The Devil’s Boy

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When John was little, the one thing he loved most in the world were nuggets.

He didn’t know what it was about those little breaded chunks of meat, but once his ma has fried up a batch of those crispy treats and popped one into his mouth, he was hooked. His pop-pop had bought them as a treat on his fifth birthday, but lil’ John always wanted more.
Whether dipped in barbecue sauce, or eaten plain, John loved munching on that sweet savory meat. He could have nuggets for lunch, dinner, and when ma had to milk the cows early in the morning, he would sneak out the leftovers for breakfast. Punishment would follow if he got caught, but he didn’t care. The only thing that mattered were the nuggets.
One thing about nuggets though, there was no way to make them on the farm. So every week, Pop-pop would put the boy in the pickup, and drive down to the city to get a bag of them down at the Safe-mart. It was the only time John got alone with Pop-pop, so he tagged along without fuss. He never liked the city much, and it didn’t like him either. It was loud, crowded, and the people there liked talking too much.
In the city, John would put a hand to his face when somebody got near, he didn’t like them staring, but still he could hear them, whispering and sniggering all round. “Pay no attention to them John,” Pop-pop would say, and the adults would leave him alone. But it was the children who were the cruelest one.
Rat-face, freak-show, retard, just some of the names the children in this accursed city called him. They would point, laughing at his protruding teeth, his sagging left eye, and the constant dribble that went down the side of his mouth. John hated them, and he made up his mind early to never ever live in the city.
Inside the safe-mart, things were no better. The constant stares left him feeling awkward, and there was nowhere in the bright-lit aisles to hide. Pop-pop was friends with the supervisor in the store, and he would go round back with her for a little chat, leaving John to fend for himself in the frozen section. John resented his father for that, but it usually meant a dinner of MickeyD’s nuggets later, so he never complained.
But the safe-mart was also where he discovered kindness. Barrett, the butcher, has noticed the boy alone, and unlike the rest, he would beckon for him to come over, inviting him to watch him work. Barrett would talk, and John would listen. The man would sharpen his blades and chop up the meat, stacking them high on the counter, waiting for customers to pick out the choicest bits.
Sometimes, business in the store was slow, and he would cook up a little something for the boy. He knew John loved nuggets, but he wanted John to experiment. Cutting up meats into the same size chunks as nuggets, he would bread them and fry them up, offering John a little taste of everything. John liked him, and he liked the treats, they soon became fast friends.
Then one day, just like any other, Barrett was slicing up a side of beef. His knife slipped. In the blink of an eye, John watched as the blade severed the end of Barrett little finger, chopping through the bone just below the first segment. The dismembered digit flopped on the table and rolled onto the floor. John looked at it as the butcher stood there screaming bloody murder.
John had no recollection of crying then, he only remembered watching. He watched when the finger bounced and twitched on the floor, its white skin and pink flesh coated in the still-warm blood of Barrett. It called out to the boy, like a nugget. John walked over and picked it up.
“Gimme that son, I need to get it to a… what are you doing…John NO!”
Pop-pop heard the screams, and came charging back into the store, his hands swrestling with the buckle of his belt. He found his young son staring at the stricken butcher, blood stains on his little hands, and a red gob trickling down the side of his chin. John was gnawing on something, he turned around and gave his Pop-pop a happy look.
“The devil! The devil!” Barrett screamed, flailing his arms, trying to get help.
“Oh hell John…” Pop-pop quietly took his son into his arms, and fled away from the store.
News spread like wildfire. By the time they have reached home, TV reporters were already covering the story, calling John the devil’s boy. Soon, Pop-pop knew they would come for him. He got out his shotgun and loaded it up.
The angry mob got there before the police, arriving in cars and pickups that stretched up down the road. The man leading them was their pastor, and he demanded that the boy be handed over, so that the demon can be exorcised.
“But he’s an angel, my angel,” Ma had told them, pleading with the men while pop-pop shoved his gun up their faces.
“That’s up to the good Lord to decide Betsy. I told ya you and Eric were never meant to be, and now you shall know His wrath. Sister should never marry brother, that just ain’t right. Now bring out the boy so that we can do what’s right.”
Pop-pop fired shots into the air, stopping the men’s advance. “RUN BOY RUN!” Inside the house, John heard his father’s cry. “I’m warning ya, take another step forward and I’ll…”
“And you’ll what?” The pastor challenged, walking right up to the barrel of his gun. “In the name of the Father, I command you to bring out the cursed child and…”
A single shot silenced the crowd. Was it his trembling fingers or his anger, John would never know. Pop-pop had fired the shot that would change this community forever. Time stood still as the old man flew off the ground, landing back five feet away with a crunching thud. The crowd went berserk.
John ran. Out the backdoor he went, never turning back as gunshots filled the air. He heard screams, one of them sounded like his Ma. But still he did what he had promised them, he ran. Pass the barn and into rows of corn, he chanced a look back. Ma and Pop-pop were nowhere in sight.
“Where are you devil-boy?” A man in a black coat said, as men swarmed the shack, looking for the boy,
“He ain’t here!”
“Well, what are you waiting for then. Burn him out, burn everything!”
John watched as the men lit up the shack that he had lived in his entire life. The wooded panels caught easily, and soon the fire spread. It became a towering inferno.
“Throw the bodies in,” the man said. “Ain’t no police gonna bother with what happened here tonight,”
“But Remy, the woman’s still moving. Your Pa he…”
“My Pa is dead, they killed him! And I say throw them in!”
John tried to shout, but only a gurgled grunt came from out of his throat. “Mama…” It was one of the few words he knew. He stared at the man giving the orders, burning his face into memory. Then, he heard a rustling before him.
“Hey he’s here! The devil boy is here!”
John ran. This time, he didn’t stop. He ran when the men fired their guns at him, and he ran when they set fire all around him. John never stopped running.

