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Merchandise - A Short Story(10)

By:Michael Wright


 

The Great Dane took a look at him and sniffed, turning his nose backto the wind, seeking out something more interesting. “What’s that you’re putting up?” “It’s a sign for our new business venture. Something my wifecooked up, figured it’d be a good way to make some money, youknow.” She looked at the sign. ODDS AND ENDS: NEVER-ENDING YARD SALEWE SELL ANYTHING“Anything?” She whispered. “What’s that?” He asked, the smile of perfect teeth still onhis face. She took a look at his face and noticed that he really wasthe picture of perfection. Just how you’d expect a man in amagazine would look. “You sell anything?” She asked. “Yes, ma’am.” He replied. “Anything.” Aboutthe Author: Michael Wright lives in Alabama and hasbeen writing since his mid-teen years. He enjoys playing guitar,reading, writing, coffee, sushi, Christian theology and he has neverbeen to a never-ending yard sale. Read more stories at<U>http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/michaelwright92</U>Keepreading for a sample of the collection After Hours: 13 StrangeStories, available for purchase at Smashwords.com:</ol>

 

WakingMaureen woke from her terrible dream. The room was dark around her,and the scream that was stuck in her throat was slowly swallowed asshe sucked in thick, warm air that seemed to weigh heavily in herlungs and was expelled with incredible effort—like she wasbreathing swamp water. She couldstill feel the tentacles wrapping around her throat, slimy, drippingwith thick mucous. They writhed and slithered over her body,searching her, tasting her, sampling her. The terrible hiss of raggedbreath from nostrils that seemed torn in the fabric of what wassupposed to be the monster’s face left a lasting chill that ranacross her shoulder blades. She could still smell it, like a thousandrotting corpses blown into her face through dozens of crooked teeththat writhed in their places like a bed of maggots. Her arms were covered in tiny pinpricks, goosebumps swaying as if ina dance across her flesh. She looked around the room in the limitedlighting, wondering why she could not see; the darkness seemed toengulf her. She always left a small light on, always…why couldn’tshe see the light? Maureen tried to wriggle away from her sweat-soaked sheets that triedto hold her back and fought to find the night-light that she alwaysleft on. She never slept without that on. Her free hand fumbled for the lamp switch on the night table, bumpingonly the alarm clock and the H. P. Lovecraft paperback collectionthat rested on the tabletop. Her air was flowing freer, it no longer felt like she was breathingmuddy water, but she instead felt like the darkness was trying tostrangle her. Trying to break free from the terror that was creepingup her spine, heading straight for her brain, crawling like acaterpillar up her spine slowly, tiny legs wiggling up farther andfarther. Maureen finally found the switch on her lamp and quickly flippedit—the light flooded the room quickly from a dim light bulb. </ol>

 

She felt the chills on her arms and shoulders drop. Her eyes weresquinted tightly from the sudden light out of the darkness. Sheclosed on eye and left the other halfway open, trying to look aroundthe room carefully. For some reason she expected to see a monstrositywaiting for her with seven tentacles and jagged, flaring nostrils. From her cracked eye, she could see that there was nothing. Thechills were still receding, her breathing had slowed, the sweat onher brow had grown cold, and the thin white cotton T-shirt she woreclung to her, dripping with freezing perspiration, like anuncomfortable second skin. She knew what snakes must have felt like.No wonder they shed them the way they did. She glanced over where she usually had the nightlight plugged in andsaw a vacant socket, staring at her, a gaping mouth and elongated,downward eyes. It looked like it was trying to scream—she hadalways thought of them that way. On the floor below the screaming socket was the nightlight, knockedfrom where it belonged. Maureen didn’t remember knocking it out ofthe socket, but she must have, nobody else had been in the apartmentthat day. She let out a sigh and managed to get her other eye open, her eyeshad finally adjusted to the dim, but bright in comparison todarkness, light. The plain, white, unadorned walls reflected thelight around her, just as she had intended. Maureen slipped out ofthe cocoon of sheets and set her feet on the floor, ready to go andplug the light back in, and change her T-shirt, there was no way shecould sleep in it. She walked over to where the nightlight and fallen and crouched down,feeling the cool air from the vent directed towards that location,blowing down on her wet back and slipped the nightlight back into itsslot carefully. The light bulb came to life when the nightlight madecontact with the screaming socket, covering up the silent wailer,blocking it from Maureen’s view. Maureen stood and glanced through the slit in the blinds at thestreet below and saw that nobody was there, just a vacantstreetlight. There never was, she just always checked. Just in case.Never could be too sure. </ol>

 

She padded over to the dresser and opened the shirt drawer, seeking aclean alternative to her current soaking fabric. A tank top met her hand. And a tentacle met her foot. She screamed as the mucous covered appendage wrapped around her ankleand pulled her down. From under the bed another tentacle shot out andgrabbed her other ankle. She screamed long and loud, unable to believe what was happening.A head with dozens of crooked, writhing teeth opened. Toxic breath seemed out of two jagged nostrils. The blood red eyesglared out at her hungrily.She continued to scream, wishing for it to end. It couldn’t be real. There was no way it was real…Maureen wokefrom her terrible dream.Read theentire collection, available for .99 cents at Smashwords.</ol>

 

She padded over to the dresser and opened the shirt drawer, seeking aclean alternative to her current soaking fabric. A tank top met her hand. And a tentacle met her foot. She screamed as the mucous covered appendage wrapped around her ankleand pulled her down. From under the bed another tentacle shot out andgrabbed her other ankle. She screamed long and loud, unable to believe what was happening.A head with dozens of crooked, writhing teeth opened. Toxic breath seemed out of two jagged nostrils. The blood red eyesglared out at her hungrily.She continued to scream, wishing for it to end. It couldn’t be real. There was no way it was real…Maureen wokefrom her terrible dream.Read theentire collection, available for .99 cents at Smashwords.</ol>