Yes, I know it has been a long time since I worked on this (almost three whole months!), but my sister's computer was down for the LONGEST time! So finally, I broke down and got my own. Thanks to all of you who have read and commented on the story. And thanks for your patience. I hope that the ending meets your expectations.
Disclaimer: They are not mine. I wish they were.
Pairing: None! He's too young.
Category: Horror
Rating: PG13 just to be safe.
Summary: A seven-year-old Duo is afraid of the closet monster—with good reason!
Title: Behind Closed Doors Part Four
Author: Yellowhorde
Archive: Yes! Just let me know! My e-mail is yellowhorde@hotmail.com
Status: Finished. At long last!
BEHIND CLOSED DOORS
PART FOUR
…In a black blur of movement, impossibly long arms dripping with unmentionable goo shattered through the wooden door and latched themselves about the slender form of the child. Pinning his arms to his side, covering his mouth before he had time to even draw breath! His eyes bulged in sheer terror as he was yanked up, up and off of his feet and back, back, faster than thought, than sound, than light! Crashing through the supposedly solid door and into the never-ending darkness. Where bright white fangs waited, dripping with saliva and blood, reaching out to engulf him...devour him...
(OH, HELP ME, MOMMY, MOMMY! MOMMEEEEEEEEEEEE....!)
Duo awoke abruptly, a strangled scream, breathy and shrill, ripping from his throat, small fists crammed against his mouth as if to hold back the terror that had flooded through him in those last few panic stricken moments. The acrid smell of his own fear filled his nostrils and cold sweat dripped from his face, drenched his violently trembling body, his sleep tangled sheets; his large violet eyes wildly scanned the confines of his bedroom. There was nothing there except for the trusty nightlight which burned steadily from its socket, it's yellow smiley face diligently standing sentinel against the lurking horde of nighttime creepy crawlies that seemed to forever leer at and threaten the hapless child. Helplessly the boy's eyes were drawn towards the dreaded closet. Fortunately, it was closed, closed tightly, just as it had been when he had gone to bed. He had made sure himself.
"It was a dream," panted the small boy, his head dropping to his heaving chest as relief washed over him, "only a dream…" Drawing in one ragged breath, then another, and finally a third, Duo slowly regained his composure, and ran one slender shaking hand through his hair, whipping away the sweat that dripped into his eyes, stinging.
(I can't take much more of this…)
Suddenly, the brunette boy's head shot up as very faint slithering-scratching sound found it's way softly, stealthily to one pair of small ears. Terror rolled over and through Duo like a cold wave that threatened to suck under his mind, drag him into the dismal abyss that spun and churned like a whirlpool and never let him go. His heart began racing, a knot of apprehension twisting in his tummy. The sound had come from the foot his bed! But that was ridiculous, right? Totally absurd!
(Of course, it was absurd!) His mind screamed, (You didn't hear anything. Nope, nothing at all! That was just your overactive imagination. There is nothing under your bed, you baby! There simply CAN'T be any gross, disgusting creature under your bed. We've been through this a dozen times, already. There are no such things as monsters, no such thing as monsters, no such thing, NO SUCH THING! And besides, even if there WERE monsters, and I'm not saying there are, mind you, BUT… even if there were, you have a NIGHTLIGHT, for Pete's sake! And everyone knows that things that slither and go bump in the night cannot stand light!)
Again, the sound drifted up towards him, just a little louder, and a whole heck of a LOT closer. Instead of staying at the bottom of the bed, (an almost safe distance—almost) it sounded like it was slowly but steadily creeping its way up towards the head of the twin bed. The creature had apparently decided to come and say howdy. And you could bet your last dollar that it wasn't very friendly.
Duo cringed against the oak headboard, small white teeth clamping over his bottom lip, attempting to stifle the moan of terror that wanted to betray him, for to make any noise would surely attract the attention of the beast, and pressed his small cold hands against his mouth, pulling his lips away from his teeth in a lunatic imitation of a grin as the sound came again…right UNDER him!
(No, no, no, no, NO! I did not hear that. No way. That's impossible! No fair! I have a nightlight! No monster can stand in the light! That's against the rules! That's CHEATING!)
