickly, almost like the kids in the lobby- but much faster, and in greater numbers.
I was starting to sweat a little bit.
I looked out the window again. I wondered if a human could survive a three story jump and if it’s better to land on your feet or sort of roll as you hit the ground.
One of the last things I ever laughed at was trying to choose between Mr. Patterson and Mrs. Patterson’s screams. It wasn’t a happy laughed, and it wasn’t a nervous titter. It was more like a giggle of despair.
Thud, thud, thud on another door, just below me.
It was like an infestation, like vermin were running amuck in One 18. Running amuck and breaking down doors. Breaking down doors and making guests scream in pain.
Another window broke.
The darkness, there was nothing romantic about it anymore. A silent fog had rolled in from the Atlantic, casting a complete black blanket over One 18, like a coroner covering a grisly corpse.
The second floor was crawling with activity and I knew I was next. I wished I had taken the first floor, it would’ve been over by now. The waiting was killing me.
A knock on the door.
I swallowed my tongue.
Thud, thud, thud.
“Jesus.” I muttered.
“Let me in you stupid fuck!” Lady whispered.
I rushed to the door and opened it. She was naked and blood was trickling from several gashes on her forehead. There was glass in her hair. She didn’t say anything and pushed me onto the bed once more. She took off what clothes of mine remained and got on top again. She didn’t have the condom. Her look was intense, purposeful. She didn’t look scared at all. She pressed hard against me, over and over.
Lady, I’ll marry her if I see the sunrise.
Through the floor I heard something heavy drag and then drop to the floor, then something being torn apart. I could hear things spill onto the floor, I could hear something fishing around inside the wetness.
She was still against me, over and over. Hard.
Lady.
Then, a knock against the door.
Against me.
Thud, thud, thud.
“Just do it.” she screamed.
I reached for her in the darkness, but missed.
I felt my guts start to tingle, more with excitement than fear.
Over and over.
Thud, thud, thud.
Faster, trying to reach that goal.
Thud, thud, thud.
“Almost…”
Thud, thud, crack.