Resonator: New Lovecraftian Tales From Beyond by unknow

Author:unknow
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Martian Migraine Press
Published: 2015-03-13T05:00:00+00:00

Murray Shackle, the manager of the Leeds Staples, store 404, most profitable in the district, thank you very much, looked at his watch, then at the wall clock. “Either way you look at it, Marshall’s late. Again.”

Anne O’Glass, the assistant manager, typing in her password, not looking up, said, “He’s probably whacking off.”

“Bah ha ha,” said Murray. “Whatever he’s doing, he is most certainly fucking fired.”

PARASITOSIS

Lyndsey Holder

“I don’t know what to tell you, Ainsley. All your tests have come back normal. There’s nothing wrong with you.”

Doctor Sanders bit her bottom lip and thumbed through the thick stack of papers on the battered wooden clipboard she carried, as though this time she would be able to deduce the cause of my illness.

I’d been trying to be kind, but anger welled up in my throat. I’d fallen into a terrible kind of love with her, a depraved dependence. The pedestal I’d put her on stretched higher than the clouds. I hated myself for how I felt about her. It was so obvious, so cliché, and yet I couldn’t stop myself. I’d filled three notebooks with sketches of her: as a Valkyrie, as a Roman gladiator, as a soldier, as the captain of a spaceship, as a pirate, as whatever kind of hero I needed that particular day. In all, she was armed with a weapon—a ray gun, a sword, a bow, whatever—and was fighting back against the darkness.

Marjorie was her private name, forbidden to me as her patient. I dutifully called her Doctor Sanders, never letting myself cross the line of familiarity. Never letting myself imagine how her generous lips would feel pressed to mine, what it would taste like to kiss the nape of her neck, what it would be like to run my fingers through her long, maple-syrup coloured hair...at least, not in her presence.

I took a deep breath. It didn’t help that Marjorie—Doctor Sanders, rather—seemed to take it personally every time a test came back frustratingly clear. “There has to be something wrong, though. Maybe there’s another test you could run?”

“Ainsley,” she said, and it was hot summer sun overhead and running through fields of wheat in summer sundresses with sandals on. I’d been trying so hard to tune it out, I was always trying so damn hard, but fuck it. Fuck it. Now I was going to roll with it, let the sun hit me, let the warmth caress my skin. Smile. “Have you ever thought that maybe this is your normal? Maybe this is just how you are.”

I laughed. “Doctor Sanders,” I began, but then stopped. She’s given up, I realized. She’s given up and now she’s throwing me out to pasture. Rage built up in my stomach, thick and yellow. She was abandoning me. How dare she abandon me? I didn’t owe her politeness anymore. Fuck this formality.

“Marjorie,” I corrected myself, letting the green-ness of the name roll around on my tongue. Tasting its new-leaf flavour. “Marjorie, did you know that your name is brilliant green? Bubbles of emerald green, with lime at the edges.

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