BLACKTOOTH
Novella by Orrin Taylor
This was written in 2018 while working overnights at a local gas station.
The story is based on dreams and bizarre events from years prior.
Due to language and subject matter, this story is strongly recommended for mature audiences only.
Copyright © 2018 by Orrin Taylor
All rights reserved
PART ONE
Curd stared into moist yellowish mold covering the walls and floor. The thick layer of pungent grime now resembled the flesh of a decayed animal. Possibly a cat. With several strokes, fungi would melt away, revealing old wet concrete underneath.
The room was around the size of a small closet and had served as a prison cell to Curd for more years than he could remember. Lack of space and overly low ceilings were the cause behind his various physical deformities. Curd felt a strange pleasure from the pain. With each burning sensation throughout his spine, a rotten black smile would stretch across his face.
Hunched in somewhat of a fetal position, Curd scraped away another handful of mossy slime and flung it across the floor.
He laughed quietly to whispered words echoing from an empty tattered snail shell. With his clean hand, Curd held the object just inches from his ear, listening with absolute content. The voice continuously described the dreams of random strangers to Curd in both vivid and humorous details. He found enjoyment out of the shell but at times wanted to smash it to pieces just for fun.
"What a shame!" a grotesque man peered into the room through a rusted iron bar door.
Curd knew him simply as the warden, but continuously used the title assclown in private reference.
"You know", the warden continued, "from the smell in here I figured you had died or something." followed by a long sigh. "My nasal passage welcomed the scent of your decay."
The warden's face resembled melted mozzarella. His bald scalp, oversized sunglasses, and constant sneer created an almost inhuman appearance. Ripping a large ring of keys from the breast pocket of his orange satin suit, he then spent several seconds fumbling around. After unlocking the cell door, the warden glanced over the withered creature before him and laughed. He revealed stained cardboard box from the shadows and flung it towards Curd.
"Get your shit together, I need this room empty by morning,” said the warden, still giggling as he did so.
"I don't get it,"Curd gave a huge grin. The black rotting color not only covered his teeth but gums and corners of his mouth. "Why didn't you just kill me?"
Curd, or Inmate 1371 looked more like a corpse than a human. The intricate tattoos covering his face and body were now Rorschach’s tests of faded colors and scars. Even the man's eyes displayed psychedelic pattern of yellows and reds. The warden stared at his forehead where the words 'CURD' above 'PSYCHOPATH' had been carved in small, crooked letters.
"Hey, if it were up to me, I'd put a bullet between your eyes- but that wasn't arrangement."
The warden began roaring in laughter from his own statement, as Curd began collecting his few personal items. A dent in the wall had been used as a makeshift shelf to house several tiny vials of liquids, a severed crab claw, and a Polaroid of a dead animal.
The warden suddenly reached into the cell and yanked him out by the skin of his neck.
Curd stumbled into the wall across from his cell and fell to the floor. Two guards in similar satin orange outfits began violently attacking Curd as the warden watched in joyous awe.
Several minutes passed before the three men bound Curd's hands with rope and placed a bright pink burlap sack over his head. He was dragged down various hallways and finally into a trash filled parking garage. They came to an old rusted paddy wagon, covered in chipped green house-paint. Curd was forced into the back with both the guards, while the warden happily offered to drive.
After traveling a rural countryside for nearly an hour in silence, a voice broke in over the roar of the engine.
"Hey-um," said the warden laughing, “do either of you know where the hell we are?"
Curd could only make out one response of "nope" through the burlap.
"Well that sounds peachy," the warden continued, "dump him."
Curd heard the sounds of clanging metal and laughter before receiving a boot to the chest.
Despite busting his face on the pavement, he was able to crawl into what felt like a ditch.
As the vehicle barreled off down the road, Curd ripped away the now blood-soaked potato sack and began laughing. Wiping his tattered face, he realized the snail shell had shattered in his hand during the journey. Tiny shards now protruded from his fingers and palm.
"Dammit," mumbled Curd, chewing and picking at his flesh.
When the tail lights of the paddy wagon vanished into heavy fog, he stumbled back onto the deserted highway. His box of possessions, shattered along the road, were kicked out the same time Curd was. Almost everything was ruined aside from a single glass vial of thick greenish cream. When picking up the tube, he noticed a crack in the side, instantly causing him to break into a panicked frenzy.
