Categories > Original > Horror

Macabre

by -HUMANinc 0 reviews

What can one man do under the avaricious desire to find the one he loves? What would he have done having known the heinous world created by the malevolence of humans that awaited him?

Category: Horror - Rating: R - Genres: Horror - Warnings: [V] [X] [?] - Published: 2007-11-09 - Updated: 2007-11-10 - 3647 words

0Unrated
Travis


I don’t want to be a part of this anymore, it just hurts too much. I can’t handle it, the pain is just so immense. The shadows in my mind, that ache in my artificial heart . . . I will bear them no longer. I shall step into that eternal abyss, falling in a downward spiral, holding on to the lingering memory of your face. Goodbye, dreadful world. I am forever lost to never-ending darkness.


“This is all that was found?”

“Yes. All of her belongings have disappeared, along with her presence. I haven’t the faintest idea of what happened to her. We suspect she disappeared no earlier than nine this morning, for one of her neighbors had seen her.”

“. . . I see. May I keep this note?”

“Of course.”

The man folded the paper and placed it in the chest pocket of his trench coat. He bid the investigator farewell, picked up the hat he had placed on a small table, and walked out of the small apartment. He walked to the elevator at the far end of the hallway, each footstep making a loud creak. Travis Raleigh was relieved to be leaving, he always despised trashy places such as these. The lights flickered on and off randomly, odd sounds could be heard from a few rooms, and he had seen five mice skittering about. It was positively disgusting. He couldn’t see how anyone, or thing, for that matter, could live in a place like this. Wallpaper was half-torn from the walls, the knob of each door rusted, and long scratches were just about on everything, even some of those who lived in this place.

Nonetheless, Rebeka Mane had lived here, the mysterious disappearing woman. There was nothing special about her, she was just an ordinary woman trying to make a living in the slums of London. She worked as a maid, a maid for Travis Raleigh. She would arrive at his estate around noon, then depart when the sun went down. He didn’t treat her badly, she only had to complete a list of chores each day. Rebeka was not fantastic in any way, how did she disappear with everything she owned in three hours without a trace?

No one had seen her leave her room after nine, those that lived in the rooms next to her thought she was inside the entire time. The vendor across the street from the building hadn’t seen her through her window, either. All that was left of Rebeka was the note on the poor excuse of a desk in her room.

The elevator dinged and Travis stepped inside, pushing the button for the lobby. He recalled the note and clutched his chest pocket. Why would she, or anyone, write something so macabre? It made no sense. The woman never frowned and always greeted him with a smile and a positive work ethic unlike some of the other maids. Travis was indeed puzzled by the whole incident. Someone does not just disappear from thin air. Something had happened to her, maybe she was kidnaped? No, that wouldn’t explain where her things have gone, and the action would have caught someone’s attention. This was all so confusing.

Again, a ding sounded and the elevator doors opened. He left the building, Rebeka still on his mind. Travis wasn’t sure as to why he was getting so involved with this strange occurrence. Perhaps it was the gentleman in him saying it was his duty to look out for his employees, or perhaps he had developed feelings for poor, plain Rebeka. Highly unlikely, after all, he did in fact have a fiancé. Rebeka was lower than dirt compared with his social standing, falling in love with such a person would not be proper.

Travis entered the limousine waiting for him, telling the driver to take him home.


It was after midnight and Mr. Raleigh was still awake, pacing about in his elegant room. The note Rebeka wrote was set atop his own desk that was already littered with many papers and letters, all of which were pushed to the sides, the note in the middle. He couldn’t sleep with those haunting words echoing in his mind, he couldn’t even think about sleep and he was still wearing the clothes he wore earlier, his coat thrown carelessly on his bed. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and all he’s had to drink was tea, then some brandy. His glass was placed next to the note, half-full.

His footsteps were loud as he walked to the desk and picked up the note, running his eyes over it again.

“‘I don’t want to be a part of this anymore’,” he began, reading aloud, “‘it just hurts too much. I can’t handle it, the pain is just so immense. The shadows in my mind, that ache in my artificial heart’ . . .” He paused, letting the words sink in as they did every time he read them. “‘I will bear them no longer. I shall step into that eternal abyss, falling in a downward spiral, holding on to the lingering memory of your face. Goodbye, dreadful world. I am forever lost to never-ending darkness’.”

