Resurrection House by James Chambers by Dark Regions Press

Author:Dark Regions Press
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: scary stories, dark regions press, james chambers, horror short stories, drp digital, short stories, dark regions digital

The brunette had been his first after meeting the Dark Woman. When the inner conflagration devoured her, Malcolm had recoiled. He hadn’t understood.

Her flesh had hissed and popped, echoing the frightened screams in Malcolm’s mind, until the glowing thing emerged from her burnt remains. The sight of it inspired awe. How wondrous its instantaneous arrival. How fulfilling to witness its birth, nurtured, Malcolm intuited, on the life force of its mother. The seed was his, though, the new life a product of his desire, his need to fulfill the destiny the Dark Woman had granted him. She hadn’t been a madwoman or a club freak, his hallucination not drug-induced, but the result of absorbing a shred of her power so that he could carry out her work. All this clicked on in his mind as if the knowledge had been buried there waiting to be activated.

This was the Dark Woman’s gift.

He felt duty-bound to share it most promiscuously.

It was easy when he saw all the hidden signs and signals that let helped him be any woman’s perfect man, any woman’s sinful and unexpected fantasy. He approached his lovers with total confidence. The Dark Woman had been no less than she claimed: a harbinger of something vast and bordering incomprehensible. Malcolm knew it was true because of all the things he saw now that no one else ever did.

Stone buildings dripping like sludge.

Towers of steel and glass running like chrism.

Sidewalk concrete flowing with an infinite swarm of tiny creatures for which Malcolm knew no name.

Throngs of people passing through doorways and subway entrances like a monstrous wash of cytoplasm spilling through the canals and orifices of the city.

The sky overhead alive and electric with the glowing things like those Malcolm sired. They seared the night. And every one of them had devoured its mother before rushing to the bloated wet-nurses that sustained them: sprawling leviathans that filled the empty heavens and stretched so far toward the horizon that Malcolm could not see their heads. He saw only turgid fields of mottled, inhuman skin between bunches of ravening lights clustered to suckle at throbbing teats, living constellations in a universe made of flesh.

The glimmering things changed each day, sprouted limbs and sensory organs, adopted forms that puzzled Malcolm and sometimes made him shudder. New births occurred frequently. Infants sailed out of the city canyons, rising to join the growing brood, giving Malcolm comfort in the fact that he was not alone in his work. He wondered how many others had accepted the Dark Woman’s sacred charge, how many hollow lives had she filled putting them to work toward the end of a world that had left them all empty and riven by anger and despair. Malcolm searched himself for some shred of sadness or sympathy for the kine he sacrificed to his power, but he found none. He was more than human now, his place in the new way secured, and he had much left to do. He hoped it would not be long before he found his “true mate.

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