Those Fire Red Eyes - 3
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Creak. It comes all at once in its own time. It lets out a low growl, the devil himself, hell reincarnated, a monster, a demon, a foul creature from hell itself. Its fingers are all bent backwards like someone pulled them too far back and they never healed. Its stomach is so hollow his ragged overalls actually dip in to compensate like a body fresh from the crypt. Long black hair runs off his head in conflict and half way down his back like the senior never cut it a day in his life. Those fire red eyes burn holes right through my chest. But the face, that is the worst of it all.
His face is moist, as gray as a zombie and there are small holes in his skin were worms and other small insects have made their stay. His eyes slowly glance over my full body like he was in a competition and I am his first place prize. I am his possession. He owns me, he controls me. The world breaks. My heart cracks and sinks, my legs stop their shakes, and my tears dry as I let out a slow sigh. He is tearing me apart with merely a glance, clearly melting me from the inside out. Finally, with my own eyes begging for it to stop, begging for him to just finish me off his blazing glaze lands on my own eyes. It is like a vacuum, his stare is the ultimate killer. It is like he is trying to make me nothing by sucking my eyeballs right out of my skull. If this intensity increases he is going to rip me apart.
My prayer is answered and everything stops like he decides not to kill me right then. No, I want to die. I want him to end this and smash me like a bug. He reaches his hand up to his face slowly. He looks at his hands and with one quick flick all twelve fingers snap back in place with a sickening crack. I squint at the sound and look down, but he doesn’t even flinch at what must have been incredible pain. Instead he reaches his thin fingers up and grabs his skin.
He pulls, at first nothing happens. Then the worst, his flesh tears. It rips to shreds like old paper while the deep smell of mold reaches my nose. What is he going to show me now? Why is he doing this? I no longer want to mourn, why can’t he just let me die? As he peels his skin back the air is filled with the fumes of dozens of mushrooms all carrying different pungent smells. While his face tears half way across I begin to see something else behind the rot. In a tight knot I can start to see second face.
This second face seems adorable and innocent inside of the empty skull of the demon. It’s a baby. Shit, I’m being destroyed by an infant from some dark void. There’s something horribly wrong that infant face, it doesn’t belong. Those eyes aren’t quite right, they appear too perfect. They are too flawless and too little, they look just like a real life glass doll. The lips are partly open and ridged like stone. The nose is petite and doesn’t have a single flaw. The doll face is fake, which makes it even more horrifying than the rotten man before.
What’s controlling this man? This is just sick. I’m still wondering what makes him work. How can he frighten me so much when there’s nothing inside him except glass? The phantom speaks, “Do you see? Do you see? It’s really just you and me! You can’t escape, you can’t be free, there is nowhere for you to flee!” The banshee appears and charges through the man, causing his entire body to fall backwards and slam right into the ground. The baby face shatters into a million pieces and scatters across the floor like a fallen vase. Some of the pieces get thrown right next to me. I watch as the plaster turns to dirt, then rots, then rusts, then simply drifts away.
He’s gone. Suddenly my legs are able to move and I’m finally free to escape. Now that I’m no longer stunned I take full advantage and run. I am quick. I step onto the large pile of dust created by the man like it was explosive sand that’s about to combust. I get off the remains just as fast and go down the hall further into the house and hear behind me from my creeper, “I’m coming, I’m coming—do you hear the drumming? I’m coming, I’m coming, when will you be succumbing?”
A dozen the halls stretch and bend in odd directions. In sheer torment I keep turning paths and more appear. I know from the outside this place isn’t big but soon I’m completely lost. There is no end, there is no exit, just endless flooring with door after door. I’m not slowing, I keep going, “Tinkle, tinkle, tap. The letter’s on the map. You are my little foul, there’s no escaping now!”
“Just go away!” I scream trying to keep the beast at bay. I turn down yet another hall as it stretches right in front of my eyes.
“You will beg till you crack like an egg!”
God damn it, this beast has some wit, no matter what I do he fails to just leave me alone. Another hall, and another, and another, and another—then stop. The door I stop at, the one right in front of me—I recognize it. That’s my door. That’s my room with all its glory. What’s my room doing in this horrible house? I can’t help but stare. I approach it carefully as if it was a dead possum. It may be a massive decoy. It may be a ploy to make me want to go inside. But I can’t just ignore it. That’s my door!
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