Chapter 13: Not Everyone’s Perfect, Just Close

“They say that before time began, darkness ruled everything,” Sofia said in a deep voice. My legs began to shake. I hate haunted houses. Why did Char drag me in here? She knows I hate them. Someone bumped me and giggled. I grabbed Char for support, but she smelled different, more earthy, and didn’t have breasts, and a guy chuckled and said, “You’re nice and warm.”

I stumbled backward and bumped a lady, who screamed. The silence lingered as I shivered between people, lost, alone, with monsters, costumed people dressed as monsters, I hope, because a real monster would love Halloween, they didn’t need to dress up, and they could eat little girls like me, and no one would know. They could use the dark to snatch little girls away, like the hookman that used to cause me to pee the bed, or monsterface, who lived under my bed. They didn’t exist, but what if they did? What if they just needed a dark place, like this, to steal people, to eat people, to get me?

“But the darkness grew lonely, so it created a being, of pale, scaly skin, and a blue translucent glow, that had tentacles around its head, and tentacles for arms, and legs, and along its back,” Sofia said, and a dull blue glow appeared above us.

Black shadows withered in front of it. Instead of the light making the space safer, it highlighted the scary monsters around us. I could see dark shapes, but not enough. And the tentacles over the blue. And a shadow near me, behind two shadows, had a monstrous face, like maybe monsterface would have, did have, with whitish yellow teeth, and hair, that stuck out, and too large ears.

My mind screamed, and I spun around to find the door, which I knew they had locked. Ava and Sofia would never do anything bad to me, but what if monsters existed? They would totally sneak in here and steal a person or two. Who would miss them? With the party, their friends would assume that the person just wandered off to make out or have sex with someone. Then they would assume that they went home with that person. Days, weeks, could go by before someone thought to look for them. The monster could eat them at its leisure. Slowly, first the fingers, or toes, then the arms and legs. All the while, the person would scream, and the monster would laugh, because no one could hear, and no one would arrive to save the day. Or worse, maybe the monster would ONLY eat my arms and legs, and leave me alive, to forever remember the fear, unable to do anything, while I waited for the monster to return, but no one would believe me, so it could sneak in and take small bites, until I died of old age, withered, without most of my body, just my head, attached to a machine.

“SOMETHING TOUCHED ME,” a woman screamed. A person beside me laughed, while another cried. The shadows moved, swirled around, teeth, eyes, resolved, twisted, grotesque, horrible, hooks, faces, smiles, fangs, long, thin fingers, claws. I spun, twirled, to see, everything, because monsters sneak, they terrorize, they live off the fear, drink it, savor it.

“I swear, something slimy touched me,” a female said, too calm, with much fear. My legs tingled, but they wouldn’t move. I pleaded, yelled at them, but my feet wouldn’t even lift from the floor. Stuck, like what a spider would do, to trap prey. Me. Trapped. Stuck. To the floor. Without hope. Eyes stared at me. Bluish black. Behind a human face-like thing. Breathes touched my ears. Stale air caressed my cheeks, my lips, as not even my voice worked, silent, I screamed inside, deep, in my bowels, guts. My heart rang in my ears, my hands hurt, clenched, fisted, thoughtless, the eyes had blue-white teeth, flattened, a sneer.

The noise in the small space expanded, people laughed, people cried, and one person, a young girl by her sounds, cried and said, “I don’t want this anymore. Please let me go.” From behind the immense shadow, with too many arms, too many heads, that loomed, stood too tall, over something, someone, small, round, curled, with black hair, dark hair, similar to mine, did the monster know, think, she’s me. A sour smell, a whispered laugh, two shadows fought, heads together, arms around each other, it devoured her.

“The beast, darkness’s friend, wanted play things, things to play with, things to consume when hungry, people to torment,” Sofia said, and small white lights switched on, in the shape of people against the black fabric. While the lights made the space brighter, they also allowed us to see the costumed monsters around us. A wolf. A zombie. A cat. A firefighter. All disguised monsters. All stared at me. Eyes, teeth, more teeth, smiles, ready to eat, ready to take me. I needed my blanket, the one Mom left in New York, that Dad bought special, from a special shop, to keep away the monster, that I knew didn’t exist, unless they did, and the comforter did work, and had kept me safe, all those years, until now, stupid, I waited in the dark, for it, them, to take me, eat me.

