Posts Tagged ‘Strange’

The Key Pt 4

October 7, 2014

After twenty minutes of confused tears, Robin lifted her forehead from the table.  She wiped her cheeks dry on her sleeves.  She did not dare look at her tattoos for fear that they were still moving around.  She walked around the bar and checked each door and shut off the lights.  She didn’t know if the other her had counted out the register but after a moment’s thought she decided she really did not care.  At least she discovered her share of the tips stuffed in her cleavage.  She never stored things there but did not look a gift horse in the mouth.

She walked out onto the street and the lighting just felt really off as if everything was either too dim or a slightly different color.  If she told anybody about this night, they would lock her up and throw away the key.  She carefully walked along a seam in the sidewalk for a moment to test if she was still drunk.  It looked like she was walking a straight line but how would she know?  She decided to chance it and started to fumble for her keys.  She thought this was the perfect time for a mugging but once again, she did not care.

Finally, she located her keys and opened the door of her crappy little car.  The car started on the second and a half try and she started towards home.  At these wee hours of the night, there was no traffic to slow her down or get in the way of her possibly intoxicated mind.  It felt weird stopping at all of the red lights when nobody was around.  These days you had to assume a traffic camera at almost every intersection.

She turned up the classic rock station to fill the silent void of the dead of night.  She tried not to think too much about the term ‘the dead of night’ either.  She changed stations rapidly when commercials started to come on.  How could they try and sell her things when she was in this state of mind?  Top 40 pop music hits started to fill the car.  She did not usually like that kind of music but the beat was catchy and anything was better than silence or her own thoughts.  Or worse, somebody else’s thoughts.

She pulled up to the outside of her apartment building and cringed as the hubcap scraped and ground against the curb.  She thought for sure that she had woken the neighborhood but when she shut the car off there was that chilling silence again.  It felt like a pregnant silence, full of the stored potential of the future.  As far as Robin was concerned, nothing more needed to happen at the moment.

She stumbled out of the car and then stumbled up the stairs to the apartment she shared with her roommate.  She spent what felt like fifteen minutes finding her key on the ring.  She marveled at how all of the keys looked alike at night.  The door opened and the apartment was completely dark.  Annabella must not have come home yet.  She walked into the apartment and spotted a flickering light out of the corner of her eye.  That was the hallway to their shared bathroom.  She headed for the hallway and when she turned the corner she stopped and stared.  All of the little hairs on her arm stood on end.

Kneeling in a pool of blinking fluorescent light, there was a young girl with pigtails with her head bowed.  The girl was motionless and immediately all of those alarm bells went off in Robin’s head.  It was like the Beetleman all over again and she was still not sure what had happened there.  She started to back out of the hallway.  She did not need any more adventures or surprises.  Just as she was almost out of range of the light, the girl looked up.
The movement was as if she was a marionette and she had been pulled upright by her strings.  Her face was a doll’s face.  There was really no other way to describe it.  The puppet girl’s face was hard like porcelain or vinyl and was painted just like a child’s doll.  The happy smile was painted on too perfect and looked frightening in the flickering white light.  They sat for what seemed like eons and stared at each other.  Finally, Robin started to back up towards the door.  She glanced in the mirror Annabella had insisted on placing in the hallway and cursed her other self.  Somehow this was Other Robin’s fault.

“Don’t go.” A voice said from within the perfect veneer of the puppet girl’s face.
Robin jumped at the sound and hurried faster, turning away from the little puppet.  Why was this creepy little girl in her house?  Why was she a puppet?  There were too many questions and never any real answers.  She hurried to the door but could not bring her tired legs to a run.

“Help me.” The puppet girl muttered, lips probably not moving.  Robin could not bring herself to turn around and check if the perfect lips moved.  She had a feeling they would not and did not want to witness it.  “Help me.” It said again.

Robin could not wait anymore and fled from the apartment, slamming the door behind her.  In a flash she was behind the steering wheel of her car again and thankfully it started on the first turn of the key.  Tires screeched as she accelerated hard and headed toward her friend Stephanie’s house.

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The Key Pt. 2

July 27, 2014

(For Part One Click Here)

“The what?” Robin asked.  She was suddenly and extremely unnerved by the man which felt like a thousand insects marching over her skin.  His movements seemed perhaps too jerky and definitely too unnatural.  It  was kind of like a full-size puppet with shiny black beetle eyes.  His imploring look was too eager as if he would not survive without this mark that he asked for.

“The Mark of the Hound, girl!” The thing that was kind of a man asked for again. “The one thing that can make me whole.”  His head tilted sideways slowly and awkwardly as he replied.  His accent was impossible to place, at least for Robin.  All she was getting was that he was foreign.  Highly foreign.

She took a deep breath. “How about we start you off with something to drink?”  She gave her best smile like an honest-to-God professional waitress.  She fought the urge to run away and maybe even hit the door at the back of the kitchen and keep running.  Fear ran through her like a million volts and it was nearly unberable.  She swallowed and bore it because it was her job and she wasn’t just some dazed, tatooed nutcase.  Wasn’t she?

The man opened his mouth and Robin thought he would request that mark again.   Instead he closed his mouth and those beetle eyes unfocused for a moment before settling back on her.  There were two clicking sounds that came from his skull and Robin could swear that flames lit up in his eyes and there was flickering movement on the surface of his eyes.  She looked away, somehow feeling it was too private to look at.

“Black coffee?  I what believe preffered is that would have this I.” It finally responded.  Robin had ceased to think of it as a him at some point because it was too disturbing to be human.
“What did you say?!”  She asked, wondering if she just heard him wrong or he had actually mispoken so much.

“Black Coffee.  I believe that this is what I would have preferred.  Yes.” It responded.  If it realized what it had done, it did not show it.  Of course, reading its facial expressions was already problematic at best.  It was doing its best impression of a human but that only meant that it failed spectacularly instead of utterly.

Robin did not wait for more commentary, she nodded and scurried off to the coffee station.   Her hands shook as she poured the coffee and wondered if they had been shaking earlier or not.  She took three deep breaths and then put the coffee down on its table without breaking stride.  She hung a u-turn and ducked  through the double doors and into the kitchen.   She glanced at the back door but somehow managed to decide against escaping.  She was unclear on why it was such a good idea to stick around but there she was.

She stood in front of the sink and splashed water on her face and looked at herself in the mirror.  She could feel the dishwasher’s eye on her but ignored Felipe for the moment.  Why was she so scared of the thing out in the booth?  It seemed harmless enough but so strange.  She had had strange customers before but this thing made her heart beat faster.  It beat too fast.  She felt hot all over but she wasn’t sweating.  She was tingling.  She found it hard to focus her eyes.  This must be what an episode feels like, she thought.

Perhaps if she waited right there at the sink, the thing with the coffee would eventually wander away to terrorize some other unfortunate soul.  Of course, by then Robin would be fired for not serving a customer and did she really want that?  The job wasn’t much to lose but it was hers and she was proud and needed the paycheck.  She could feel pressure welling up inside of her and at some point she became dimly aware that she was screaming.  This was the point where she must have passed out.


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