Curd ran across the two-lane highway to a small patch of forest on the other side. Frantically, he snatched a large, moss covered stone from the ground and began licking it. The contents of the vial were massaged lovingly into the moss with a mixture of blood from Ig's face. After several minutes, he gave the rock a hug and whispered "I love you."
The middle of the stone began to pulsate and deform. A large slit appeared throughout the middle and curled back along both sides. The crumbling stone formed into lips, revealing a human-like mouth. It displayed a set of perfect teeth and bleeding gums. An elongated tongue unraveled from within and thrashed around in the air like a snake.
"Oh great," gurgled the stone, "what the hell do you want?"
"I'm starving- I gotta eat something," Curd cried in an overdramatic whisper. "I don't know where the hell I am."
"And? How's that my problem?"
"Come on baby, don't do me like that!" Curd smiled as he dug his rotten teeth again into his palm- this time drawing blood. "you know I love you."
He fed the stone several drops of blood, causing it perversely giggle. It’s oversized tongue slithered about, licking it’s rock form and Curd’s blood covered hands. Their growing laughter in unison began to echo through the forest, resembling the sound of slow death from an unknown animal.
PART TWO
"Do you ever feel as though you're being watched? When at social events or even normal public outings- does it seem like strangers are constantly talking about or laughing at you? Are you desperately trying to convince your friends and family that people are trying to kill you- but no one will listen?"
Doyle glanced up from his erotic graphic novel with a loud sigh of annoyance. He felt as though he had heard this same radio ad thirty times within the last hour.
“Shut up and play some damn music!” Doyle screamed at one of the many oversized speakers protruding from the ceiling.
“My name is Carl Pghetti,” the advertisement continued, “and I used to be just like you. I lived in a constant waking nightmare- and was manipulated to believe it was all in my mind. I thought I was crazy! Until one day, when I discovered an amazing secret videotape by man named Father Yabu. It not only showed me the truth but completely changed my life! Now- for the first time ever, you too can achieve eternal enlightenment!”
Ignoring the commercial, Doyle flung his paperback copy of “REPTILIAN LOVE” onto the counter and took a swig from a Styrofoam cup. He leaned his chair back against the wall of cigarettes behind him and scanned the grimy rundown gas station. The whole building was filthy and contained a blended fragrance of urine and cleaning fluids. Sticky floors and dust covered shelves were briefly illuminated for seconds at a time from various neon lights displayed on the windows. As an old jazz song began playing over the radio, Doyle noticed a person walking through the parking lot outside.
An elderly looking man shuffled quickly towards the entrance of the building, causing Doyle to let out a loud groan.
“Dammit”, he exclaimed, burrowing his face back into the book. Doyle hadn’t had a customer so far, his whole shift. He wasn’t in the mood- especially at three in the morning.
“Howdy!” said the man as he walked in, over the ring of bells hanging on the door.
“Hey,” murmured Doyle in annoyance without looking up.
The patron wandered through aisles of shelves containing random snack food and travel gear, seemingly mumbling to himself and laughing. He loudly snatched handfuls of beef jerky packets and several hotdogs from a rotating grill table.
His odd behavior finally caused Doyle to peer over the pages of pornographic madness. The man’s appearance caused him to sit up in confusion.
“What the” Doyle quietly choked.
The customer was dressed in a tattered grey suit and wasn’t wearing any shoes. His withered pale body was covered in tattoos and blood. As he stumbled towards a wall of refrigerated coolers, Doyle noticed what appeared to be a large rock tucked under his arm.
While randomly humming the tune echoing from the speakers, the man grabbed a forty-ounce bottle of malt liquor from behind a glass door, and then eerily pranced in slow motion to the counter.
Doyle attempted to hold back a look of horror as he met with ink filled eyes and a rotting black grin. He could only make out the words “CURD PSYCHOPATH” on his forehead before looking away.
“Ring me up good sir” Said the man, half giggling uncontrollably. He dumped an arm full of items on the counter then began sniff wildly at the air. “Smells like rain” he said, giving Doyle another smile.
“Uh-yeah” Doyle answered while pounding at the register keys. “That’ll be twenty-three forty-two.”
Ig licked at his decayed lips, causing several bleeding cracks to appear. He peered at the top of the stone in his arms and smiled. As it were a cat, Ig began stroking a patch of moss running along a dip in the top of the stone- literally causing it to purr.
Doyle now noticed the stone’s human-like mouth, causing him to let out a gasp of nauseated astonishment.