One day he promised, they will be the ones doing the running.

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Mark of Child: Part 3

Mark of Child: Part 3

When Leticia opens the door to her place, everybody’s senses were immediately assaulted by the sweet smell of incense burning in her apartment.

“Just a old habit,” Leticia says, as she takes off her shoes and enters the dimly-lit unit. She snuffs out the powdery sticks burning away in a jar on the dining table. “My grandfather use to light these around the house every night, to keep away bad spirits.”

“I don’t think bad spirits in America would know that,” Matthew jokes as he and the girls cringe at the sickly sweet odor. Taking Leticia’s lead, they remove their footwear and place them into the shoe stand before following her into the house.

Taking in the interior, they can see Leticia’s heritage and beliefs marking their presence in every corner of the apartment. On the floor next to the door, there is a little altar with an offering of fruit in front of it. Next to it, a strange statue of a deity or humanoid creature stands guard over the door. It looks like a miniature big-headed human with claws drawn in a threatening stance.

Looking into the living room, two wooden carvings are on the walls, one is shaped crudely like the head of a tiger, while the other resembled a boar with tusks. They hang on either side of a larger altar, table-sized this time, ladened with offerings of meats, fruits and more incense. From the door, Joan can see an intricate octagonal box in the centre, and in front of everything lays a thickly bound journal.

“Is that the book,” Joan asks, walking up to touch it. Her hands are almost on it when Leticia suddenly snaps, “Don’t!”

Joan pulls her hands back immediately. Flushing, she quickly offers her apologies. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“That’s my grandfather’s altar,” Leticia explains, “We don’t remove anything from it until we ask him for permission. That’s how we show our respect to the dead.”

“Sorry,” Joan mumbles as she walks back to stand beside her scowling sister.

“Try not to touch anything else will ya.”

“Take a seat, I need to make ready first before I can get the book,” Leticia says, scrubbing her hands at the kitchen sink before toweling them dry.

“Do what?” Penny asks as the three of them settles down onto the sofa.

“Like I said, I need to ask for permission.”

An awkward silence fills the room as Leticia moves in front of the altar and starts chanting in another tongue.

Penny and Joan looks over at Matthew who only shrugs his shoulders. “Don’t look at me,” he whispers, “This is the first time she’s invited me over.”

