Read The Unauthorized Autobiography of Ethan Jacobs Page 29

  Chapter 28

  Several hours had passed and he was exhausted. His cheeks and jaw throbbed, as did the split lip. His mouth was dry. He couldn’t shake the image of the little girl nursing from the demon bird as he struggled to the kitchen for some water. Ethan opened the refrigerator for a drink and his mind fractured a bit further at what he saw. 

  Everything inside was covered in blood. It poured from organs and limbs and things that looked like arteries and veins that were part of the refrigerator itself. Hot liquid spilled onto the floor and pooled red around his bare feet. He slammed the door and blinked several times in disbelief, hoping the vision would disappear.

  After the brief pause he opened the door again. Beer and milk greeted him. Nothing was bleeding and there were no internal organs or severed limbs staring back this time. Beer sounded good. He just wanted something cold for his sore face. He took two cans and held one up against his split lip while the other iced his jaw. After a few moments, he cracked one open and drank it.

  Restful sleep was all he desired, but every time his eyes closed, something would scream at ear-piercing volume. He’d never heard anything quite like it and could only attribute it to the presence that was there in his head or his apartment. He grabbed the phone to call Emily. He needed to hear her voice, and he hoped for forgiveness.

  The phone rang five times before going to voice mail. 

  “Emily, I love you,” he said.

  Tears formed in his eyes as he continued.

  “Something is here. Something...terrible and I don’t know if this is real anymore or if I'm ... dreaming. Emily? Are you there?”

  Ethan's voice trailed off and he broke down and sobbed for a moment. When he regained his wits he continued, blood oozing from the split in his lip.

  “I never wanted to hurt you. I love you.”

  Silence.

  The disappointment he felt that she had not answered the phone was devastating.

   ”I just didn’t want the last thing I said to you to be worthless, Emily…”

  He paused for a full minute, trying to maintain his composure. Tears leaked from his eyes.

  “I love you.”

  Ethan wasn’t sure his phone ever really connected. He wasn’t sure if the dream was over, or if he still needed to wake up.

  “It’s going to kill me,” he said, and hung up.

  Then the pressure in the room changed and he knew it was back. A faint shadowy mist moved along the wall behind the couch. Was that what he'd been waiting for? Is that all it was? He finally saw a ghost and was totally unimpressed. Slobber yelped at the strange presence in the room and ran to the bedroom.

  “HA! I see you!” Ethan exclaimed, spitting the words through his bruised mouth. “I can see you, you fuck!”

  He could smell the miasma of decaying meat and sourness again and froze momentarily, waiting for the strike.

  Nothing happened.

  It’s toying with me.

  The pet had come back to keep him on edge, to tire him out so it (they) could take control. It had cut off all communication. Recharged by adrenaline, Ethan darted for the front door with intentions of running through the complex screaming until someone had him committed. Before he touched the knob, he was thrown into the couch by something familiar, yet unseen. Its stench covered him. It pushed his body into the cushions until the frame of the couch cracked under his weight and crumpled to the floor.

  In his mind, he was a knight in armor being pinned down by a dragon’s foot. He wished he had that much of a chance at victory. Whatever it was, it wasn’t leaving, and it wasn’t going to let him leave either. It would hold him until its master returned. 

  “What…what the hell do you want?”

  Ethan screamed and the heavy feeling on his chest left in a flourish, tearing both his shirt and the skin beneath with its claws. The wounds weren’t deep, but they burned as if he had been seared by hot metal. He felt defeated. Sobs started in a trickle from his lips and then spiraled out of control.

  Ethan felt as if his brain had spilled onto the ground and had been replaced with black, mold-ridden clumps of insanity. His rational self found the insanity comforting. Cries turned to nervous laughter, and again he lost consciousness. 

  Next time his eyes opened, he found himself shivering, huddled in the corner of the living room. His hands were wrapped around his knees and he was thankful Slobber was there, licking the cold sweat from his face.