A Place So Wicked by Patrick Reuman

Author:Patrick Reuman [Reuman, Patrick]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-03-10T22:00:00+00:00

20

Trevor couldn’t believe it. Already, he was back to feeling just as shitty as he had been earlier that morning, before going to the doctor. Well, maybe not quite as shitty, but he was definitely getting there. He was laying in the fetal position wondering, for the first time since this all started, if he was going to die. Feeling like this, this constant pain and draining agony, just wasn’t normal.

It felt sort of like he had just got done with the most intense workout of his life except he hadn’t worked out at all. Not only that, but he had a whole new symptom, one he hadn’t had before. He felt dizzy.

The room seemed to be moving, all of it. The window drifted ever-so-slightly. The closet door couldn’t seem to stand still. The darkness that retracted into the corners of the room, away from the light that poured in through the windows, felt alive.

He took in a deep breath, his mouth dry. He wanted a cup of water, but he didn’t want to go downstairs. Here, he had the window and its light. Out there, in the hall, it was windowless and dark. Unsafe.

If he had cancer, he reasoned, there were treatments. He wasn’t sure what cancer felt like, but something told him that this had to be close. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling. The ceiling wasn’t moving; that was in his head, a part of the dizzy delirium that had crawled out from the depths of his mind, brought on by whatever bastard sickness was gripping him.

If he shut his eyes, which he did right then, it would all go away. How could the world spin if he wasn’t there to see it? But even after his eyes were closed and the light was gone, the pain in his stomach remained, its tendrils snaking their way around every bone and muscle in his body, leaching the energy from his soul.

He heard a sound. It was a door opening. When he opened his eyes, allowing the madness back in, he saw that it was not his bedroom door that had opened. But he knew that. The sound had come from too far away to be his, echoing to his ears from somewhere else in the house, but somewhere not all that far.

The old floorboards in the hall groaned. There were squeaks and then the patter of footsteps. Something sprinted down the stairs. This wasn’t in his head. He sat up, the room coming to a standstill.

He didn’t know who or what had just walked down the stairs. It could have been one of his family members. Or even a burglar. Could have been…something else. What he did know was that he was thirsty, very thirsty, and needed to go downstairs anyway.

He also wanted to know what had just made those sounds in the middle of the night. Surely, everybody else in the house had to be sleeping. He was awake because his body

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