a puddle of water, lay a tongue as long as his arm.
Adrian stared at it and felt like crying. This was no dream. Something terrible was happening, and it was happening to him. It felt like it was happening inside him.
The tongue twitched—
Adrian swung the door closed, and it stuck shut with a wet squelch .
“ Mierda. ” Mike stumbled out of the back room, Twitch behind him. The bassist held his hand over his face like he was trying not to throw up.
“The room is a latrine,” the fairy explained matter-of-factly. “Or at least, the bottom half of one.” A cloud of cloacal stink followed behind them.
Footfalls passed over Adrian’s head and he froze. They sounded like they were heading for the top of the stairs.
Eddie appeared in the doorway of the third room. “There’s a way out,” he hissed. “Hurry!”
Adrian shuffled across the floor, really wishing he had shoes on his feet. He was the last into the room, and entering it, he stepped down into deeper water, swirling with warm and cold currents. As he passed through the entrance he saw the door at the top of the stairs crack open. He didn’t wait to see who was coming, and shut the door behind him.
He expected this room to be lit by a naked 40-watt bulb, pulled on and off by a chain. Instead, in the warm water in which he stood swam five-foot-long eels whose entire bodies but for their bulbous heads glowed yellow-green in the darkness, casting a sickly phosphorescent glow upwards. Lit from beneath, everyone’s faces looked cracked and cadaverous, with hollow pits for eyes above green slab cheeks. Adrian expected twisted steel shelving, stacked deep with jars, cans and boxes of food, all well past their expiration dates and yet months away from being eaten. Instead, there were piles of bodies.
Human bodies.
And he knew some of them.
“Son of a bitch.”
“Shh.” Eddie pointed up at a hole in the corner of the ceiling. “Old furnace vent,” he whispered. “It’s got to lead up to the other rooms.”
Only it didn’t look like an old furnace vent. It looked like an open toothless mouth, just big enough to swallow a human being whole.
Twitch must have read the uncertainty in Adrian’s face. “I’ll go,” the fairy volunteered. She turned to face the vent in the corner, leaped forward—
and plowed headfirst onto the pile of corpses.
“Mab’s shiny belly!” she spat.
“Twitch can’t change shape.” There was a note of panic in Mike’s voice.
“Yeah,” Eddie said, “and you’ve lost your superpower of deep insight. This time, you first.”
He half threw the bassist across the room and Mike started scrambling up the mound of bodies. His bare feet slipped on bellies and crushed heads, turning their necks away at impossible angles.
“ Fundillo, ” he grunted.
Adrian stared down at the eels, tears stinging his eyes. At the top of the pile lay the body of his father.
“Oh, man.” Mike lingered at the top of the stack on all fours, staring up into the dark hole.
“Pretend it leads to a womb,” Twitch quipped. “If that’s your preference.”
The staircase outside creaked.
“Go!” Eddie hissed. The guitar player scissor-punched Mike in the butt, pushing him forward into the darkness. Then he shoved Mouser up the pile.
Adrian watched them step on the bodies. He was fascinated, horrified and sick. He recognized faces from his childhood. There were neighbors, kids who had gone missing, a survey taker who had really made his uncle angry one day. He didn’t know why their bodies were piled here. Had his uncle actually killed them?
Or was this some twisted invention of his own dreaming mind? Did Adrian wish that he, Adrian, had killed all these people?
But then why was his father on top of the pile?
Twitch stepped onto his father’s chest and sprang up lightly into the vent. Adrian couldn’t be sure, but he thought the opening of the vent constricted a little bit around the fairy as she went into it, like a mouth
Adrian stared at it and felt like crying. This was no dream. Something terrible was happening, and it was happening to him. It felt like it was happening inside him.
The tongue twitched—
Adrian swung the door closed, and it stuck shut with a wet squelch .
“ Mierda. ” Mike stumbled out of the back room, Twitch behind him. The bassist held his hand over his face like he was trying not to throw up.
“The room is a latrine,” the fairy explained matter-of-factly. “Or at least, the bottom half of one.” A cloud of cloacal stink followed behind them.
Footfalls passed over Adrian’s head and he froze. They sounded like they were heading for the top of the stairs.
Eddie appeared in the doorway of the third room. “There’s a way out,” he hissed. “Hurry!”
Adrian shuffled across the floor, really wishing he had shoes on his feet. He was the last into the room, and entering it, he stepped down into deeper water, swirling with warm and cold currents. As he passed through the entrance he saw the door at the top of the stairs crack open. He didn’t wait to see who was coming, and shut the door behind him.
He expected this room to be lit by a naked 40-watt bulb, pulled on and off by a chain. Instead, in the warm water in which he stood swam five-foot-long eels whose entire bodies but for their bulbous heads glowed yellow-green in the darkness, casting a sickly phosphorescent glow upwards. Lit from beneath, everyone’s faces looked cracked and cadaverous, with hollow pits for eyes above green slab cheeks. Adrian expected twisted steel shelving, stacked deep with jars, cans and boxes of food, all well past their expiration dates and yet months away from being eaten. Instead, there were piles of bodies.
Human bodies.
And he knew some of them.
“Son of a bitch.”
“Shh.” Eddie pointed up at a hole in the corner of the ceiling. “Old furnace vent,” he whispered. “It’s got to lead up to the other rooms.”
Only it didn’t look like an old furnace vent. It looked like an open toothless mouth, just big enough to swallow a human being whole.
Twitch must have read the uncertainty in Adrian’s face. “I’ll go,” the fairy volunteered. She turned to face the vent in the corner, leaped forward—
and plowed headfirst onto the pile of corpses.
“Mab’s shiny belly!” she spat.
“Twitch can’t change shape.” There was a note of panic in Mike’s voice.
“Yeah,” Eddie said, “and you’ve lost your superpower of deep insight. This time, you first.”
He half threw the bassist across the room and Mike started scrambling up the mound of bodies. His bare feet slipped on bellies and crushed heads, turning their necks away at impossible angles.
“ Fundillo, ” he grunted.
Adrian stared down at the eels, tears stinging his eyes. At the top of the pile lay the body of his father.
“Oh, man.” Mike lingered at the top of the stack on all fours, staring up into the dark hole.
“Pretend it leads to a womb,” Twitch quipped. “If that’s your preference.”
The staircase outside creaked.
“Go!” Eddie hissed. The guitar player scissor-punched Mike in the butt, pushing him forward into the darkness. Then he shoved Mouser up the pile.
Adrian watched them step on the bodies. He was fascinated, horrified and sick. He recognized faces from his childhood. There were neighbors, kids who had gone missing, a survey taker who had really made his uncle angry one day. He didn’t know why their bodies were piled here. Had his uncle actually killed them?
Or was this some twisted invention of his own dreaming mind? Did Adrian wish that he, Adrian, had killed all these people?
But then why was his father on top of the pile?
Twitch stepped onto his father’s chest and sprang up lightly into the vent. Adrian couldn’t be sure, but he thought the opening of the vent constricted a little bit around the fairy as she went into it, like a mouth
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