Against the rules or not, the sound was heard once more. Just as soft, just as sneaky. But not TOO sneaky, oh no! That would spoil the fun. It wanted to be heard, wanted the fragile, trembling child to know that the shadows moved and slithered, lurked and stalked, waiting for the opportunity to pounce, devour, destroy…It wanted him to be afraid… wanted to feel and taste the waves of terror that flowed off the boy like water from a water fountain. It slurped it up and grinned a jagged toothed grin…all gleaming fangs and slobber.
And Duo was, without a doubt, afraid, but apparently, not enough. Not yet, anyway.
Violet eyes ballooned as the closet door began to slide open with a hellishly loud groaning, taking all the time it needed, all eternity if it so desired, the hinges shrieking small rusty screams. Slowly, slowly the door opened and the nightlight, protector of small children, heroic guard that stood firm against the terrors of the night, flared bright as magnesium reacting to the evil that dared venture forth, but still that door continued to open. With a loud tinkling, cracking sound, the light ruptured into a thousand glistening shards of glass, plunging the room into darkness just as a large hulking shadow began to emerge, from the now open closet, large sickly green orbs shining high above the carpeted floor.
(Oh my God! Eyes, those are eyes, oh yes they are!)
Now this had to be some spectacular optical illusion for nothing that large could have been dwelling in that small, cramped, insignificant closet. That was impossible!
Duo's mind began to slide down that long slippery descent into insanity. It had simply decided that enough was enough. Count me out, pal…Adios, amigos! He could almost physically feel it untie itself, felt it as it started breaking away from this reality, and darkness was closing in on him, shutting down his mental circuits in a desperate attempt to save his sanity. Dancing black spots crowded in around him and he wobbled, moaning low in his throat.
(I'm fainting, oh God, fainting… If I faint now, I will die, I'll die, I'll die! Or something much, much worse.)
What could possibly be worse than dying? Duo didn't know and he sure as heck didn't want to find out.
In desperation the small child brought one fist up towards his face smacking it sharply against his nose. The pain flared, intense, immediate, not to be denied. The sweet metallic scent of copper pennies threatened to drown him as blood began to spout. Damn, that HURT! But it managed to clear his mind, his vision.
In a desperate blur of motion, Duo sprinted for the door but as soon as his feet struck the ground, long dark tentacles shot out from under the bed wrapping themselves around his small pumping legs. They creeped up his legs and up towards his torso even before he had a chance to even reach the door. Those tentacles pulled him, held him suspended upside down, wrapping around the terrified child, confining his arms and legs, as he kicked, fought and struggled. All to no avail. The shadowy figure glided forward as if on wheels, fanged mouth open and saliva dripping. It drew nearer and neared and it smelled, Dear God, it reeked so bad, like garbage, rotten flesh, decomposing leaves left in stagnant water. Duo screamed loud and wretchedly.
*****
Roseanne awoke in her room with a start, her heart thudding painfully in her chest, one hand pressed between her breasts, the other reaching towards her husband. But that side of the bed was empty. She had forgotten that he would be working a double shift and would not be home until sometime around 8a.m. Panic wrapped itself about her heart, squeezing excruciatingly tight. Something had awoken her from a sound sleep, but what? Sweeping her eyes around the room told her nothing. It was dark, and still. Familiar shapes loomed in the dark, her armoire, the rocking chair her grandmother had given to her on her wedding night, the bookshelf. Everything was where it should be, and yet somehow seemed subtly out of place. As if someone had stolen into her room and cunningly adjusted all the furniture while she slept. Moving it just an inch, if that.
(You're being silly, Roseanne.)
A scream reverberated faintly throughout the house, or was it just her imagination? A sense of approaching doom hung in the air, heavy like humidity, wrapping around her like a wet wool blanket, smothering her. Something was wrong. But what was it? Some deep instincts buried and long forgotten screamed that there was evil lurking. No, pouncing! She could not explain this feeling, but some small part of her brain seized upon it, recognizing it for what it was; the terror of the night, the scrapping of a tree branch against a glass pane, or perhaps claws, long razor sharp claws that sought to rip, tear, gouge? The soft slithering sounds, the tiny patter of creatures that scurried and lurked. Were they mice or something more sinister that walked in these walls at night…The simple dreadful belief in all those nightmare apparitions that lurked and hunted when the good pure light of the sun had abandoned the world, leaving it's children to fend off the fear, the superstition, the reality that man with his modern inventions had decided didn't really exist.
