Grueberfest Round 1 - Gargoyle (688 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.88 on 21 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by icarus (View user info) at 2008-09-25 13:25:52 EDT
Shinbone Alley smelled like a fucking corpse cart. It was natural, Detective Summoner thought, retracting her doc martin as a wet groan escaped the yielding carpet of bodies underfoot. Fucking hell. She could understand why families arrived in the middle of the night, heaving tarp-wrapped loved ones from the backs of SUV's, the beds of pickups, the trunks of Metros.
Alleys were a lot more convenient than the converted garbage trucks that rattled past her window Tuesday mornings, painting a trail of blood and diluted disinfectant down the asphalt, and they were a hell of a lot cheaper than a burial. She could understand the conflicting waves of fear, betrayal, love and revulsion. Hell, most cops could, which was why the dumping laws were hardly enforced.
She just hated it when they weren't dead.
"I'm sorry," she whispered as the groan broke into a desperate, sobbing howl. It was a futile gesture. Whatever she'd stepped on had curdled blood bubbling out its ears, nose, and empty eye sockets; curdled blood teeming with millions of blind, squirming, microscoping worms called nematodes. Whatever was under her was blind and deaf and dead to everything but the pressure on top of it, the primal fear of being buried alive.
Tricia Summoner reined her imagination in before it got the best of her. She was one of the survivors. One of the few thousand officials who were deemed "vital to the continuation of the species" who recieved the limited supply of innoculant against the raging nematode infection. Just as she thought she had collected herself, something huge shifted at the end of the alley.
"You have a gun, you know." It stated quite calmly.
"Who's there?" She asked. The 9mm was already out of her shoulder holster, aimed at -- what she assumed was -- the massive shadow's head.
"Oh now, don't aim the thing at me." It sounded male. Definitely male with a thick Yorkshire accent, but deep as the damned foghorn on the bay. "I'm not your man, d'tective. 'Sides, bullets would most likely bounce off an' hurt you."
"Damnit, I'm going to ask you one more time," she said, drawing back the hammer as she took a step back towards the street, "Who the hell are you?"
There was the sound of cheap flint colliding, and in the flicker of light that followed, Tricia wished she hadn't asked. As the flourescent orange lighter made its way to the tip of a Cuban cigar, she had just enough time to make out skin like a granite countertop, a hint of massive bat wings, and a face like a cross between a rotweiller, a holstein, and Mickey Rooney. As the light died to a dull glow, she could just make out what appeared to be a femur held in the hooked claws of its left hand. "Happy now?" It asked.
"Put the weapon away!" She insisted.
The thing exploded into a thick, hearty chuckle. "This?" It shook the femur playfully. "A weapon? More like a midnight snack. Now put either put the pea shooter away, d'tective, or pop that poor bloke in the skull so a fellow can eat in peace."
"So you're the one who's been doing it." She said, stepping closer.
"What?" It asked, "leavin' all these corpses? Naw, luvie. That's your good citizens."
"I don't care about dumpers." She said, "the city doesn't give a rat's ass for them. Easy way to keep people from rioting, keep the corpse carts and crematoriums from running twenty four seven. What they DO care about is finding mass-graves dug up, desecrated, half-cannibalized corpses left behind."
"It isn't cannibalism anymore than a chicken sandwich." It rationalized. "Are you a vegetarian or something?"
"Bullshit," she said, "you've eaten a lot of people, freak. Including my younger brother."
The thing blew a trail of smoke out its thick nostrils. "If I did he was already dead, luv."
"I don't care!" she screamed, "don't you fucking understand respect for the dead? Don't you know they've already suffered enough?"
"Do you think the fellow that's doin' the screamin's already suffered enough?" the thing asked, "If they're sufferin' here it's because the drug companies are too damned slow to pump out the cure, 'cause the families are too sick of listenin' to their screamin. Not because of me."
Tricia opened her mouth. She'd seen humanity in these alleys. She'd seen teddy bears and prayer beads and plastic wreaths left behind. She a Hallmark card on her dresser. It was from a wife to her husband on their anniversary. She'd found it on an old man's chest, and it was the one thing the looters hadn't lifted. She opened her mouth and then she shut it again.
"I'm not interested in flesh, if that's what's bothering you." It said. "I'm interested in sins."
"Sins?" She asked.
"Haven't you ever heard of the gargoyles?" It asked, "We were big in the day. They put us on cathedrals in what men call the dark ages. Put us on the tallest fingers pointing to God. We were made to protect against the evil spirits what were causing the Black Death."
"You can't be," she said. "Gargoyles were stone. They were made by people with hammers and chisels. Stone doesn't think and talk!"
"Then what do you call that smart phone on your hip?" it asked. "I'm just like the silicon microchip inside. Only instead of being infused with ones and zeroes, I'm brought to life by human belief and hope and fear."
"But you're eating the people."
"I am eating the sins that are not their own." It explained. "The spiritual disease what binds them to this shit-stained alley. I am eating the lies and betrayal of those who were supposed to care about them, environmental sins that has polluted their flesh as sure as the tiny worms. I eat the bile in their liver, and the memories from their minds, and they become pure again. And as I eat the sins I become the sins and the pain and the knowledge."
"Do you think he knew?" She asked, lowering her gun at last.
The thing looked up. "Your brother?" It looked almost mystic in the whirling smoke and the light of the cigar. "That you left him to die?"
