GrUeberfest 2005: Something in the Wall (794 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 1.93 on 21 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by pen_name (View user info) at 2005-10-21 02:19:35 EDT
"Curtis! Get out here!"
Danny ran around the outside of the house, checking each window for movement. He did a full lap, taking in the front and the back, before stopping under the kitchen's bay window.
He shouted into the air. "What's taking you so long?"
No answer.
Irritated, he kicked a loose clump of grass and sent it into the side of the house. It left a smudge of dirt that slowly slid down the siding, weeping its way to the bottom, and then clinging, like an ornament on a Christmas tree.
Back at the front, Danny lifted up on to his toes to see if he could get a better look into Curtis's second floor window. He couldn't make out much, just the top edge of his Beatles poster and a potted plant withering on the sill. The leaves drooped and spilled around the base, as if it hadn't been watered in quite some time. The remaining leaves fluttered softly in the afternoon breeze.
Danny stomped off down the driveway, resigned to give up and go home. He kicked pebbles and scuffed his foot back and forth over the asphalt, trying to stuff his 10-year old-anger. When he reached the planter by the mailbox, he sighed, and decided to give it one more shot. He climbed onto the planter and focused on the window.
Then a familiar voice spoke out behind him.
"Hey kiddo."
Danny swirled around and saw Curtis's mother. She was carrying a bag of groceries and had difficulty getting up the walk. The strain was apparent on her face, as rivulets of sweat peaked under the brim of her baseball cap.
"Oh, hi Mrs. H." Danny hopped down, collapsing to his knees, before stumbling and balancing himself. "Where's Curtis? We were supposed to play some basketball today."
"Curtis had to do some errands." She said. "He should be back soon."
Mrs. Harris patted him on the head and made her way to the porch. He followed her and offered to carry the groceries up the steps. She declined.
"If you want to help me, hon, let an old girl use you as her walking stick." She wiped the sweat off her forehead and looked up at the late afternoon sun. "I'm feeling a little weak today."
Danny nodded and felt a great weight push down on his left side. He could feel her arm tremble, like a dog struggling on a bad leg. When they made it to the top, Mrs. Harris thanked him again and ruffled his hair. Then she stepped into the house.
Danny knew the problem had to do with her insides, but Curtis was never too specific—either because he was too depressed to find out, or too ignorant to understand. She became ill shortly after Curtis's father died, and it seemed to be the Harris' lot in life—to suffer loss after loss until the clan was nothing but a memory. To them it seemed like a joke, as if God was finally catching up on some housecleaning.
All told, Curtis had lost his father in a car accident, an uncle and two baby cousins in an apartment fire, a great aunt to lung cancer, and his sister to a seizure that sent her head into a plate glass window—all in the period of five years. His sister's death was most recent, and had the greatest impact on their family. Dying wasn't a shock anymore. The only pain seemed to come from being alive.
"Hey Danny."
Curtis called from the foot of the driveway. He had just eased off his bicycle and offered a waive. Danny smiled and returned it, strolling forward to help carry one of the bags in the basket. Curtis refused politely, hefting the bags in his grip before letting the bicycle fall over. It landed with a puff of dust, and a thud.
"I just got to give these to my mom and we'll head out; all right" Curtis smiled, or tried to, but to Danny it looked artificial. It looked like a contrivance, as if Curtis had calculated the appropriate response and used it without reason. Danny didn't know why it bothered him, but it made him feel apprehensive.
Out on the main road, the pair peddled carelessly, cool and comfortable in the waning sun. Each block led them to one of their hangouts; First, to the creek, where they went fishing every year, then the bait shop where they always teased Mr. Winfred, telling him how large their catch was. Then they sped past the candy store where they always helped themselves to a treat after school, and finally the drugstore where Curtis made his errands. Curtis always looked the other way when they went by the drug store. The polished glass and neon signs made his heart ache. Danny noticed this, of course, but he never said anything. He always looked at the horizon when his friend got a lump in his throat and couldn't withhold the tears.
The basketball courts were just beyond Tenor High, a good half mile past the drug store. They usually had the odd mix of kids looking for summer league practice and the office elite, looking to exercise their knee braces and work off their late night cocktails. Most of the time, it wasn't too difficult to find a free court and if they were all taken, Danny and Curtis would slump down against the chain-linked fence and talk until one opened up. They never had to wait for more than fifteen minutes, and talking as they did was a fun way to pass the time.
