Blackened Spiral Down (2 page)

              “What the hell?” Richard cried out, his voice raising an octave.  The pain was intense.

              Jimmy cracked his eyes open just a little bit and could see two arms raising up from the broken television.  They were large muscular arms covered with spots.  The nightlight near his door cast a dim glow, but he knew what was happening.

              “Jimmy!  Richard!  Open this door now!” his mother screamed on the other side of the door, her fists pounding with urgency.  The door would not budge.  Tears were streaming down her trembling countenance.

              Richard began to cry out as the sharp claws dug into his skin, pulling him down to the floor, as the man with spots crawled out of the shattered screen.  His body was large, somewhere between muscular and fat, and his skin had a blood-red hue.  He was covered in crusted-over black spots of various sizes.  They covered every part of him, and his eyes glowed with evil green, surrounding black pupils inside.  His head was large and bald, covered with spots like the rest of his body.  His teeth were sharp and now gnashing at the flesh of his stepfather, who was screaming and flailing around on the floor like a rag doll in the grasp of the man with spots.

              Jimmy found himself almost taken out of the scene, as though the screams of Richard and his mother were coming from a distant place – far away from here.  The man with spots was making low growling noises as he tore Richard into pieces, blood splattering all over the walls, floor, and ceiling.  Jimmy wasn’t afraid.  He knew the man with spots was doing just what he promised he would do.  He was tearing Richard into little tiny pieces.

4

              When the sun came up that next morning, Jimmy pulled the sheet down from his face, afraid at what he was going to see.  The act that had taken place at the foot of his bed had been the most violent thing he had ever witnessed.  The screaming coupled with the sound of the man with spots eating his tormented stepfather were going to stay with him for a while.

              As the sunlight poured into his bedroom window, Jimmy saw the television back in its usual place and unbroken.  There was no blood anywhere to be found on the walls, floor, or ceiling like it had been only a few hours before.  His bedroom door was open, and there were no signs of the tremendous pounding that his mother was exerting during the struggle.  As he climbed out of bed, he couldn’t help but wonder if the whole thing had just been a strange dream. Was it another nightmare to add to the long list of scary dreams he had endured?

              His heart raced as he walked around to the foot of his bed, where he had dreamed Richard encountered the man with spots.  On the floor in a neat pile were tiny pieces of plaid fabric – the same plaid fabric that made up Richard’s pajamas!  The pieces were dime-sized and neatly piled up on the floor, only a couple feet from the television!  There was no blood or anything else, just the tiny swatches of fabric.

              “Jimmy.  Are you up?  I had the strangest dream last night,” Kim said as she stood in the doorway, yawning.

              Jimmy didn’t say anything.  He was trying to process what had happened.

              “Have you seen Richard?  I figured he would be gone for work by now, but his truck is still in the driveway.”

              That was when Jimmy knew that the man with spots had taken care of Richard just like he promised.  He pushed the pieces of fabric under his bed and ran to his mother, hugging her tightly.  It would be OK now.

Unfit For Human Occupancy

1

Dan Taylor approached the condemned house at 1312 E. Cypress Street with caution. It was easy to distinguish from the rest with boarded-up windows, an overgrown front yard, and the sign nailed to the peeling front door, which read, “unfit for human occupancy”. In the stifling heat of a mid-July day, the gnats were attacking his sweaty face while he contemplated what would be the easiest way to gain access inside.

Dan didn't have a very good feeling about this. It was something he had to do for his new job with Banner McBride, an engineering company based in Decatur, Illinois. They had other offices throughout the Midwest. He was hired to do an engineering study of the structure before demolition. The City of Decatur hired his company to do this type of inspection all over town. He wasn't an engineer but with training, he was able to do the necessary field work that one of the engineers back at the office could sign off on. The real engineers sat back in the air conditioned office while the field grunts got to wade through the filth of it all.

Dan had been laid off for two years after the Firestone plant closed down. He was almost 50, and options were dwindling in this new fast-paced world. His wife got tired of him not working and loafing around the house depressed. She sued him for divorce and left town with some truck driver she had been seeing. Thankfully, they didn't have any kids. His unemployment was about to run out, and the bills were piling up like sandbags bracing for a flood. A neighbor stuck her neck out to get Dan this job, and he was determined to hang in no matter how bad things got. Standing in front of this junk heap that was once called home at 1312 E. Cypress Street, he wondered what could possibly be worse than this.

There were dozens of houses in the Near North Development of Decatur that the City was razing. They had been doing it for years through a federal grant. The City was suffering from the economic downturn that drove several factories out of business. Thousands of workers were fighting for the same minimum wage jobs, and some just gave up and turned to drugs and alcohol. The homeless problem had quadrupled in the past ten years because of it, and these abandoned houses that the City now owned, were a breeding ground for a variety of nefarious activity. Gangs and local degenerates were taking over the neighborhoods.

Dan walked down the driveway to the back of the house. This was the first survey he was doing on his own, and he could feel a lump in his throat. He also couldn't fight off the strange feeling that someone was watching him. He looked nervously over his shoulder but saw no one. Dan clenched his mag light and continued. He carried a small backpack filled with some of the things he needed to do his job, but going into these houses, what Dan really wished he had was a big gun. A really big gun. Maybe a flamethrower!

As he approached the back of the house, the smell of rotting garbage and mold was overwhelming. In the heat, the odor was powerful. A miasma of putrid foulness seemed to be making its way from the back entrance, where the door was completely gone. He learned the hard way to check the back door before spending lots of time trying to break down the front door. Many of them were open already – like this one. He had to duck down to get his large frame through the opening.