"Yes." She whispered with the hint of a sob.
"He was blind and deaf, you know." It said, "and the pain drove him near out of his mind. But yes, he could feel the pressure of the bodies on top of him. At some level he knew he'd been left to die." He pulled out the cigarette and tore the calf muscle off with his teeth. "He didn't scream much." He added as he saw her head dip. "Very brave. Labored breathing for a day and a half befor he gave out."
"Could you eat my sins?" She asked, sinking on her knees into the pile of dead and dying.
"I can eat the sins of your society," He said. "I can eat the sins of your father's and father's fathers. I can eat the sins you inherit and that were forced on to you, the evil spirits that exist like worms in your blood. I cannot eat your sins or take away what you did in the dark when you were just a girl. No one can do that." He watched the reflection of the street lamps in her tears and added; "If it's worth anything, I can say he's passed on to a better place, d'tective. He could give two shits for what you did ten years ago. He'd remember the stuffed bear you tucked under his arm. He'd even think it was noble what you did, joining the force so you could support your mum and find the crazy man what ate him."
Detective Tricia Summoner could never remember what happened next. If she thanked him, if he said something amazingly profound, if he flew off silhouetted by the moon over the bay. All she could remember was that when she woke the next morning, the sun streaming in her apartment window, there was something there that Tricia thought she had lost forever.
User Reviews
Submitted by JoeyG (user info) at 2008-09-29 17:04:05 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Wish I had got this title.
Submitted by Desz (user info) at 2008-09-29 15:45:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by billrhine (user info) at 2008-09-28 12:50:26 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Bubba2341 (user info) at 2008-09-27 00:04:41 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
PayMeLater could fuck up a wet dream.
Submitted by kaos-king (user info) at 2008-09-27 00:01:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Nellypaal (user info) at 2008-09-26 05:44:06 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
Not bad.
Submitted by Quint (user info) at 2008-09-26 01:29:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Very well written. Engaging, funny.
Submitted by Gyro_Gearloose (user info) at 2008-09-25 22:12:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by icarus1987 (user info) at 2008-09-25 16:52:13 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by DudeThatsBOSH (user info) at 2008-09-25 13:46:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
if it was me, i would have just posted a picture of earl scruggs winning a country music award.
nothing scarier than that.
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You would have loved the gay gargoyle story :(
Submitted by icarus1987 (user info) at 2008-09-25 16:51:43 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2008-09-25 15:27:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I was tempted to +1 this, but for a reason I cannot understand this line made me laugh hysterically- "It isn't cannibalism anymore than a chicken sandwich."
+2 is for the slightly different take on the same old stuff.
Nice pic too -- I assume that is a Notre Dame gargoyle?
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I'm pretty sure it is. I was honestly going to write a story about a gay gargoyle that couldn't bite people on the ass and make them gargoyles anymore, what with his having broken teeth and all (mixing the two titles) I decided I should at least try for SERIOUS camp, though :(
Submitted by frankthebear (user info) at 2008-09-25 16:28:47 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
better than the other "Gargoyle" story.
which reminds me, anyone seen the movie called "Gargoyles that was put out back in the late '70s? it was so bad, it was scary!
Submitted by Lib (user info) at 2008-09-25 16:07:12 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by haikumikoo (user info) at 2008-09-25 15:38:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
"It isn't cannibalism anymore than a chicken sandwich." It rationalized. "Are you a vegetarian or something?"
"Bullshit," she said, "you've eaten a lot of people, freak. Including my younger brother."
The thing blew a trail of smoke out its thick nostrils. "If I did he was already dead, luv."
"I don't care!" she screamed, "don't you fucking understand respect for the dead? Don't you know they've already suffered enough?"
"Do you think the fellow that's doin' the screamin's already suffered enough?" the thing asked, "If they're sufferin' here it's because the drug companies are too damned slow to pump out the cure, 'cause the families are too sick of listenin' to their screamin. Not because of me."
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At that point in the story I was sure this was about to take a turn for the retarded, and was preparing my +1 (I did like the beginning after all). I mean, when I think of gargoyles I don't exactly picturing them taking on corrupt drug companies. It immediately went back to being very good with the next paragraph, good story.
Submitted by PayMeLater (user info) at 2008-09-25 15:29:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 1
No Comment
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2008-09-25 15:27:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I was tempted to +1 this, but for a reason I cannot understand this line made me laugh hysterically- "It isn't cannibalism anymore than a chicken sandwich."
+2 is for the slightly different take on the same old stuff.
Nice pic too -- I assume that is a Notre Dame gargoyle?
Submitted by Harmon (user info) at 2008-09-25 14:36:07 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This was no "Made in the U.S.A" by Jack McCallum, but it'll do!
Submitted by SgtHartman (user info) at 2008-09-25 14:18:58 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
good work
Submitted by sandmantate (user info) at 2008-09-25 13:59:28 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Dude! This was good. I liked it.
Submitted by forensicgirl3 (user info) at 2008-09-25 13:57:48 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
nematodes
gross
Submitted by DudeThatsBOSH (user info) at 2008-09-25 13:46:33 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
if it was me, i would have just posted a picture of earl scruggs winning a country music award.
nothing scarier than that.
Submitted by icarus1987 (user info) at 2008-09-25 13:32:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
This is probably the best time to proofread.