“So tell me Mr. Harold, what ha-..”
“M-Marcus is fine..” The psychologist was interrupted by the shaken man in the seat before him. He was shaking, head pointed towards the floor, staring into space with wide eyes as his clammy sweaty palms were clasped together tightly.
“Ok, Marcus then. Can you tell me what happened on the night of April 23rd, 2014?”
The psychologist finished his sentence and fixed his gaze on Marcus. Studying his body language.
“I… As much as I r-really dont want to.. I-I have to..” He stuttered.
“Talking about it is the only way we can help you get through it.” The therapist stated.
“Please don’t phrase it that way doctor.” Marcus directed his gaze into the eyes of the psychologist as he spoke.
“Oh..uh..” The doc cleared his throat and apologised before prompting him once more to continue.
“I had j-just clocked out at work when my phone rang.. My initial reaction was well.. Who the fuck would be calling me at 2AM? I checked my blackberry and saw my wife was calling from the house phone. Or at least.. That’s what I assumed..” He paused for a moment.
The psychologist looked up from his trance of constant note taking and questioned “is something wrong?”
“No.. I’m ok.. Ill keep going..”
“I picked up and it was just… Static.. Like that kind of static you get from a radio station that barely comes on.. I could faintly hear a voice under a shitload of white noise… I didn’t get it.. I kept asking if she was ok but after a few seconds the phone just made that irritating beeping sound you get when someone hangs up on you..” He took a quick breath and continued.
“I’m sure you can guess i was kinda panicking in my head at this point.. I’ve always been a superstitious guy and with the amount of weird shit I’ve read online it was enough that a creaking floorboard would’ve made me jump out a window..”
“So would you say you are unusually paranoid and afraid from these types of occurrences?” The doc interjected.
“I-I guess so…?” Marcus replied.
The psychologist jotted down more notes and told him to continue.
“… I drove home as quick as possible. When I got there all the lights were off, which is normal because I get home really late on a normal day..
I went inside quietly and kinda half yelled half whispered for my wife, trying to be careful not to wake the baby. I got no response.. It was then that I noticed that the light in the living room was on. ‘Maybe she fell asleep watching tv’ I thought…” Marcus paused again and his breathing increased, he began to sweat more profusely. Shaking all the while.
“Then what happened, Marcus?” The doc questioned.
“I…I w-went into the living room.. And to my horror.. There she was… My beloved wife… Sprawled out on the ground.. Her limbs twisted in impossible angles and her face.. Oh god.. Her face was contorted into an inhuman look of sheer pain and terror.. Her eyes were blank and stared endlessly skyward.. There was no blood.. No guts.. The cuts on her body.. They looked.. Hollow… ”
Marcus began to shake and cry in his seat.
“I’m sorry Marcus, but we can’t stop here. Please finish your story.” The doctor said coldly.
He wiped his eyes and nose on his sleeve and sighed. “Right..right..”
“I fell backwards out of fear, knocking over the lamp that was illuminating the scene.. The light flickered sporadically, and as it did, something big began to move out of a dark corner of the room. As I saw its silhouette I hurried to my feet and darted upstairs to my little boys room. I slammed the door behind me and locked it, running over to the crib fearing the worst my stomach did loops when I peered into it..
It was empty..
I began to cry and I felt like my heart would burst out of my chest at any given moment.. I turned to the door and was ready to go looking for my son when…
I heard it…
The sound of it coming up the stairs.. One foot after the other.. Loud.. Stomps up the stairs.. Behind the stomps was a strange sound that sound that sounded like the cracking of bones and the grinding of metal.. I could here it getting closer and closer… Louder and louder until the noise was right behind the door.. Almost unbearably loud..
All noise ceased..
It was dead silent..
I approached the door again.. Then I heard another sound.. It sounded like.. Something was crawling through the wall of the room.. Something big… The sound carried past me until I heard a loud thump.. And a closet door slide open…
The babies closet door…
I slowly turned around..
And it was standing not 6 feet before me… It was tall.. I could only make out so much of it from the luminescence of the moonlight.. It had a muscular build but.. Skinny arms.. It’s hands weren’t hands at all.. They were like mechanical gloves.. Spindling and grinding together.. It was wearing a green tattered shirt.. And on its face it wore a mask… The mask looked as if it was carved from a material like wood.. Or maybe it was porcelain.. It was crudely stapled together in place where it had shattered.. There were no holes for vision from what I could see.. And no breathing holes either.. The only thing on the mask besides the crude fixes and scratches…was a crudely painted on cartoon smile.. Open mouth.. Teeth exposed.. It looked as though it was mocking me..
Then it began to speak to me in that raspy voice..
“The others wouldn’t talk to me” it said.. “But you’ll talk, won’t you?” I stumbled backwards and fell, crawling backwards and fumbling with getting the door open,
“FUCK YOU YOU MONSTER” I screamed at it
“Naughty boy using naughty language” it spoke “I have to teach you a lesson too.”
It moved towards me just as I got the door open. I just about fell down the stairs trying to get out of there with my life! I stumbled into the dining room where the front door was.. But to my terror it was waiting for me.. Standing in the doorway.. Something was impaled onto its claw.. I gasped and it threw whatever the object was at me. I ducked but it landed in front of me on the hard wood floor..
There before me.. Was the shape of an infant child.. Wrapped in the same cars blanket we tucked him in every night.. He just launched my own seed at me in a projectile fashion as if he was a bad piece of steak on a fucking shish kabob!! I cursed loudly at that fucking monster. Telling it to finish me off. “Tisk tisk, naughty boy.” It grumbled. It walked towards me with one if its claw appendages outstretched. I screamed.. And woke up in the back of an ambulance..”
Marcus broke down and sobbed.
The psychologist comforted him for a good 5 minutes before he was ready to resume.
“Ok Marcus, I think I’ve finished your review.”
“And? c-can I go home doc?”
“I’m afraid not, Marcus.”
“But why not?!? Do you not believe me?!” Marcus’s mood instantly switched to anger.
“Oh I believe you..” The doctor stated. He raised up in his chair and leaned in close to Marcus.
“But you should’ve never spoke to him, you belong to him now, Marcus.”
“..w-wha..?” Marcus’s anger was quickly replaced with shock confusion and terror.
“I’m afraid you won’t survive the night, mr. Harold.” The doc said in a monotone voice.
Marcus began to shake violently and scream at the top of his lungs. He fell out of his chair and began flailing about on the ground screaming for help. As he did, the doctor walked calmly behind his desk and pressed a small button. Immediately, two men dressed head to toe in white entered the room and picked up Marcus, they then sedated him with a tranquilizer.
“Do you want him in solitary, professor?” One asked the doctor.
“No, put him back in his room for now.” He stated.
The men nodded and dragged Marcus away, closing the door behind them. As they did, the doctor moved his gaze to the street below his office through the window. A man, clad in a tattered green shirt, and an odd mask, stared back up at him. The doctor closed the blinds, and threw Marcus’s case file into the trash bin.
“Fith one this month…”
6 Comments on 'Talk'
*Fifth. Other than that, good “Talk”. ;P
Loved this one
Sickening! Apart from the typos this is a great piece. Well done.
One of the better stories here, aside from the typos, and one of my favorites out of what I’ve read here. Kudos to you, sir.
Good one man
I think I’m just stupid, but I don’t get it…