Today they had to wait.
Danny took his basketball and sat on it, watching a few of their fellow 6th graders run through some lay-up drills. The coach's whistle ripped through the air with each successful play. Curtis sat next to him and twisted a dandelion that he tugged through the fence.
"How's your mom." Danny always asked, because Curtis always brought it up sooner or later.
"It's spreading, whatever it is." Curtis said. "The doctors don't know what to do."
Danny nodded. A boy took a shot and it clanged heavily off the backboard. It rolled to Curtis and he kicked it back.
"But they're not giving up right?
Curtis just shook his head.
There was a long pause as they watched the action on the courts. They turned their heads back and forth like tennis spectators, the wind ruffling their hair this way and that. Curtis watched his shadow and the wisps of darkness rising and fading from his head. Then he spoke.
"You want to see something?"
Danny shrugged and watched an overweight kid stumble on his way to the basket. "Like what?"
"It's something I found at Wilcox, out by Dresden Bridge."
"The fort?"
"Yeah, I found it the other day when I was looking for spent shells. It's in one of the buildings—something in the wall. I figured you might want to see it.
Danny looked over at Curtis and he saw that same artificial smile as before. It unnerved him.
"I don't know," he said reluctantly. "That's four miles away."
"I know a shortcut...please?"
It wasn't a nagging, or bratty request, like a son asking his father to take him to a baseball game, but one of desperation, one of need. Danny relented and said OK.
They left as quickly as they had arrived, mounting their bikes and riding off eastward—their backs to the setting sun. Danny tried repeatedly to get Curtis to tell him what they were going to see, but was shot down every time. "The secret of all secrets," Curtis told him, again and again. So they rode until the sun crested behind them; they rode until there was nothing but a soft pink swirling in the sky and a considerable distance between them and Tenor.
The Fort, as it was known, was an old army base that closed in the early 90s. The gates were sealed with thick chains, and government warnings were placed every twenty feet on the perimeter.
The signs were ominous: No trespassing...criminal penalties will be enforced...etc, yet it didn't stop kids like Danny and Curtis from scaling the fence and looking for souvenirs—for various trinkets labeled: "Property of Fort Wilcox." It was everyone's shared hobby, looking for posters, pens, blankets—whatever. They also dug for spent ammunition behind the firing range, tearing at the earth like gophers until they found a few .358 Winchesters rounds, or a handful of spent 9-millimeters, their fronts mashed from impact.
Admittedly, raiding the fort lost a lot of its appeal as the years passed. Most of the prized items were gone and scavengers took to stealing the signs off the gate or stripping a board or two off the inside of the barracks. The latter was done mostly out of boredom and the odd chance that they might find some ancient newspaper as insulation. It was always interesting to find that in particular, because the articles would date back 70 years or more. The walls were like time capsules, and as good to plunder as an arm full of blankets and a pound of spent shells.
Curtis stopped at the gate and put his weight on his right foot. He spoke softly, telling Danny that he found his secret when he was ripping a board off the inside of the break room. Most people looked there, because they figured that if the government was going to save on materials, they would start with nonessential areas.
With a rattle of metal, Danny and Curtis climbed the fence and dropped over the other side. Curtis walked out in front, leading Danny across the grounds and into the baron looking shed, once known as the break room.
Inside, you could see shadows where things once stood—shiny patches of wall where picture frames had clung for decades, where a pinball machine had jutted up against the paneling, and where a sofa spread along the wall.
And of course, there were the missing boards.
The gaps spread horizontally—three-foot spaces that opened like dark mouths, with studs taking the place of teeth. All around, they circled the boys, grinning menacingly. Curtis closed the door behind them.
Some light still diffused through a glassless window—just enough so they could make out each other's form. Curtis pointed at the far side of the room and said, "Over there. Look."
Danny looked over and then turned back to Curtis.
"What is it?" He didn't know why, but he was whispering.
"It's a secret," Curtis said "Go ahead. Check it out."