The three of them look on with bated breath, listening as Leticia’s chanting grows louder. Her body quivers, swaying from side to side as she enters into a trance-like state before their eyes. Joan, frightened by the ominous chanting, squeezes herself next to Penny and holds on to her tightly.

Matthew rises from his seat, but Penny puts a firm hand on him and indicates with her eyes that he should sit down and let this play out. Minutes pass as the pungent cloy in the air starts to make everyone uncomfortable.

Joan breaks into a cold sweat as her eyes fixate on the swaying motion of Leticia, unable to blink or turn away. She is all but ready to bolt, when finally, the chanting stops. The air seems to clear as everyone starts to relax again, breathing easier.

“Leticia?” Penny asks in a soft voice.

The still body of Leticia does not respond. Her eyes, still closed, start to twitch. Suddenly, she speaks again, in the same language she used earlier. Not in a sing-song chant, but in conversation. From her speech, it is evident that Leticia is speaking to someone or something in this room. Questions, answers, a few replies that sound like yes, then she starts to giggle out loud.

A creeping chill went down Joan’s back. The ritual happening before her is just too too much for her young mind to take. “That’s it, I’m out,” she says, making for the door.

Penny hisses at her and tells her to sit down, “You wanted this remember?”

“I don’t care anymore,” Joan replies, acting impulsive out of fear. She runs to the door and pulls it open, ready to run home if need be.

“Where are you going Joan? Grandfather says yes.”

The hairs on Joan’s back starts to stand. Leticia is speaking to her directly. Turning around, she sees a smiling Leticia, book in hand, back to her normal self. “Oh my god Leticia, I’m so sorry, but you scared the shit out of me!” Joan exclaims, awash with relief and laughing at her own cowardly behavior.

“Not to worry Joan, I should have warned you all before I started,” Leticia says with a good-natured smile. “Believe me, I feel the same way when I hear some Christians shouting when they pray.”

“Joan, get back in here!” Penny snaps, staring crossly at her sister for making yet another scene.

“Relax Penny, it’s all cool,” Matthew says, turning to smile at Joan as he intercedes on her behalf. Sheepishly, she returns to her spot as the rest gathers around the living room table.

With everyone in place, Leticia kneels down onto the carpeted flooring in front of the sofa, and places her grandfather’s book in front of them. “I must warn you, this is a book about magic, life and death. Inside, you will find many disturbing things. Some will be familiar, like the drawing of body parts. Others will be alien to you. My advice is to focus only on what you need, and forget the rest of what you see.”

Matthew and Penny nod in unison, turning to look at Joan. Still feeling a little shaken, Joan swallows hard before nodding her head, remembering full well that she is the one who asked for this in the first place.

She stares at the book, and its simple unmarked binding that laid forbidden just moments ago. Now, it’s about to spill its secrets on a group of unsuspecting youths. Somewhere inside its worn pages, is a centuries-old formula that could turn back the clock and repair the damage that Joan had inflicted on herself. All they need to do now, is find it.

Leticia opens the cover of the books, flipping delicately through its thick fibrous pages. The book is written in the language of her people, a deviation of modern Malay that has been adopted widely by the city folk. Words start in one handwriting, and end in another, as countless generations of bomohs add to its collective knowledge.

Each page is filled with notes and little corrections as Leticia scans through them, trying to make sense of the scribbles. But for the rest, it is the pictures accompanying the words that give them pause.

Crudely inked drawings, some no more than scratches, depict creatures and demons in various forms. Bats, tigers, boars, and even the insects of the earth all seem to play a part in inspiring the drawings within.

But these are only the first. As Leticia’s hand flies through the pages, the monsters take on human forms. A head here, a hand there, twisted beings fill entire pages in morbid detail. Some are shambling beings with guts turned inside out, others have additional limbs extending from their rears. Naked horrors, with neither mouth nor genitals jump from the pages, filling their heads with grotesque images of sexless beings crawling silently towards them.

“Ah here we are, childbirth. This is the section. Keep an eye out for a symbol that looks like the the word Janin somewhere in here. J-A-N-I-N. It stands for fetus, which is what we are looking for.”

