Travel Bug (48 page)

We moved very rapidly towards the elevator and we were damn near there and then…

“My God,” I said.

“Andrew, don’t look, we’re almost there, son.”

I looked.

He looked.

We couldn’t help looking.

No one half human could help it either.

“I don’t believe it, Harold.”

She had somehow leaped backward and the blind witch who was missing an arm was on top of the bug’s head.

“God,” Harold said.

She…

“This is… Harold… I don’t understand…”

“If you watch this abomination, you will, son.”

She was on top of his head, the part where he looked as if he had been scalped, the part with the giant insect brain exposed. The witch bit into it and ate generous bites; she took several and came back for second helpings all within a matter of seconds.

“No,” I said.

“Yes,” Harold said.

“It can’t be, it’s impossible…”

“Well, Andrew. You’re right, it can’t be and it is impossible but still it is!”

Her eyes, the ones that Harold sliced open and under ordinary circumstances of survival of the fittest would have been rendered useless, had been regenerated. Yes, let’s go with that definition for the sake of argument. Somehow the meat of this prehistoric bug took us and her through time, at least psychologically. Time travel drove her mad or perhaps super mad in her case. Now it made her into a physical and psychological monster. She lost an arm, she lost two eyes. Her wounded body parts were lost but now they were found.

She opened her eyes and they were no longer black or red or like two evil eyes from some B horror film. They were as beautiful and naturally blue as when she was a jealous and sad girl on the apple farm. They were the eyes that were filled with tears over a father who treated her just like the least among his children. Now they were awake. They were awake, alive and angry…

“God,” said Harold.

“Oh, she’s pissed,” I said.

There was a brief moment when she looked at the unnamed species. She did not want the sleeping giant to wake. The witch flew (without a broom) across the cave. She was invigorated. She was renewed. She was two feet in front of us.

“
Happy shall he be, that taketh and dasheth thy little ones against the stones.
”

“What?” I asked it.

“
Behold I will corrupt your seed, and spread dung upon your faces, even the dung of your solemn feasts; and one shall take you away with it.
”

What was it talking about? How it killed my parents?

“You speak in riddles, witch,” Harold said.

“I speak the word of truth,” it answered him.

“You speak lies,” I said. “Jezebel, you are the mother of all lies.”

It paused. It laughed.

“Well, it’s nice to know you can laugh,” Harold said.

“That’s not funny,” I said, laughing.

“You speak of our future generations, don’t you?” Harold asked.

“Yes,” the thing said.

“No more Godley babies, huh?” Harold asked.

The witch snickered, quite a bit. She was not near as much in a hurry to have her way with us now.

“
No more babies… Godley or not
…”

“Why do you delight in tormenting us?” I asked the witch.

She paused.

Harold looked at me.

“I hope that bug eats the rest of you!” I screamed at her so loud, it echoed throughout the cave. What about the book of Judges?” I asked.

She paused.

“… hands that shed innocent blood are detestable to him.”

“Something is not right, Andrew.”

She paused.

“Yes,” I answered him.

“Yes,” he agreed.

“Yes,” said the witch, mockingly.

Was this some kind of standoff? I really wasn’t sure. She starred at us in a way that was almost loving rather than hateful.

“What do you want?” Harold asked.

She smiled.

“Damn you to hell, you witch. What the fuck do you want?” he asked her.

“
A mountain of skulls
……”

“
A mountain of skulls
……”

“
A mountain of skulls
……”

“
A mountain of skulls
……”

“I see,” Harold answered.

“You’ve forgotten about God and goodness. The nature of Christ was to forgive and build humanity up…”

It laughed, albeit uncomfortably.

“He commanded us to love one another…” He paused. “He did not want us to judge…”

She was pissed off now. I thought she would kill Harold for his words.

She was fuming…

“Forgive them, Father for they know not…”

The witch grabbed him and threw him damn near half way across the cave. She had to do not God’s will, not evolution’s will, not the will of the Christian and not even the will of the atheist. You see, all of these people were rational and wanted what was best for humanity. She wanted an end to humanity and life itself. This was not a sister of mercy; this was a sister of nihilism.

