Tales From the Swollen Corpse (12 page)

“What do these things want when they come?”

Helen pointed around the room. “You have to understand, this, all these are structures in the plane we now exist. She could tell Bill wasn’t following, “You and I aren’t in a school. We can see it but we are not part of that world. We’re in a wilderness and there are predators here.”

“What are you saying, you said we don’t have to eat, why would
..”

“We don’t, but these things eat. They are born here- a natural part of this place. I am sure of it. You need to be alert at night. Listen for a flapping sound. It’s not like wings but more like the sound of a sheet blowing in the wind. If I hear it I’ll warn you. We have to curl up on the floor, like that corner we were at. If we keep our eyes closed and don’t move they will leave us be. But if you look at them or so much as move a leg, they will take you and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

Bill didn’t want to take this too seriously, but with everything he’d accepted so far he was trying to keep an open mind.

“Curling into a ball and hoping they go away isn’t a very reassuring plan.”

“It works for me Bill and I have been here a long time. “

“You said there were others. What happened to them? Like that guy that was here when you got here?”

Helen looked at the ground.

“John and I spent years here. He became a dear friend. He was young when he died, barely a man, but he was old beyond his living years here.”

Bill noticed affection in Helen’s voice when she mentioned John’s name.

“He said he was part of the first class here, back when it was a normal school. And he had already been here longer when I got here than I’ve been here even to this day. I could tell it had taken its toll. I loved his little heart but I feared for his sanity. And yes Bill, I do believe we can lose it. One day another little boy appeared, but unlike us he was a real little boy, being only seven when he died. John and I looked after him. He became like our own son, but the nights were too much for him.”

Helen began to cry. Bill tried to touch her to comfort her but she pushed his hand away and continued.

”One night we couldn’t keep him calm anymore and he tried to run while they were standing over us. We heard…oh God Jacob, my Jacob.”

Helen’s sobs overpowered her and she could no longer talk. She still motioned for Bill to leave her be, regaining composure after a few minutes.

“That was the end for John as well. When the next day’s class went to recess he followed them. I watched him disintegrate in the sun just out this window here. John turned to dust and blew away before my eyes. I have thought many times about taking that walk into the sunlight.”

“Why haven’t you?”

Helen looked out at the leaves blowing across the darkening sidewalk.

“Fear, fear of the unknown, it’s awful when you think about it. You would think oblivion wouldn’t be so scary when you’re already dead.”

“Do you think that’s it then?
After this- oblivion?”

Helen looked back at
Bill,
he seemed very concerned with her thoughts on the matter.

“I don’t know Bill.” She shrugged.

The room had gotten very dark. Bill could tell it had gotten very cold too but it didn’t feel bad, just odd. His new perceptions of the five senses were going to take some getting used to. They took seats back on the floor, talking through the night. Every so often Helen would stop and ask him to be quiet so she could listen. Nothing came of it but twice Bill thought he heard something that was more than the wind rustling through the trees outside. Helen warned him not to look out the window at night and he heeded her advice.

Bill spent the early morning lying on the floor, watching the darkness fade and the first rays of the morning sun materialize and grow. Lying there, he thought about his family. Anxiety was building over the possibility of never seeing them again and the idea of spending years, or longer, in the classroom. He wondered if ghosts really could lose their sanity and how Helen was holding on to it, or even if she was.

“You need to get up; the kids will be here soon.”

It took a minute for Bill to break from his thoughts and remember where he was and what Helen meant.

“Follow me.” Helen said,
then
climbed a tall book case in the back of the room. Bill found it surprisingly easy to do. There was no exertion, he almost felt weightless as he climbed. On their perch they watched the kids arrive for the school day. Some came in packs of twos and threes and others by themselves. Helen seemed to know each and
everyone
by her countless hours of observation, she shared with Bill their names and idiosyncrasies and even her hypothesis of their futures.

They sat there and watched the kids. Bill enjoyed the diversion but soon became restless. He watched two boys pull a diorama of a castle out of a cabinet to work on.

“That looks interesting.” Bill said as he poised to jump down.

“Please be very careful.” Helen warned.

Lifting himself with his palms, he slid his legs forward and jumped. It was an unusual feeling as he went through the air and he misjudged the effort needed. He landed on the side of his foot and rolled to the ground. Helen screamed.

“I am fine, remember I’m already dead?”

But it wasn’t the fall that caused Helen to scream. Bill looked up to see the sole of a sneaker coming down onto his face. There was no pain but an almost unbearably uncomfortable sensation and for a moment he saw only blackness. When the boy moved his foot, Bill’s vision came back. He looked up to see Helen sitting with her face buried in her hands. She raised her head and looked at Bill with tears rolling down her cheeks. Climbing down, she stood by Bill.

“I told you, you have to be careful.”

“It’s ok. I am fine.”

“No Bill you’re not and now I have to look at you! Come with me.” Helen took Bill by his hand and rushed them to the nearest wall.

Bill didn’t like Helen’s tone. It occurred to him her calm and understanding demeanor was the only thing keeping him calm since he found himself here. He wondered what the big deal was; if maybe she wasn’t as sane as he thought. Then he looked at his reflection in a mirror on the wall.

He had seen his reflection in the window earlier. The sight of his child
self looking
back had made him uncomfortable and he only stopped long enough to ponder why ghosts had reflections. He came to the conclusion some spectrum of light must reflect off them or he wouldn’t be able to see Helen. As hard as it was for him to see his surreal image before, his reflection now was even harder to see.