But they did exist, they did. In closets, under beds, in the dark recesses of dried wells and under stairs, in cool, dank forests anywhere, everywhere, as long as there was someone who believed, someone to set them in motion, to turn that oh so tiny key that would release them unto the world of man. At least until the sun rose and sanity returned casting away the fear as easily as light banished shadows.
Roseanne rose from her bed, donning her robe, and hurried through the hall. The scream had not been her imagination! Her baby was screaming, shrilly, in one continuous breath, screaming and wailing, as the poor thing had never done before. Terror gripped the young mother's heart with icy fingers. A dreadful sense that she was too late filling her soul.
(Too late? Too late for what?)
Bursting into the tiny nursery, Roseanne snapped on the lights, rushed to the crib and pulled the screaming child into her arms, offering murmurs of love and comfort, stroking the fine blond curls back from a tear streaked face. A quick examination showed that nothing was wrong with the child, at least nothing physical. And yet, the toddler continued to screech and arch her back, beating diminutive fists against her mother's torso. She kept yelling the same words over and over again. It took a few seconds, but eventually Roseanne was able to make out what her daughter was saying.
Maamaa! Du-oh! Du-oh! Mama!"
Suddenly the feeling of dread solidified with an almost audible click. Something was horribly wrong with Duo! The blond woman did not know what precisely, only that he was in mortal danger. Her maternal instincts flared bright, instincts to love, nurture and PROTECT! With teeth clenched in firm resolve, Roseanne set her baby down into the crib and raced out of the room and down the hall to the northern most bedroom, the one room in the entire house never warmed by a single golden ray of sunshine.
*****
Duo struggled for breath as the slime encrusted tentacles squeezed around his long, slender body, pinning his thrashing arms to his sides, stilling his wildly flailing legs, constricting like some horrific serpent, drawing the boy closer to the beast, bringing him face to face with a creature that denied imagination. It had many faces, but all of them were loathsome, horrifying: a rabid dog dripping saliva, ready to bare fangs, bite and mangle, a devil with leering green eyes and lolling tongue seeking out the souls of the unwary, the stranger lurking in shadows to destroy innocence and bathe in blood and terror. It was spiders; it was snakes with forked tongues, ghosts, ghouls, werewolves and vampires. It was everything and anything that could drive terror into the hearts of Mankind. It was all of these despicably loathsome things and yet none of them. It was and would always be known simple as EVIL. It wore many masks, but all recognized it for what it was.
Hot flesh grazed against his cheek, pressed against his lips, seeking entrance into his mouth. A clawed hand gripped his chin and drew him closer to the creature. Duo twisted and turned his head frantically, but was not able to pull free. Moldering breath, the miasma of defiled graves assaulted his senses, seared his young lungs as he fought to breath, stung his eyes even behind closed lids, and scaled his smooth skin. Fleshy lips clamped over his mouth, inhaling sharply, a thick rattling sound as it absorbed the frail boy's essence, his spirit, his soul.
The small child screamed wordlessly into that invading mouth, his body convulsing, his back bowing. Thin arms flail helplessly in the embrace of those binding coils of flesh, fists clenching and unclenching spastically. Hot tears flooded past clenched eyes as he felt his insides being devoured, dissolved…The creature was hollowing him out, sucking him dry and it hurt, it HURT, IT HURRRT!
Duo felt his strength, his will, his mind, dissolve away, the part of him that made him a unique individual, that part was being stripped away layer by layer like an onion. His consciousness begins to fade as his body began to fail…he was dying, he could feel it, taste the darkness settling over him like a shroud. Pale extremities lost strength, gave up the struggle as waves of cold mist clouded his mind.
