Horror / CIRCADIAN Part One
Part 1, 1
AN EYE FOR AN EYE, A TOOTH FOR THE MOUTH
Distant and distraught, the voices in his head echoed like a chamber ensemble. He reached up and clasped his head between his hands, trying to focus. But he couldn’t. Thoughts drifted in and out of his head randomly like plankton in the ocean. He realized he was lying face down on the ground. What happened? He thought, this has to be a dream. He lifted his head up; a thin strand of drool stretched from the edge of his mouth to the small puddle of blood and spit on the ground as if it were trying to hold him down, hold him down into the filth and grime of his past, then it snapped and fell into the puddle.
His head hurt, it seemed that it always hurt like this, all over. He tried to stand but
(NO STOP IT!)
a fresh wave of pain surged through his body, nauseating him. He bent over and threw up. With every spasm of his stomach spewing this fowl liquid from his body onto the cement floor it sent another surge of pain through his head, making it ring.
Finally his body decided to stop being a fountain from hell and he was able to try to stand again. Too fast. As he lifted up, his head spun, it seemed every thing was spinning. He felt himself begin to fall; unsure of the direction of up or down.
The ground answered that question for him.
He landed on his back, his head smacked against the concrete, sending multi-colored dots to dance before his eyes. He slammed his eyes shut. He stared into the darkness of the back of his eyelids watching the remains of the dots drift around. He let his head stop spinning and opened his eyes.
(NO DON”T!)
He decided to try to stand again. He slowly stood up. He thought he was going to fall again but he was able to stable himself against the wall, He tried to think but, there was nothing, just a question. Blank darkness, a void of nothing in his mind. And then it hit him, like a smack in the face the memory flooded in.
Someone was screaming in the distance. He was running, running as fast as he could; more screaming, engulfing him. It seemed as if he were trying to escape the ambient, persistent yell and couldn’t, infuriating him. Someone’s face, a woman’s, her mouth was slightly open as if thinking, she was making a faint noise from her throat but it wasn’t her mouth that caught his attention; it was her eyes. They seemed to have nothing in them, vacant, and yet there was something there. Nothing and something at the same time. How can this be?
Screams, NO, NO DON’T! He was running through the woods. His woods. It was dark. He came to a field. His field. There were people walking along the edge of the field with flashlights; searching for something. Searching for him, in his field. He took a step forward and now, those people were his too.
Red. All he sees is red, all he feels is anger, blind anger. Then he was running again, running until his veins exploded and his body pumped battery acid. Screams. This time louder than ever, screaming from all directions, then he traced the screams back to where they started. From his own throat.
Then he was back, leaning against the wall to steady himself, screaming. He screamed until his voice cracked and his vocal cords tore. Then he screamed some more. He toppled forward, and then, as if the levees had broken in New Orleans, he began to cry, long harsh sobs that seemed to shake his body as a whole. And then it stopped; everything stopped. And the question that was once there folded beneath the answer and left a place of solitude and serenity. His cave. He felt protected in his cave. It was some thing that he could shy away into. A place where he could escape the perils and tedium’s of life and just rest and be alone, but something else was there. Something more horrible and hostile than anything he could have ever imagined before and it was waiting. Waiting for him.
2
A beautiful day, Mary Sheen thought as she looked through the window of her two story home, watching the sun melt through the curtains, listening to the birds serenading her, watching them fly around. Aeronautics fascinated her, flight, every thing about it she loved. She pulled her binoculars back up to her eyes, watching a cardinal land safely on a dog wood tree. The phone rang, yanking her out of her tranquility, she ran her hand through her long, straight, red hair, and stood. She walked across the den to the phone, and picked it up.
“Hello?” on the other end of the line was silence, “Hello?” silence, she was about to replace the phone onto its cradle when through the ear piece was an eruption of screaming, a shrill persistent scream, that radiated out into the room.
“Hello Who is this? What’s wrong? What’s going on?” She could not put the phone all the way to her ear because of the shrieking, and then there was a pause, “Hello?” Mary’s voice shook. On the other end of the line Mary could hear breathing, then the person spoke.
“Happiness is a mystery, lost in the field of one’s own desires and wants, not needs.” The voice was a man’s it sounded sort of robotic, like a recording, “In God we trust. Yes. But when God is our money, what are we fighting for? Our persistent love for money is tearing us down, piece by piece. Love though, is just a figment of our imaginations. Something people use to explain stupidity and to try to regulate insanity. Love can drive us all insane though, can’t it?”
“Who is this?” Mary said, “What do you want?”
There was a pause, “Don’t interrupt me again Mary,” this was not a recording, his voice was firm, unfamiliar, it sent a chill down Mary’s spine making the hairs on her neck stand on end, she wanted to speak, but didn’t dare. She felt as if the man could’ve reached through the phone and killed her if she said any thing else, impossible, but she didn’t even want to let him hear her breathing.
