The Dark Goddess - 4

I've been shot, stabbed, beaten to shit and run over. That was a fun day. My body's a wasteland of scar tissue over layers of muscles so thick I don't even feel pain until bones start breaking. 

Having said that, I'm lying here almost out of blood, and I'm covered in bellboy carcass. 

The darkness bubbles up from the bottom of my psyche. 'Do it,' it whispers, 'it's the only way out, and we both know it, man just do it do it now DO IT NOW YOU FUCKING COWARD--'

I will not listen. I will not give in. I am not a monster. I look around for a clock. Norhing. The window faces east, and the sun's just coming up. The cleaning lady will come soon. She'll see the mess, and I'll tell her I need help. She'll get the cops and an ambulance in here, and I'll be fine. Cops probably won't even book me for it, but it don't look good at all. Then again, I'll live.  

'Or,' the darkness whispers, 'she doesn't speak a word of English, she screams, runs out of here screeching, leaves the door open, and attracts every other meathead in the place. Think about it, Joey.' I think of anything else. 'Here's a better idea, buddy.' I will not listen. 'Do what you know you have to do, and let's go get some waffles, man.' No. Not even for a second. I will not. I am a man, goddamm-- 

'JOE.' The thunder of my name obliterates every other thought in my head. It's my voice, but angrier. Seething.  'QUIT BEING A MORON. USE YOUR ENVIRONMENT TO YOUR ADVANTAGE. YOU KNOW THAT. WE ARE RUNNING OUT OF TIME, SO QUIT BEING A PUSSY AND GET IT DONE.'

It's no use. I have no choice. My eyes drift closed a moment, and my voice breaks the silence. "You get 10 seconds. That's it." My body relaxes, and I feel the darkness bubble through me like acid reflux. I don't fight it. In my head, I start counting. 

One. I can feel the rush of blood through my body as every drop redirects itself to the nearest opening it can find. My heart panics, thumping the inside of my chest like a pissed off gorilla in a cage. 

Two. All of my skin seems to strech as perforations begin to appear, opening like hundreds of tiny, hungry mouths...

Three. Every ounce of the bellboy's blood, and every other available bodily fluid is sucked right off the corpse. Four. I will not watch, but I have watched a man shrivel like that. It's not pretty. Five. The pain of this is indescribable. The mouths widen ever further, sprouting row upon row of needle-like teeth that tear through my flesh and begin to gnash. Six. 

My mind is screaming at me not to lose control. Seven. The pulpy, crunching noises as they break down the rest of the bellboy is maddening. Eight. Nothing is wasted: bones, hair, teeth, fingernails. My body devours it all. 

Nine. My wounds are closing, and strength floods through me as my heart normalizes, and my breathing calms, but it's not enough. I need more. We'll straighten up, wait for the cleaning lady, eat her too, and then maybe we'll call downstairs and get Sphincter up here so we can tear that pencil-neck's fuckin' head off and then--'

Nine and a half. Get the hell back down there. 'Hey man c'mon you love the feeling of it and we both--'

Nine and three quarters. Get your ass out of here, or the first thing I will do when I can get up is use my shaver to cut my own throat. 

...

Ten. 

I get up, head toward the bathroom, and take a look at the damage. Not too bad. I'll have to ditch the clothes, though. 

A knock at the door and my guts drop to my knees. " Servicio de habitaciones, Señor?" It takes a minute to focus. 

'I told you,' the darkness hisses. 

"Uh... One minute, lady." I grab everything I can and head for the balcony, hoping there's a fire escape. 

Nope. Three story fall, straight to the sidewalk. 

I'll live. 

- © Jackson Cambridge, 2015.