The smell of urine rose while silence stilled the group. Fog, smoke, covered the floor, and swirled and misted up to our hips. Things moved in the mist—a land shark. My arms squeezed me. I wanted to hide in the murk. To crumple down, but I may never stand again. Two shadows, one on my left, one on my right, loomed in the darkness with intent, their eyes stared at me with intensity of purpose, as shadowed arms crossed my body, and over my arms as if to hold me or snatch me.

Something, touched, a cold tentacle, up my leg, slimy, like a tongue, it lapped at my pussy, and I screamed, “SOMETHING TOUCHED ME.” People around me stepped away, but I couldn’t move. The slimy tentacle licked me and then stopped. I could still feel its breath on me. I waited for it to pull me down into the mist and devour me. I held my breath. I held my body. It slipped a long, thin tentacle inside me to consume me from the inside, or worse, to implant baby monsters inside me, that would eat me from the inside as they hatched to consume Mom, Fenna, and the whole neighbourhood, like in the movie, with the sexy brunette, who went for a swim, in the wrong lake.

Fear, and the monster, stole my breath, paralyzed my arms and legs, severed the connection between my mind and body, while the thing ate me, impregnated me, forced eggs inside me. Another shadow, taller, lurched towards me, with craws, huge hands that grabbed my chest to hold me while the tentacle monster thrust inside me. Shivers ran up and down my spine. The beast, who held my breasts, clawed at my breasts, smelled of smoke, evil foul smoke, and reeked of sweat, sour awful sweat, and had black soulless eyes that mesmerized my mind and didn’t allow my body to move. The end drew near. I wished to fight. I wanted to have loved Fenna more. I wished Mom and I spent more time together. I just hope that I go to heaven so that I could see Dad again.

“The people lived a short life, long enough to fall in love, before the beast, in its cruel way, would devour, first, their lover, then them,” something that sounded a bit like Sofia said, as the beast lurched away to paw at another shadow’s chest. The tentacle monster slipped out and left me, cold-limbed, warm-bellied, with the seed inside me, already bigger. Would it explode out of my belly, or rip out of my crotch? It pressed on my bladder. It pushed on my stomach. Bile had spilled into my throat. A warm tentacle, slimy, pressed against my ass and left a slimy trail on my leg.

My head pounded as the mist moved higher on my body. I shivered and held myself. Over and over and over, I whispered, “It’s not real.” But what if? Tentacle monster didn’t exist. Monsters didn’t exist. The slime on my leg, just sweat. The other tentacle against my hand, with gross slime on my fingers, didn’t exist, didn’t really exist, just my mind, imagination, too active, Dad always said monsters didn’t exist, and the one under my bed, on that Halloween, Char, in a wolf costume, with Tasha in the closet. Dad laughed while Mom yelled. But the tentacle in my ear, it felt real. And had teeth.

Another scream. Someone near me, a black silhouette, disappeared into the mist. My bladder released, and pee rolled down my right leg, warm, to soak my sock and shoe. It would get me next. Whatever evil that had entered this place. Eva and Sofia had accidentally summoned the beast. They didn’t know what they did. It would consume all of us. The baby inside me, real. It pressed against my bladder, more pee, it pressed against my stomach, more bile, it would eat me alive.

A face, that reminded me of Rebecca, same dark hair, thin body, appeared from the darkness. I whimpered as shocks slammed into the back of my head, which caused pain to radiate around my forehead. What did she want? How did she get in? And she had tentacles for arms. Like the one against my ass. Cold slime. Warm, brutal, tentacle. The smell of urine, mixed with the acid of the monster, pierced my brain, just like when Char and Tasha snuck into my room, slipped under the covers, and licked my legs. At the same time, Mom screamed in the room with Dad, called him her monster, and I peed the bed, all over Char and Tasha, who laughed at my fear, and Dad never came, just comforted Mom, with her wimpers, screams about the beast. We three giggled in bed, but I didn’t really, I pretended, because while I knew monsters didn’t exist, that Dad fucked Mom, that Char and Tasha had licked my legs, that they could exist.

Another black shape appeared behind her. Her father. There, in the garage. They came to kidnap me. To steal me away to use as a sex slave before they cut me into little pieces. No one would know they had done it. They wore costumes and didn’t look like themselves, but I knew. Monsters existed. All the movies show that. Not the beast-faced ones. But humans, like Rebecca, and her Dad. That night with Char and Tasha, while Mom screamed and Dad grunted, I just knew, I knew that monsters, human monsters existed, because the devil, existed, and the devil made evil, horrible things happen, like Dad’s death, and placed evil in the hearts of people like Rebecca, and her Dad, who came to get me.