Sweat continued to pour down his face.  Dan could feel his polo shirt soaked to his skin. Being overweight didn't help matters. He fought back the gag reflex to vomit as he entered the kitchen. Years of dirty dishes were piled high in a crusted tower, half empty cans of indistinguishable food were scattered on the counters and floor, and rodent droppings were like foul chocolate sprinkles on every possible horizontal surface he could see with the aid of his light. A mix of rot and growing mold got stronger as he made his way inside.

Dan continued into what was the dining room, through a makeshift path that had been cleared between the piles of garbage and various discarded clothes, furniture and more. He could hear water dripping somewhere in the house. To his right, Dan could hear something scurrying in the trash.  His senses were at the point of exploding. He figured it was a mouse or a rat, but he did his best to not think about it. He knew enough to use rubber bands to cinch his pants at his ankles, to avoid something crawling up his legs. Dan heard more noises like this as he waded through the filth – scratching, moving, and gnawing. Despite the urge for him to take the notebook from his backpack to record the condition of the structure, Dan knew he needed to walk through the entire house to be sure no one else was there. During his training, he was taught to do a quick sweep to verify no other humans were present. As his light illuminated the blackness, Dan couldn't imagine anyone wanting to be inside such a terrible place.

As he entered what appeared to be a living room, Dan could see some daylight from above. There was a hole in the roof, causing the wood floor to be a little spongy beneath his feet. This was likely the source of the dripping sound. He shined his light to the floor to see what condition it was in when suddenly there was a dull creak, then the splintering of wood, and he began to fall through the floor into the dank basement below. Instinctively, he closed his eyes, and the last thing he remembered was how embarrassed he would be to have to call his boss to tell him what happened.

2

Across the street at 1313 E. Cypress Street, Duane Lanham watched the large man with the flashlight walk down the driveway to the back yard of the house. Duane had been staying at 1313 for the past three months, making himself a bed from an old mattress and some clothes he got from a local shelter. He managed to keep himself fed by standing in line every Tuesday and Thursday at the food pantry, taking whatever canned goods he could scrounge up. He had been homeless for the last five years since he lost his job at the glass factory.  His drinking had spiraled out of control – putting him out on the street. Now he resorted to hand-outs to eat and a rat-infested old house that no one wanted for a place to sleep. Things couldn't get much lower. He avoided looking in mirrors these days, because seeing his graying hair, scraggly beard and gaunt face made him look 20 years older than he was.

From his second floor window, he wondered if the big man would make it out of 1312 alive. He knew all too well that something evil lived there, something in the blackness of the crawlspace.

3

Dan wasn't sure if he was dreaming. He remembered hearing the creaking and the splintering sounds, but now he found himself in complete darkness in a damp environment. He must have hit the back of his head hard when he fell, because there was a huge bump there. He carefully felt around for his flashlight or backpack, but neither was there. The cell phone he kept in his back pocket was smashed. He tried to turn it on, but nothing happened. It felt like the screen was shattered. Dan deliberately slowed down his breathing to try and not panic. He had enough emergency action training at Firestone over the years to teach him that freaking out was not the answer in an emergency. He did wonder how long he had been at the house, since it was company policy for field people to call in every hour for safety reasons. Maybe someone would be along to see if he was okay?

He tried to sit up and assess if he had broken any bones in the fall. Aside from a sharp pain in his lower back, Dan didn't think he broke anything. Looking above, he could see a large opening in the floor above, which must have been how he ended up where he was now. He must be in the basement.

Just then, he heard a loud noise coming from the space in front of him. His eyes were slowly adjusting to the darkness, but he still couldn't make out anything. Whatever it was, it was not a mouse or rat. It sounded much larger. Maybe it was a raccoon or opossum? Then it sounded again, and it was definitely bigger than that. His heart began to thump in his chest and despite his measured breathing, he felt panic begin to set in. Whatever this thing in the darkness was, it was moving toward him slowly, as if sizing him up. Dan could hear a low growl that was barely audible but seemed to surround him from all sides! The house felt like it shook slightly.

Then he heard rustling and movement from every direction - scraping sounds on the concrete floor and rustling in the garbage. He thought he heard heavy breathing! Before he could do anything, frozen in fear, Dan felt cold and clammy hands grabbing him from all sides. He flailed and kicked, but it was no use. The hands were getting a hold of him and dragging him across the floor toward the large mass before him. He didn't realize it, but he was being pulled toward the crawlspace that was beneath the original section of the house. Inside that dirt floor space was a dark shadow with eyes that glowed. It had an insatiable appetite, and now it was salivating at its next meal, which was squirming on the floor before it like a helpless mouse in a trap.

Dan was screaming. He was screaming himself hoarse as the hands that were pulling him kept dragging him closer to the crawlspace and closer to whatever was inside there that wanted him. They were like humble servants to the evil entity that now had Dan by the feet. He kept on screaming and thrashing about, but it was no use, as the thing sank its razor sharp teeth into his legs, slowly feasting on the offering.

4

Susan Price got out of her car outside 1312 E. Cypress Street, noting that Dan's truck was still there. She was getting ready to leave the office for lunch when her boss asked if she would check on him. Dan had not called in for two hours, and they were worried. With the heat and Dan's weight, there was concern that maybe he was suffering from a heat injury or needed some medical assistance. Susan felt responsible for the company hiring Dan, despite the skepticism from her boss that he was too old and not in the best physical shape to be doing this type of work. She felt sorry for him after losing his job, then his wife. Susan and her husband, Scott, had been their neighbors for several years and felt like she needed to do something to help.