“You’re worse than the worst middle eastern terrorist,” I said.

She smiled.

“You believe in nothing and that is why…”

“
I believe in you
…”

“What?”

“
I believe you
…”

“What?”

“
Need to die
……”

She, it started to choke my great grandfather. I grabbed his knife from his back pocket. It, she kicked me in the groin so hard, I would have preferred to have my head cut off again if given an option. I was flying; I flew half way across the cave in agony but still held on to my great grandfather’s only weapon.

“Enough, time to die, old fucker,” said the witch.

I recoiled again like the story of the invisible, pretend monster. Only this thing, this beast, this evil monster was no story, she was real. I lunged forward at her with all my might, trying ever so hard to gain momentum and speed as I ran. The goal was simple enough. She was going to receive the sharp end of Harold’s knife in her stomach, directly, point blank and I was going to gut her like a fucking fish.

I tried……

And… I failed miserably…

“
Enough. Time for you to die, time traveler, child of wealth, future priest and eternal hypocrite
…”

Hey, that wasn’t fair. She took the knife, dropped the old man and now had me picked up with both her hands.

“
This is not about justice, boy. That idea like hope, faith and love ultimately has no meaning
…”

I surprised myself with my own response. In short, I thought she was going to kill me and without the benefit of eating bug brains, I grew a pair…

“If you still truly believe in nothing then fucking kill me and spare me the sermons, please…”

The Rapture woman no longer believed in miracles. That didn’t mean that Harold and I no longer did. We were just about to witness one. The unnamed species was awake again and probably pissed off about the new hairpiece the witch and Harold gave it.

She dropped me.

I fell.

It snuck up behind her.

“My God, Andrew, please, let’s get to the elevator while we still can.”

“Yes,” I answered.

We did.

The unnamed species hissed and followed the witch around the cave like an out of control bull hell bent on personal vengeance against its matador. She, it ran and screamed… Oh, how the thing screamed.

“Me, too,” the old man answered.

I watched her run and run from the time traveling monster. It was almost pathetic.

Running around like a fucking chicken with its head cut off but oh hell that’s a combination of nihilism and the apocalypse isn’t it?

Then the monster stopped in its tracks. This came as a great surprise to the prehistoric bug.

“She’s going to go on the offensive now, I think,” Harold said.

“We need to get on the fucking elevators, Harold.”

“We will son, very soon.”

She moved with the grace of an animal once again and jumped or rather took a fierce leap onto the giant insect’s head. Its exposed brains were right there for all three of us to see again. She dipped her head down like she was bobbing for apples (God knows she liked apples) and took a gluttonous mouthful…

“God,” Harold gasped.

She took out my great grandfather’s sharp knife and plunged it deep into the unnamed species brain. The witch took the meat of the brain and placed it in her mouth. The beast screamed and threw her off. It bit her and took off her left hand almost instantly. She ran…… with the speed of a cheetah. The beast followed up behind her, screaming in pain and probably for vengeance.

“It’s anybody’s game, I suppose, Andrew.”

“Yes, Harold.”

She ate the thing’s brains, well, the other thing, the other monster in the cave, I mean. Her hand came back in less than a second or so. Then she jumped on it. Then she cut out more of its brain and stabbed its right eye, perhaps as many as forty times.

The unnamed species cried out in great pain and it echoed all through our ancestral cave……

“She’s coming for us, let’s move, Harold. Damn it, we’re almost to that elevator.”

The travel bug was crawling now. It looked… slow… hurt… wounded… and just maybe dying.

“
Time to die, abomination, liar, and faith killer
…”

“Should we try to save it, son?”

“What?” I asked the old man, bewilderingly.

She took his knife and with rapid force, cut one of the unnamed specie’s legs clean off of its enormous body.

She laughed.

It screamed in agony.

