Sam Williams - Tales from the Swollen Corpse

No one ever believed Michael’s version of what happed to Cameron and he spent a good portion of his youth in therapy trying to disbelieve it himself. Standing now in front of the field and the two birds, he wondered if they remembered that day as well.

Thinking of all the things he still needed to attend to for his mother, he turned to head back to the house. He got about three steps before hearing the ear piercing caws from just behind him.

Tony said things were about to get real fucked up. I wish I could have comprehended what he meant. I looked into Emily’s eyes; her chemistry intake seemed to have already peeked for the night. I thought for a moment, wondering if she was still ok to ingest Tony’s offerings. I felt guilty for a brief moment, then reminded myself I wasn’t her father.

The hum of pure base saturated the walls of the VIP room. An excitement built in me. I loved the rave scene. I loved the crowds, the spectacle and the journey. The make shift lounge illuminated by bright florescent lights gave no hint, other than that low frequency thump, that madness ensued beyond the single door.

I sank into the couch feeling weighted like a sack of rocks. Tony stretched out an arm, holding his fist in front of my face, then he opened his hand with the flair of a vaudeville magician- displaying two tiny blue pills that seemed to glow like sapphires.

“What did you say it was called again?”

“The hit” Tony said.

“What’s it called Tony?” I asked again, not satisfied.

“It just is man, its alpha and omega, you’ll love it.”

Tony’s smile was both disconcerting and reassuring in some odd way. I took one of the little pills from his palm. Without a second thought I put the flimsy plastic cup of beer to my lips and washed it down. Pushing my head back into a cushion I stared at the unnatural glow of the fluorescent lights. I expected a bit of wait before I felt anything, if I did at all.

Not more than a few seconds went by and I was thinking about plan B. Maybe a hit of E would keep the party going for me, but then…

Flickering, the light started flickering. A chubby but attractive woman who had been carrying on a conversation in the opposite corner walked over. She seemed concerned. The color of the room was off, an unnatural orange haze lingered. Putting a hand on my knee and bending over, the woman asked if I was ok.

I had noticed her before but something was different. I was put off by her concern. Last thing I needed was this chick sending me on a bad trip but then I realized what was wrong. Her eyes were white as milk, just soulless white sockets. Her mouth opened again, I thought she was going to ask if I was ok, but it kept opening. Seemingly unhinged, it gaped down to her ample chest. The bass from the music outside quit pulsing and became a solid hum. The room vibrated and a beam of darkness shot out of her mouth engulfing my face. All became black and quiet.

Suddenly, as if waking from a bad dream, the room became bright. I looked around. I was alone. I felt weak, but stood and rushed for the door. As I opened it a wave of warm moist air greeted me. Moments before, a thousand dancers had covered the arena floor, an ocean of black lit bodies undulating to the constant pulse of the DJ on stage. Now the floor was empty except for me. The bluish glow had been replaced by an orange hue. A revolting smell made it almost hard to breathe and there was a slurping sound.

Orange haze illuminated sections of the auditorium floor. The light source seemed to be from the exits and cascaded down from the walkways in the upper seating. It was just bright enough for me to see the floor was covered in gelatinous piles. The closest had an arch of bone protruding, like a spinal cord and it was moving. They all were. On closer inspection, I could see it wasn’t the piles that were moving but little glistening slug-like creatures that infested them.

Jumping over a few piles, I made a run for the exit ramp. The corridor that wrapped around the first floor of the arena was pile and people free. But the orange glow was so strong it was disorienting and didn’t seem to emanate from any source but hung in the air like an unholy fog. I ran to the closest emergency exit and pushed the bar to open it. For some reason I expected it to be barred but the door flew open. Beyond was an unfathomable blackness. Thinking it must be an illusion, I proceeded slowly but as I stepped past the doorway my right foot found no ground below it. I would have lost my balance and fallen into the abyss if I hadn’t been holding the doorway with one hand.

Backing up, I turned and ran until I found a restroom. I told myself “You’re tripping balls, just splash some water on your face and breathe.” Pushing open the rest room door, I walked in. The orange glow was absent. Instead, a normal dim fluorescent glow illuminated the institutional green walls. Before I made it around the privacy wall, a noise stopped me in my tracks. It sounded like something dragging itself towards me and it was breathing in a forced and inhuman manner. Fear built in me irrationally, every ounce of my being told me to get out of there and I listened.

I found myself in the corridor running again. Just before I thought I had circled the entire arena and was about to be back to where I started, I heard music. As I ran it got louder and then I saw an open glass door on the interior wall. I remember it was the bar I had seen earlier in the night, I stepped inside.

The interior was plush. There was a large intricately carved mahogany bar that stretched along one side of the room. Behind it was a beautiful tall bartender. She had white pixy hair and was dressed in just enough black latex to cover the fun bits. In the center of the room were two illuminated circular platforms each with a dancer so beautiful I truly comprehended the phrase breathtaking for the first time. They both wore what I thought were those cheesy angel wings which had become common sight at parties. But as I walked past towards the music I could see the wings were actually protruding from their skin.

Past the dancers was a black leather couch facing a wall of windows where the music was coming from. I stood in front of the windows and looked down at the party and saw it just as I had seen it before. There was the DJ spinning as lasers and the crowd bounced and rolled. But I knew I wasn’t coming down. Looking at the couch, I saw a man sitting, watching the party.

“Come and sit Mike, I want to talk to you” the man said without looking at me.

Although I had never met him before I knew who he was when I heard his voice. He was shirtless, wearing black leather pants with shoulder length hair as black as a raven. When I sat, he leaned a little forward and I caught sight of a bloody wing stump.

“Mike, I have no shortage of appointments so we need to make this quick. I don’t like wasting my time. What is it your heart wants?” He moved his glance from the window and looked at me through sun glasses.

“I don’t want anything from you.” I said, my voice cracking and weak.

“Well then I need something from you.”

“What?”

He held a hand out; it contained Tony’s little pills.

“I need you to go back to the party and entice someone to willingly take these.”

It took a surprising amount of strength but I said “No, I can’t.”

He lowered his sunglasses and glared at me with eyes black as the void I had seen earlier.

“Mike just because I don’t have your soul doesn’t mean I can’t keep you here for a very long time.”

There was an incredible chill to his voice. I grabbed the pills almost without thinking and said “Ok.”

I awoke to familiar sounds. Tony was sitting in front of me. He was just withdrawing the hand with which he had offered me and Emily the pills. I could feel two pills in my own hand. I looked at Tony and said,