He continued, “people are so caught up with there own self-centered, apathetic existence, shrugging their shoulders at the less fortunate, saying, ‘It’s not us’ but it is us, us humans that is. Well Mary what goes around comes around, full-circle, full blown, and ten fold. You’d better watch your back Mary, ‘cause I am too. Tu t’es pas regard’e. Tu veux jouer? Joue cartes sur table, c’est ta derniere carte!”
And he hung up.
Mary held the phone to her ear for a little while longer, listening to the enhh, enhh, enhh, of the dead line. She slowly replaced the receiver, she noticed she was shaking all over, and that she was sweating.
“Who was that?” she said aloud her voice sounded unfamiliar, distant. What was that last thing he said? French? She had to sit down, regain her composure, maybe she just imagined it, yeah that was it; it was all in her head. She’d just sit down and dismiss the idea, it was nothing.
Then why could she still hear the screaming so vividly in her head?
She sat back in the chair facing the window and shakily picked up her binoculars and peered through them again, she looked again for the cardinal; she found it, in the exact same place it had been before. Her heart lifted, it was such a beautiful bird. As she watched, a huge raven landed on the same branch as the cardinal.
“Weird,” she said aloud. The raven cahhed beside the cardinal and started to peck it vigorously, Mary gasped, this really was weird, it sent another chill down her spine, she felt unsafe, vulnerable. The cardinal flapped it’s wings trying to fly away but the larger more powerful raven jumped up and clasped it between its talons and killed the cardinal.
After this the raven looked toward Mary. At Mary. Through Mary. Into her being, piercing her thoughts making her feel naked and afraid. She realized she was standing now and subconsciously took a step back. The raven cahhed again as if speaking to Mary then it jumped into the air and started to fly toward her knocking the dead cardinal onto the ground.
She took another step back; there was a horrible sound of bone crunching against glass as the bird slammed against the window, making it rattle in its frame, breaking the bird’s neck. Mary screamed in fright, and then as if on cue a barrage of birds began to soar into the window. Mary watched in amazement. Watched the birds slam to their death like a Kamikaze attack. Watched as a small crack began to form in the window. The birds are trying to break in, she thought, this is insane! If they break in they’ll kill me, just like they killed the cardinal. She didn’t know what made her think that but for some reason, she felt it to be true. She had to get out. But where could she go?
Terror possessed her then, infinite terror that chilled her bones, she turned and ran, not knowing where to, behind her the unmistakable sound of the window shattering filled the room, she ran through a door, slamming it behind her. She heard the birds begin to fling themselves into the wooden door.
“No, no, this isn’t happening, this can’t be real.” She took a few more steps back and bumped into a table knocking her car keys on the floor. One of the birds slammed its head through the door, and stuck. It looked at Mary; a thin trickle of blood was running down the door, it began to cah numerous times at Mary as if cursing her. She grabbed her keys from the floor and bolted out of the back door, just as the birds broke through.
She ran around her house and jumped into her car. Her hands were shaking so bad she could barely put the keys into the ignition, Come on! Come on! She thought frantically.
Finally she put the keys in and started the car, she slammed the car into reverse and pulled out of her driveway, as she was putting it in drive she glanced at her house, her jaw dropped.
As if her house was a bee hive and the birds were the bees, they were swarming all around it. It looked as if a moving dark cloud had descended over and around her house. The birds had shattered all the windows, busted down the doors, and were probably tearing up everything else inside. Something is terribly wrong, she thought as she drove off away from her infested home.
3
He knew what needed to be done, what must be done. He just didn’t know when or how. He still had his hand against the wall, his head was still spinning as if he had just woken up abruptly from a deep sleep, but he was able to gather his thoughts, he was able to think, to process. He felt strangely alive. Renewed. He had a strange sense of power that was so unusual in his mundane life, until now. Until this change.
He stood up straight, putting his hand by his side. The only way to accept the future is to conquer my past, he thought, it’s all stretched out before me, like my shadow, it is me, following me, forcing me to step over my past, to wade in the waters of my adolescence and my complacence. Threatening to bring me down, down into the cold and dark waters.
It wasn’t him thinking this now, no; it was some other atrocious being inside of him. His mind had been eroded away and in its place was this thing. He or it knew that things have already been set in place, it had already begun, and time was ticking away. He began to walk forward, out of the room he had awakened in. Down a dimly lit hallway, out the front door and out onto the street.
The sun shined down on him hurting his eyes. He pulled his hand over his eyes shielding the suns rays. He inhaled deeply through his nose, he could smell it. A smile formed on his face.
A raven flew down onto his shoulder, he looked at it, as he did it rustled its wings nervously. His smile faded. He looked at it for awhile, through the bird, into the bird, reading its thoughts as if he had spilled them out onto the pavement.