Looking back at him was an almost unrecognizably disfigured face. His nose and most of his skull had been pushed in. Several red cracks ran through the flesh of his face, exposing tissue and bone and in some places even brain. There was no blood, giving him a strange lifeless appearance as if he was made of layers of wax.

Bill turned and ran back to Helen’s safe corner where they had spent most of the day before. There he knelt and wept. Helen knew her new friend wasn’t a child but the image of a boy running off and crying reminded her to be more delicate. She decided to give him some time and space.

She kept an eye on him but when Bill didn’t move from the corner the entire day she got very worried. Helen watched the kids leave. She watched the room yellow with the setting sun. The shadows crept in and expanded. So did the feeling of loneliness, the feeling that had been constant until Bill arrived. She knelt next to Bill and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Bill, its dark, why don’t you come and sit with me for
awhile
?.
”

“I want to see my wife and son. I don’t want to be here anymore.”

“I know you do, come and sit with me, we’ll talk about it.”

Helen tried to sound motherly; her efforts to coerce Bill from the corner were halted by a familiar sound. It was just as she said before, a sound like a flag flapping in the wind.
First just one, then several.
Bill lifted his head and listened.

“What is that?”

“Bill I want you to lay with me ok, like we talked about. Lay with me and close your eyes until I say it’s ok.”

Bill did as he was told. He couldn’t face her and laid with his back to her. Helen tried to get Bill to turn around and whispered it was ok. But time was short so instead of fighting about it she draped an arm around him and held him close. Helen then closed her eyes tight and reminded him to do the same.

The flapping became very loud and intense. It seemed to come from all around the outside of the building. Laying there in Helen’s embrace, Bill wondered how long this would go on for. He tried to think of his family which only seemed to make the dread worse. His terror reached its limits when in his thoughts the image of his own reflection appeared.

Suddenly the flapping stopped. Then complete silence, not even the ever present buzz of the outside overhang lights, penetrated the room. It stayed that way for several minutes until Bill heard a tiny creak. He opened his eyes and saw the source of the sound. Looking across the room under tables and chairs he could see the front door was wide open.

An idea fuelled by panic entered his thoughts. He could make it home before sunup. His family couldn’t see his awful appearance; at least he could be there, not in this horrible prison.

“Do you think they’re gone?” Bill whispered.

“I don’t know, stay quiet.” Helen responded gently in his ear.

Before she could respond Bill rolled away and stood.

“I can’t stay here, I have to go home. I have to try.”

“Don’t Bill, please come back, please Bill.” She wanted him to stop with every ounce of her being but the fear was still too strong, it allowed her no more than to whisper the words.

A tear rolled down her cheek and bridged the micro gap between her face and the floor. She watched under the chairs as Bill’s little feet ran. They made it almost to the door before being lifted up out of sight. A loud screech rang out in the darkness. Helen closed her eyes tight and listened for what she knew would come next; Bill’s screams. His screams lasted until just before dawn, then all was quiet again.

With dawn, the autumn sun rose and pushed the darkness back for another day. Kids arrived for school while the trees dropped the last of their leaves. All the while, not a child or parent could see the face of the lonely little girl staring at them from the classroom window.

The last part, of the day on the water, was Shawn’s favorite. The lowering sun turned the clouds above hues of pink and purple. The shore before him was alive with families and friends enjoying their newly started bonfires. The campfire smells mixed with the briny sea breeze. Shawn hoped for just one more wave, a long one to ride to shore as he gazed at the setting sun. Standing on top of the water was a feeling he never got used to and craved like a drug addict. At that moment, he felt more than human.

Shawn got his ride at that last part of the sunset. Most people do not notice but at some point of dusk it quits feeling like the day is fading and starts feeling like the night is darkening. As he was taking his last ride, he thought he saw two dark shapes pass below his board going towards shore. Shawn shook it off, thinking it was just the lingering light playing tricks.

On the beach, he looked back and took in the sights and sounds of the crashing waves. Rinsing himself and his board off, he changed out of his wetsuit. Once back in his t-shirt and shorts, he stashed his board in his pickup and walked towards the fire pit. At the pit was some of the usual gang he always hung out with. A few people were already there and he recognized all the faces except two.

John was there, he was always there. He was more or less the patriarch of the group, an older guy and a fixture at the beach. When the day on the water ended, John was there at the fire pit: BBQ started, cooler of beer ready, and beach chairs laid out around the fire.

It didn’t surprise Shawn to see new faces at the nightly BBQ. John was quite an outgoing guy and if you indulged him in conversation out on the water, he was sure to invite you to the BBQ. What did surprise him was how strikingly beautiful the two new additions were. The two women looked to be in their early twenties, one blonde and one brunette. It was the brunette that really caught Shawn’s eye. She was standing over by the folding table talking to John (more like listening to him). She glanced at Shawn, giving him a little smile. Shawn looked at the ground as he walked to the cooler; she made him feel like a shy school boy.

With beer in hand, he made his way to an empty chair by the fire. The
couple in the group, Rod and Jess, were
there. Shawn carried on conversation with Rod while trying to take unnoticed glimpses at the new girl. She was more than beautiful; she had a presence and by looking around, he could tell that everyone felt it. The other girl had it too but it didn’t hold any power over Shawn like her friend. The other girl had taken a liking to Allen, the pretty boy of the group. Shawn knew Allen; he gave it five minutes before the two went for a walk.

His prediction came true about five minutes later. Allen and the girl walked far enough that no one noticed the sound of flesh being torn from his bones as she fed.