He put his hand over his face, forefinger and thumb rubbing his temples. “What on earth were you thinking when you wrote this, Rebeka? What was going through your mind to write something like this?” He sighed and sat on the edge of his bed. “Is there a clue as to what happened to you in these words? If only you could tell me yes or no.”

As if in defeat, Travis laid back on the bed, black silky tresses falling away from his face. The note was on his chest now, just at the hem of his vest, his hand over it. His eyes looked almost glossy as he stared at the ceiling in deep thought. After a moment, they closed. Ten minutes passed and Travis was still thinking about the entire incident and Rebeka’s note. The whole thing was a big mess.

Five more minutes went by until he suddenly sat up straight and looked back up to the ceiling. There, his eyes found the chandelier, shining brightly. It must have been his imagination, he could’ve sworn they flickered for the red he saw (due to the light) when his eyes were closed flashed black. He was about to shrug it off when they flickered again, twice. The electricity couldn’t have been faulty already, his house wasn’t that old at all. The bulbs in the chandelier were fairly new as well. He looked back to the note in his hand. Then, he switched hands, the note now in his right hand, and he noticed black marks on the palm of his left hand. They almost looked like . . .

“Letters!” he exclaimed excitedly and turned the paper around, looking at the back. Travis was highly disappointed when he saw nothing, just blank paper. He sighed. Maybe the marks have been there all day and he just now noticed. His explanation was plausible, but then the lights flickered once again and he saw white letters glowing in the darkness.

Travis stood and practically ran to the light switch, shutting them off. There were words written on the paper. He was confused as to why black ink was on his palm when it was written in white, but that didn’t last long as he read.

“‘To you, my dearest one, that fake secret love we shared has only become our sin. The emptiness of my soul lusts for that ultimate darkness and the little demons that skewered my happiness . . . the ravenous rats that ate my insides. And you, the wretchedness of my meaningless life, have stolen my sight. Why did you do this to me? Why didn’t you help me, you arrogant bastard’?!” Travis was completely lost. “Rebeka! Who is your ‘dearest’ one? Who is the ‘wretchedness’ of your life?” He dropped to his knees, lights still off. “Why did you make this such a great mystery? Why couldn’t you be more direct and use names? You wouldn’t believe how helpful that would be!”

Out of anger, he threw the note, though it glided in the air and landed next to him, as if taunting him. He looked at the glowing letters with hatred in his eyes. The new words had only made matters more confusing. He didn’t understand and felt deep inside him never would. It was infuriating and he just wanted to shout all his frustration. Since it was late in the night, he decided against it. Instead, he got up, turned the lights back on, and went to his desk. He pulled out a piece of blank paper from a drawer and a pen from another. Then, he began to write.

Please stop this, I cannot take it any longer. What you are doing to me is tearing my mind apart! I fear I might go insane from your macabre writing! Why can’t you just tell me simply what has happened? Why must you torture me with your confusing words? I want to forget about you and that inane note, but I’m afraid it’s impossible. Just end my misery now! It is too much to bare, I no longer wish to suffer!

When Travis finished, he realized what he had written was slightly similar to what Rebeka wrote. They each depicted the writer being in pain and wanting to end it. Gears began to move in his brain and he answered some of the questions he asked earlier.

“It seems either anger or hatred was going through your mind. That would explain your angry words in the second note. Just as my hatred was hurting me, your own had also hurt you. Wait . . .” more thoughts came to him, “what if your sorrow had brought you pain? Ugh, I’m back to square one!” He banged his head on his desk. “You could’ve been feeling anything! Dammit, Rebeka!”

An hour later, he had fallen asleep on his desk, unaware of the darkness collecting in the corner of the room.


No longer will I walk the path you have forged. My life is mine to control, no one else. These sins are mine to bear, this sorrow my burden, my anguish to suffer . . . Behind this mask of death, these treacherous lies, I am only human and as one I shall allow my arrogant ways to become my downfall, my selfish thinking the end of my world, and when I am long dead and buried only then will I see the error of the human race. Only then will I see how much of my life I truly wasted.