His eyes narrowed, he shook his head. The raven started to cah madly, he shook his head again. The bird’s chest began to pulse up and down, its wings began to flap wildly, but it never left the man’s shoulder, couldn’t leave his shoulder. He shook his head again, the birds chest exploded, blood flew out and splattered on the man’s face, he watched the bird fall on the ground, blood trickling from the open hole in its chest.
The man stared at the bird for awhile, and then shook his head again. The blood on his face began to flow upward into his eyes, he tilted his head back opening his mouth slightly making a constant gurgling sound in his throat letting every last drop of blood run into his eyes.
After all of it had, he closed his eyes and lifted his middle and index finger to his lips as if thinking. He stood like this for a while and then opened his eyes again. They were red with blood all except for the little black pupils in the center, the redness faded away, melted away into the back of his head. He turned and stepped on the dead raven, it made a faint crunching-squishing noise as he began to walk down the side walk, whistling.
4
It placed the phone back on the receiver, smiling, revealing dog-like canines for teeth. “It has begun.” It said, its voice was deep, intrusive, it would make a baby cry, bring a strong man down to his knees. Its eye’s were red they seemed to glow in the darkness, it walked to the edge of the room, no, glided to the edge of the room, it was dark, but it had no trouble seeing. It placed a long crude-looking hand on the wall. That woman, it thought, she must be punished! That is the only way. She’s fragile, vulnerable, but still . . . a threat and must be stopped. All the others weren’t able to resist, except her. She has to be stopped. It smiled again, that’s where he comes in, my ignorant, unwilling apprentice.
It walked to the center of the room and lifted its head up toward the ceiling while opening its mouth slightly, making a constant gurgling noise in its throat. It was meditating, sending its mind away to the man leaning against the wall remembering, screaming, he can’t stop this, no one can. The man in the room stopped screaming and moved out of the room, taking a part of it with him.
Mary drove like a bat out of hell, getting as far away from her house as she could. Behind her blue lights flashed into her rear-view mirror.
“Damn it!” she slammed her hand onto the steering wheel; the last thing she needed right now was a ticket. But then a thought occurred to her, she’d tell the cop about what happened at her house.
The cop tapped on her window, “Going a little fast there, weren’t you ma’am.” As if he didn’t know.
“Officer! Officer.” She had to calm down, “there-there is something wrong . . . these birds . . . they . . . they attacked me, they broke into my house and . . . and . . .” she knew she sounded crazy, like a ranting and raving lunatic. Maybe that’s what she was, a lunatic, no, she wiped that thought out of her head. “Officer,” she looked up at him, he was staring at her with insane, wild eyes, his eyes were shining, there was a sudden glint in them and he began to bark at Mary like a dog. He was drooling from his mouth, barking at Mary, spraying spit into her car and on her face.
“What the-! Stop it! Stop it! No” she rolled up her window. The cop stood back and pressed his face into the window. He wasn’t barking anymore but screaming, screaming at the top of his lungs. He began to pound his fist into the window; it looked as if he were smiling. Mary put the car in gear and sped off, the cop dropped down on all fours and began to chase her.
Mary watched through the rear-view mirror as the cop faded into the distance. Her knuckles white on the steering wheel. She looked ahead, her breathing was unstable. What’s going on? She thought. Then a dog walked out in front of her car and stood there looking at her, it looked oddly familiar and as the dog did this a bird flew into her car and began to peck wildly at her head.
Mary screamed in agony, she lifted her hands from the steering wheel flailing them about wildly; her hand hit the radio and turned the volume almost up to full blast. Through the speakers Maynard from A Perfect Circle screamed “Counting bodies like sheep to the rhythm of the war drums!” Mary finally was able to hit the bird and send it flying out of the car, she looked ahead; the dog was still there. She screamed once again, grabbed the steering wheel and swerved trying to avoid the dog.
Her car skidded out of control,
(Counting bodies like sheep!)
The car flew off the road, narrowly missing a tree, and then went soaring into a ditch, the car flipped twice; there was a horrible sound of metal on wood as the car slammed into a tree landing on its side and then rolled onto its top. Mary was knocked unconscious, through the damaged speakers of her car Maynard sang, “I’ll be the one to protect you from your enemies and all your demons.”
5
He walked down the street silently. It was mid-afternoon and people were doing various jobs around their houses.
“Hey Frank! I haven’t seen you around in the past few weeks.” A man cutting his grass called out to him, “Frank! Hey Frank.” It did not know this man as Frank once had, “Been on vacation?” the man stopped cutting his grass and walked to Frank.
“Yeah. Yeah. Vacation, I’ve been on vacation.” Frank’s words fell from his mouth and it was pushing them out. It almost laughed at the thought of a vacation for Frank. Yeah, a vacation alright. I bet he’s loving this! It thought.
