Monster.
The tenth installment of my flash novella.
Monster
The room with the piano opened into a wide living room. The walls were wooden, as was the floor, which was was covered partially by a large round carpet in the center. There were several leather arm chairs and a sofa crowded at the far end of the room, next to a fireplace, which was blazing despite the summer heat. Sam almost trampled Farrah as she stopped abruptly upon entering the room.
Next to the fireplace stood a man. At least, Sam assumed it was a man. There was a strange air about him that left Sam with chills even in the warm room. The man looked like he had fallen out of a period movie: he wore slacks which were covered partially at the waistline by a vest, a collared shirt, and a jacket. On his head was dawned a bowler hat. His face was obscured by the shadows cast by the fireplace, but Sam thought he could make out a faint smile on the man's face. He looked to Farrah, who's already pale skin had lose what little color it had, her eyes wide in horror.
Farrah stepped on Sam's foot as she stumbled backwards. She almost knocked Sam over in the process, but Sam grabbed her, catching her before she started to fall, and could feel her shaking. The man in the corner had looked up. He wasn't smiling. He was grinning. His eyes were deep set, and a shadow loomed on his brow.
“No,” Farrah whimpered.
Before Sam could speak, the man opened his mouth.
“Yes,” he snarled. His voice was like nails on a chalkboard.
The man took a step toward Sam and Farrah and the shadows in the room seemed to move with him. They melted from their corners and drifted along the floor to the spot in which he stood, slowly growing outward. Farrah took another step back, this time knocking herself and Sam to the floor. She pushed herself backwards toward the doors from which they'd just entered, but they had somehow been shut. Sam stood up and pulled at the doors, but it was as if they were only decoration on the wall; they wouldn't even shake.
The man was halfway across the room now; the shadows flowing in waves ahead of him. He walked slowly, slightly bent, and the shade from his hat obscured the entirety of his face, except for his malicious grin.
When the shadows were inches from Farrah, they began to grow up out of the floor in wafts, almost like smoke. They twisted and danced and wound their way around her ankle, working their way up her leg, and started pulling her toward the man. Farrah let out a half-hearted cry; it was as though she had given up. Sam hooked his arm around hers and tried to pull her away from the darkness that was encircling her, but it was no use. He strained as hard as he could against the shadows that were pulling Farrah closer and closer to the middle of the room. The man had stopped, his hands open at his sides with his palms facing Sam and Farrah, the disturbing grin still spread across his face.
Sam and Farrah were almost to the man now. The shadows grew darker in a circle around him, and as Farrah's ankle, then legs, touched this central part, they began to disappear. Sam lost his grip on her and she slid onto her stomach, being pulled backwards. She stretched her arm as far as she could toward Sam, tears streaming down her face, and he lunged for it. Before he could grasp her hand, she was gone.
Part 9: Score
Monster
The room with the piano opened into a wide living room. The walls were wooden, as was the floor, which was was covered partially by a large round carpet in the center. There were several leather arm chairs and a sofa crowded at the far end of the room, next to a fireplace, which was blazing despite the summer heat. Sam almost trampled Farrah as she stopped abruptly upon entering the room.
Next to the fireplace stood a man. At least, Sam assumed it was a man. There was a strange air about him that left Sam with chills even in the warm room. The man looked like he had fallen out of a period movie: he wore slacks which were covered partially at the waistline by a vest, a collared shirt, and a jacket. On his head was dawned a bowler hat. His face was obscured by the shadows cast by the fireplace, but Sam thought he could make out a faint smile on the man's face. He looked to Farrah, who's already pale skin had lose what little color it had, her eyes wide in horror.
Farrah stepped on Sam's foot as she stumbled backwards. She almost knocked Sam over in the process, but Sam grabbed her, catching her before she started to fall, and could feel her shaking. The man in the corner had looked up. He wasn't smiling. He was grinning. His eyes were deep set, and a shadow loomed on his brow.
“No,” Farrah whimpered.
Before Sam could speak, the man opened his mouth.
“Yes,” he snarled. His voice was like nails on a chalkboard.
The man took a step toward Sam and Farrah and the shadows in the room seemed to move with him. They melted from their corners and drifted along the floor to the spot in which he stood, slowly growing outward. Farrah took another step back, this time knocking herself and Sam to the floor. She pushed herself backwards toward the doors from which they'd just entered, but they had somehow been shut. Sam stood up and pulled at the doors, but it was as if they were only decoration on the wall; they wouldn't even shake.
The man was halfway across the room now; the shadows flowing in waves ahead of him. He walked slowly, slightly bent, and the shade from his hat obscured the entirety of his face, except for his malicious grin.
When the shadows were inches from Farrah, they began to grow up out of the floor in wafts, almost like smoke. They twisted and danced and wound their way around her ankle, working their way up her leg, and started pulling her toward the man. Farrah let out a half-hearted cry; it was as though she had given up. Sam hooked his arm around hers and tried to pull her away from the darkness that was encircling her, but it was no use. He strained as hard as he could against the shadows that were pulling Farrah closer and closer to the middle of the room. The man had stopped, his hands open at his sides with his palms facing Sam and Farrah, the disturbing grin still spread across his face.
Sam and Farrah were almost to the man now. The shadows grew darker in a circle around him, and as Farrah's ankle, then legs, touched this central part, they began to disappear. Sam lost his grip on her and she slid onto her stomach, being pulled backwards. She stretched her arm as far as she could toward Sam, tears streaming down her face, and he lunged for it. Before he could grasp her hand, she was gone.
Part 9: Score