Why did she have to mention that, Joan shudders at the imagery of floating fetuses. She closes her eyes and sees them, little unformed babies trapped in translucent wombs red with blood. They stare at her with black unblinking eyes, waving webbed hands and crying out for her.

“Please… can we just stop for a moment, please… let me… let me… Oh god I can’t breathe.”

End of Part 3

<– Part 1   <– Part 2

Should be pretty obvious where I’m going with this now. Still I’m having a lot of fun with this story and have a lot more I want to write. Apologies about some quirks with the PoV of the story. I’ll get them sorted out next time. I still haven’t figured out whether I want to go from Joan purely, or try some other approach. 

Mark of Child: Part 2

Mark of Child: Part 2

An hour later, the girls arrives outside the dorm room of one Matthew Banks, a struggling student doing his graduate thesis in tribal cultures at the local university.

“Now, just leave the talking to me. If there’s anyone who can tell us about mystic magic, it’ll be him,” Penny says, petting her hair and adjusting her blouse to make sure nothing is out of place.

“He studies black magic?” Joan asks with fascinated eyes.

“No, he studies the people who studies black magic. He mentioned it… at some gathering. ”

“How did you know him?”

Penny stares at Joan with a look that says mind your own business, before knocking on the door.

From inside the room, came a loud tumbling noise and the creak of the wooden floor boards underneath. Whispers emanate from the room as the girls can clearly hear the voice of a man and woman coming from inside.

From the corner of her eye, Joan could see Penny’s expression, going from one of shock only moments earlier, to one of black hatred.

The door opens,  and a wide-eyed handsome blonde with a head of bed hair opens the door, pulling on a shirt. “Penny, what are you doing here?”

Forcing a smile, Penny cut right through the pleasantries. “We need your help Matthew. My sister, Joan, here has some questions which you might be able to help with.” she says, throwing a quick glance behind the man. “Are we interrupting anything?”

Matthew smiles and brings out the girl hiding behind the door. She walks to the door wrapped in the blanket. “This is Leticia, she’s an exchange student from South East Asia.”

“Hi,” says the attractive dark-skinned Asian girl clearly used to American sensibilities and freedom by now. Still she hides herself behind Matthew. Pleasantries and introductions are made once again as a visibly black-faced Penny shakes the hand of Leticia.

Oblivious, Matthew turns to Joan. “So which part of tribal culture are you interested in?” he asks, happy to meet a fellow enthusiast.

“Not exactly culture,” Joan answers, uncomfortable in discussing this in the open. “I’m interested in finding out more about their medicine. Is there somewhere we can go to discuss this somewhere more quiet?”

“Sure, there’s a cafe nearby, give us one sec and we can all go together.”

Joan wanted to tell him that they wish to speak with him privately. But the doors closes before she can act. The couple get dressed behind closed doors, while Joan watches a brooding Penny pace the floor outside. In minutes, everyone is ready and they made their way to the cafe.

Sitting down, Leticia volunteers to get the drinks while the three of them talk, relieving the girls the pressure of having to get rid of her.

“So, tribal medicine?” Matthew begins, getting things rolling.“Which cultures would you like to start with. African, Aborigines, American Indians?”

Joan looks at Penny, who decides to speak on her behalf of her sister. “Matthew listen, I’m going to be very direct here. We’re trying to find out if there alternative methods that these woman… you know, control the number of children they have.”

Matthew blinks, staying silent for a moment. He’s clearly not prepared for such a query. “Wow, that’s a very specific question, umm yes I’ve.. hmm.. I’ve read about such primitive birth control methods before. I could direct you to a few books or research papers if you like…”

“No Matthew, not birth control, I’m talking about abortion here. And were looking for someone someone familiar with such tribal practices in this town. We need his services now,” Penny says as a matter of fact.

Matthew narrows his eyes, “Wait, are you…”

“Look, just help us alright.”

Leticia returns with the drinks. “Hey, what you guys talking about?” she asks, joining in the conversation as she takes the seat beside Matthew.

“Tribal abor…medicine,” he mumbles, racking his brains for an answer to Penny’s query.