“Lover,” Curd sang, “would you uh- mind covering this? Sweet heart?”
As Doyle stood watching in frozen terror, Curd reached into the large mouth and began fishing around as if it were a book bag. Slime and bile splattered about during the few seconds of violent searching, causing Curd to begin laughing again. After finally pulling his arm out, he smacked a wad of garbage on the counter- mainly consisting of monetary bills and coins. Doyle noticed the middle and pinky fingers were missing on the man's left hand.
“That should cover it,” Curd chuckled while scooping up his liquor and food, “don’t work too hard now!” Roaring in laughter at his own joke, he quickly walked out of the gas station as the stone now hummed along with fading jazz song.
Doyle let out a sigh of relief as Curd crossed the parking lot and into the shadows. Falling back into his chair, he tried to calm his nerves. He ran his fingers through his hair, wiping the sweat down his mullet.
What the hell was that, he thought to himself. Doyle ran through the events and wondered if it was just a bizarre practical joke.
None of it made any sense.
When sorting the money crumpled on the counter his confusion only continued. The bills seemed ancient and were unlike anything Doyle had ever seen before, mixed with strange looking coins and multiple gold teeth.
“fifteen cent paper notes? Three-dollar bills?” exclaimed Doyle, “what the fuck is this!”
Grumbling in frustration, he began shoving money in random spots of the register. Doyle suddenly stepped back in horror when he noticed the small carcass of a bird had also been left at the bottom of the pile of cash.
The bird appeared to be mummified and covered in discolored gelatin.
“That’s it! Fuck this! Tomorrow I’m putting in an application at the Waterbed Warehouse!” Doyle screamed, grabbing his book from behind the counter. “I can’t take this shit anymore!”
Doyle knocked the mummified animal onto the floor away from him with the edge of “Reptilian Love”.
He then gave an overdramatic squirming dance in disgust while wiping his hands on a wad of fresh paper towels. Grabbing a broom from behind the counter, Doyle came around to sweep us the mess, when he heard laughter.
The cackling noise was similar to something an infant would make. After first spinning around in surprise, he quickly realized the sound was coming from the floor.
The bird carcass wriggled and seized, with continuous laughing from a leather-like beak. Its bulging black eyes seemed to melt from its sockets into a pool bubbling liquid.
Doyle screamed and flew into a terrified fit of rage and began stomping on the corpse violently. Gobs of multi-colored puss and gunk exploded from beneath his shoes and splattered throughout the room.
Annoyed and out of the breath, he finally stopped and stared at the mangled pile after almost a minute. There was something coming out of the mashed organs and splintered bones.
Thousands of tiny creatures, like insects, swarmed what was left of the body and scattered about the room at unbelievable speed. By the time Doyle could comprehend what had happed, the creatures were covering his body as well.
Scraping his face and body wildly in terror, Doyle stumbled back into a shelve of candy bars.
The miniature winged crabs burrowed into his eyes and under his skin within a matter of seconds. In almost instant disintegration, his esophagus was crumbled away, and Doyle’s screams quickly turned to silence.
Only the sounds of jazz music continued softly in the background from speakers overhead.
“What the hell is this plastic!? I can’t eat this shit!” Curd threw the now half-eaten hotdogs and beef jerky to the ground after guzzling the remainder of his beer. “Bullshit!”
The stone responds by making sarcastic fake crying sounds.
“We should go to the cemetery,” Curd continued as he smashed the glass beer bottle on the pavement. They had wandered into a random neighborhood in the suburbs.
“That’s stupid.”
“Shut up. We’re going to the cemetery” Curd suddenly burst into uncontrollable laughter, “Maybe I’ll actually get a decent meal tonight.”
PART THREE
“Dude, what the fuck?” Fawn groaned in disgust with a lit cigarette hanging from her lips.
Gus shoved several grease-soaked fast food bags into the backseat as he climbed into the car, shutting the door behind him. “Free leftovers” he finally answered with a sly grin.
“Well it smells like death.”
“That’s probably my uniform,” Gus chuckled, before inhaling the front of his black and green collared work shirt. “I haven’t washed it in weeks.”
“Great.” Mumbled Fawn sarcastically after rubbing her shaved head in frustration.
Pulling away from the entrance, Fawn drove around the near empty parking lot towards one of the many crude gravel exits.
