Bogleech.com's 2015 Horror Write-off:
Did I Give You Permission to Run?
By Marcus Hardges a.k.a Dr Slothammer
Chapter 1: Feed Me...then release me.
Fall 2005 2:14 am
Misty crept into her refrigerator - slowly at first; placing her smooth poultice on the cold, dank plexiglass shelf and trying to entomb herself as a makeshift neon skeleton. She was unable to close the door; her knee banging the condiments door as she slid her hand further inwards, chipping a nail against a can of Sprite. She swungs her head around like a wrecking ball, purring erratically as her skull slamed into a rollercoaster of crock pots and tea jugs. Her shoulder length aquamarine colored hair was beginning to revert back to its caramel-blonde roots as it tussled in front of her like warring vipers at the Alamo. She let out a giddy squeal and then a series of unnaturally deep grunts as she reached the back end of the illuminated food tomb. She eyed the wall with overzealous abandon; biting her lip until it bled whilst simultaneously assuming a sitting fetal position. As she rocked back and forth in her arctic limousine interior, tears streamed down her cheek and she muttered in a lisp to the thermometer gods "Some of us? Some of us? But why?" In between sobs she grabbed the tip of her duct tape covered tounge and removed the tape, revealing a purple blotchy bitten mass. She bit down hard as the door slammed shut.
Her cavernous Frigidaire Valhalla was constructed exclusively to fit her entire body. Her husband Mike "Shaq" Gristler knew it was her childhood dream to be stuffed deep inside the recesses of a refrigerator. "Thats why I married her", he thought - eyelids heavy and sluggish in his dimly lit pillow shuffle. Rubbing his feet together, Mike looked around the moonlit bedroom and tuned in to the clattering coming from at the opposite end of the house. "Its freezing in here", he thinks. The yellow kayak oar relaxed behind the door like a fat sliver of honey-baked giraffe meat.
"We need to go rafting again...I miss normal - I miss my little boy."
Defeated, Mike slid like a bubble back into dreamland – hoping to hold off the approaching nightmare just a little longer...
Mike is up before the alarm. 6:59. Both his bare feet slap against the wood grain floor. He pounds it, dashing out of the bedroom and through the hallway. Sliding to a stop 3/4ths of the way to grab the chimney bellows from behind the grandfather clock in the dining hall before recovering his sprint. The house is long – his legs are longer. The kitchen light at the end of the tunnel is quickly coming into full view. The sound resembled an ear shattering barrel of underground fireworks. He dosen't even have time to register the carnage.
The marble floor is hot upon entrance and directly to his left the wall-sized refrigerator door is wide open; his wife is flying like a windblown flag in front of the strobe-like vortex with a massive spike-furred arm the size of a couch locked on her spindly wrists!
Mike swung the bellows around to combat the monstrosity but as even as a grown adult he was frozen in absolute fear. He had never seen it this close, and every part of it screamed "not from this reality". Its roar was like a carnival of screams; driving into Mike's ears from unnatural directions like a runaway truck. Its alien-simian hair would "shimmer" like a cartoon.
This 'gorilla-beast' had enormous grapefruit sized lidless staring eyeballs in a full angry unrelenting stare. It began forcing its oversized face through the cabin space – staring dead-on at Mike whilst pulling his wife into the evil. The vortex behind the beast was a dark, uneasy green and the high velocity rush of air in the fridge pushed both outwards and inwards simultaneously leaving the room in an awkward Broadway climax level of astonishment with appliances sparking and silverware spiraling in the air with water and blood. Mike and the beast tugged fiercely at Misty's limbs. It roared and the sink erupted in pipe-busting geyser and Mike's funny bones both scream in an awful, shocking pain, forcing his grip loose even more as beast gave a mighty tug, forcing Misty even closer to his gaping shimmering maw.
"Misty!" He yell-grunted. "Give her back!".
The gorilla-beast swiftly denied Mike's request by cracking Misty's arm and forcing her head inside it's strobe light mouth as it bites down with one canine sinking in from the back of her skull and the lower one sinking into her eye.
