Monday, November 15, 2004

the Figure (Just Keep Driving....): a short story

There is a heavy load of saliva in my mouth, mixing with gobs of mucus. a metallic salty cocktail of bodily fluids.

the fog is surounding buildings like a smoke machin gone awry. I've been driving in my green car for hours, the needle on the gas gauge inching closer and closer to the red line at my left. the windsheild is cracked from where the hand hit, blood on the glass as if it were shot in the chest. I can see a damp flap of skin wrapped around the hood ornament. The metal from the ornament peers through a small oval-shaped hole, a thin brush of hairs over it.

A face, crinkled on the tip of the chrome.

Just keep driving.......

......The red light goes to green. they look like life savers without the holes.

i can here a loud scraping behind me. i look out the back window and see a trail of blood being left by the car.I turn my attention to the road in front of me, but just a quick i turn to the back again. the window is now blacked out by a figure of gory shredded flesh. The figure cracks the window with it's knee cap, torn, scraped, and exposed by speed and gravel.

Just Keep Driving.........

......A hand reaches around the seat and grabs my throat. It's void a middle finger. the bones stick out, unbroken but revealed. the corroded looking tip of the index finger is pressing into my neck, to dull to be painless.

the figure can only make sick curdling sounds as speech is attempted, like someone gurgling on expired milk. thick bubbles of blood trying in vein to hold in the hemorages were around the neck and mouth to coincide with the sick sounds. the chest had been reduced to a pulpy mound. the jaw had been craked down the middle, split in half. it hangs lifelessly on the face, held to the head by strings of muscle and skin. Saliva dried into a white crust on the mouth and tounge, which hung out of the raw hamburger face like a neck tie of meat.

I hit the break. the index finger leaves my throat. the figure grabs the crumbled flap of skin on the ornament before joining the glass droplets on the ground. the fog still halts where my window used to be.

the figure is near lifeless in front of me, crystalized by the glass. i hit the gas. i watch the head pop off like a doll part, victim of a fire cracker. it disapears in the fog. the rest of it's body lies crumbled on the ground.

Just Keep Driving......

.....a car is behind me, honking it's rather weak horn, which sounds like an emasculated duck call. it signals me to pull over.

A Cop?

I comply. we both pull towards the shoulder of the highway (didn't realize i was on a highway), black rubber lightly sraping the concrete curb. a little old man comes out of the red car, holding what looks to be a halloween mask, a latex zombie face in a wig of grease black stringy hairs. i get out to see what he wants. tears and confusion shrinkwrap his face as he holds up his gore toy;

"Look what you did to mt daughter!"

that's all he says.

the mask is missing half of it's face. it's lower jaw is split, the right half crushed nearly to dust, the left half completely gone.

all i say;



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