The name “BEEF CITY” displayed across the front in large, illuminated letters, flashed continuously in a variety of colors. After quickly rolling down the window, Gus hung out of the side of the car while flipping the sign off with both hands.
“EAT MY ASS!” screamed Gus as they passed the sign.
He watched the restaurant as they whipped onto the street and sped off. He could make out piles of trash collecting against the graffiti covered walls and corners of the building. As it faded out of sight, he wondered what the small concrete box would look like engulfed in flames and smiled.
“So how was it tonight?” said Fawn after several minutes of silence.
“The usual” Gus mumbled, still staring out the window. “Some woman found a bug in her bowl of coleslaw and raised all sorts of hell. Then we got a bus full of people- I’m pretty sure they were in a religious cult or something.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, I ended up with thirty-two orders of six-piece chicken nuggets with child sized orders of fries. And you know I’m the only person doing shit. I stuck back in the kitchen all night with Carol- who spent half the night standing around- pretending to wash dishes.” Gus rolled up the window halfway, and then lit up a cigarette. “I’m so sick of that fucking place- I’m this close to walking out.”
They drove through several blocks of burnt-out cars and boarded up buildings. Rows of orange streetlights along the side of the road reflected against the waves of fog crawling across the asphalt.
The rusted station wagon rumbled as it crept through a sleeping city with morning just hours away. After passing a familiar neighborhood of public housing they neared the towns’ shopping mall- a local indoor bazaar of overpriced shoe stores and rollaway booths filled with garbage.
“Did you get ahold of Ted?” said Gus, flicking ash out of the window.
“Yeah- he told me to meet him at the witch’s grave,” Fawn tossed the butt of her cigarette out of the window.
“This is the shit I’ve been talking about,” after Gus made a loud sigh of annoyance. “We always have to meet him at these crazy ass places! What the hell is that supposed to mean? Witch’s grave?”
“I’ve been there a couple of times before,” said Fawn, “it’s in Eche Cemetery.”
“Eche Cemetery! It’s almost four in the morning! Can’t we just meet at his house?”
“I don’t know- that’s all he said!”
Their conversation turned silent as they traveled down a long gravel road behind the shopping center.
Gus finished his cigarette then snatched a fast food bag from the backseat. Shoveling an old cheeseburger into his mouth, he glanced over at an isolated suburban neighborhood in the distance. The clusters of large identical houses seemed to glow from bright blue spotlights, creating a surreal- almost artificial effect.
“I thought the entrance was over there,” Gus gurgled with a mouthful of food,” behind those houses.”
“I know a back way- shit load easier to sneak into,” Fawn chuckled softly after taking a sharp turn.
“Man, I’m not really in the mood to get arrested or some stupid shit.”
“Calm the fuck down- I’ve done this a million times.”
After passing an abandoned car wash, the road quickly turned into a trail of mud and garbage.
The path was walled in on both sides with rows of busted statues. Headless concrete women stood frozen in dance next to shattered busts of imaginary monsters. Whether from heavy blankets of fog or reflection of the headlights, the sculptures appeared to move on their own.
“Whoa, I haven’t been out here,” exclaimed Gus while squirting a ketchup packet into his mouth, “this is fucking wild.”
“I had a dream about this place the other night,” said Fawn, ignoring Gus’ statement.
“Oh yeah?”
“I was at a picnic with my family- I think it was someone’s birthday or something. And we were like- sitting in these chairs- but they weren’t really chairs. They were more like these thrones made of mud and stuff- but they were like- markers for graves.”
“okay.”
“Yeah- it was like we were sitting on peoples’ tombstones- it was really weird! And there were these little creatures all over the place. Like dogs with wings- only they had the faces of an elderly woman- all identical. They gave off these screams- like a dying cat- it was just... awful.”
“Well that sounds pleasant” mumbled Gus sarcastically as Fawn began laughing.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know man- you always gotta tell me some freaky shit right before we get to these places! Like- yeah Fawn- tell me more about the scary ass dream you had the other night- as we’re pulling up to a haunted crack house or Eche Cemetery at three in the fuckin’ morning.”
“Shut the fuck up Gus”
“I’m serious man! I hate this shit! It’s stupid! What kind of idiot thinks it’s a good idea to sell drugs out of a closed cemetery in the middle of the night? I would have rather met in front of a police station than this shit.”
“seriously, shut up,” said Fawn still laughing.
“I’m just saying.”
“I know but- obviously the guy has a few screws loose.”
