At first they were very soft. Then they got louder. He was slightly puzzled and wondered where these strange dry, crackling noises came from. He didn't think much of it...until the itching started.
He used his pinky to scratch at it but found he couldn't go deep enough to hit the spot. He then rummaged in his mother's dresser for Q-tips, a curette, pointed tweezers or any tool he could think of to stop the damn itching. But it just kept getting worse. And then there were all these pale yellowish bits that kept falling out...
Things escalated quickly from there. The crackling had gotten much louder and he was constantly hearing it all the time now. It was so damn itchy he was seeing flashes of blinding white light. And all those pale, crumbly bits, oh god...it drove him mad. He dug, scratched and scraped constantly. Deeper and deeper. But it didn't stop.
He needed to do something. Anything.
* * *
Later that night, she came home from work and found her teenage son sprawled out on the floor of the living room, blood pouring out of two gaping holes at the sides of his head where his ears used to be. An electric saw and drill lay a couple inches away from his right hand. There were heaps of crumbly, pale yellowish bits scattered everywhere around him.
"Finally", she thought with a smile, "My babies are born." She scuttled away excitedly to adopt another kid.
A collection of short horror stories by Catelin Middvil.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Any constructive comments/feedback/suggestions offered in a courteous, tactful and encouraging manner are always appreciated. Please refrain from using profanity. Comments with profanity found in them will not be tolerated.