Weird Horror #3 by Michael Kelly

Author:Michael Kelly
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: horror, short stories, gothic, supernatural, weird fiction
Publisher: Undertow Publications

THALIA WAS ALONE

Donyae Coles

This is where it started. A rumor.

“It’ll be cool,” the Boyfriend said. He wasn’t really her boyfriend but that’s what she called them, the boys who came over and in. They didn’t stay, of course. Thalia wasn’t that type of girl. Thalia wanted everyone to love her, she wanted people to look at her and need to be near her. She put on makeup as soon as she woke up, rarely in the morning, and then cried for a few minutes so it would run and she would look more like Marla from Fight Club even though she was brown sugar sweet skinned and looked nothing like Helena Bonham Carter. Still, she had hollows in her collarbones and she looked hungry, not for food, but for something else. It was all right. She knew that about herself too.

This Boyfriend, forgotten be his name with all the rest, had that certain look in his eye when he told her about the party. The hungry, wet look that told her what he really wanted, what would be really cool.

And maybe Thalia wanted it too. It was so hard to tell what she did and didn’t want when the Boyfriend told her what he wanted. And he wanted to get fucked up and swim in the sea of bodies, press himself into strange and watch strange press into her and that sounded good, that sounded fine to her. That’s what the rumors said would happen, how it would be.

The rumors were true, most rumors are. There were bottles. There were pills. Bright red ones that went down like candy. Thalia floated on a cloud as they, the other party goers, caressed and stroked. Hands, mouths, everywhere. Pulling at her, needing her. All under the softest blue light. She wanted to take the feeling in, drag it into herself from between her legs and open mouth, swallow it until the pit of her filled to bursting.

All night, kitten touches, thick tongues, strong fingers until the twilight light turned black and the pieces of her shattered into tiny specks of dust and she was gone, gone, gone.

Morning came. The Boyfriend was gone, really gone. The hands were gone. The mouths were gone. And Thalia was alone, wrapped in a worn blanket on top of a round bed, a castoff from some love hotel.

That first day she found clothes, not hers but wearable. A baggy men’s shirt and a pair of latex shorts that rode up her ass. Beat up jelly sandals half a size too big. She wandered through the house in her borrowed wardrobe, running her hands over the crown molding, the dusty furniture. The prints of other hands and other bodies left behind by people who had exited before the sun rose.

A small house, a two-story, single family home deep in a rundown part of a city that had moved on. Empty lots sat on both sides of it, the neighboring homes long since torn down and the world was quiet.

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