“ya think?”
Fawn pulled along the side of the path and shut off the vehicle. Within minutes she and Gus were out of the car and walking the rest of the trail on foot.
They came to a tall fence of rusted metal and rotted wood. A decent sized hole cut along the bottom served as Fawn's so-called 'back entrance'- which she revealed by clumsily crawling through. Despite being disturbed by chunks of bloody fur caught in the wiring- Gus followed behind her silently.
The enormous cemetery resembled an abandoned amusement park of moss covered monuments, mausoleums and tombstones. A winding concrete walkway trailed the landscape towards a large grassy mound in the distance. As they ventured towards it, they noticed a stench in the air like rotting meat.
Ted sat on the base of a large statue, sipping on an oddly shaped jug of grain liquor. The large monument served as a marker to a family plot of graves buried underneath. It's intricate marble design of a bird's claw holding an eyeball appeared weathered and covered in dark yellowish fungi.
While Ted took another swig, he glanced around at the other graves and various trees around him. He noticed two figures climbing up the hill in his direction and instantly recognized Fawn and Gus.
"Hey Hey!" sang Ted, "just the party animals I've been waiting for! What's up guys!"
"Hey." Gus mumbled.
"Teddy Bear!” sang Fawn, “you motherfucker. What’s up”
"Shit, you know- just running these streets." Ted took another long guzzle from his drink, the container resembled a shrunken head with a mouthpiece protruding from the forehead. "you guys smell that?"
"Yeah" Gus referred to the smell of hot death.
"Smells like rain." chimed Ted with weird smile.
"Um, okay."
"I got you guys your usual as requested," Ted, fumbled about, causing the hood to his sweatshirt to fall back. Multicolored scars and blemishes covered his balding scalp. "But I also threw in an extra special treat."
"What is it?" said Fawn in a weary an unenthused voice, exchanging money for a small greasy brown paper bag from Ted's pants.
"A buddy of mine makes it- the one who got out of county a few months back."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah," Ted chuckled, "he calls it psychedelic meat- or something like that- psychic tuna- I don't know."
"Wow," Fawn mumbled sarcastically, "sounds great."
"Sorry I had to meet you out here," said Ted, ignoring her statement, "I've been out talking to the dead tonight- and I just can't seem to bring myself away."
Gus stifled a laugh while Fawn just groaned in annoyance, "oh yeah?"
"There's a witch buried here, you know? She supposedly lived out in the woods in a shack- she and her family of deformed freaks would murder lonely travelers and feed on their remains."
"I've never heard that," said Fawn chuckling.
Gus looked at the bizarre sculpture behind Ted. The eye seemed to follow his every moment. He could make out in tiny letters the word "blacktooth" crudely carved inside statue’s pupil.
"Well the voices on here told me all about it!" Ted exclaimed in in a manic voice- he revealed an object from the shadows and began waving the strange electronic device above his head. It resembled a broken answering machine system.
"What the hell is that?" said Fawn.
"Wouldn't you like to know!" Ted hissed with a sneering grin.
...............
"What a fucking fruitcake." said Fawn lighting up a new cigarette.
"He gives me the creeps- did he shave his eyebrows or something?"
"I think so- that mustache gets crazier every time though."
Gus laughed, "Are you going to try that psychic tuna?"
"The shit his buddy Carl made? I'm good on whatever 'treats' that pervert's cookin' up."
The two wandered towards the exit, this time cutting through a field of tombstones. Fawn continues to smoke as Gus becomes uneasy by the sound faint voices.
"Did you hear something?"
"No?"
"This place is freaking me out- do you know where the hell we're going?"
"It's just over there, near that-" Fawn's response was cut short by a bright spot light suddenly shining in her face. Both her and Gus froze in shock, believing they'd been caught by authorities. Just as they considered running, the beam pulled away with loud cackling laughter.
"You kids just get done checkin' out the ole' witch's grave?" said unfamiliar voice.
It took both Fawn and Gus several seconds to truly understand the sight before them. A strange looking elderly man stood waist deep in an open grave. His tattooed body and face were covered in dirt and blood. The splintered coffin he stood in contained a mummified corpse, covered in hundreds of multicolored worms.
"You know, they're supposed to bury these things six feet deep!" The man giggled, "that's what they say anyway."