Her melting electronic scream was disturbing enough to wake the dead.
"Jesus Christ! Misty hold on!"
Mike fiercely did a 360 - turning to grab the bellows and squeeze in one swft motion just as he came back around to face the beast. A thick green gas whooshed into the beast's face as it dipped back into the portal with a roar that sounded like a large angry yawning tree.
The door slapped shut and the entire house bobbed up and down like a buoy, as the two hunched together as a timid lump in the middle of the filthstained checkerboard floor. A thick and confident percussion emenated from the hallway. Mike could barely budge from Misty's mortified grip, but he leaned to his left and saw down the hall- a large red feathery humanoid on all fours with an oversized sweaty, out-of-breath smiling baby head - gunning straight for them; each limb landing rapidly with a loud crash sounding like a trash compactor playing hopscotch. Mike crawled towards the door trying to slide it close as the creature rushed in a last ditch attempt - slamming into the mahogany with a loud banging smash!
The outline of the door glowed red as Misty coughed up blood and slumped over, racked in unspeakable pain. Her body started shimmering as the blood from her mangled eye socket hit the ground in a thin black stream. Standing over her in shock and denial, Mike looked at his mangled shell of a wife and almost choked back a lung. As he bends to touch her face, he felt an ominous presence suddenly send a chilling ring of tingles around his neck. Some upright thing resembeling an orange spiky shadow person in his peripheral moved towards him whilst hissing like a snake. Mike was hit with a cloud of immense paranoia as he couldn't properly lock onto it with his forward vison alone; it remained in the periperal as he felt it barrelling down on him like a murderous fog. The hissing was now but a hairs width from the eardrum, and he was sweating bathtubs as his eyes gallop in darting panic from the bedazzling tyrant. It passed through him like a buzzsaw, sapping his strength and forcing him to kneel. It should have killed him, but if not him then who...
Misty looked up from her slump with an orange portal where her eye used to be - her open mouth now shimmering like an escalator on uppers as a large crack of thunder split the sky and she was slashed by two consecutive strikes of lightning that boomed straight through the roof! The lightbulbs in the ceiling fan popped leaving only a stray orange ray of early sun to entertain the slaughter. A 9 foot tall pitch black greyhound-esque being encircled the corridor of grass just outside the kitchen window, giggling like a tickled mortician as it eyed it's prey; with breath curdling the air and blackening the grass.
The glowing mahogany door flew open as a bone-melting surge of evil careened from the hallway where the crawling baby had repurposed itself into an entirely new avatar of evil. Its face, a frightening visage of Mike's dead son, now blocked the door: its head like a giant balloon stuffing the hallway to its brink; its voice so loud and warped as if it's soul had gotten jammed in the gears of hell. The house shaking like a tossed salad. Dinner plates began oozing out of the cabinets like porcelain slime. The hellhound busted through the window like a black velvet wrecking ball and it immediately sunks its teeth clean through Misty's hip bone – ragdolling her as it's paws warped into lobster talons and started flaying the flesh from her bones. The fridge door blew open as the hotly staring gorilla-beast extended its arm all the way across the kitchen and touched Mike's chest with an icy bone finger like the angel of death.
Mike's heart leapt out of his chest like the last helicopter out of Saigon.
His scream was only a strained wheeze. As he collapsed into shock – unable to process the ocean of horror sloshing around him. The loud smack of his head against the marble floor deadened his hearing and – now as little more than a deflated windsock, he lied there with one eye open as the monstrous evil devoured his wife. The giant baby abomination's unholy whinnying the last thing he remembers before blackout.
Chapter 2: Rejoice and offer tithe.
Winter 2005: 8:31 a.m.
Leave a message after the tone.
"Hey Mike, its me Chevy. Hey man after I finish my run I'm stopping by with some flowers. I got some Gyros with the sour sauce. I'm coming over for a stop. Its been too long. Ya gotta get some food in ya. "
Mike opened the door to a lanky cheeky figure on the phone, clad in a post office hat, loose mail bag, winter coat and bright orange rain boots....