The unnamed species passed out and she took full advantage.

She blinded its right eye. The witch cut right through its big beautiful red eye and the color of it changed to gray.

“We need to help it, its family, Andrew.”

Like a raving lunatic, I ran towards the white haired witch. The closer I ran, the more I could smell her foul stench. Rotting flesh and rotten apples and rotting flesh and… rotten apples, filled my nostrils.

“Hello, priest boy,” it said.
“Time to be worm food like mommy and daddy
…”

“For every one that curseth his father or his mother shall be surely put to death; he hath cursed his father or his mother; his blood shall be upon him… or her.”

“
Fuck you, sunshine. It never says her at the end
…”

“True. What verse is it?”

“
Leviticus 20:9.
”

“Yes,” I answered her.

She was… remembering her humanity momentarily.

“Go for it, Andrew!” Harold shouted.

I grabbed the knife right out of her hands. I gave her blindness another shot. I sliced right threw her eyes again.

“It’s hidden,” I said.

She had more brain hidden for additional regenerations. That way she could kill me, Harold and the bug. That was essentially, the whole family. Now, dear reader, I am desperately trying to tell this story in a realistic manner, although I know it sounds like madness.

Was she naked?

Yes.

Where would she hide the bug brain meat?

Well, think about it. Where do prisoners hide things? I mean, when they sneak in drugs and money? You got it.

“Andrew, what the hell are you doing?” Harold asked.

I took the knife into the blind witch’s vulnerable flesh. The knife went sharply into her anus. I cut the foul flesh with all of my might. The stench from this part of her body was surprisingly much less offensive to my sense of smell than her mouth was. In short, she was blind, she was confused and I took a pound or more of bug brain right from her ass.

“You will pay!” it screamed.

“No,” I said.

“Throw me the brains,” Harold said.

“You got it, old man.”

She lay down on the ground, crying. Her torn flesh stinking. Her eyes gone forever and the mother of evil knew she had lost.

I walked up to the travel bug.

“Go for it, son,” Harold said.

“Wake up and finish the job, please.”

The thing lay there, unconscious with no signs of life, no response.

“Wake up, please,” I said.

I looked at the poor, abused, half blind B movie monster. It surely was pitiful, even before the mother of all lies got to it. The poor creature was half blind, missing a leg or two. Christ, it was missing quite a bit of meat, brains or otherwise important body parts. Still, it had some dignity. It seemed to sort of go into a coma every now and then when its body was extremely degraded.

I hit the unnamed species on the head with the handle end of the knife and both of my fists… as hard as I could muster!

“That’s it, son!”

“Wake up!”

“That’s it, Andrew!”

“Wake up!”

“Nice going, son, I’m proud of you!”

“Wake up, God damn it! You’re family!”

The one surviving red eye of the unnamed species opened up. Our travel bug was awake and alive. It looked at us with a stare that might have suggested love. The thing looked at her with a stare of pure hatred.

“
Bring it, fucker, bring it
…”

“Christ,” Harold shouted.

The beast insect swallowed her whole in a mere instant! She was gone faster than any lady in any vanishing act in the history of show business. Lost forever in the belly of the beast, she was, the woman from Rapture.

“She had no conscience, no soul, she deserved it,” said my great grandfather.

The big bug almost seemed to almost smile at us.

“Is it smiling?” Harold asked me.

The unnamed species took its one big leg and swiped a little bit its own brain. The cut from Harold was sufficient enough for the job. It took it and ate it. Then miracles seemed to happen…

“My God,” I said.

The thing’s eye healed instantly. Then it swiped another piece of its own brain. The top of its head healed in less than a second. The biology of this bug was quite amazing.

“What the fuck?” I asked.

“Prehistoric genetics,” Harold said.

Then the travel bug used its remaining legs to drill, dig, deep into the earth at the bottom of our secret cave.

It smiled, it winked.

It was gone.

The thing was gone. Forever and ever, I was sad about that. Its eyes were closed and the witch was dead? Perhaps not…