"Are you the caretaker?" Fawn blurted, "Sorry we were just-"
"You guys wanna see somethin' really cool?" Curd interrupted Fawn again as he placed the 'lantern' onto the edge of the hole. He then raised his deformed mud caked left hand, revealing the same worms crawling out of a sore in his palm. "It's like magic."
While grinning hypnotically, the man began snapping his fingers with his right hand. Within seconds, the corpse melted and tore apart into a matter like mangled pot roast.
Fawn and Gus both gasped, still unable to move out of fear and confusion. Curd grabbed a handful of the gunk and shoveled it into his mouth.
"And my lover says I'm not a cheap date!" Curd exclaimed before cackling grotesquely at his own joke.
The light suddenly flicked, causing both the teens to notice the lantern was actually a large stone with a giant fleshy mouth. The beam came from the inside of a mouth, which went dark when the oversize tongue began licking at the air.
"Trust me," sang the stone, “he’s not!"
Both Curd and the stone began roaring in laughter, causing Fawn to begin screaming. She stumbled back into Gus sending both toppling to the ground. In terrified panic, they scrambled to their feet. The teens ran through an ocean of morning dew and darkness in search of the exit.
PART FOUR
"She told me my husband was cheating on me- and she was right!" exclaimed a wide-eyed smiling woman, "she even knew about my drug addiction and predicted I'd lose my job! It's like she knew me!"
"The psychic predicted my dog would give birth and that I would win a lottery!" said a mustached man with strange eyebrows, "a week later I won a contest for free canned tuna for life!"
Several more people appeared in the commercial displayed across a small screen. The television continued to broadcast to a dark lifeless apartment cluttered in piles of clothes and garbage. Sounds faded in from behind the front door before being unlocked and opened.
Gus and Fawn wandered in still reeling over the previous events.
"I mean seriously," said Fawn, "what was that!"
"I don't know, I'm still trying to wrap my head around whatever that was- it didn't make any sense"
Gus, set the remaining fast food bags on the coffee table while glancing at the television. While searching through a pile of items under the table he continued staring at the screen.
"Maybe we should call the cops or something." mumbled Fawn
"And say what?" Exclaimed Gus, still focused on the TV, "while breaking into a cemetery to buy drugs, we witnessed some fruitcake devouring corpses? It was probably a practical joke! - I bet your boyfriend Ted set the whole damn thing up!"
Gus pulled a corncob pipe from the pile and wandered over to Fawn- who paced near the couch nervously.
"He’s obviously not my boyfriend- what are you jealous?"
Fawn pulled small plastic baggy from the paper sack Kurt had given her. While loading small blue pellets into the pipe, Gus watched in impatient annoyance.
"I don't know man," said Gus, with a smile "who the fuck knows- maybe it had to do with that witch! Maybe we pissed of some spirits or something"
Fawn began laughing.
Gus snatched the now full pipe from Fawn's hands and took a hit. While exhaling a clouding of neon blue smoke, he groaned. “That fucking burger is churning my stomach like butter."
Fawn ignored Gus' statement and focused on the television while light up. An old movie was now playing in grainy black and white. A woman, whose eyes consisted of empty pits with lit cigarettes protruding from her face, murdered several men in a boardroom with clouds of smoke. Fawn began checking her pockets as the woman's maniacal laughter echoed from the screen.
"Dammit," Fawn exclaimed, "I think I left my cigarettes out in the car- I'll be right back.
Gus didn't answer as he wandered off down a hallway towards the bathroom. Fawn set the pipe next to the bags of fast food on the coffee table and hurried out of the apartment in annoyance.
After running down several flights of stairs, she hurdled her body into the creaking metal door to outside. The sky over the parking lot was somewhat illuminated in a bluish gray due to the distant rising sun.
As Fawn walked to her car, she noticed the lights were on inside her vehicle.
"What the hell?" she mumbled to herself.
Quickly, drawing closer, she spotted a figure rounding the side towards her.
Fawn stopped- her face contorting through a series of emotions.
Ted stood before her smiling.
Something seemed different about him. Black liquid pooled the corners of his mouth. His teeth were now the color of motor oil. She instantly realized she had mistaken his grin for a pained sneer.
"Ted? what the hell are you doing here?"
"Fawn! I-uh-I was hoping you guys were here!” Ted seemed to truly terrified- his eyes seemed distant and animal-like, his constant giggling seemed to be from shock. “You’ve gotta help me!”
"What's going on?"
"She's after me! She's trying to get me!"
"Huh? Who is?"
