Steven Jenkins - Havok Magazine Page 3
of her eyes swallowed what remained of his soul, and,
a living conflagration that engulfed Mr. Hidimba and
at last, quenched his pain.
STA
BATHOPHOBIA
Andrew Winch
FF The cave floor pushed back against Cyrus’s heaving He blinked into the darkness, and something chest. He felt like he’d been crawling for days, and the shimmered at the edges of his vision. The overwhelming
slimy walls seemed to close in tighter and tighter. But smell wasn’t so rotten in here. More acrid, like the bile there was no going back. Not just because he didn’t
rising up in his own throat. It stung as he allowed his have the space to turn around, but because of what
lungs to expand farther than they had for hours. And
FE was chasing after him.
then the shimmering formed a shape. A blob. The outline He would have stopped, or at least slowed to catch
of something stretched out before him. Bluish-green,
his breath, but the stench came in waves. It wafted
and unfathomably deep.
up the tunnel behind him, as if the earth itself were
An underground lake.
belching up rotten decay. The natives had warned
His sonar readings had been right. His team had
him, calling it, “The belly of the beast,” in their native laughed at his claims of water beneath the desert, but
tongue, claiming that the blind demons living in its
he’d been right. And if he could make it back to the
depths could smell a single drop of blood. But glory
surface and tell the others, he could save hundreds
never came without risk.
with this new information.
Cyrus tried to turn and look back, but a sharp rock
He pressed his feet into the muck, stood up, and
bit at the side of his scalp. The sting flashed through glanced back the way he’d come. Another wave of putrid
his skull, sending will-o-wisps dancing through the
darkness. He couldn’t go back. His muscles ached and
darkness. Despite the searing pain, he relished the
his head swam, but he had to keep moving forward.
A temporary light, and as it faded, he was again left with Across the lake.
complete nothingness before his eyes—and that vile
If only he still had his equipment. His scuba gear.
stink swelling up from somewhere behind.
But there was no time for that now as he stepped to the water’s edge. It was deathly still as he squinted down
into its depths. Faint light shone from somewhere far
below. The light shifted and coiled, drawing him in with
But glory never came
T
a mix of dizziness and intrigue. The water felt impossibly
without risk.
warm against his bare foot. It embraced him. Ripples
spread out away from his body, and he continued in
deeper until the liquid closed in around his neck. His
He inched forward, each movement hindered by
heart thudded against his chest. Against the water. But U protruding stalactites and stalagmites. His wetsuit was he stretched out and started to swim, looking down at in tatters, and ageless muck burned into every cut. His the swirling lights below him as he went.
handcam had died hours ago, and with it his last source Water lapped against the far bank, giving him a
of light, and his last message to his waiting daughter.
ray of hope. He swam harder. Another wave of gut-
The thought forced a curse from his lungs, but the
wrenching air rolled over him, and when he looked back, darkness swallowed it. He crept forward again with
it was as if the light had reached up out of the water
R failing limbs. To his surprise, he was able to reach out a and was crawling into the narrow tunnel behind him.
little farther this time. He stretched his head up higher No, not into it, but out of it. And not crawling, but
and was even able to get his knees under him before
slithering. It was already slipping down into the lake, his shredded back scraped against the tunnel above.
something like a glowing tapeworm as big around as
He crawled faster. Rose up higher. And then the
Cyrus’s head.
ground gave way under his hand. He slid downward, his
E weary heart now picking up speed. The world shifted and he was on his back, and then on his side, rolling.
And then the ground gave way
He cried out, and the sound echoed in all directions.
under his hand.
The ground was softer than expected where he hit the
bottom, and his fingers sank into the muck. He was
out. The tunnel had opened into a cavern of some sort,
Panic gripped his chest. “I’m Cyrus King.” He choked
though he still couldn’t see.
as the warm bile splashed into his mouth. “I’ve survived
every cave on this God-forsaken desert, and I’ll not die from the depths. Hundreds of them. Long and snake-like.
in this one. I can’t.”
Something brushed against his leg, causing him to
scream. The echoes seemed to enliven the creatures.
The viscous liquid roiled and tightened around Cyrus’s
legs and torso. The bone in his thigh snapped. Waves
The overwhelming smell wasn’t
of paralyzing pain as the water around him turned
so rotten in here.
crimson. The demon-worms gulped at it with faceless
mouths. Cyrus’s lungs filled with the fluid and his head went under the surface.
He turned and paddled with the last of his strength.