"Poor sap lost his testicles in a lawn sprinkler! I mean – how does that even happen man? I can't even..."
Mike sunk into the recliner like a hermit crab, eying the window. The gentle caress of depression whittling him down to a mute nub.
"The wakes in 30 minutes. Are you sure you're up to this mate?"
Mike let out a long breath and held the family portrait next to the recliner.
"She was never the same after our son. She's Irish , I'm Morrocan. Our son was albino. Isn't that strange? I mean white as a paper towel, totally pale. We had to bury him twice. I mean what the hell. I told Misty, I said 'Babe you tell me what you want and I'll do it at this point because I literally cant do it.' Scary as shit. I mean I still get the shakes just talking about it here in the middle of the day. And now she's gone."
Chevy dropped the yellow kayak oar on Mike's lap.
"You'll at least have her spirit mate."
The van clanked and rumbled to life as the two headed off to the cathedral - the MIKNMSTY liscence plate gleamed softly in the cold air.
The cathedral was built like a God's personal vault. 60 rows of thick seated indigo velvet pews flanked by glorious window art. In the middle, a stained glass masterpiece the size of a two-story house. The pastor and 3 choir boys (standing in line-height like Goldilock's 3 bears) bowed their heads as Mike and Chevy took a seat at the second row of pews to the right. The organist chimed in as the usher closed the doors behind them all. At the front row, Misty's mother and grandmother, huddled in tears. The mother reared her head to eye Mike and Chevy and then sobbed even louder.
As they all sat for the procedings, 4 tall pale tuxedo clad pallbearers came out from behind the back door. Their eyes glazed, they all grabbed the casket in unison. A lithe crackle of black lightning swished out of the casket, forcing the pallbearers' bodies to squeeze together like a paper fan – to the point that they resembled four stiff white pillars. A loud unnerving quartet of arm joints popping out of their sockets ran in sync with a loud rush of howling indoor wind. They then eerily began to fuse with the casket – resembling a sort of massive psuedo-spider golem. The lumbering structure began its clumsy drunken crabwalk for approximately four steps – until bumping into the first pew. With the speed of a spooked falcon, it suddenly leapt 80 feet up and clung to the ceiling. Lights began fickering and the congregation was lost in gasps and frightened yelling. The organist, slumped behind the organ, eyes bulging in a mix of shock, fear and amazement at what he was seeing. Thick shadows flew in from seemingly nowhere and grabbed him, dragging him screaming into the wall. The temperature dropped tremendously as the candles roared into a unison of bluish torches as a creeping orange flame simmered underneath. Everyone ducked in the cornfield of pews. The usher ran back towards the front door screaming for his very life. The knob was scalding hot and his hard grip burnt his hand to a thick crust. He let out a howl but fell through the floor....and strangely down through the ceiling as a hangman! The middle choir boy decided such evil possessed only one remedy. Reaching into a pew cubby, he ripped out a bible page and lashed the villain with a shakily yodeled verse from Ephesians. The casket screeched in pain and hawked a large purple ball of fire blazing towards the boy sending 4 rows of splintered pews and charred guts flying in all directions.
The pastor, clearly in shellshock, ran hands-on-ears screaming towards the podium where the wine chalice stood. The casket veered in the direction of his screaming and intercepted his panic with a voluminous spray of acid through his heart. The thick black bubbles sent his upper neck and head avalanching off his body and falling into the chalice with a disgusting 'plunk'.
What can only be described as an infernal gargantuan electric shrimp head emerged from the chalice. A kind of soul sucking noise jutted out of it like a jet engine – its tendrils whipping through the rotting air like rabid leech necks. It's unholy neon blue color caused the frontal pews to twist into pitch black gnarled branches bursting into a mass of dazzling green fire. It stabbed the pastor's corpse with its pitch black javelin-like branch arms as the casket walked behind it – then under it, conjoining like a centaur!
