Cold to the Touch by Simon Strantzas

Author:Simon Strantzas [Strantzas, Simon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: oozing brain productions
Published: 2015-10-23T19:00:00+00:00

• • •

The scent of spice was the first indicator that Vivian had returned. He opened his door a crack as she walked past, and he stepped out of his room in time to see her close the door behind her. He paused, then turned and went to the kitchen to pour himself some water.

He drank the glassful down as quickly as he could, and as he did his eyes wandered to the living room. Vivian had passed through only moments before, and as she had she discarded her coat, leaving it on one of the chairs. It stood up, arms splayed over the cushions, resembling a seated person. Less than a person, actually; rather the shell of a person.

Cecil had just put his glass in the sink when he heard the sound of Thomas door opening, and Vivian’s footsteps coming down the hall. It was too late to hide; he would have to face her.

When she appeared, she was not as distraught as Cecil had expected. If anything, she looked more content. Her black hair curled over her shoulders, and her lips were fuller than when the two of them last spoke. The Vivian he had known bore only a superficial resemblance to the one standing before him, and he was not quite sure which of the two he liked better.

“Cecil, do you have a moment?”

“Can’t this wait?”

“No. I mean, I don’t think so.”

“I have things to do. I—”

“You can’t leave me, Cecil. I need you close by.” She took a step closer to him. He took one back, and he felt the handle of the refrigerator door dig into his spine.

“Vivian, I—”

She stood inches from him. Then, she extended her arms and wrapped them around him. Cecil could not breathe. He struggled against her.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, her hot breath in his ear. “It’s going to be okay.”

He became absolutely still, hands at this side, and she pressed her body against his. Cecil could not look at her; he closed his eyes but it only made things worse.

There was a sound from the hallway: a knock, as though something had hit the wall with force. There followed a long moan, and Vivian pulled away from Cecil. She looked at him through half-drawn lids and then a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. Cecil remained still as she called out, “I’m coming!” without her eyes leaving Cecil’s. Then, she abruptly turned and left, disappearing behind the corner of the hallway.

He stayed away from the kitchen until the next day. When he returned, he was surprised to see Thom standing there, one hand upon the counter to prop himself up, the other hand working on buttering a piece of toast. Cecil’s breath caught in his throat, and his nephew turned and smiled at him.

“See? I told you I’d be better.” But he did not look better. His eyes were sunken, and his ochre skin was stretched across his face, as though only a skull remained on his shoulders. He stood hunched and twisted, his body trying to minimize the weight on his back.

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