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Plant the Seeds of Evil

"A figure stands tall in the doorway of this small underground room."

Photo by Science/ HowStuffWorks

A figure stands tall in the doorway of this small underground room. The outline says male. He steps closer to me and drops down on a knee. I scoot backward to the wall; he breathes out an awful smelling gas. It seems to peel the skin off my bones. He reaches down to grab my hand so quickly I can't pull away. My wrist is being crushed in his grasp. He was determined to not let go until he did what he wanted to do. There is a slice and blood rushing from my palm. I scream as something is forced inside the wound. My head is spinning; I see black.


                                                            ***


The throbbing wakes me. My eyes crash open, prepared to land on the man's outline. They don't. Somewhere in here is a door; I find it and launch myself through it. I'm ready to fight my way out. What I see is a kitchen, quiet as a graveyard. Across from me is the back door. My feet propel me forward; sunlight shines on me. It's bright, warm, and free. I run for a few miles, stopping only for a minute or two. Somehow I know I'm getting close to home. I can just see Mama in the kitchen making breakfast. Grams would be on the porch waiting for me to get home. I know they're waiting for me. They know I'm coming back, they have to. Mama I'm coming home.


                                                            ***


It's dark by the time I get home. I'm sore and tired. My heart feels like it'll pop any second. Grams isn't on the porch; I don't see Mama in the kitchen. The lights are off throughout the house. God I hope they're home. I clench my hands tight as I walk inside. No one in the living room, not the hallway either. My heart races as I land my feet at Mama's door. One push and it swings open. Mama starts to move under her covers. I try to call her name but what comes out doesn't sound like me at all. I reach up to cover my mouth with a hand that now feels twenty pounds heavier. Mama sits up rubbing her eyes. I can hear Grams stirring in her bedroom. Mama's hands fall and she finally gets a good look at me. Her mouth drops open; she takes a deep breath and screams a horrid sound I've never heard her make before.


                                                             ***


In the backyard now I can hear Mama frantically trying to call for Grams. Tears fall from my exhausted cheeks. I don't know why she screamed at me. Did I do something wrong? Maybe it's because I'm filthy from being in that place and running home. No. Why did she look at me like that? She looked horrified by the sight of me. I head over to the pool; the lights are dim but I can see this thing looking back at me. It's huge, close to the size of a bear standing on its back legs. The body is a dead grey with a disgusting red slime bubbling up from its hand. Wait. My hand? No, no this can't be me! How could this even happen? I can't be this monster; Mama could help me! I just have to find a way to talk to her. Behind me I hear A gun cocking; Mama has the shotgun! She's pointing it right at me! I try to yell to her but it comes out as a gurgling gross noise that doesn't mean anything.


                                                             ***


On the ground I feel my body changing; it's shrinking. All of the monster that was in me, that made me look and feel horrible, is bleeding away. Mama has always been a great shot, got me good. I don't blame her though; she was scared. Mama watches me return to my normal shape and size. She scream worse than before and rushes to my side. Grams is not far behind her. They sit on either side of me then drown me in their tears and apologies. I can't feel the pain anymore; I'm starting to feel cold while I feel the edges of darkness creeping close. I look at Mama and Grams, to forgive them. 

Read next: Occam's Razor
Moose Zamoravich
Moose Zamoravich

I've got a lot of interests. But I've got good news and good news. You'll never get anything less than strange and nothing more than I can do during my disappointingly short window of inspiration. Have fun.

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Plant the Seeds of Evil
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Occam's Razor