He blinked. He could see the bottom. It shone
As he did so, the radiance grew. Not from behind him,
brilliantly. And then all was darkness as the undying
but from beneath. The lights writhed as they rose up
depths swallowed its prey.
Andrew Winch is the executive editor for Splickety Publishing Group. When he’s not helping others polish their writing, he’s creating worlds, weaving plots, and solving mysteries of his own.
Check out his weekly adventures at raisingsupergirl.com, follow him on twitter (@andrewjwinch), and like him on facebook (facebook.com/andrewjameswinch).
16
HAVOK OCTOBER, 2018
THE FINAL COUNT
Susan Fabio | susanfabio.wordpress.com
Thirteen… fourteen…
face, hanging like an extreme sports enthusiast from a
Adam lay in bed, counting the baby spiders crawling
silk bungee cord. The spider swayed back and forth—its
out of his ceiling air vent. The miniature creatures
fangs moving up and down—its pedipalps reaching out
scattered, seemingly unaware of which direction to
to caress his cheek.
go. But when the twenty-fifth spider poked its adult-
Too scared to move, Adam stared into the creature’s
sized legs through the vent, a line formed, each spider eight eyes until it ascended into the newly created
scurrying into the correct position.
web that spanned the ceiling from wall-to-wall. Helper
Fearing the invaders might beeline for his bed, the
spiders swung from one corner of the room to the next,
boy bolted for the hall. There, he stood, bare chested, perfecting any gaps in the design.
panting, watching from the doorway as the lead spider
One thought consumed Adam’s mind. I’m dinner.
trekked across the ceiling, around the overhead light
His heart hammered in his chest. He rolled off the
fixture, and into the gap between the top of the closet bed, and tiptoed across the room, his comforter covering door and the adjacent doorjamb.
his head and body.
With each passing minute, the army of arachnids
When he reached the hallway, he quietly shut the
grew… and so did the size of their bodies.
bedroom door.
________________________________
“Mom!”
________________________________
“They came out of the air vent and went into there.”
Adam’s voice wavered; his trembling finger pointed to
Several minutes later, Adam’s mother stood trembling
the paneled closet door.
in the hall, a flyswatter in her right hand and a can of His father stood at the doorway, hairy knuckles
bug spray in her left. “At the count of three, you open resting on the elastic band of his plaid boxers. “How
the door and I’ll run in. When I get to the closet, I want many times do I have to say this? You’re thirteen years you to close the door. And whatever you do, don’t
old now. You can handle wayward spiders.” He removed
come inside.”
his wire-rimmed glasses and kneaded fists into his
He nodded. “You can do this, Mom.” He swallowed
bloodshot eyes.
the lump forming in his throat.
His mother took a deep breath and began to count.
“One …two …”
“Three.” Adam opened the bedroom door. The
With each passing minute, the
hinges squeaked.
army of arachnids grew… and
His mo
ther poked her head inside the room, craning
her neck in all directions. “I see the web,” she whispered,
so did the size of their bodies.
“but no bugs.”
“They’re probably hiding.”
She entered the room, her knees visibly quivering.
“I swear, Dad. There were at least fifty of them.”
When his mother reached the closet, Adam took a
His father repositioned his glasses on his nose and
deep breath and closed the bedroom door as instructed.
opened the closet. He peered inside, turning his head left, Screaming ensued shortly after, followed by loud
then right. “No bugs.” He sighed and moved strands of
thuds.
his hair over his balding scalp. “Go back to bed, Adam, and don’t you even think about waking me up again.”
“Yes, sir.”
A warm lump festered beneath
Adam crawled under the sheets, tucking the edges
the usually smooth skin.
tight around his bony legs. There was no sign of the
spiders, and his wide eyes soon gave way to the heaviness of the late hour.
________________________________
And then there was no sound at all.
Adam collapsed in the hall, tears cascading down
At three o’clock in the morning, Adam awoke from
his cheeks. He dug his fingernails into the raised welt a not-so-peaceful slumber with an incessant urge to
upon his forehead, the itching growing in intensity.
scratch. With eyelids still closed, he brought his hand When he felt liquid on his fingertips, he knew he’d
up to his forehead. A warm lump festered beneath the
scratched too hard.
usually smooth skin.
He ran to the bathroom and stared into the mirror.
He opened his eyes and goosebumps flooded his
Fifteen …sixteeen …
arms and legs, prickling into place.