This unclean symphony was met with even more debris and blood spinning in cyclonic force over the darkening sanctum. Everyone ducked and braced as it sounded like a train was passing directly over their heads. The electric casket demon's force was so compelling it was hard to even keep sight of it as the air around took on a completely ugly and wavering light. The green flame stretched upwards - past the hung usher - and spread across the ceiling. The paint immediately began peeling off the walls in large ice cream scoop crests, as all the doors bust into flame. Pieces of the roof began to cave in as a huge thick portal appears with an uneasy green color that Mike remembered all too fondly....
Those eyes! The gorilla-beast from the kitchen returned, with its large beach ball sized eyes staring at a curled up Mike like an overwhelmingly outraged god. It's entire lower jaw now sported giant puffy spider chelicera with curved black fangs as long as upside-down elephant tusks. It leapt down from the portal; its body possessing only overlong bone arms and a skeleton cut off at the spine. It landed on both hands, towering over the electric casket like a dinosaur, spewing forth a white noxious gas from its mouth into the chaos on the ground and then leaping back up into the portal head-first as quickly as it came.
The mist on the floor gaves rise to three 'swans' made of roach armor with tiny stumbling single bladed butcher knife 'feet'. The tallest choir boy couldn't take any more and turned to run back down the aisle, yelling in a weary Scottish accent "May God be with you all" in a limping run for the door. With unnerving speed, the swanroaches dashed with a 'tink, tink, tink' behind their wounded prey. Levelheaded, the choir boy wrapped the bible around the doorknob like an oven mitt and it opened right up...
...to the sphenoid bone of God.
A rush of wind sucked him into what should have been the church's rear narthex, instead appeared to be an impossible room from a different dimension. Within this oddly lit decrepit barn room, the boy let out a bonecurdling scream as an oversized and indescribable juggernaut suddenly just appeared in front of him without warning. An IMAX sized floating facsimile of a tattered elephant skull with four flat bronze 'trumpets' pressed against its face like wilted leaves in the flare of a motorcycle exhaust. Its 'ears', a pale and pastel bismuth fungus-like psuedo-halo, with larger green tendrils extending out and down like a wet mane. The neck a veiny phallic chitinous nightmare rollercoaster, and the trunk a large surreal blue leech shaped lung that appears to fade in and out of existence to 'breathe'. The supercreature stared straight ahead with large, caiman-esque eyes and a small dying psuedo-eye starfish ball in it's nasal cavity.
Its released a soft rainbow colored gas as the choir boy felt a peaceful rippling in his overalls. He felt an almost seductive caressing of his internal organs as a gentle tactile cloud sinewed through his body. His every bone snapping below the waist, he lets out a sharp cry of pain, which the supercreature mimicked as best it can with a warble. Another shower of soft gas. The boy's brain was crawling with white-hot pleasure. He moaned a scream as his mouth oozed blood and his eyes shed tears of uncomfortable ecstacy. Crying softly, his heart was gently plucked from inside his chest by the melting God. He yell-choked and weakly punched the air. As pitch black 12ft tall translucent furry siege engines with glowing green eyes and beak-like chelicera rolled out from behind the supercreature and tapped the boy's skull, slowly liquifying his marrow and lapping up the remains via bellybutton. The newly fed supercreature blasted blood from its trumpets like a hydrant in vanishing celebration.
Back in the sanctuary, the swanroaches took flight, spreading a burning dust from their wings. One of them managed to jab the smallest choir boy in the neck with its foot spike. His prepubescent squeals fanned the flames of the grandmother who decided she had enough of the over-the-top blasphemy.
"Lord in heaven..."
She whispers, unsheathing a sawed off shotgun from underneath her girdle.
"...burn in hell."
Three shots hit two of the three roachswans, sending a flurry of chitin and fangs flying about! She tosses the shotgun to her daughter and slides a pistol out of her sock.
The electric casket sensing rebellion opened a portal off to the side whereas a futuristic walking fish creature contained within seemed shocked at what it was seeing. It reflexively stabbed its spear through Misty's mother like a kabob and pulled her in closing the portal instantaneously.
