It was what felt like the worst day of Jack Hamilton’s life. That was until he stumbled up to his front porch and found another dead body lying there. This time, it really pissed him off.
“Another one?” he whispered under his breath.
He swallowed hard, still tasting the sting of whiskey. Jack kept a bottle of cheap whiskey under the seat of his truck. It was convenient; and it complemented his new found drinking habit.
The dead body didn’t piss him off, it was the fact that it was still daylight out. What if a kid saw this mess? Or a cop? How do you explain to a cop that a demon lives under your house and has a compulsion to mangle people? Top that off with sour whiskey breath and Jack could find himself spending a lot of time in jail.
And then the bodies would really pile up.
Jack hurried and opened the door to the house. He grabbed the mangled remains of what used to be a persons hand and pulled it into the house. Just as the tips of the toes crossed the doorframe, the door slammed shut.
The house smelled of dust and mold. Half the lights didn’t work and Jack never had to urge to change them. He wasn’t sure how electricity and running water was available to the house as it wasn’t Jack’s house.
It was the demon’s house. And it was all part of the deal.
A while back, actually it was winter, Jack found himself almost frozen to death on a park bench in the middle of January. He decided just before what could have been his last breath to walk. Coming down an empty sidewalk he heard a voice. But the voice wasn’t outside but rather in his mind. A minute later he was inside the house. The demon that seemed to overtake his mind explained what Jack called “the rules”.
Jack could live in the house as long as he cleaned up the bodies that demon consumed. It sounds a little crazy, but Jack would have died that night if it weren’t for the demon.
Jack’s job was to take the remains and bury them in the basement. It was a dirt floor basement and each time Jack placed a body there, it disappeared. He assumed that the demon killed the victim and left it on the front step like a cat does with a bird. Once buried, Jack would go upstairs to sleep. The investment in whiskey was needed after the first time he heard the demon eat the body.
The whiskey also kept the demon at bay inside Jack’s mind. Outside the house, Jack was free. But at the start of the sidewalk that led to the house, the demon entered his mind. Most of the time, the demon was quiet. It was the notion of the demon being there that bothered Jack.
Jack stumbled away from the body and walked into the kitchen. He tore open a cabinet and found a fresh bottle of whiskey. Over the passing months, he learned how to open the bottle using one hand. His thumb would twist of the cap and clank to the floor.
“It’s still light out,” he murmured. “You’re gonna get me in big trouble.”
The demon spoke. It wasn’t an evil sound as one might expect. It wasn’t high pitched either. It was just a voice.
“I feed when I feed.”
The voice began repeating itself. The demon often did this. Jack began to drink the whiskey heavily. The pain of his throat burning wasn’t nearly as bad as the demon repeating the line over and over. Each time the demon said it, Jack swore he could feel the demon moving around his body. One time, he felt his heart beat in unison with the words. The next, he legs shook with the words.
A minute later, the bottle was empty and the voice was gone. Jack smiled and threw the bottle against the wall. Glass shattered atop of the fresh corpse. He turned back to face the kitchen and slid on a small puddle of whiskey and spit that had formed under him. Tired and drunk, Jack fell to floor. His head hit the counter on the way down and it knocked him out cold.
Jack regained consciousness in darkness. He was no longer in the kitchen, but in bed.
The body, he thought. I didn’t finish the job.
“I need to feed.”
Jack blinked and slowly the demon formed around him. Small hands stuck of out the apparition and red eyes glowed at Jack. A mouth of fangs somehow glistened even though there wasn’t any light. Each fang got longer and sharper as the demon’s mouth opened. Jack closed his eyes, preparing for the worst.
He hadn’t followed the rules.
When Jack opened his eyes again, the demon was gone. It was still dark and he wasn’t in bed anymore. He was on a hard surface. He felt cold. Just as he was about to turn his head, he felt something grab his legs. Slowly he was pulled into his own house. Jack tried to scream. He tried to kick. But he couldn’t. He shifted his eyes down and saw that his body was mangled almost into pieces. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed since he was in bed.
“Another body?” he heard a voice say.
Jack moved his eyes up and saw a man hovering over him as was guided step by step down into the basement.
Once the dirt covered Jack’s face everything became dark for good as the demon rustled up from underneath him and came out to feed.
___
©2009 Jim Wisneski
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Tags: Jim Wisneski
June 14th, 2009 at 8:42 am
Nice creepy story Jim!
June 14th, 2009 at 3:14 pm
It’s amazing what we’ll do to keep a roof over our head. Some people drive buses, some wait tables, others bury corpses to be devoured by gluttonous demons. Very nice, I enjoyed reading this.
June 16th, 2009 at 4:50 pm
great story! nice writing-way to go!
July 29th, 2009 at 12:26 am
creepy but in a really good way!
September 10th, 2009 at 2:46 am
very sweet I was totally into the creepy story very cool imagination at that Touche.