Danny turned back to the wall and started creeping toward it. As with his whispering, he couldn't explain why he felt so tentative. Part of it, he thought, was the air in the break room. It was stale and moldy, like a root cellar. Making it worse, his feet echoed with each step—something he couldn't account for.
He looked over his shoulder wanting to run away, but the silhouette named Curtis just motioned ahead. A chill went through Danny as if his bones had been dipped in ice. He closed his eyes and continued.
In what seemed like a heartbeat, Danny was only an arm's length away. He squinted trying to see through the darkness and make out what was in the pitch-black opening. He couldn't. Then he listened—inching as close as he dare to the grinning wall. Nothing came, but Curtis raised his voice behind him.
"I'm sorry."
At once, a gnarled hand reached out of the opening. Its nails were like daggers and it clamped onto Danny's arm, digging in and cutting him to the bone. Danny screamed and pulled, trying to shake off what had gotten hold of him, but he couldn't. It only pulled harder and cut deeper. Danny put his knees against the wall and leaned back, tearing his flesh and causing unmentionable agony. Then it made a sound—a whine like a dog that had been kicked. The screech echoed across the room, and drowned out Danny' pain and even his own thoughts. Then it spoke in a raspy voice: "come child, death awaits you." The sound it made frightened him more than the words, a sound that made him feel insane. Danny cried and it wailed louder, pulling him up to his shoulder.
Danny spun toward Curtis, tears in his eyes. He pleaded with him. "Help me. Please!"
Curtis made no move to help his friend. He made no cry of fear or anger. Instead he put his head down and looked at the floor.
The creature grew impatient with the struggle and reached another hand through the opening. The claw wrapped around Danny' neck. He began coughing and his eyes bulged outward. He stared at Curtis, his eyes making the pleas his voice could not.
Spit dripped down his chin and fell on his chest.
As a last attempt to save his own life, Danny began beating the claw under his chin, but it did no good. He only tore his own fist on the jagged, sore-ridden hand and added to his pain. With one final gasp, he relented, his head hanging limp over the creature's claw.
The wailing stopped inside the wall and for a moment the slacken body remained upright, like a puppet. Then with a rush, the creature drew the boy in, collapsing bones and mangling tissue. Blood smeared on the surrounding boards and pooled on the floor.
In a minute, it seeped through the cracks, and it too was gone.
Curtis looked up. The creature appeared through the hole.
Its head was grayish-white and looked melted, like it was nothing more than wax or curdled milk. Nodules stretched over the entirety of its face. They excreted a viscous liquid that dripped and vanished in midair.
"Good boy." The creature said, his voice echoing as before.
Curtis spoke over a lump in his throat. "Will you keep your word?"
The creature smiled, exposing its bloody teeth. "Certainly." It grabbed one of its blisters and lanced it with it's razor-sharp finger. Yellow-white liquid poured out in waves, filling a vile in his grasp. "This will keep your mother well for some time—though," the creature smiled again, "eventually, you will need more."
Curtis walked forward and took the vile out of the hand, stopping it with a piece of cork in his pocket. "How long?"
"Oh, six months," the voice was rough like sandpaper "a drop in each meal and she'll be right as rain."
Curtis nodded and walked back to the door. He wanted to turn and give himself up, to die with his friend. Then his shoulders sunk and he grabbed the knob. The creature called from behind him.
"I'll be waiting."
User Reviews
Submitted by AshK (user info) at 2005-10-24 12:18:44 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
A few typo issues. Vile/vial waive/wave, things like that. I liked the story. I have an eleven year old, and the description of their interaction seemed very realistic. Over all, I really enjoyed this one.
So, do you refrigerate deamon pus or does it keep pretty well?
Submitted by Orgasmatron (user info) at 2005-10-21 17:35:54 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Awesome.
When I have kids I'll be sure to tell them "Don't be stupid like Danny. Tell your wierdo friends to go fuck themselves if they want to show you something behind a wall. Unless you want to be ravaged by a creature so evil its asshole is made of razor blades. Sleep tight, kiddos."
Submitted by pen_name (user info) at 2005-10-21 16:36:15 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
i don't know, jack. i just figured that with all that lead up, i'd be a dick if i didn't give some description to the bad guy.
that's the age old question...do i build up the man behind the curtain, or run the risk of mob violence when i don't provide a corporeal entity.