The hangman began to throb and pustle as some parasitical creature resembling an oversized white leech started pumping out of its sunken skull. The rest of the hung corpse started nonchalantly walking in place!
The electric casket held the impaled pastor's head upwards like Simba – awaiting the hangspawn to fall atop it. A single white drop falls hit the pastors head which immediately turned pitch black and was accompanied by a demonic roaring as thick hands desperately grabbed through the walls and thunderclouds appeared around the casket.
The grandmother, out of bullets, pistol whipped the last swanroach as it went down whilst relentlessly stabbing her. Exhausted and with burning eyes she turned to Mike:
"Dont let that bastard get my babies."
Mike rushed to the kayak oar and tossed it to Chevy as he tried to make a distraction to let Chevy focus his shot. The electric casket eyed Mike and hurled a silver ring at him that crushed every bone in his right leg. The pain was immense but he leaned on the twisted pews ducking the aerial debris and grabbed a bible as the two eyed each other for just a brief second - just as Chevy lets it fly...
The oar was cast with enough precision to make Moby Dick jealous.
Suprisingly, the casket immediately fell to the ground and popped open. The entire falling hangspawn hit the ground and lit into purple embers. The cavernous sanctum fell into the strangest of calms with the ambience of the blue candle jets and the hard pale sunlight peeking between dark clouds.
Mike we really got that thing!"
The giant stained glass began to rustle and clatter. As quick as you could register it, in one fell swoop the entire mosaic flew downward as a jagged winged reaper – cutting through Chevy like tissue paper at the head with its long mantis like bladed arms. Chevy stood there as the strike was so fast his body didn't even register the pain – just a simple bloody gurgle as his head slowly slid down his neck like a Xerox light.
With the last of his strength, Mike hobbled-dashed for the open casket and hopped in, closing it behind him. The cold grey hunk of wife meat was smooth to the touch. The memory of Misty was all Mike could think about as he rolled on his belly, teary eyed, biting the fluffy casket fabric with his teeth and using his arm to press the bible between himself and the inner wall. He braced as the casket bucked like a deranged bull. The nausea was too much for Mike to take and he slipped out as the casket became completely unstable.
"MOSSST OF USSSS!" It demonically bellowed; launching itself like a rocket, crashing through the window and immediately combusting into flame in the pale winter sun.
A drizzle of miscellaneous corpse debris and wet ash washed amongst the congregation like an everlasting surf.
Mike stumbled to the ground amongst glass and blood, covered in hot spittle and drywall powder – his tears as big as balloons as he saw his disembodied friend
"Oh God not like this. Why?"
The hum of lingering evil like a hot blade sizzling the fine hairs of his ear, Mike curled into an empty ball of shellshock and disbelief. A fossil, he faded into the solitude of the approaching despair.
Chapter 3: The sky has maximum overload
Spring 2006 10:03 am
The kite soared in the sky long enough for Mike to dry his tearful memories. A bright green diamond shape with two long yellow ribbons hanging down like angel hair - grooving in the sunny breeze. Mike would spool it in and it would kiss him and then whoosh back up - how cute! It was such a personal escape from his PSTD and his suffocating apartment downtown. He felt like a normal member of society again; even getting used to the walking cane didn't feel as good as this flight.
To top it all off, here comes the park pelicans and it looks like a fat gob of bread is just what the doctor ordered.
"Alright guys this is all I got"
The big goofy pelicans tussled over the last hunk of cinnamon roll. Mike was grinning ear to ear whilst shying his leg away from their hungry avian jowls. The lake water reflection was awfully bright.
The kite sauntered lower and lower. It's two long lemon ribbons dangled down from the emerald fabric - gently tickling Mike's hair as they sleepily settled on his shoulder like a masseuse's hands. The pelicans began snapping just a bit more at their carbohydratic benefactor. One did a power lunge as feathers flew and and dazzle of squawks started to overwhelm.
Out of the corner of his eye, Mike could've sworn he saw one of the grounded pelicans 'smile'. Falling backwards in a screaming stupor, he felt his face drain of all color and a dull knock of sweaty panic roll over him. With his ankle sprained, he grabbed his cane and struggled slowly to regain a kneeling composure.
