THIRTEEN
The creature that sat across the table from me was still partially
human. I could make out human flesh and hair, fingers and bones... teeth shaped
from bones. Sharp and hungry. A solitary eye seemed focused upon me, its gaze
becoming more apparent as the remaining smoke drifted away. As it clarified it
looked more and more like the eye had been fashioned from a nipple – I surmised
that it couldn’t have been one of his actual eyes seeing as they had exploded
out somewhere into the chilly canteen, probably looking at me now too.
The center of its
nipple-eye had the same verdure of the thing in the pallet, glinting at me,
gawking at me. I found myself unable to move, the past and present events too
peerless to comprehend. Around me I continued to hear the sniffles of snot and
tears as people wept in fear. Incontrollable blubbering had replaced the
screams that had only momentarily diminished. I wanted to be the one to perform
the encore, screaming directly into the warped, grotesque beast that sat across
the canteen table from me.
It was a thing made up
of my old workmate, Roger, and something entirely else. It sat there like a
wild dog, breathing heavily, focused and ready to pounce. Visually it resembled
a concoction of a man and a beast chewed up and spat out by a huge, bloodied
and gaping mouth of razor sharp teeth, regurgitated back up. It was about the
size of a bulldog, albeit a bulldog that had been turned inside out. I didn’t wish
to study its body in too much detail but at a glance it brought to mind imagery
from Clive Barker’s Hellraiser. If only
I had a puzzle cube at hand to send the hellish creature back to the dark
domain it emanated from. Unfortunately, I had no such device and so the animal
remained, starkly, as real as my tuna sandwich and the blood stained playing
cards, in the room with us all.
The smoke that had
once cloaked the whole canteen now only glided around its crazy flesh –
clinging to it as if cradling it; protecting it. Somehow I didn’t fear it
lurching up at me. It was as if it knew who it used to be, only moments ago.
There was an ineffable understanding between us. Nothing on (what I assumed
was) its face communicated any definite emotions towards me, and yet I felt
safe before it.
Finally (even though
it was only actually a matter of seconds) it took its nipple-eye off me and moved
its head around to look across the room. I think it was probably a reformed toe
beneath its eye that appeared to be sniffing at the air. Sniffing the people in
the room, the other life forms. The jagged bones that made up its terrible
mouth snapped open and shut. Newly remodeled bones, modeled into small but
immensely sharp teeth in a freakish little mouth of pain. Livid personified.
Its head shifted back to me. Just for a second or two. Then it sprang from its
seat and slapped down onto the cold, wet floor.
Thingy, using its
host’s hands to shift around upon, stumbled as it attempted to find its footing
(or its handing, if you want to be pedantic). Its head was directed at the door and
it began to sniff at the air again, like a tracker dog; a bloodhound with a
purpose unknown. Pandora and Ellen attempted to clamber further behind the
vending machine, with no further retreat available. The door was adjacent to
the machine, and so close to the creature they clearly felt vulnerable. But
Thingy wasn’t interested. Rising up onto its newly found and formed legs
(Roger’s old fingers, I think) the messy gore-hound took one last sniff at the
air and bolted out of the room, leaving behind a streak of greenish, white
smoke and a collection of gasps, screams and cries from the room full of
interrupted diners. I felt compelled to utter ‘You gotta’ be fucking kidding’, but thwarted by the intense seriousness of the situation, I
refrained.
TAKEN FROM "THE THINGY FROM ANOTHER WORLD" BY KILLIAN H. GORE
THE FULL NOVELLA WILL BE AVAILABLE IN "THE THING UNAUTHORIZED QUIZ BOOK"
OUT TO BUY FROM AMAZON THIS APRIL
