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HAVE YOU EVER SEEN THE DEVIL? By T.A. Branom

Tuesday, November 29th, 2011

Have you ever seen the devil?  I mean, actually stared into his eyes; stood face-to-face with him?

I have.

He’s a scowling, snarling, slobbering creature.  His brow furrows deep and his eyes glaze over with frigid abhorrence as he claws at you–grabs you.  Although you think his touch would be like ice, it isn’t.  It’s hot…hot like the sun burning your bare skin on a 115 degree desert summer day.

You will try to turn and run.  I did.  But, you won’t get away.  He’ll pounce on you faster than a cat on acid.  His arms are abnormally strong, at least I thought they were as one wrapped around my neck.

At first, his voice growls low in your ear.  “Is this what you want?”

Then he roars.  “IS THIS WHAT YOU WANT?”

You will be compelled to answer, but you can’t.  He’s already cutting off your air with his massive arm.  You will slump to the floor, all the while you will be wondering, “Why?”

“What have I done to deserve this?”

And, you know, the truth is, there is no answer.  You probably didn’t do anything.  I am certain I didn’t.  It simply happens.  You may think you garnered too much attention from the wrong person.

Nope.

You may think you said or did the wrong thing that brought about this evilness. 

Nope.

In fact, if you ask the devil what you did, he will most likely shake his head and say, “I don’t know.”  Maybe, just maybe, he will have an answer for you.  Perhaps one of the reasons I stated or something that astonishes you because you didn’t think a thing about it at the time, something senseless.  Nonetheless, in one fell swoop, he will strip away your life and make you puke out your soul.  Honestly, you will never be the same once the devil touches you.  I swear this is true.  The devil has assaulted me on more than one occasion.

Oddly, he always shows up when I’m happy, never when I’m sad or depressed.  Personally, I think he likes shock and awe tactics.  It leaves his victims more vulnerable; more open to defeat.

“Happy, huh?  Well, not for long!”

He typically appears at night as a shadowy form down your dark hallway.  The glint of his eyes will capture you.  His sagging mouth will hold you prisoner as it arcs into a sneer that broadens to almost cut his face in half.  Like I said before, you will try to run, but you can’t.  Your legs will root to your floor.  You won’t believe what is coming after you.  You won’t believe that arm can do that to you.

After all, you know the devil.  You know those eyes and the curve of those lips.  His face manifests from the face of someone else…someone filled with hatred that you never knew they possessed.

It’s the person you love the most.  Your significant other.  Your spouse.

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©2011 T.A. Branom 

T. A. Branom is a freelance writer living and working in the breathtaking Columbia River Gorge in Washington State and has been published in print and online venues including Flashes in the Dark, The Molotov Cocktail, Fictitious Magazine, and various Static Movement anthologies.  She’s also a columnist for Unexplained Mysteries. 

Visit her website http://www.home.earthlink.net/~branom201/.

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SLOWLY THEY COME: By Michael A. Kechula

Tuesday, November 29th, 2011

When zombie hordes invaded, we fled to the forest.

“What will we do?” my sobbing wife asked.

“I don’t know. Did you grab some food when we ran from the house?”

“Just this,” she said, extending a slice of bread.

“You eat it,” I said.

“No, we’ll share it.  Do you want your half now?”

Though hungry, I declined. I’d save it for the morning.  Dammit. How the hell am I gonna make it tomorrow on half-a-slice of bread?

“It’s getting cold,” Lisa said.  “I wish we could make a fire.”

“It’d only help those bastards to find us. Did you see all that slimy grey muck flowing from their mouths? Can you see yourself being covered with that as one of them is about to bite your skull open to get at your brains?”

“Don’t remind me. It’s bad enough I saw our neighbor’s brains being eaten by those monsters. I hope I don’t have nightmares about it. Dammit! I only have three sleeping pills. I don’t know how I’ll be able to make it through the night once they’re gone.”

Then she screamed.

Afraid the zombies would hear her, I punched her to shut her up.

Can’t let myself feel guilty. I gotta hang on. If we’re gonna survive for even a few days, I gotta have a clear mind. But I’m so tired after running for miles. Half the time I had to carry her, pull her, push her. I don’t know how long we can last. No food. No water. Don’t know where we can get any. Ain’t even sure where we are.

I musta hit her pretty hard. Well, I did her a favor. At least her mind was peaceful for a while.

She woke. Rubbing her jar, she asked, “What happened?”

“You got dizzy and fell over. Before I could catch you, your face hit that boulder.”

“It hurts. I wish I had some water to take aspirins. Oh, Frank, what are we gonna do?”

“We’re gonna keep moving. Thank goodness zombies walk so slowly.”

When I said that, I heard feet crunching autumn leaves.

“Let’s get the hell outta here,” I whispered. “Damn things got here faster than I expected.”

We ran until we fell to the ground exhausted.

“I see a cave,” I said. “Soon as you catch your breath, we’ll climb up the hill and hide there.”

Inside the cave, we spoke in hushed voices. I figured we had a few hours before the zombies would reach us. Enough time to get some rest, then start running again.

We talked a while longer about how we might find food. Next thing I knew, it was dawn. I ate my crackers, then woke her.

We fast-walked all day through the forest. Fortunately, we found a brook. Might have been contaminated, but we didn’t care. We also found blueberry bushes. We ate like hogs.

When we reached the edge of the forest, Lisa said, “Look, there’s a barn! Maybe we can hide there. Let’s hope it stinks real bad inside. Might be strong enough to keep the zombies away.”

Approaching the barn, we noticed the stench of horse manure. We figured it was so overwhelming it’d hide our body odor, though we weren’t sure if zombies could smell human flesh from a distance.

“Look at the beautiful horses,” Lisa said, as we flopped onto a pile of hay.

Just as we were getting comfortable, one of the horses reached up with its hooves and pulled it’s head off. Inside was a zombie. Growling, the monster headed toward us.

Lisa tripped. Before I realized it, the damn thing pounced on her. The sickening sounds of skull crunching filled the barn. Enraged, I grabbed a pitchfork and rammed it into the zombies face. But it was too late. Lisa’s brains were spilled on the ground.

I raced for the door and ran until my chest burned.

My depression knew no bounds. I’d lost my wife to a freakin zombie.

I wondered how many others had lost loved ones. Then I realized the zombies were really doing us a favor. The world was over populated. Massive numbers of people were contributing to global warming. The more I thought about it, the more I realized zombies were heroes. They were like sharks, who cleansed oceans by eating everything they encountered. Though zombies ate only human brains, that meant they had more discriminating tastes than great whites.

Nevertheless, I didn’t want to die, so I kept running. 

After some sleep, I felt better. Especially since I realized that I might be able to file an insurance claim declaring my wife died accidentally. That would be a situation of double-indemnity, meaning I’d collect $200,000 instead of $100,000.

Come to think of it, Lisa was a lousy cook. And the house was always dirty. Worse, she brought home a small paycheck. The more I thought about it, the more I realized the zombies did me a favor.

I wondered if any of them could read. If so, when things returned to normal, I’d sent them a thank you card and include a donation for their favorite charity.  

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©2011 Michael A. Kechula

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