A large grey shadow coated the park in dreariness as clouds obscured the sun.
A lone pelican waddled up to the hobbled Mike and stopped halfway; its head cocked unnaturally to the side.
"Not again - Jesus not again!"
Mike scrambled into the water, but to his surprise it is thick and and it would not let him sink and left only his head exposed. The pelican's head plopped off and rolled into the water where it slowly floated up to Mike's helpless body. It opened up like a cobra and began to shake violently. The sky blackened to match the dark water. A giant dark gray mass rose out of the water like the bust of a decomposing Lady Liberty; the skin grisly and ripped up, the seaweed hair, the face warped near beyond recognition with large velvet black eyes that gave no reflection and an overly wide nutcracker-like mouth with yellow zipper teeth.
The feathery cobra-head stopped shaking, opened its mouth and blurted in Mike's ear, a soft and irresistibly giddy:
"HHH- HH - Hi there!"
Mike screamed loud enough to scare the birds out of the trees as he thrashed about in the murky void like cold fat on a hot stove! His manic commotion accidentally stirred up another underwater denizen as a large rough chassis brushed against him, freezing him in fear. An awesome sized creature with fanged jaws roughly the size of a school bus, crushing his body in a griddle clamp . He looked down to see what appeared to be a large baby's head with red eyes and an exaggerated mouth full of teeth. Exhausted with fear, Mike whimpered in torture as the gargantuan jowls nabbed at him in tasteless leisure – shifting his position in the water as he started to sink. His heart beating out of his neck, he began to feel an oncoming stroke and could only stare as his body threw itself into silent panic. A giant claymation, jawless white snake broke out of the Misty corpse and, with human eyes, glared at Mike with the most unnerving damnation as he was pulled straight down in the eerily translucent depths as the white snake followed with a cartoony grin.
Beneath the liquid void, smooth curtains of light drafted down in timid rapture. What Mike could make of his captives was haunting. He saw the white snake now downed in a wolf-like fur gliding down to eyeball him face to face The snake opened it's mouth and revealed a giant wasp with a sword-like stinger the length of a no. 2 pencil wriggling angrily within it's forked lasso. Mike could hear the curled lips of a demon gurgling in his ear as the wasp's phallic thrusting became near sexual. He opened his mouth and launched a curtain of bubbles up past his eyes and hair right before he felt the long hot saber fling up through his nose and into his brain with rapid shanks.
The blackout lasted out for what felt like a lifetime and Mike found himself on the grass, sprawled out and waterlogged. His vision, came back into focus, gave sight to only one presence. Hovering over him like the glowing face of a menacing bull elephant, one ribbon arm driven deep into his shoulder, the other arm clasped around the neck....the kite.
The kite teased him – letting his toes tickle the grass only to snatch it away until his head resembled a red fishbowl - legs motioning a run whilst suspended in the air. It levitated a bit higher. All of the fiery kicking and gurgling soon smothered in the delicate caress of death.
It entered the upper atmosphere as lithe as a nylon moccasin. Loud whooshing beeps of simulated children's laughter jutted out from vents in its aerodynamic wingspan. As it breached the roof of clouds, it warped shape; taking on a bright orange color whilst puffing up the fresh corpse like a windsock as it slowly digested it at a level cruise altitude.
From the ground below on the far side of the park, an old man sat with his back turned to the silent carnage. Since the early morning he heard he distant shouting of kids and dogs. The silence was eerie now that he noticed it, and the buzz of the orange banner plane in the sky did nothing but exacerbate that. A glance at his watch shows a stern 3:05. The park empty at 3:05? On a Saturday?
He winced resignedly, and - at a turtles pace - gingerly rounds up his supplies and hat. The pond is an uneasy shade of green today. "Not like most days", he thinks to himself, as he turns to leave.
The walk across the long greenspan is slow and laborious. The sun is still. The grass is low. The heat simmers and murmurs.
A lone kite waits nestled in a tree near the only truck in the parking lot.