by W.P. Gerace
A man is taught a lesson one that he will never forget for his mistake.
W. P. Gerace
“Shit. What the hell was that?” John bolted straight out of his bed, sweat trickling down his face, his arm suddenly numbs as if he were having a significant stroke, providing him no sensation.
As soon as he asked, as if whatever this was retaliated just for asking the question, it came back with its invisible teeth and bit him, this time in the back of his neck. A steady stream of blood trickled down his back. His vision suddenly blurred as his blood boiled inside like something radioactive had just injected itself into him. Clutching his bed sheets, this is one time he wished his ex-girlfriend Norma Jean was around. She would know exactly what to do here; a career spanning nearly twenty plus in nursing made her quite the asset. Sadly, she could not take his binge drinking and reckless life living. It was too much for her anxiety. She was gone three weeks now. If only he knew what just bit him or what was happening, maybe he could get on his phone, look it up, and find something to eliminate the pain. That numbing now spread to his neck, making it impossible for him to move.
Again, in the middle of this sultry late July night, the invisible creature or insect attacked his left leg. More blood spewed about as if it hit a primary vein. In the distance, John heard the blaring of an ambulance. Soon he might be riding in one of those. Trying to get to his phone halfway across the bed proved to be quite a struggle as he could not even move his hands far enough to grab anything. Any attempt to move drove sharp dagger-like pains through his body and a deep hot sensation that felt like his insides were burning up inside. With each passing moment, his small one-bedroom apartment became tinier as his vision was blurred, and he could not see much of anything.
“Ah, I see you met my pet. You should have been more careful when driving and hit my grandson; you creep! You will pay now with your life! “The old woman from the car accident was inside his apartment, her dark sable eyes illuminating the darkness around him. They had tiny speckles of silver in the middle of them.
“You, how did you figure out where I lived? This is illegal. What you are doing, I can have you arrested. “John spoke, hoping she would be scared off, but deep down, he sensed this woman, with her frail body and jet-black shawl, had more power in her than any woman he had ever encountered.
Playing back the scene from a few hours ago, he recalled the terrible accident. He could not afford another DUI or would lose his job at the School as a Dean. He knew the kid too. He was a third grader at Hawkins Elementary. He was a little brat. He could not remember his name, but his fire-red hair and freckles reminded John of some demonic-possessed child you would see on television. Obviously, there must have been some truth to that, as his ability to speak was also beginning to go away. He could feel the loss of all his muscle movement and ability to move his lips.
“Fool! You think I fear some punk-ass police! Stupid! I am not afraid of them or anyone else! I have been dealing with mortals like you for centuries. But what you did to my little Teddy, you will pay for with your life John Martin! Yes, I know your name and a lot about you, too, from your drinking problem to your divorce. Your two kids don’t even talk to you and can’t deal with all the drinking and lies. Shall I go on? “Walking close to him, her tiny body lit up in a circle of red as she flew up in the air.
Digging into her left pocket, she brought out what must be the thing that bit John. It was petite, a brownish-red bug with ebony eyes and tiny fangs in place of its nose. Swishing around, those sharp teeth glistened with probably John’s blood and a murky green substance. That must have been the poison that paralyzed John.
John wanted to plead for his life, but his ability to talk was gone. Suddenly his ability to swallow was constricted. Breathing became a chore as his lungs started to close off. He could hear the valves of his organs shut off as if he was suddenly given the extra ability to listen to every bodily function. Nausea hit the pit of his stomach. He felt like he had received a hard square punch in the center. Unable to open his lips to let the bile out, it forced itself into his stomach. That deep sensation of acid and indigestion burned through him in sharp pain.
“Did you honestly think I would let you get away with running my grandson over, you fucking maggot? “The woman questioned as she hovered above him, letting the creature loose onto John’s chest.
John tried to squirm, but every limb was numb, as if all his nerve endings were cut off. With its beady ink-black eyes, the creature dug its teeth into the center of his chest. Making this awful slurping sound like that of some kid drinking the last bit of a tasty milkshake, its eyes suddenly filled with his blood. Slowly he saw his blood filter up in the creature’s eyes.
Each passing second brought him closer to the inevitable. Hearing his heart slow up at a slow beat, it wouldn’t be long before it would stop. His ability to breathe was tedious. Every breath took the life out of him. Slowly the room became a dark abyss. He could hear the woman’s loud cackling laughter saying she would see him in hell.
John wanted to tell her he was so sorry. It was a mistake, he had too much to drink, but he never got a chance to make amends. The last he could hear was his own heart stop beating. Darkness surrounded him as his ability to breathe ceased.