Sometimes when i write, i restict myself to the age-old K.I.S.S. mentality, and hope it will get me through.
i am not a complicated man.
Submitted by Jack_McCallum (user info) at 2005-10-21 15:44:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
There were typos (pot/kettle) and I would have tried to avoid the 'creature' and put someONE else in there, but for a 1 day effort, +2.
The moments just before the kid was grabbed were great, but it's the age-old quandry of writing horror. Do you show the beast or let the reader imagine it? What would be more powerful?
Submitted by ghola (user info) at 2005-10-21 15:38:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
No Comment
Submitted by Brdn_Nkd (user info) at 2005-10-21 15:27:02 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
very cool.
Submitted by LadyPlural (user info) at 2005-10-21 14:23:59 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
He gets it from your side of the family, you know. No monsters on my
side.
-- Homer Simpson
Treehouse of Horror II
Submitted by Professional_Peon (user info) at 2005-10-21 13:41:35 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
shweeet!
Submitted by pen_name (user info) at 2005-10-21 12:25:37 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
oh, and Q, this was way longer. I had a whole paragraph discussing the great depression just so i could explain why the army might have used newspaper for insulation. I trimmed it (and everything else) to keep people from blowing out their brains when they saw the length.
Submitted by pen_name (user info) at 2005-10-21 12:21:08 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-10-21 08:18:45 (#)
Ranking: 2
Excellent entry, pen. Your descriptions were good, and the characterization was great, like Kaos said. You kind of feel the sting of betrayal when poor Danny gets eaten. There were no big problems here...just a few lines that I think should be tweaked, but that's just personal preference.
Oh, you meant "vial" not "vile".
__________________________________
i refreshed about 12 times looking for a simpsons quote with a "d'oh" in it. I'm sick of clicking, so you'll have to settle for one of my patented, "aw shucks."
i know there are a few lines that I should tweak. especially that bit about the blood seeping through the floor. There's something REALLY fucked up with my comma placements.
Submitted by Jeanneee (user info) at 2005-10-21 10:44:11 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Well-structured, engaging, good dialogue. I enjoyed it.
Submitted by William_Q_Percy (user info) at 2005-10-21 10:15:40 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Too bad this wasn't longer.
Submitted by CaptainThorns (user info) at 2005-10-21 08:56:22 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Good, but saw the end coming.
What was the creature though? Some sort of mutated soldier from an army experiment?
Submitted by thecaes (user info) at 2005-10-21 08:18:45 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Excellent entry, pen. Your descriptions were good, and the characterization was great, like Kaos said. You kind of feel the sting of betrayal when poor Danny gets eaten. There were no big problems here...just a few lines that I think should be tweaked, but that's just personal preference.
Oh, you meant "vial" not "vile".
Submitted by badassmofo (user info) at 2005-10-21 07:41:29 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
I really wanted to be able to find something wrong with this ya bastard...but I couldn't.
+2 Man.
Today is hell day for me so I'll likely not get mine in until tonight after work, sorry to make you wait.
Submitted by missedthepoint (user info) at 2005-10-21 06:15:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
ahh fuckit
i am retarded and hit rank by accident
before i had changed the rating
i liked this
Submitted by missedthepoint (user info) at 2005-10-21 06:13:04 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
No Comment
Submitted by CLAIRE1 (user info) at 2005-10-21 05:31:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Caption Contest Winner!!!
Submitted by pen_name (user info) at 2005-10-21 04:09:27 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
haha, well, i didn't think anyone would read this and say to themselves, "oh, i bet mary poppins will be in the wall, and she'll give a spoon full of sugar to Danny and Curtis and sing them a lullaby about snowflakes and gumdrops dancing up and down butterscotch lane."
i was hoping Curtis' reasons behind his journey would be enough to make up for the predictability.
anyway, glad you liked it.
Submitted by kaos-king (user info) at 2005-10-21 03:59:50 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
This was a great read, if somewhat predictable. Your characters were vivid enough to offset any problems with the story. Excellent!
Submitted by pen_name (user info) at 2005-10-21 02:21:24 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
ok, there's my effort.
Sorry if it warnt scary enough, pardners. My first real go at this stuff.