“Oh, what about it, maybe I can help,” Leticia says casually, stirring her latte. “My grandfather use to be a medicine man in West Java.”

The girls suddenly perk, Joan especially. After all the luck she’s had today, this is probably the first piece of good news she’s heard all day.

“What do you mean medicine man?” Penny asks suspiciously, unwilling to divulge too much to this man-stealer from halfway around the globe.

Leticia shrugs. He cares for his village, you know. Medicine, rituals, customs, the whole deal. Where I come from, we call him a bomoh, which literally means tribal shaman.”

“Leticia’s family comes from a long line of Javanese chieftains and bomohs,” Matthew adds, holding her hand and smiling at her. “They’re very highly respected by the tribesmen. For the longest time, her ancestors stayed in the jungles of Sumatra before they moved into the city,”

Joan can hardly believe her luck, she casts aside all worries and the doubts of Penny as she proceeds to tell them both the truth. Matthew sits back in his chair and whistles a long note as Joan finishes her tale, while Leticia looks on at her with heartfelt sadness.

“Oh you poor dear! I know how you feel, the same thing happened to my aunt long ago as well. Such things are a death sentence in tribal cultures back then. Woman who get pregnant without a husband are deemed to be evil spirits, and the child in their womb is cursed to be the devil’s child.

“What happens to these women?” Joan asks, expecting more to the tale.

Leticia shrugged, “Where my family comes from, they bury the woman alive. My grandfather once told me that you can still hear them screaming from under the earth for days after that.”

Joan’s face turns a ghastly white. Suddenly, getting screamed at by father and ridiculed by her friends doesn’t seem like so big a deal after all.

“Wait, how do you know all this?” Penny asks, still not entirely trusting of this woman.

“When he was alive, grandfather taught me the ways of the tribe,” Leticia explains, “That is until my father found out and burned everything in my room. He had a big fight with grandfather over this, he doesn’t want any more black magic in the family.”

“Strange, I could have sworn you used a love charm on me,” Matthew jokes, throwing Leticia a cheeky look while Penny fumes in silence.

“Wait, what black magic?” Penny asks, interrupting the lovebirds.

“Never mind that Penny, can we go back to the woman, what did they do if they want to avoid their sentence?” Joan asks, anxious to hear where this is going.

Leticia smiles, “My grandfather had a remedy if these woman came to him before they got caught. Of course, its a secret, the tribal leaders will never stand for such a thing.”

“That’s great!” Joan screams, jumping up in her seat. She could hardly believe her ears. This night seems to be getting better and better. Thank god they had the luck to find Leticia here. Matthew is turning out to be quite a bum.

“But…” Penny cuts in, staring at Joan to calm down, “There’s always a but somewhere inside, am I right Leticia? ”

She nods, “Yes, black magic always comes at a cost, at least that’s what it says in the book.”

“You even have a book on this? Joan asks, getting more and more impress with Leticia by the minute.

“Didn’t your father burn everything?” Penny interjects.

“Yea, well grandfather gave it to me for safekeeping before he died. My family has no idea that it even exists. It’s a strange book, you’ll know what I mean when you see it,” Leticia says, sipping her latte.

Eyes light up across the table. “You have the book here?

“Of course, I can’t leave it with my parents,” Leticia smirks, looking at us like it should be obvious.

Tiny wheels in Joan’s head starts to click into place. She leans forward and looks at Leticia with serious eyes, “Will you help me Leticia?”

“I don’t know Joan,” Matthew says urging caution. “You should let me take a look at it first, maybe…”

“No, I can’t wait. Will you help me?” Joan asks again.

“Joan, Matthew’s right.” Penny says, siding with reason, “We’re dealing with something we don’t understand here.”

Joan turns and glowers at her sister, “Penny, you promised me anything.”

“Yes but…” Penny looks at the hopeful eyes of her sister and knows that this is a lost cause. “Alright fine, whatever. Leticia, you’re sure it’s going to be safe?”

Leticia nods her head. “Our ancestors have been using it for generations, can’t see what’s wrong. Of course, we might need to find the necessary herbs, that might prove tricky.”