Maybe if I didn’t move, they wouldn’t recognize me, wouldn’t see me in the darkness and blue and white lights with all the shadows.

Mist, swirled, and the little girl’s cries dampened. Rebecca and her dad stared at me. Their eyes glowed while mist swirled up their bodies. My arms couldn’t squeeze my body hard enough. Where did Char go? Sofia, I could scream for her, or Ava, but I couldn’t breathe, my lungs didn’t work, my voice had run away, smart, I needed to run away, but the mist held my legs, trapped, here with the monsters, Hookman, monsterface, Rebecca, and her dad.

“Full, satisfied, the beast would retreat to its friend, the darkness, to leave the people,” the thing, not Sofia, maybe Rebecca, said. The lights went out. The blue faded until only darkness remained. No one spoke, but a few cried.

I couldn’t see Rebecca or Mark, which made things worse, but maybe better, because if I couldn’t see them, they couldn’t see me. I could feel them creep closer. I could smell Rebecca’s body odor, Mark’s aftershave, and his foul breath. My bladder squeezed out a few more drops as I whimpered and tried to scream, but nothing. My arms refused to release me. My legs refused to move, or something held them.

My breath emerged with a rasp, and liquid tickled my cheeks and wet my lips. I strained to see in the pitch blackness. My sense of touch extended, and I felt the monsters close, the human monsters that did exist. One, with rotten meat breath, stood behind me. Another, with a clawed hand that glowed, stood in front of me. Trapped. Stuck. Nowhere to run, even if I wanted to. And Dad wouldn’t magically appear to save me.

“Until it grew hungry and would return for more souls,” definitely not-Sofia said. The voice didn’t sound like Rebecca, but rather, monsterface, mixed with a thousand billion monsters. The voice cut into my soul, shredded my mind. But in that darkness, with slime on my hand and thigh, and piss on my leg and in my sock, my heart slowed, my mind cleared. I may die. I deserve to die, but first, I will live, I will fight, I will kick the shit out of the monsters, like Rebecca, her father, and all the other evil things. Let them come. Dad watches over me. Fenna loves me. Mom loves me. My friends, all my friends, support me. Something snapped, and I understood what Mom had said the next morning. I hadn’t at the time, but in that moment, in the darkness, with the whimpers around me, the cries, the salty liquid on the face, the slime on my body, maybe even the thing inside me.

“Everyone holds fear; some face it,” Mom said, in her soft voice, as she sipped coffee at our green and silver table, while I held my urine-soaked bedding. At the time, I thought she called me a baby because I had so much fear inside. Because I believed in monsters, because while Char and Tasha laughed at horror movies, I cried, and couldn’t sleep for weeks. But I finally understood. It didn’t matter how much fear I felt, how much fear consumed me. I had focused on the wrong part of her message. Fear is fear. I needed to face it. Stand up to it. Always.

Which I could do.

The door opened, and the mist disappeared. The light led the way out. I ran, and my shoe squeaked with piss. The living room had filled up, and I bumped into people as I gasped for breath.

“You’re such a chicken. That was awesome,” Char said and put her hand on my back. Her one breast hung out, and she smiled like a cat.

“Just claustrophobic, and maybe a little afraid,” I said and hugged Char, happy to have survived.

“You peed yourself, didn’t you, such a baby. My baby,” Char said and stroked my head like a mother with a child.

I hit her and walked to the washroom to clean up. We waited outside the occupied room and drank coolers that Char had grabbed from the kitchen. We talked about New York, about our friends, about everything we had done together. I had missed her, but I also realized that we had a connection, like an invisible thread that would hold us together, no matter what.

When three older men, with cigars and indistinct costumes, walked by us, I pulled Char’s shirt apart to expose her breasts to them. They stopped and stared, while Char pretended to adjust, not adjust her shirt, to put them back in. It didn’t help that I tried to help her and would pinch, hold, squeeze, and re-expose her breasts. They laughed with us. Their wine-scented cigars smelled earthy, sexy even, but a couple of women called them, and they left with compliments.

“Someone has changed,” Char said and gave up on her top. She left her breasts exposed to the leers of others, both male and female.

Finally, the white oak door opened, and three people emerged, two teenage guys that I kinda recognized from school, and an older lady, who stroked Char’s breasts as she passed. I rushed in while Char turned to talk with one of the boys.