As Duo's struggles slowed and then finally ceased, the hideous creature from the closet raked one dagger like claw across its flesh, allowing its life force to flow freely. It cradled the now limp child to its chest much as a mother would hold an infant to nurse and pressed that small slack face against the wound allowing it's own hot blood to flow past unresisting lips. Clouded lilac eyes slid closed, thick lashes like soot against that oh so pale face, while the mind continued screaming, continued struggling long after the body had ceased doing so but fading away into the darkness that rushed in from all sides…
(NO! Help me, God! Oh, please help me!)
*****
A large callused hand rested lightly against Roseanne's shoulder, rousing her from a light slumber with a startled gasp. Blue eyes gazed into familiar brown ones and the exhausted woman relaxed visibly. She released a shaky breath and standing, wrapped her arms around her husband. Jeff planted a gentle kiss on the top of her head and eased them both onto the sofa.
"I got here just as soon as I could. How is he doing?"
The fair-haired woman released her husband with a sigh and gazed dully about the hospital's waiting room. Tears pricked at the back of her eyes but she refused to allow herself to cry. Not here, not in public.
"Well, they have him under heavy sedation… They want to keep him a few days so they can run some tests- some CAT scans and a bunch of other ones…" she trailed off, her voice failing her and she realized that she was going to cry whether she wanted to or not. Oh, damn it! "The doctor's don't know what's wrong with him… Maybe he has epilepsy or something…"
Jeff held her and murmured softly as he rocked her like a child. She was sobbing now, trying to speak, to tell him what had happened, or at least part of it, the part that he would believe at any rate. Her eyes were wide and terror filled as she retold the events that had transpired just a few short hours ago.
(Poor Duo, oh, my poor little boy!)
"It was horrible, Jeff, just awful! When I entered his room he was crumpled up on the floor, and he was just as white as a ghost, and so cold! I took him in my arms and I was so sure that he was dead…but then his eyes snapped open and he began to jackknife around, his back arching like a fish leaping out of the water. He was convulsing and…and screaming! Screaming as fast as he could draw breath! I've never heard anyone scream like that before, Jeff, NEVER! It was as if the Devil was coming up besides him to steal his soul." Roseanne stopped herself as images flooded her mind, unbidden.
(And maybe that's closer to the truth…but I can't say that…No one would ever believe me, anyway. I must have imagined that. Yes, that's it…I let myself get carried away…)
But deep in her heart she knew the truth. She could lie to the doctors, to Jeff, and maybe even to herself…at least while she was awake. But in her dreams, those evil images would linger forever, haunting her until her dying day. She had rushed headlong into the room and had been stopped dead in her tracks at the startling sight that had greeted her. Poor Duo, so still, so pale, being held in the embrace of some gigantic monstrous being, his heart shaped face smeared with blood. The creature or was it creatures? It was so difficult to say, but anyhow, it had screeched, a high undulating sound almost like maniacal laughter, which sliced through the air as sharp as any knife. The sound had hurt her ears so that she clamped her hands over them protectively. And before her eyes it had dissolved away like cotton candy on the tongue, it had simply vanished, dropping the child to the ground with a boneless thud. What had it been? And what had it done to that poor defenseless boy?
*****
Violet eyes flickered open slowly, blinking a few times against the thin wintry sunshine that filtered into the room through the partially closed drapes that decorated the eastern window and fell across the bed at a slanted angle. His vision was blurred but it was gradually clearing. In total wonder the deathly pale boy held his hands out to the thin beams of light, half expecting them to burst into dazzling flames. But no, there was dim warmth, but no searing agony, no crisping of flesh, no spontaneous combustion. Amazing!
A smile twitched the corner of Duo's mouth then the smile became a grin, bearing smile pearly white teeth. It was not a pleasant grin, more like a snarl of a dangerous animal, a threat or promise of pain and terror. Deep in those amethyst eyes, something dark lurked black and forbidding, something malevolent stirred, bleeding into those brilliant purple orbs and transforming them into pools of glittering obsidian, cold as ice, promises of death and destruction.
"Mission accomplished."
The End
Yes, I know it's probably not very good, but at least it's done! And it's only ::glances at clock:: 2a.m! If I'm lucky and fall asleep THIS MINUIT I'll get 31/2 hours of sleep before having to get up and ready for work. Can anyone say, BAKA?