"The witch!" Ted hissed in a loud psychotic whisper.
"What?"
Fawn broke into laughter- part of her wondered if the whole thing incident at the cemetery was actually a practical joke- but deep down, she was terrified.
"Were you in my car before?" She continued after grabbing the pack of cigarettes from the driver's seat.
Ted began shaking his head violently, "You're not listening! She ate my fucking fingers!"
He yanked his hands from the pockets of his sweatshirt, revealing both to be severely deformed. Black crust and dried blood covered stumps as if the limbs had been burned off.
Fawn gasped in horror, "oh my god! You- you need to get to hospital! Oh my god Ted! What the fuck!"
"Hospital?" Ted began laughing, his demeanor changed from scared to manic. "What hospital!"
"Uh- wha-"
"She sent you out here didn't she? Didn't she!" Ted stepped away from Fawn, still giggling uncontrollably.
"You're trying to trick me!" Ted hurried away towards a small patch of trees overgrown on the other side of the parking lot.
"Ted! Wait!"
"Shut up! Shut your mouth!" Ted shouted psychotically, before disappearing into the shadows, "keep your face away from me!"
Confused and frightened, Fawn ran back into the building. Bounding up the stairs, she was inside the apartment- with door locked behind her- in just over a minute. She stumbled over to the couch out of breath and hung over the back of it.
"Gus!" She exclaimed panting, "I think Ted's finally snapped! I just saw him in the parking lot! He was acting like a loon- it was fucking crazy!”
Fawn stood up and stepped down the hall. She noticed the bathroom door was closed.
"Never mind-" she said after several seconds of silence, " I'll just tell you when you get out!"
Fawn walked back into the living room and plopped on the couch. She stared into space, still reeling over everything. Her attention was suddenly drawn to the television. Something in the dialog seemed familiar.
"...the family name, nor the forest they resided in was legally 'Blacktooth.' The phrase was actually derived from a mysterious disorder found only in the Gilbette family bloodline..." a woman narrated over a serious of old photographs.
Deformed individuals with rotting mouths, stared back at Fawn from the television.
A strange elderly woman appeared on the screen in an interview in front of a rundown gas station. "You'd see em' from time to time- shoppin' and such," the woman mumbled while lighting up a cigarette, "they were pretty strange- just kinda kept to themselves. People didn't like em' though ya know? They were real creepy- always had this weird stuff on their faces...People said it was a hereditary disease or somethin'- but I've heard it was a curse!"
"I don't really believe in a curse," the scene changed to round bookish man sitting behind a desk, “there’s a legend that one of ancestors of the Gilbette's was supposedly a witch. I think it's more local superstition and an uneducated reaction to mental and physical deformities."
"That's bull-" the scene transitioned again to tattooed teenager, whose explicative is instantly 'bleeped', "I know the truth! People died man! Animals were found mutilated! They want to act like it was all a misunderstanding but it's all there in the town history books man! People need to wake up!"
Fawn suddenly noticed a strange shuffling sound on the table- like mice. The fast food bags were moving on their own.
"Wha-" Fawn sputtered in confusion while jumping to her feet.
She slowly opened the bag- inside were several mummified fingers. The severed parts crawls and wriggled around as if alive. Fawn stumbled back, shrieking in disgusted fear.
The sounds of laughter came from down the hall.
She spun around and crept down the hall again. She could hear voices coming from inside the bathroom.
"Gus?" Fawn whispered before swinging open the door.
She gazed in speechless terror at the nightmarish scene before her. Gus sat slumped forward on the bathroom floor with his back to the same man, Curd, from the cemetery- who sat on the toilet.
The moss covered stone had been placed on the bright green sink counter and continued it’s bizarre laughter.
Gus was covered in familiar translucent worms and his body was slowly disintegrating.
Curd tore off a piece of his cheek like deli meat and fed it to the stone, then gave Fawn a rotten black grin.
"What are you looking at!" said Curd laughing and licking his fingers, "this ain't no free show lady!"
Gus suddenly began spazzing and shaking about violently. He made strange whines and muffled screaming sounds before lunging forward out of the bathroom.
"Dammit!" Curd shouted still laughing and snapping repeatedly with both hands.
Gus crawled towards Fawn, slapping his hands as he moved like a dying animal. He continued reaching for her as Fawn began screaming and ran down the hall. Attempting to get on his feet, Gus grabbed the wall for leverage. He swung around, entering the living room with a single step and barreled into Fawn. The two tumbled to floor, Gus literally crumbled apart on top of her. As she continued to scream, his flesh ballooned and exploded all over the floor.