“Frank, are you alright man, you don’t look too good.”
“I didn’t sleep very well last night.” Ha Ha Ha! “I’ve got to be going now.”
“Alright man, keep it easy will ya’. I’ll see you later.” The man walked off and resumed cutting his grass. Frank’s body began to walk down the street again. His mind focused only on one thing, the woman. His lips curled into a smile at the thought of how easy it all seemed.
All he had to do was find her and then . . . then he could end this, and begin.
The animals must’ve already done their part by now so she is immobile. Ha Ha! So simple it all seemed, so easy his task would be. Search and destroy.
Mary’s eyes opened, they felt heavy and tired. She tried to lift her head but found she was too weak. So tired, it would be so easy to just go to sleep. No! She thought defiantly, I must stay awake, stay alive. Something is happening and I must find out what it is or at least find a safer place to stay until this whole thing blows on over. She tried to move her arm, but pain reverberated through her veins making them tense and lifeless. No I’ve got to get out of here! She pleaded silently, tears now streamed from her eyes. Not so much as in pain, but in desperation.
She looked around, it was dark, not a good sign. She couldn’t tell if she were upright or upside down. She let some spit form in her mouth and spat into the air, she heard it splat against the hood of her car signifying that she was upside down. She wiggled her fingers; they moved telling her that her arm was not broken.
Once again she tried to move her arm, she was able to lift it up and unbuckle her seatbelt. She fell hard onto the roof of her car, she yelled in pain; but she was free. She crawled to the glove compartment (the door to it had fallen off) and grabbed a flashlight she turned it on and thanked God when the light cut through into the darkness.
Mary panned the beam of light around the car, and then examined herself. She was bleeding from her left arm; there was a gash on it just below her shoulder. She was badly bruised and had slight trouble breathing, but other than that, she was okay.
She made her way to the door and thrust it open, wincing as her shoulder hit the metal. She fell out of the car noticing the immediate blackness of the world around her. She pointed her flashlight ahead of her and examined her totaled car and wondered how she ever survived the crash. God must be with her. She stood straight up, her back hurt, and began to walk forward. Her mind was a savage sea of questions; she had no idea of how long she had been unconscious except for the fact that it was daylight then and dark now.
She wanted to go home.
What home?
What had gone on between the times she was out and between now, because (by what has been happening so far) she wasn’t even sure if the world would be the same, actually she wasn’t sure of anything anymore.
She was shaking; it wasn’t cold outside, but nevertheless. She was afraid, no, terrified of what was going on. What was going to happen to her, but now was not the time to worry about these things. She had to get to the police.
(Bark Bark, AHHHHHHHH!)
No, she couldn’t go to the police. Then where? Where could she go? She began to walk forward into the blackness guided only by the beam of light by her flashlight. She found the road and started to walk toward town. Someone there must now what’s going on. Someone has to be able to help me, she told herself.
But somewhere in the back of her mind something told her just the opposite.
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Seriously surreal opening, which, if I remember correctly from previous submissions is something of a trademark. As luck would have it, surrealism is a state I prefer to languish in and this delivered in abundance. I have no idea where it’s going or indeed how the threads will tie together, but the pace is hectic and infectious. Again until I’ve read more it will be difficult to tell but you’re doubtless aware of the use of birds elsewhere and I’m hoping you’ll use them to your advantage as you progress the story.
There is some seriously bad grammar on display here but it comes across as colloquial and as such shouldn’t be tampered with: it adds to the reality of the setting over which the surreal lies. I don’t think you’re out to be a clinically perfect grammatician, what you want is to pour out words to achieve an end and that you do extremely well.
The one thing I love about reading your work is your clear, unbridled enjoyment in the genre and the work of writing itself…your opening notes assessment is correct: I have no real idea where this is heading but I look forward very much to finding out.
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This is an intriguing piece, it is very unclear but you did say that at the beginning. You are very descriptive when you write and you use some great adjectives such as ‘like plankton in the ocean’.
I like the beginning it is attention grabbing and you put the little details in, such as when he is sick its described ‘With every spasm of his stomach spewing this fowl liquid from his body onto the cement floor it sent another surge of pain through his head, making it ring’. I also like the idea of the birds attacking her, very Alfred Hitchcock and that film always terrified me!
Im not sure if there should be quotation marks around the thoughts instead of brackets, to signify they are thoughts.
Some of your sentences are slightly too long ‘The phone rang, yanking her out of her tranquility, she ran her hand through her long, straight, red hair, and stood.’ Keep the detail but try and break it down a little bit more with.
There were also a couple of spelling errors, ‘shined down’ should be ‘shone down’.
Generally a good piece and I would be interested to see where you go with it.
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