Infinity House (7 page)

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Authors: Shane McKenzie

BOOK: Infinity House
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His breath was nearly cut off completely, and out of desperation, he fired two more shots. The gun clicked empty and he dropped it, shoved his way deeper. The sound of the old man’s laughter and the children’s singing was pinched off, and the surrounding flesh tightened. Mike’s hand was outstretched, and through the cloud of panic that took over his thoughts, he felt the breeze on his fingertips. Just a tiny whisper of air, but he felt it.

With a final lunge, and a cry cut off by liquid meat, Mike stumbled onto the front porch and rolled down the steps. James tumbled with him, but he never woke, never even stirred.

Mike retched into the dirt, let the soupy mess slide out of him. With no time to waste, he cradled James in his arms and sprinted toward the street, giving the house one more glance over his shoulder.

Dark and quiet, the house looked abandoned again.

The streets of the Oak were black with shadow and as Mike rushed toward home, he noticed how empty they were.

Just gotta get home, he thought. Call somebody, get help.

Even though he thought calling an ambulance was pointless, he didn’t know what else to do. He would have to try, hope they got there on time.

His legs wobbled under him as he turned onto his street. Blood pumped from his stomach wound, and the throbbing agony twisted his gut, mixed with the overwhelming suffering that filled his body, but he made it to his front door, managed to open it.

Grandmamma’s coughing echoed from her bedroom, and Mike thought about calling out to her for help. James lay on the floor, his shirt soaked in blood. Larvae still roamed his body, dripped from his bullet wound.

Mike clawed his way across the room on his belly, clutched the phone and pressed the cold plastic to his ear. His red and black-stained finger shook as he pressed 9-1-1.

It rang. He whimpered.

Grandmamma’s door creaked open. “Boys?”

The phone kept ringing. Come on, Mike thought. Pick up the fuckin’ phone!

“Are my boys home?” She shuffled out of the darkness and entered the living room. Her robe lay in a pile behind her and with each step, her sagging nude body jiggled.

And Mike saw the maggots boiling over her, dripping to the floor like living rain drops.

The phone clicked and a penetrating buzzzz swam into Mike’s ear.

He threw the phone and wept as he backed away from the approaching hag.

She pointed at him. “You can’t escape us. You’re home now.”

“No. No!” But when Mike turned toward the door, he froze. He saw himself standing there.

The hooded Mexican held his loaded backpack and pointed his shotgun at James. “My treat.”

Then the shotgun blew a hole in James’s chest. The boy left his feet as he flew backward and landed hard on his back. Mike watched himself rush toward the shooter, but wasn’t fast enough. He took the second blast in the middle of the face, and the Mexican was out the door before Mike’s body fell over.

“What… what…?”

“You’re home now,” Grandmamma said. As she shuffled toward him, it looked like she was melting, flesh sloughing off in wiggling drips. She tipped over, hit the ground, and a sea of maggots poured into the room, covered the floor.

And with only a blink of his eye, Mike found himself back in the living room of Infinity House. Flies suckled his face and buzzed into his ears.

The old man floated in the air on his iridescent cloud, arms outstretched like a maniac Christ, mouth spread wide in a sinister grin. His children, impossible to count, sur-rounded him, some still on the stairs. The fly-faced creatures gurgled phlegmy, chattery gibberish.

“We’ll never age, we’ll never die, we’ll never see our mothers.”

It came from behind Mike and he turned to find James sitting up, smiling, his eyes wide open and jet black. Maggots wiggled from his tear ducts, nostrils, and mouth.

Mike couldn’t move, couldn’t fight anymore.

James climbed to his feet, faced Mike with a hideous grin that split his face in half.

“You are part of Infinity House, Mike,” the old man said. “And you’ll never leave.” He glided toward James, embraced him, held him gently by the chin, and ran his palm over the boy’s head.

Mike wanted the pain to stop, wanted to slip peacefully into death. But I’m already dead, he thought. And this is hell.

A special hell just for the children of the Oak. You didn’t get him out soon enough, Mike. It’s all your fault.

“Time is ever rotting, and the flies and maggots will devour each moment as it passes.” The old man leaned over and kissed James on the lips, smiled. James returned the smile and stepped toward Mike with open arms.

As his brother embraced him, Mike could only hug back. James felt bigger, and as Mike looked around, he realized all the children had grown; the old man loomed over them. Maggots squirmed between the brothers, and just before darkness took Mike, James whispered into his ear, sweet and tickling.

“We’re home now.”

 

 

 

And
then he was awake. Came rushing back to consciousness with a violent start. He was disoriented… lost for a moment.

Was it a dream, he thought. A nightmare? Please God let it be a nightmare.

Yes, Mike. A nightmare. But you’ll never wake up.

It was in that instant that he smelled the rot. Heard the flies. Felt the maggots inside him. He sat in a room… a square bedroom. Green army men, the same kind he used to play with when he was a kid, littered the floor, left almost no room to walk.

“What’s going on…” He slapped a hand to his mouth. It wasn’t his voice, but a child’s that came out, squeaky and prepubescent.

He raised his hands to eye-level. Small and almost hairless, but bulging with maggots that dove in and out of his child flesh.

Then the bedroom door creaked open.

“Hello, child.”

“No… stay away!” Mike tried to run, but there was nowhere to go. The sharp edges and points of the army men lodged into the padding of his feet, but he felt no pain. He only felt the maggots thrashing within him.

Running to the corner, he hugged his knees and rocked himself. He wept wiggling fleshy tears.

The old man unstrapped his suspenders and let them dangle at his sides. Shapes writhed from inside of his bulbous belly as he licked the front of his teeth and smiled down at Mike. “I love the little kiddies.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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