As Fawn realized Gus' insides had somehow become marina sauce and mangled beef ravioli- Curd came waddling in with his rock 'lover', continuing wild laughter.
He fell to his knees and began scooping up handfuls of sauce from the carpet and shoveling it into his mouth.
"Get away from me!" Fawn screaming squirming away.
Curd continued laughing with a mouthful of food, "I not going to touch you! But I can't make any promises about her!"
Curd nodded up towards the ceiling.
Instinctually Fawn glanced up at the ceiling and choked back from screaming again.
A woman's corpse floated above her- staring and smiling. The creature's skull resembled a decaying pumpkin- with three large black sockets as eyes and a mouth.
An ocean of knotted hair wriggled about along the withered exoskeleton, slithering between bizarre jewelry attached to the being's face. A pair of large rusted metal hoop earrings were decorated in dozens of severed fingers- all in different stages of decomposition.
Like the hair, the fingers moved about of their own, clawing and grabbing at the corpse' face- forcibly contorting it into a grotesque grin.
Fawn couldn't move, she sat hypnotized- staring into the eye sockets of the creature before her. A strange glow back in the darkness of its head entranced her- the being was somehow controlling her body. Fawn wanted to run- to get help- but was now a prisoner in an unmoving mass. She could feel dozens of severed fingers entering from behind her eyes- scooping and digging through her brain- li fingernails scraping against her skull. Desperately trying to cry out- only her mind could scream.
PART FIVE
A large rusted vehicle pulled into the parking lot of "BEEF CITY" and came to a screeching halt along the side of the building. Chunks of dried green house paint crumbled off from around the words “paddy wagon” and fell to gravel covered asphalt.
As a man in a black and orange suit emerged from the passenger door, an older woman in restaurant uniform came walking up. Wiping ash from her khaki pants, she gave the man an exhausted smile.
"Thank god you're here. I think she's been back there all day!" said the woman with a cigarette hanging from her mouth.
The man quickly studied the woman from behind oversized plastic sunglasses. He glanced at the small name tag "Carol" on her breast, then gave her a strange grin.
"Thank you Carol! You’re…a doll!" the man chimed through gritted teeth. “Where is she?”
"In the back by the dumpsters- I saw her when I was taking out the trash! She was saying all kinds of crazy shit- I think she might be on drugs. She even tried to come in the building at one point,” Carol paused her excited ramble only to take a puff from her cigarette, "but she was barefoot and covered in blood or something!"
"Well you did the right thing by calling," the man said in an overdramatic voice, "we'll take it from here ma'am."
Two more men in similar orange jumpsuits crawled out of the back of the vehicle and ventured towards the back of the building.
Carol stared at the men, noticing how odd all of them appeared. Almost inhuman.
"Wait- you guys aren't cops" Carol exclaimed in confusion.
"Who said anything about cops, “replied one of the men smiling.
Fawn sat curled up next to the dumpster, while staring at the sky her whole body shook violently. Random articles of trash were beginning to pile around her and cover her body.
She seemed unphased when the three men surrounded her, all laughing quietly.
"Who…are…you?" sang Fawn in a slow, strained voice- finally noticing the men.
"We're here to help you"
Fawn smiled, revealing a mouthful of rot and decay. Black mold and infection tore away her lips and cheeks. The strange look in her eyes was an image the three men had witnessed many times before.
"You can't help me- no one can!"
"Why don't you come with us-"
"I can't- I can't leave this spot or they'll see me-"
One of the men chuckled while the other two began pulling the articles of garbage off Fawn.
"Who will see you," said the man, kneeling down near her.
"Don't see them?" Fawn uttered in confusion, "The birds! Those giant birds all around us! They're after me! Can't you seem them up there?"
The man stared up at the cloudless sky. The sun had had already begun to set in the distance, causing splatters of orange and red to creep in.
"There's thousands of them- and they all her have her face!" Fawn continued, now crying.
“That face! That awful face- please- you see them, don't you? Don't you see them! They're everywhere."
"Yeah, sure lady," the man responded through gritted teeth while Fawn was led to towards the nearby vehicle. Fawn continued to cry as the leftover trash slowly drifted off her clothing.
"I see 'em." the man began laughing, "Whatever you say."