“Between the horticultural lab and greenhouses here on campus, the medicinal shops in Chinatown, and the weird gypsy place down on the west end,  I’m sure we’ll find what we need,” Matthew suggests, actually saying something useful for the first time.

“Well! Let’s get started,” Joan says to all the waiting faces, eager to get this over with once and for all. Matthew and Penny look at each other grimly as they reluctantly agree.

“Great, to my apartment then,” Leticia chirps, “Let’s see what grandfather’s book has to say.”

 END PART 2

<– Return to Part 1

Please let me know how this passage is able to capture your attention. I’m trying to build up the thing here, but might be too draggy. But basically, I’ve passed the first pillar here and will be delving into the action proper soon. Also looking for a more readable theme, looking at Mimbo Pro. 

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Mark of Child: Part 1

Mark of Child: Part 1

Joan Eckart is late.

Sitting on the bathroom floor waiting for the test strip to pronounce her sentence, she wonders who it was that got her into this mess. The boys in her life have been a blur lately, moving on faster than she can change her Facebook status.

“Joan, are you ok in there?”

“Just a sec,” she looks closely at the test strip and shakes it vigorously, “Come on, minus baby, minus!”

“We’re going to be late, the show starts in ten.”

Joan ignores that comment. She does not feel like going to the show anymore as the faint symbol of the plus sign lights up. Right now she just wants to sit here and cry.

Gripping the strip tightly, she closes her eyes and begins to pray, willing the little spot on the paper to turn red. “Please God,” she utters under her breath, “I promise to be good from now on, just please!”

Joan opens her eyes again, and stares into the blue abyss of the plus sign shining into her face. Suddenly, everything in her life feels like they have fallen apart. Why me damn it! 

In need of a second opinion, she pulls another pregnancy test kit out from under the sink, ripping out its contents and peeing on the strip again.

“Joan!”

“I’m coming!” she chucks the box and wraps the urine-stained stick in a wad of paper, stuffing it into her pocket. Taking one hard look at her dilapidated self in the mirror, she opens the door and sees Penny waiting for her outside the bathroom with stern eyes and folded arms.

“Spill it, what you doing in there?”

“Leave me alone Penny,” Joan sighs as she brushes past her elder sister.

Penny grabs her by the arm, “Hey! We’re all worried about you.”

“Yea whatever,” Joan replies, shrugging off the hand and storming into her room. Right now, all she wants is be left alone with her thoughts.

Penny comes after her, “Joan, you know you can tell me anything, right?” she says, sensing that something is very wrong.

“I’m fine, just leave me alone.” Joan says, crashing on her bed and burying her face into the sheets.

“Suit yourself, want me to get you dinner?”

Joan shakes her head, laying there silently until Penny walks out of her room.

Alone for now, Joan turns to her computer immediately and begins searching the web for homemade remedies to get rid of pregnancies. The first page of results she gets all claim to be safe herbal methods, but none of the sites look trustworthy.

She puts a hand on her belly and imagines the life growing inside, contemplating her choice between being a child murderer and a single mother. Either way, when her father finds out, he is going to kill her.

Joan needs to talk to someone desperately. In her mind, she thought about Patricia from school. Joan has seen her outside hanging around older men. She’s probably an expert in this subject already, maybe she should confide in her.

Picking up her phone, she dials her number. She and Patricia have never been close actually, but they did work on a school project once. Maybe she’ll remember Joan.

“Hello?” came a husky voice across the line.

“Hey Pat, it’s me Joan, listen I…” Joan hesitates, realizing she hasn’t thought about what she wanted to say.

“Yea?”

“I’m just wondering you know, since you’re so popular with guys and all… You probably know a lot. Do you know anybody who can like.. fix me up?” The last words were uttered very deliberately as Joan starts to think that maybe asking Patricia is not a good idea after all.

“Fix what up? You mean like you’re pregnant?”

“Errmm… Yes,” Joan squeaks into the phone.

Patricia bursts out laughing. “Oh my god, you got yourself knocked up, and you’re calling to me for advice? This is hilarious!”

“Oh, it’s not me, it’s a friend,” Joan lies, trying to cover it up by laughing it off as a joke.

