Tuesday, July 21, 2015
Flesh Room (part one)
It’s like I'm waking up into a bad dream. I’m dizzy and I can’t move. I feel so heavy. It’s kind of cold, it smells, it’s damp and musky like my grandfathers basement that use to flood every summer. I start to get a little feeling back in my hands and legs. I don’t know where I am, it’s a poorly lit room about 12 feet by 8 feet with low ceilings. I now realize the floor is damp, not a damp water wet. A damp with blood wet. I can smell it and as I feel around I have now noticed that there are several bodies cut up scattered around the room. Death had definitely greeted this room with a big smile and did not hold back. I can't remember anything. I don’t know what happened, I don’t know how I got here, fuck I don’t know if this is real or a dream.
My name is Jerry Baker I run a small bar called The Hound on the east side of this shit town called “Hell”. I cater to the lowest of the low, boozers, the druggies, GED philosophers, meth heads, dirty old men, dirty old women, vets with pets, the poor, and helpless. I manage to make just enough of a profit off these bums to keep the doors open. I’m guessing my late nights of drinking and womanizing has caught up to me, but I’m still not sure. I mean I've been involved in a lot of fucked up shit. There is something I just can’t put my finger on it. This just doesn’t make sense, it doesn’t seem real.
I crawl a little and slowly try to get up. I can’t walk in this shit. What I can only imagine is blood and guts everywhere, and I’m getting more sick to my stomach every second I'm in here. The smell and from what I can see of this horror takes totally control of my senses. I believe I am standing around at least four dead bodies. My sight is getting clearer, my eyes are adjusting... There are body parts every where; half a mangled rib cage, what’s left of a neck and lower jaw, and what looks like an arm. I guessed it could be a leg, I don't know? Suddenly a bell rings in the distance. Did I just hear that? Was that real? I heard a bell and I hear faint laughter. I duck back down as I get closer to this corpse I gag and swallow, gag more and swallow. Trying to make little noise. Laughter gets louder and closer and all I can do is close my eyes. The horror that runs through my head. I hear more laughter.
The need to get out of this room has greatly increased. I can see a very tiny slit on floor where the door is and I can tell something is moving outside it. I see shadows past by, I hear more laughter, I can’t breathe. What fuck am I going to do? Should I stay in this horrid room of mangled bodies? Should I make a run for the door? If I wiggle the door knob will they notice it? Fuck the door has to be locked. Should I hold my breath and hope this all a dream? Maybe I’ll wake up and all this will be over. I'll be conscience and the thought of this dream will fade away. Fuck maybe I'm dead and this is hell. I WANT to scream!
-CGW
This Damn Doll
I had a room for rent this summer and I had asked my friends if they
knew anybody decent that was looking for a place. My friend Kara told
me she had a friend Tessa who was looking for a place until the end of
August before she moved to Colorado. I thought it sounded perfect. I met with her soon after that and
she was perfect. She didn't have much to move, she had cash up front,
and she worked over nights. I was not looking for anyone very high
maintenance, or who going to be a bother.
Tessa moved in a week later and informed me she would be out of town the first week, so she was just going to drop a couple boxes off, her bed and a few other odds and ends. We talked for a bit, just your basic hellos and how you doings. As fast as she was there, she was gone.
I thought that was fine. I preferred it to be quiet while I was working anyways. I was taking a summer class on writing, and I needed to spend the next couple days working on a paper. I was trying to write a short story about a love affair between a bartender and stripper and I was trying to compare their two lives, show that the two worlds of tending bar and stripping were very similar and that you can find love in fucked up industry filled with lies, loud music, sex, drugs, booze, and cash. First thing they tell you in writing classes is write what you know and that's what I know.
The next couple of nights were really bad thunder storms as I worked on my paper I found it very calming. My cat Bernie was always snooping in things, he's a sneaky son of a bitch too. I had to get a bell collar for him just so I could hear him and find out what he is getting into. His current obsession is the porch where all of Tessa's belongings are. He started crawling on stacked boxes and mattress she left in there. I heard a loud bang and saw the cat run out of the porch at high speed, so I went to check on it. The mattress and a box got knock over and I thought "What a damn mess the cat has caused this time." Damn cat was always getting into shit. So I started picking up his mess. I noticed a doll on the floor, it was an odd doll very frumpy and worn out. It had the look of an old Buddy Lee doll from the 1920's. I set on the box as I stacked everything back up, and I went on with my night.
As I started getting back to my working I could hear the cat whining and he was in the porch again. I walked out there after a minute of listening to his endless meowing. I turn and shout at him "WHAT!" and he just looked up at me, silent. The doll was on the floor again so I picked it up to put in back on top of the box when suddenly a loud thunder and lightning combo hit and dropped the doll nervously. That loud crash scared the shit out of me. I felt like I was ten years old again for a second there, thinking the boogie man was going to get me or something.
The feeling past and I set the doll back on the box again and shooed the cat out of the porch. walking back into the living room hoping I could some damn work done. I sat down and continued typing I found I was having trouble focusing, something about the doll was distracting me so I did what and good writer would do I poured a whiskey neat and I took a big hit of weed for inspiration. That got things moving a little bit but I was still distracted and it wasn't helping that the thunder and lightning were getting worse.