Travis slowly opened his eyes, not believing he had actually gotten some sleep. He sat up then winced, feeling a great pain in his back from resting in the position he had. Looking down at his desk, he saw the note he wrote and Rebeka’s next to it. He didn’t remember placing her note there after throwing it, but it was late and some things were hazy in his memory. Travis stood, stretching his shoulders, back still in pain, but nonetheless he began his morning as he usually did. A maid had already come by and placed some ironed clothes on his bed and had turned off the chandelier light he had left on.

Not much time had passed before he was walking down a grand staircase, clean and fully clothed. He had bid each maid a good morning before walking out the door where a limousine and chauffeur were waiting.

“Where to, Mr. Raleigh?”

“Rebeka’s apartment,” he answered with a grimace.

“Right a way.”

They drove to the slums of London yet again. It was very apparent that Travis didn’t want to go back to the filthy place, but knew deep down that he had to. He had to know what happened to her.

He stepped out of the limousine when they arrived, feeling a cold wind blow. He walked into the lobby and to the elevator, going up to the third floor. When the elevator doors opened, he saw some poorly dressed people standing around the door to Rebeka’s room. Quickly, he made his way over, forcing his way through the small crowd, having to hold his breath as not to breathe in the stench emitting from them. In Rebeka’s room there was a red substance all over the walls and floor. It was on the furniture as well, and even in places that seemed impossible for it to stick. Travis didn’t have to think twice about what the red was. It was blood and it was everywhere.

How did it get there? It couldn’t have been murder, a gun shot or any other kind of wound couldn’t possibly make this much blood spray on the walls and every where else. Someone didn’t bring in buckets of blood and splash it on the walls either, for it seemed to be pretty evened out, no big blotches anywhere. Sucking in all his courage, Travis stepped inside the room, looking at the floor as he did. The blood smeared a little under his shoe. It hadn’t been here for too long.

Everything about cleanliness and bacteria was thrown out of his mind. He slowly walked about, careful not to touch anything. He approached the desk where Rebeka’s note was found and was going to continue walking when he saw a bare space on it that was a rectangular shape. A thought came to him and he pulled out the note from his chest pocket, unfolded it, and set it down on the desk. It was a perfect fit. Something paranormal had happened here, and he hadn’t the slightest idea of what it was. First, a simple woman disappears with everything she owns. Second, an odd note is found with macabre writing on it. The back of it was written on as well but can only be read in the dark. Lastly, this room completely covered in blood except for a small part of the desk that was the exact same size as the note.

“Christ, what the hell is going on?” he said to himself. “It makes me want to pull out my own hair.”

He picked the paper up and folded it back. He made way for the door, then something caught the corner of his eye. He turned his attention to the incredibly small kitchen, swearing he saw something. In an attempt to prove himself, he walked into the kitchen and looked around. The blood was everywhere still and he looked to a door to the left. It was hard to see, but the letters ‘WC’ were carved into it. This door led to the bathroom. He opened the door, and this room, too, was splattered with blood.

As he walked up to the small mirror, Travis felt a chill run up his spine, collecting at the base of his skull. It was a feeling like none other, and when he looked into the mirror he discovered why he felt such a strange sensation. In the mirror was not his reflection but instead what looked to be another world. It seemed to be some sort of facility, for he saw a furnace and boxes of sorts. Chains were hanging and the lights gave everything a sick, yellow look. He placed his hand against the glass but pulled it back hastily when he felt his fingertips go through. He was suddenly reminded of the play “Alice Through the Looking Glass” and wondered if he could truly pass through the mirror just as Alice had.

After thinking it through, he decided against testing that theory and went to the door. It slammed shut, nearly catching Travis’ hand with it. He tried to turn the knob. It wouldn’t budge.

“Dammit,” he said quietly as he tried again, both hands on the knob. Then, hands still on the knob, he managed to get his feet on the wall and pull that way. His attempts of freedom were fruitless. He was someone locked inside a windowless bathroom with a strange mirror. Travis let go of the door and stood in front of the bathroom counter, hands resting on the edge. Sighing, he turned away.