“Save it sister, I don’t know what kind of girl you think I am, but I’m definitely not dumb enough to let a man stick me with a kid. Haven’t you heard of protection?”

“Well I just thought you might know someone…”

“You thought wrong sister, wait till the other girls in school hear about this,” she laughs before hanging up.

Joan drops her head to the desk, feeling her world spiraling out of control now. She sobs uncontrollably as the walls of her room start to close in on her, filling her with a sense of dread and loneliness. What she wouldn’t do to make the thing growing inside her disappear. Right now, she needs a magician, not a doctor.

Penny hears the crying from the outside and rushes into the room. “What is going on Joan,” she asks, distressed by the terrible state of the sister. She goes up to Joan and cradles her head in her bosom, soothing her with gentle words.

“Joan whatever it is, I promise you I’ll help. Just tell me what’s going on.”

Teary-eyed, Joan looks up at Penny, “Swear you won’t tell father?” she says in between sobs.

“I swear, now can you please tell me,” Penny answers, looking at her sister with reassuring eyes.

Joan takes a deep breath. “Penny…”

“Yes?” Joan says, coaxing her sister.

“I’m pregnant.”

Penny stares at her younger sister. “Are you sure about this?” she asks, as calmly as she can given the circumstances.

Joan nods her head, and pulls the tissues out of her pocket. Taking out the crumpled strip, she shows it to her sister.

“Christ,” Penny exclaims, seeing the faded plus sign on the stick. “How Joan? When? Who?”

Joan shakes her head, not knowing the exact answer herself, “Help me Penny please,” she begs, holding on to her sister with both hands.

“What do you want me to do, find you a doctor?” Penny replies at a total loss.

“Help me get rid of it.”

Penny is shocked, “I… I don’t know how Joan, I’ve never done this before.” Her first thought is to tell father, and let the adults handle this the way they usually do.”

“You’re older, you have friends, ask them!” Joan pleads.

“I’ll think of something,” Penny mumbles, left without a choice. “But first things first, I want you to see a doctor.”

Joan shakes her head violently. “No way, this town’s too small for secrets like this. Besides, my friend knows and she’s going to tell everyone.”

“What sort of friend is that?”

“Believe me, if I had known, I wouldn’t have told her.”

“Well, once your teachers find out, it’s over anyway,” Penny shrugs, trying to get Joan to see the light.

Both girls sit around quietly for a moment, as they try to find a solution to the predicament. Joan’s thoughts are still on radical ideas like the herbs she read about online, while Penny focuses on possible alternative treatments.

“You know, there’s more to medicine than doctors and hospitals,” Penny finally says, thinking out loud.

“What do you mean?”

“I’m thinking maybe African witchdoctor, I don’t know for sure, but they practice medicine too, don’t they?” Penny shrugs. “Just a thought, if you don’t like the idea…”

Joan rolled her eyes, but the more she thinks about it, the more she likes how that idea sounds. At least it’s better than trusting advice from random strangers on the internet.

“I don’t know Penny, how do we start looking? I don’t think these guys have sites or anything on the internet.”

Penny stands up. She picks up Joan’s jacket from the floor and throws it at her sister’s face. “By getting your ass into the car.”

“Where are we going?”

Penny smiles, “Like you said, I have friends.”

 END PART 1

Note, this is rewrite using the intro from the Flesh Eater story, but this is now a new work. Objective here is not to go all blood splattering from the get go and try to tell a tale that leads up to it first. 

Part 2 Here

Part 3 Here

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Flesh Eaters: Part 2

Alien Bursting

Flesh Eaters: Part 2

Keeping a hand pressed against the beast in her belly,  she makes a mad dash down the stairs, screaming all the way. The lump in her hand seems to be growing bigger, squirming and sliding around in her gut, ripping through organs and flesh.

The pain is terrible, Joan cringes and tumbles. She can feel it now, the thing inside her, biting and gnawing at her. She cries out in pain, rolling on the floor, clubbing at the thing eating her from the inside. It keeps growing, gorging itself on living meat as Joan feels sharp teeth pulling at her innards.

