I stare at Jeff's forearm, swollen to at least twice its normal size. He looks like Popeye.
"Doesn't it hurt?" I ask.
"A little," he says, prodding the mass with his fingers. A single drop of blood pushes out of a small wet wound about two inches from his elbow.
"You should see a doctor," I say, but Jeff isn't listening. He's staring at the red wound.
"Wait," he says. "Here it comes! This is what I wanted to show you!"
"I thought..." I start to say, but my voice chokes off when I see the little red hole on his arm twitch.
I stare as a small white maggot streaked with half-clotted blood squirms out of Jeff's arm and drops to the floor.
He lets out a huge sigh and gingerly pushes the larva to the corner of the room with his bare foot. As my eyes follow the progress, I see what look like several more of the wriggling thing's fellows waiting for him in the shadows.
Jeff pads back over to me and cocks an eyebrow.
"Gross," I say. "How many are over there?"
"Oh, I don't know," he says, looking back to the maggot-corner. "Five, maybe six. Not a lot."
"You seriously need to see a doctor," I say again. "Get that thing cleaned out."
"I can't do that," he says. "I'm a gateway. I'm their gateway."
"What?" I ask.
Jeff sighs again, and somehow manages to sound condescending, like he's explained this to me several times already.
"This proves I exist on the cusp between realities, Sam. This hole in my arm is the doorway from their world," he says, nodding to the maggots, "and ours."
"Um," I say. "Okay...but I don't think anybody really wants squirmy grub-things in our universe. Let's, uh, let's just close the door. Keep them out."
He turns to me, wide-eyed. "Can you imagine what closing that door would do to the fabric of spacetime?" he blurts. "Can you?"
"Er," I say.
"I'm not willing to take that chance," he says, head dropping in resignation.
I stare at him, trying to decide how seriously to take him and at what point I need to get the authorities invloved.
"Jeff," I say, "this is just stupid."
He looks up, smiling. "You were going with it, though," he says. "'Let's just close the door'," he says, mimicking my voice, but making it sound much more terrified than I'm sure it sounded.
"You're a dork," I say. "So you are going to the doctor?"
"Tomorrow," he says, looking at his arm. "I think there's just one more in here."
"Good," I say, walking to the maggot corner. "These are just nasty."
"You know," I say, raising my boot to crush the infestation, "we should really..."
My movement is interrupted as Jeff barrels across the room, planting a shoulder in my gut.
I fly backward, sprawling onto the floor.
Jeff is immediately above me, eyes red, fuming with rage.
"DON'T TOUCH MY BABIES!" he screams.
I stare at him, stunned, and feel something wet drop from his arm onto my face.
I hope it's blood.
"Doesn't it hurt?" I ask.
"A little," he says, prodding the mass with his fingers. A single drop of blood pushes out of a small wet wound about two inches from his elbow.
"You should see a doctor," I say, but Jeff isn't listening. He's staring at the red wound.
"Wait," he says. "Here it comes! This is what I wanted to show you!"
"I thought..." I start to say, but my voice chokes off when I see the little red hole on his arm twitch.
I stare as a small white maggot streaked with half-clotted blood squirms out of Jeff's arm and drops to the floor.
He lets out a huge sigh and gingerly pushes the larva to the corner of the room with his bare foot. As my eyes follow the progress, I see what look like several more of the wriggling thing's fellows waiting for him in the shadows.
Jeff pads back over to me and cocks an eyebrow.
"Gross," I say. "How many are over there?"
"Oh, I don't know," he says, looking back to the maggot-corner. "Five, maybe six. Not a lot."
"You seriously need to see a doctor," I say again. "Get that thing cleaned out."
"I can't do that," he says. "I'm a gateway. I'm their gateway."
"What?" I ask.
Jeff sighs again, and somehow manages to sound condescending, like he's explained this to me several times already.
"This proves I exist on the cusp between realities, Sam. This hole in my arm is the doorway from their world," he says, nodding to the maggots, "and ours."
"Um," I say. "Okay...but I don't think anybody really wants squirmy grub-things in our universe. Let's, uh, let's just close the door. Keep them out."
He turns to me, wide-eyed. "Can you imagine what closing that door would do to the fabric of spacetime?" he blurts. "Can you?"
"Er," I say.
"I'm not willing to take that chance," he says, head dropping in resignation.
I stare at him, trying to decide how seriously to take him and at what point I need to get the authorities invloved.
"Jeff," I say, "this is just stupid."
He looks up, smiling. "You were going with it, though," he says. "'Let's just close the door'," he says, mimicking my voice, but making it sound much more terrified than I'm sure it sounded.
"You're a dork," I say. "So you are going to the doctor?"
"Tomorrow," he says, looking at his arm. "I think there's just one more in here."
"Good," I say, walking to the maggot corner. "These are just nasty."
"You know," I say, raising my boot to crush the infestation, "we should really..."
My movement is interrupted as Jeff barrels across the room, planting a shoulder in my gut.
I fly backward, sprawling onto the floor.
Jeff is immediately above me, eyes red, fuming with rage.
"DON'T TOUCH MY BABIES!" he screams.
I stare at him, stunned, and feel something wet drop from his arm onto my face.
I hope it's blood.
Sad day when something drops onto your face and you HOPE it's blood.
Posted by: Q | November 12, 2007 at 02:46 PM
Woo...somehow the title told me to be wary.
Posted by: cuileann | November 12, 2007 at 05:05 PM
I dunno...somehow the title told me to get ready for pure, unadulterated awesomeness. Even that couldn't prepare me enough.
(Favorite/creepiest visual: "a small white maggot streaked with half-clotted blood squirms...")
Posted by: Gretchen | November 12, 2007 at 08:36 PM
*quiet retching*
Posted by: Faith | November 13, 2007 at 09:20 PM
^lol *loud retching*
Will you write a horror novel please? Only make it funny. All those other guys out there writing horror stuff... amateurs.
Posted by: Calliope1of9 | November 24, 2007 at 05:04 PM