The World Undone

The following stories are two different parts to an idea for a book I have been working on where evil is slowly becoming more prevalent in our world:

It was a bright day in the city of Poughkeepsie.

The sky was bright and blue for the first time in months.  The grass was green and the trees were greener; it was the kind of day you described when you talked about your first kiss.

The grill was burning nicely.  Charcoal can be difficult, but hot damn did it pay off in the end.  Burgers never tasted so damned good.

Todd flipped a burger.  The trick was not to flip too much. Upsets the meat and bla bla bla.  Truth be told he never payed attention to such bullshit.  What made a good burger was a good cook; pretty much like anything in life.  Let those assholes that thought they knew the secret to grilling was the secret to life, he'd just stick to the basics.

This week had been good.  His recent sexual-harassment lawsuit that he had been fighting tooth and nail for had finally paid off.  True it was a total farce; giving any whore half a chance to make some quick money by enticing a fellow employee and then suing was always a coin toss, but at times it struck gold.  This one had been especially tough and especially worth it in the end.  The firm was proud.

Life was going great.

Todd watched his two kids playing in the yard around the pool.  Kailey and Kyle, his greatest accomplishments.  Kailey was six and Kyle was five; Irish twins.  At the time he  and Shelly were afraid that they wouldn't be able to support two children so close in age, but now they were well on their way to having a great college fund for the both of them.

Shelly.  She was the love of his life from the word go.  It wasn't a Disney relationship; she barely gave him the time of day when they first met, and there certainly weren't any fireworks when they first kissed, but she was his night and day.

Todd flipped another burger.

She was wearing one of her summer dresses.  It was always nice to see her playing the part of the house wife.  When they first had met she had been known as quiet the wild-cat; but who didn't have their wild side?

Todd pressed down hard on a paddy.  The grease rolled into the coals causing a small flame to ignite.

Still it was hard to dismiss the difficult times they had endured at the beginning of their relationship.  He was conservative and she was a flirt (to say the least), but she made him extremely happy.  They had their differences, but they still seemed to always end up wanting to be together.  It was the love-hate relationship at it's best.

He looked at her in her beautiful dress with her dark hair and fair complexion.  There were times he thought she was so beautiful that he might die.  But lately, he started to wonder what she might look like, without her skin.  It would be an easy thing to find out; a sharp knife and an hour or so in a secluded room and he would have his answer.  Something to knock her out might be in order, but not necessarily required.  It would probably be as easy as skinning a deer, even with her kicking and screaming.  Maybe even easier.

Todd took the paddies off the grill and put one last one on.

This has been a question he had been wondering about for weeks now.  It was probably time to find out the answer.  Maybe then he would be able to sleep.

Todd flipped the burger once and took it off the grill.

He wanted his meal bleeding.


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I woke up to my alarm going off at six a.m.  It was one of those mornings where you wake up, take a deep breath, and think shit, I'm still alive.  It's been like that for a while now.  People ask if I'll make it, and I ask them do I have a choice?

I hit the alarm clock and just laid there.  Staring up at the ceiling I can see the water damaged caused by the leaky roof.  It's a daily reminder of just how much of a shithole my apartment is.  Life could be worse, but it sure as he'll could be a lot better.

I sat up and put my feet on the ground, hard.  Still not used to my mattress being directly on the ground.  It's inconvenient and uncomfortable, but lately I just can't trust the space under my bed, not even enough to have a box spring.  Dark spaces are dangerous.

The sun is shining through the windows so brightly you can barely even tell that the ceiling light is still on.  Most people might laugh at a grown man that has to have a light on while they sleep, but then again most people don't have to deal with the shit in my life, so fuck em.  If keeping a light on at night stops me from waking up screaming with scratches all over my body then so be it.  I don't question these things, I just put up with them.

I stood up and stumbled into the bathroom.  I don't bother with the light switch because the light is on in here too.  Why would I turn off a light in a room with no windows?  That's practically suicide.  As I took a piss I looked at the space on the walls where my mirrors used to be.  Mirrors are dangerous too; you never know what you might see in one.  I don't know if those things are always there or if the mirror let's them come into existence, but I'm not going to be the guy to find out.  The compact mirror in the top right drawer works just fine for making sure I don't look like a total slob.  Like it matters anyway.  I still have no idea why I get up this early, I'm a fucking bartender.  Like they say, sleep when yer dead.

I walked over to the closet and pulled out my outfit for the day.  Jeans and a button shirt.    It satisfies the uniform requirements for my job and isn't bad to wear all day.  This ensures I don't have to come back home until absolutely necessary.  As I turned to walk towards the door I saw it.  It was only a faint shadow in the corner of my eye, but there is no mistaking it.  I could feel it looking at me, almost hear it breathing.  I was paralyzed in fear.  I had no idea what to do.  Moving might provoke it, but staying still doesn't get me any closer to safety.

I saw movement.  Something subtle.  Maybe a hand or jaw.  It's hard to tell.  This isn't something you look directly at.  Finally panic overtook me and I bolted for the door.  I could hear movement behind me as I ran.  The steps to the door are painstakingly long.  Looking back at that ten seconds I'd swear hours went by.

Five steps to the door I felt something rip at the back of my shirt.  At two steps I heard it take in a breath.  In one fluid motion I opened the door and slammed it behind me just in time to hear a thump against the door and a high scream.  I was almost in tears as I put my back against the door and slid to the ground.  I don't know much about it, but I know it won't come into the open, especially with the sun up.  Gasping for air I begin to regain my composure.  It occurred to me then that maybe I was really going crazy; maybe every time I have one of these attacks it was just extreme paranoia.  These thoughts were short lived as I felt the three rip marks in the back of my shirt.

God help me.