“Penny!” In a last desperate attempt, she grabs at the grotesque lump extending out of her belly and squeezes it between her palms, attempting to crush it to death.

A jingle of keys and the door opens, “What the hell Joan… What’s going on!”

“Help me!”

Penny panics as she bends overs and tries to hold the thing in Joan’s belly still. “Oh my god, what do you want me to do!”

“Take it out, take it out!” Joan whimpers in between sobs, sweat pouring down her face.

Running into the kitchen, Penny grabs the a steak knife from the drawer and returns to her suffering sister. Clenching the blade between two hands, she holds the tip of the knife to Joan’s belly, trembling as she looks into the eyes of her sister’s ashen face.

“Do it!” Joan wheezes, barely able to raise her voice beyond a whisper now as she starts to fade out of consciousness.

Screwing her eyes shut, Penny looks away and plunges the knife into the grotesque lump, skewering both human and thing with the blade. Joan screams and convulses, still holding on to the lump trashing violently in her hand.

“Joan, hang on!” Penny shouts, staring at the blood and matter gushing from the mess of flesh in front of her. She can see the creature now, alive and still squealing inside the cavity of of sister’s belly. It’s worm-like head rises from the open wound, and bites down on her hand, tearing at her flesh.

Penny screams, stabbing down with her knife again and again, chopping through the monster. Blood splatters everywhere, on her face, in her hair, in between her fingers, but she does not stop. With a sawing motion, she cuts a gory path through flesh and entrails, until the creature squeals its last and finally lies limp.

Penny stops. She throws the knife and rushes beside Joan’s head, trying to shake her sister awake. But Joan lies motionless, with her extended belly has been sliced open. Inside her belly, the beast lies dead.

“Joan, I’m so sorry, wake up… Please wake up,” Penny sob, moving beside her sister to cradle her head.

 

End Part 2

Part 1 here, will upload Part 3 tomorrow. 

Flesh Eaters: Part 1

Flesh Eaters: Part 1

Joan Eckart is late.

Sitting on the bathroom floor waiting for the test strip to pronounce her sentence, she wonders who it was that got her into this mess. The boys in her life have been a blur lately, moving on faster than she can change her Facebook status. .

“Joan, are you ok in there?”

“Just a sec,” Joan looks closely at the test strip and shakes it vigorously, “Come on, minus baby, minus!”

“We’re going to be late, the show starts in ten.”

Joan did not feel like going to the show anymore. She just wants to sit here and cry as the faint symbol of the plus lights up. Why me damn it! I use protection!

In need of a second opinion, she pulls another box out from under the sink and pees on it again.

Joan!”

“I’m coming!” she slips the urine-stained stick between a mass of tissues and stuffs it into her pocket.

Opening the door, she sees a concerned Penny looking at her with stern eyes with folded arms.

“Spill it, what you doing inside, drugs?”

“Leave it Penny,” Joan sighs as she brushes past her step-sister.

Penny grabs her by the hand, “Hey! We’re all worried about you.”

“Yea whatever,” Joan replies, storming back into her room and crashing on her bed. Right now, all she wants is be left alone with her thoughts.

Penny comes in after her, “Are you coming or what?”

“No, I’ve got a headache, leave me alone,” Joan says, burying her face into the sheets, feeling a sudden cramp in her stomach.

“Suit yourself, want me to get you dinner?”

Joan shakes her head again, lying there silently as Penny walks out of the house.

When she was gone, Joan took to her computer immediately and began searching for homemade recipes for abortion. She clicks on the very first result which promises to teach her a safe and herbal method. In her mind, she thought of Patricia in her school. She’s done it before, maybe she should ask her.

She puts a hand on her belly and imagines the life growing inside, contemplating her life  between being a murderer and a single mother. Father will kill her if he finds out about. No, I must end it now. 

No sooner had she ended that thought, she feels a kick in her belly. So soon? Lifting up her blouse-top, she stares at her smooth white skin, and the tiny lump thumping vigorously against her from the inside.

Shit! She runs to her window. Outside, she can still see her sister’s car reversing out of the driveway. “Penny!” she screams, but her sister doesn’t answer.

Part 2 Here