The newborn spiders scattered across Adam’s face,
A foot-wide black spider dangled inches from his
searching for a new place to hide.
HAVOK OCTOBER, 2018
17
VANESSA
P James Norris | linkedin.com/in/pjamesnorris
The drapes parted as wind gusted into the room.
tweed waistcoat and impeccably tailored trousers, a
Somewhere in the house, a door slammed. He jumped,
fashionable walking stick held negligently in Its left
and then cursed himself a fool. He tried to make light
hand. It had the shape and dress of a man in his early
of his startled reaction, but it fell flat even to his ear.
middle years, but no man’s irises could be such a bright He had good reason for alarm, even though he could
green in the dim light of the waning moon.
not articulate the reason, even to himself.
Eyes focused with such intensity on her.
Outside, the wind howled through the leaves and
At first, It simply stood in their path, not ten feet
branches of the old oak. It was a sound he felt sure
before them. Perhaps the slight smile was on its face
contained meaning, import. But he was incapable of
when it appeared—he could not recall.
deciphering it.
But he felt the puissance of that smile just as she
One of the shutters broke loose and banged against
did—he could feel her shiver as her arm rested across
the wall.
his forearm. With the most casual, understated wave of
He felt he should go lock it down, but he could not
Its right hand It invited—no, summoned her.
leave the room in which he cowered, afraid tonight she
Her arm dropped from his as though she had no
would come.
control over it. When she took her first step toward It, Come for him.
he called her name, took hold of her arm, turned her
On some visceral level, he knew that one night she
ever so slightly against her will or compulsion toward
would. And the wind seemed to say to him, Tonight.
him. Even through her black corset, he could see that
Tonight is the night.
her bosom heaved with excited breath.
He had always known it would be after the sun had
But she pulled away from him, and took another
set. Her skin, so naturally pale in the light of the day, step. He called her name, weakly, but she continued
would look deliberately made-up during the night. Her
toward It. He found he could not move; his feet, his
chosen dress of black, morbid during the day, would,
legs, even his arms felt frozen in place. But his chest at night, draw attention to her fine features and jet-likewise heaved, and he knew, with a terrible certainty, black hair.
that it was with a very different emotion, from a very
different primal drive.
A moment later, an eternity later, she was close
On some visceral level, he knew
enough that It could take her outstretched hand. And
that one night she would.
It smiled, exposing impossibly long incisors. Then Its
free arm was around her tiny waist. And Its mouth on
her neck.
And, oh, how well he knew her face. It was a part
Her gasp, an obscene combination of pain and
of him he would never lose. The almond-shaped eyes,
ecstasy, freed him from his immobility. He surged
the high cheekbones, and the lips that seemed to pout
forward, calling her name. But a simple brief glance from even when she smiled. How many nights had he wept
It froze him, his forward momentum but unresponsive
over losing that face?
legs causing him almost to fall on his face.
But then the dreams had begun, shattering all
peace. His unconscious had exacted a great price for
His unconscious had exacted a
his acts of that night so long ago. It wracked him with a guilt that he knew he did not deserve, yet could not
great price for his acts of that
shirk. He had been powerless to intervene, just as she
had been powerless to resist. Mortal men and women
night so long ago.
were simply no match for …
Even now, at the greatest height of his fear, he
To this day, he did not know if It had mesmerized
could not bring himself to believe what had happened.
him as It had clearly mesmerized her. Or if he had been Perhaps that was Its greatest advantage: the intellectual frozen in place by fear. But he had known with a terrible belief that such a being should have no place in God’s
certainty that if It had exerted even the slightest fraction creation. Such an irrefutable belief made it all the more of Its potency against him, his existence would have
seductive.
been snuffed out as though he were a candle in a gale.
And Its very being had radiated unnatural might.
Even though he knew this to be true, he had spent
They had both known of Its presence long before
the time since in a fit of self-flagellation. He brooked it made Itself apparent to their eyes. And when It had
himself no forgiveness, no respite from self-repudiation.
appeared, It had appealed and repulsed at the same time.
And tonight she was coming to make him pay the price
Its attire was as immaculate as it was elegant and
of his inadequacy.
expensive: the latest moleskin tophat, silk shirt under Just as they had both sensed Its presence long before
18
HAVOK OCTOBER, 2018
they actually saw It, he felt her presence.
hope was in vain.
And when he heard the door behind him open, and
she all but whispered his name, he turned to face her.
Its attire was as immaculate as
She was so beautiful. Even though her blue eyes