Building 8 “Coming Out of Their Skin”

I am surprised. Would have imagined that losing that much blood would have made me pass out, but instead I am awake. Giddy even. I look down at the sink, and I try to remove the blood from around and within it. But there are little crevices, inconsistencies in the counter-top...

I can't possibly get it all.

I look off towards the neighbor's house. Their porch lights are on. It hurts my eyes like crazy...

He is standing out there, hidden under the glare of the light. If I hold up my hand, I can see his outline. I put my hand down, and he disappears, but not really.

He hasn't moved in a half hour, though I suppose that isn't strange for him. Technically he never moved from the moment I met him. Not in a traditional sense.

The flickering of lights and the smell of flowers.

The way he speaks without seeming to move his lips, and the look of his bad skin...

But not his skin. Just something he has been wearing to look normal. Like a human. I can't see him now, but I'll never forget what he looks like underneath.

When the surface is pulled away.

That broken line of teeth jammed into the plastic head, filled with foam. That blank, eyeless expression.

A mannequin.

I should have seen it coming.

The neighbors, Margaret, and I met around five. Their house smelled different. The pungent flowers I was used to, had been killed off in the early frost and had been replaced with something less aromatic. Something that didn't cover smells as well.

Had some dinner. It was interrupted.

There was a sound coming from upstairs. Like a skittering. They seemed as confused by it as we were. Assumed it was animals hiding out in the attic, trying to escape the cold.

Talked about what to watch. Settled on an obscure title we never heard of. Went to put away the dishes. They insisted I don't. Tried to anyway. They weren't moving.

The lights flickered. Room went dark. The man appeared in front of me.

Didn't mean to react like I did. Didn't mean to shove him. He fell back and caught his head on the edge of the door frame. I heard something tear.

Lights flickered again. Then it was dark.

Power had gone out completely.

Thought he was going to attack me, but when the lights went on, my neighbor was just standing by the refrigerator.

Then there was a heavy pattering of feet, as a dark thing rushed down the hall and into the kitchen.

It was breathing badly. That large, black, oily thing.

I think it tried to scream, but it couldn't. All it could do was howl.

Like the dog. I think it used to be...

I held up my arm as it lunged at me...Its bite burned my skin on contact as it thrashed around. I cried out, and when it released me, I could see a piece of my arm hanging from its mouth.

It paused, its eyes narrowing as it lunged at me again, pulling my arms apart and going for my throat.

The lights flickered.

The thing howled as my neighbor grabbed it by the neck and pulled it off of me. He lifted it and drove it through the dinner table, the lights still flickering. Like a strobe.

It flipped back onto its feet and lunged at him, its jaws separating and clamping down onto his head. I heard a scream as Margaret and his wife came into the room. I grabbed the knife block off the counter and began to drive them into the thing as it continued to thrash around. It was only after the sixth knife that the thing began to slow down.

Then his wife grabbed its jaws and pulled in opposite directions.

It fell onto the ground in a heap, and didn't move anymore.

The ground underneath it began to sizzle.

The lights settled, and when they did, the man and his wife were standing in front of me. The skin on their hands was bubbling. The skin on his head was torn off, revealing the plastic underneath. The skin was scorched, blackening on the edges around the bite.

He wasn't bleeding. The teeth made him look like he was grinning.

I don't think any of us knew how to react. It was Margaret that finally broke the silence and pulled me away. She tried to get me to go to the hospital. I only relented when I realized I couldn't fix my arm with what I had. I have the field experience. After a few close calls during more dangerous assignments ,I brushed up.

But it wasn't enough.

I should be able to keep the arm, but I won't be able to use it well.

I'm back from the hospital, looking off at the neighbor's lawn. I'm sure he has gotten rid of the body. Has to have. He is still standing there. I am sure he is looking at me. How he manages that I don't know, since he doesn't have eyes. At least, not his own.

They have been my neighbor's for years.

Entire time I was living next to monsters.

Monsters I thought were my friends...maybe still are...

It is cold tonight. Cold creeps into old wounds. Makes them hurt more than you'd think. When the cold hits a nerve ending...

Loyd keeps trying to lick the wound.

The tree out front is bare.

I want to sleep.