I keep hearing things, it's like a mixture of the wind and my cat I think. It's coming from upstairs. I get up to go check on it, as I open my door to walk in to the living I step on something? It's the doll. What's the fuck? How did this get there? Did my cat grab it and put it here? I'm getting a really creepy feeling from this damn doll. I throw it across the room and go back to work and another minute later I hear it again. That weird cat wind mixture I was hearing before. I go back to typing and I try to ignore it.
The whole time in the back of my mind I'm thinking "Is this weed fucking with me?" like maybe my paranoia is heightened from it and I'm just having a mini freak out. I take a deep breath and it's quiet for a minute. I think I'm okay. Then BAM! Lightning hits again and I jump. God damn I'm on edge, I need to pull it together. I take another deep breath and exhale, I can faintly hear a tapping coming from the kitchen and the creek of someone walking across my old wood floors. I'm so freaked out I don't want to go out there but I have to.
I walk in the kitchen, the lights are off and the tapping has stopped. I turn the light on to find my cats bell collar laying on the floor, still latched together. What the fuck? I hear the floor creek again in the living room, I turn to the right. It's nothing. RING!! My phone rings "oh my god." I say. I answer the phone, it's Tessa. She needs to know the mailing address at my house so here friends and family could sent things in the months to come that she would be staying with me. I give her the address and I tell her that her creepy doll is creeping me out. There was a moment of silence and she said " I don't have a doll?".
-CGW
Tessa moved in a week later and informed me she would be out of town the first week, so she was just going to drop a couple boxes off, her bed and a few other odds and ends. We talked for a bit, just your basic hellos and how you doings. As fast as she was there, she was gone.
I thought that was fine. I preferred it to be quiet while I was working anyways. I was taking a summer class on writing, and I needed to spend the next couple days working on a paper. I was trying to write a short story about a love affair between a bartender and stripper and I was trying to compare their two lives, show that the two worlds of tending bar and stripping were very similar and that you can find love in fucked up industry filled with lies, loud music, sex, drugs, booze, and cash. First thing they tell you in writing classes is write what you know and that's what I know.
The next couple of nights were really bad thunder storms as I worked on my paper I found it very calming. My cat Bernie was always snooping in things, he's a sneaky son of a bitch too. I had to get a bell collar for him just so I could hear him and find out what he is getting into. His current obsession is the porch where all of Tessa's belongings are. He started crawling on stacked boxes and mattress she left in there. I heard a loud bang and saw the cat run out of the porch at high speed, so I went to check on it. The mattress and a box got knock over and I thought "What a damn mess the cat has caused this time." Damn cat was always getting into shit. So I started picking up his mess. I noticed a doll on the floor, it was an odd doll very frumpy and worn out. It had the look of an old Buddy Lee doll from the 1920's. I set on the box as I stacked everything back up, and I went on with my night.
As I started getting back to my working I could hear the cat whining and he was in the porch again. I walked out there after a minute of listening to his endless meowing. I turn and shout at him "WHAT!" and he just looked up at me, silent. The doll was on the floor again so I picked it up to put in back on top of the box when suddenly a loud thunder and lightning combo hit and dropped the doll nervously. That loud crash scared the shit out of me. I felt like I was ten years old again for a second there, thinking the boogie man was going to get me or something.
The feeling past and I set the doll back on the box again and shooed the cat out of the porch. walking back into the living room hoping I could some damn work done. I sat down and continued typing I found I was having trouble focusing, something about the doll was distracting me so I did what and good writer would do I poured a whiskey neat and I took a big hit of weed for inspiration. That got things moving a little bit but I was still distracted and it wasn't helping that the thunder and lightning were getting worse.
I keep hearing things, it's like a mixture of the wind and my cat I think. It's coming from upstairs. I get up to go check on it, as I open my door to walk in to the living I step on something? It's the doll. What's the fuck? How did this get there? Did my cat grab it and put it here? I'm getting a really creepy feeling from this damn doll. I throw it across the room and go back to work and another minute later I hear it again. That weird cat wind mixture I was hearing before. I go back to typing and I try to ignore it.
The whole time in the back of my mind I'm thinking "Is this weed fucking with me?" like maybe my paranoia is heightened from it and I'm just having a mini freak out. I take a deep breath and it's quiet for a minute. I think I'm okay. Then BAM! Lightning hits again and I jump. God damn I'm on edge, I need to pull it together. I take another deep breath and exhale, I can faintly hear a tapping coming from the kitchen and the creek of someone walking across my old wood floors. I'm so freaked out I don't want to go out there but I have to.
I walk in the kitchen, the lights are off and the tapping has stopped. I turn the light on to find my cats bell collar laying on the floor, still latched together. What the fuck? I hear the floor creek again in the living room, I turn to the right. It's nothing. RING!! My phone rings "oh my god." I say. I answer the phone, it's Tessa. She needs to know the mailing address at my house so here friends and family could sent things in the months to come that she would be staying with me. I give her the address and I tell her that her creepy doll is creeping me out. There was a moment of silence and she said " I don't have a doll?".
-CGW
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