“I’m not going through that mirror. No way in hell.”

Suddenly, he was pounced on by some unknown creature. He yelled out of surprise as he collided with the cracked, tile floor. There was pain in his face and ribs as he landed on his stomach.

“You will go through that mirror, Mr. Raleigh,” the creature said, it’s voice sounding like a dying cat.

“The hell are you?” Travis managed to say, the side of his face being forced down on the tile by the creature.

“I am the demon created by your anguish, the darkness in your heart . . .” It leaned down to Travis’ face, a long tongue coming out of his mouth and licking the man’s cheek. Travis shivered out of disgust. “I know everything about you, Mr. Raleigh. There is nothing you can hide from me. That Rebeka wretch is beyond the mirror, and I know you won’t be able to resist chasing after her. Won’t you, Mr. Raleigh?”

“Rebeka is in the mirror?”

“Come now, Mr. Raleigh. I might be a demon, but I do not lie. I am made of every part of you, including your honesty. I cannot tell a lie.”

“But you just said . . .”

“I may not be able to lie but I can keep certain information from you. Not telling is not considered lying.” Travis couldn’t see the demon but he could sense it grinning. Then, the demon got off him, allowing the man to stand up and actually get a good look at it.

Travis found it difficult not to lose his breakfast while looking at the demon. It wasn’t very tall, about four feet. It had no hair, many small horns on it’s head and it’s four deep-set eyes that ran in two rows glowed red. It’s nose was only two small slits in the center of it’s face, a little below it’s eyes. The mouth was abnormally large with no lips, the gums rotting. On it’s cheeks were big thick worms that seemed to have half-melted into the skin and they ran up around the eyes. It didn’t seem it had any ears, big horns tilted upward from the sides of it’s head. The skin was a pasty pale color, and Travis thought that he actually saw the demon’s twitching brain!

It’s body wasn’t any more pleasant. It had no neck and it’s arms were so long it’s hands reached the ground. More horns ran along it’s arms, maggots popping their heads up from the flesh for a second before going back inside. There was a large hole in each hand that could be seen through and it had three long fingers, six in total, with long claws. The flesh on it’s chest looked as if it had been burned away and was a nasty red and black color, some of it’s rib cage revealed. There was a hole in the rib cage, showing a black, beating heart. It’s legs were short, horns sticking out at his hips. It didn’t have any feet, at it’s knees multiple tentacles came out and Travis saw that some formed together to make one tentacle and then separate again.

The demon saw the man staring at him and laughed.

“I am quite the looker, are I not?” It grinned again, making Travis wince at sight of the rotting gums. “When you are done staring, we will go through the mirror,” and it turned it’s back to the other.

And he thought it couldn’t get any worse! The demon’s spine was completely visible, each disk and joint a yellow color, large spikes running down along the sides of it, and on the back of it’s head was some sort of machine. It was a metal plate but with two little pipes that stuck out towards the bottom, blowing out a little steam as if it were some sort of exhaust. It was bolted into the demon’s head and at the edges he saw some black fluid slowly leaking out. The demon also had a tail, why he didn’t see it before he wasn’t sure, but he saw it now. It looked like one large living earthworm about five inches wide at it’s thickest part. It wiggled and waved around violently.

Travis looked away, unable to bear the sight of the demon any longer. It was a true abomination, God’s most despised creature.

“Let’s save Rebeka,” he finally said.

“About time. I thought I’d end up waiting by your grave for an answer.” It snickered and stepped to the side. “By all means, Mr. Raleigh, do go first. Do not want you running away now.”

A frown spread along the man’s lips. As if he would actually do something as cowardly as that. He climbed up onto the sink, looking straight into the mirror. Slowly, he put a foot through, stretching it down until he found sturdy ground. Then another foot, he was practically sitting on the rim of the mirror. He took a deep breath, glanced over to the demon and back to the mirror. He allowed the rest of his body to go through the glass, closing his eyes tightly as he did so.
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