Tales From the Swollen Corpse (6 page)

There are truly beautiful places in this world…

….

A woman sits in the chair by her son’s bed. She sits as she has done so many days. She sits looking at the tubes that feed him and help him breathe. She sits and wonders if he dreams.

 

Mr.
Bagneris
 

Mr. Bags shows you things, that’s what Eric told me before I ran. There was blood everywhere but mostly on the bed. I knew my parents were in that bed and I had an idea what Eric had done to them, but I didn’t want to know.

Eric was still my brother, but he was different now. I didn’t think he meant me harm but I couldn’t stand to be near him. More than anything else it was that change; the perversion of my own blood that sent me running. Like a remade favorite film or song. When someone changes something you know and love, but leaves just enough to still call it the same name, it causes revulsion inside you. It’s actually something new but you hate it for what it pretends to be, that thing that you had loved.

When Eric first told me about Mr. Bags, I thought he had made him up to scare me. He had been playing down by the creek in the woods behind our house. The creek was about a half mile from our backyard and I didn’t like going down there. Where we lived was typically cloudy anyway but it always seemed dark once you
got
that far in the woods.

Eric said he was down there exploring when he saw what looked like a part of a dead tree by the water. As he got closer, he could see it was a man who was staring at him. He said he was about to run away but the man called to Eric by name. Figuring it was a neighbor, he got closer. Eric said Mr. Bags was wearing a top hat like ole’ Lincoln wore. He had a round face and a grin that almost rose to each ear and his teeth were large. His eyes were big and yellow and his skin was dark and leathery. Eric described him in great detail but said there was something about his appearance that he couldn’t put into words.

One thing Eric said he knew wasn’t right about Mr. Bags was his feet; they seemed to be buried in the creek muck. His legs rose out of the mud like the stems of some odd plant. He introduced himself as Mr.
Bagneris
, but said to call him Mr. Bags. He told Eric he knew he was a curious boy. Eric said his voice sounded like Dad’s favorite musician, that Louis Armstrong guy. Mr. Bags told Eric he had wonderful things to show him.

He ran away that first day. But Eric was curious. He went back to see if he could find him again. He even dragged me down there but we didn’t see anything. He did show me the place he thought he had seen him. It was a muddy bank and it didn’t feel like a place I wanted to stay long. It was about a week after that that Eric went down there again and I didn’t see him again until I found him covered in blood in our parent’s room that night.

I ran out the front door and hid under the porch across the street. I watched the house burn and firemen come. I saw cops come and take Eric away. I stayed under that porch, shivering through the night. The next day, when I felt the coast was clear, I ran across the street and went looking for the creek. Fear had been overtaken by anger and I wanted to find Mr. Bags. I needed to know what he did to my brother.

This time he was right where Eric had pointed out. Mr. Bags looked just as Eric had described: like he was part of the woods and as Eric had said; his feet were buried in the mud. I got close and he called my name.

“Oh boy, you’re a curious one too,
ain’t
ya
?”

“I want to know what you did to my brother!” I screamed back.

He grinned the biggest grin I had ever seen and said he knew why I was there, said he had it right here, and pulled a little tin box out of his breast pocket. He held the box out to me. I was now as confused as I was angry but I wanted to know. I took the box and opened the lid. Inside it was just a little thin black worm squirming. I said it was just a worm and went to hand it back.

“Well smell it, smell it boy and you will see.”

I didn’t see any harm so I held it a safe distance from my nose and took a whiff. I didn’t smell anything and went to hand the box back again. Mr. Bags grinned even bigger, I looked in the box and the worm was gone. I put my fingers to my nose just in time to feel the end of it wiggle into my nostril. I collapsed on the ground trying to blow it out as I coughed, while Mr. Bags laughed. Then I stopped thrashing and my eyes opened wide; because I saw what he wanted to show me.

That was twenty years ago and it’s been fifteen since I was put in prison. Tonight they’re giving me the chair. Hopefully this diary finds a reader and they’re curious like we were. If you’re reading this and that’s you, you find Mr. Bags; he’ll show you things.

 

 

“You like it, right?”

The way Erica was smiling, there was
a certain
desperation about it. Tony held the little glass box up to examine it some more. The glass felt as fragile as an eggshell. It was held together at each joint by a minute seam of metal, with no hinges or way to open it. Tony assumed the metal to be lead; touching it didn’t set well with his hypochondria. Inside the box was a little human skeleton no bigger than his thumb. Its detail was truly amazing and Tony was at a loss as to what it was made out of. As far as he could tell, it looked like real bone.

“Yeah, it’s umm interesting.”

Tony did his best to reassure Erica. But the truth was that the thing gave him the willies.

“I knew you would. I remember when we went down to Mexico and you kept pointing out all those little Day of the Dead dioramas. You always like that morbid stuff.” Her eyes scanned Tony’s face for a reaction.

Tony gave her a little smile and head nod to show he agreed as he put the box on the counter. It slouched in its case causing the tiny skeleton’s knees to click against the glass. Fearing it was too delicate to sit like that, Tony carefully laid it down. The sight of it lying on its back made the little box look like a tiny coffin.

“You always find the most interesting things babe.”

Tony didn’t mean the statement as a compliment. Erica was always bringing the oddest things home. Most of which he couldn’t stand, but he was a man that picked his battles carefully.

“Don’t I? I was down at Odds and Ends, you know that little thrift store with all the kitschy stuff? Well they just got a whole bunch of really wacky stuff from an estate sale. When I saw that I knew you’d love it.”

Hugging her he said, “Its great babe. You
wanna
go down to Pete’s and get a burger?”

“Sure.”

It was a rough morning for Tony. He over slept and had the oddest dreams throughout the night. On the way out, he grabbed his keys from the counter and saw the little box. He thought about tossing it in the trash outside but then thought of Erica’s angelic face. Tony carefully picked the little box up and took it to the coat closet. Placing it on the shelf above the coat rod, he turned and shut the door.

Out of sight, it didn’t take long for Tony to forget about the macabre little parcel. But while the days went by, filled with normal work week routine, the nights had become very difficult. When Tony wasn’t having bad dreams, he was awakening with an anxiety he couldn’t explain. At first he chalked it up to the copious amounts of coffee he drank throughout the day. A habit Erica had warned him many times about.

When he successfully managed to go through the day without a drop of caffeine he passed out rather early. He woke in the middle of the night with the familiar anxiety. Now awake, he could still hear a
patter
that had penetrated his dream. It was the scuttle of something tiny running across the wooden floor.

Tony grabbed a little flashlight from his nightstand drawer. Erica was sleeping soundly. Tony did his best to quietly inspect the floor and under the bed. He knew if Erica woke and found out there might be vermin in the apartment she would freak. After a fruitless search he decided to go back to bed. So as not to upset Erica, he planned to call the landlord from work in the morning.

As he drove home, Tony thought about the landlord’s surprised reaction. Mr. Miller had sworn there had never been a rodent problem but said he would have someone out to take a look by the weekend. Opening the apartment door, Tony was greeted by the savory smell of cumin and onions. He expected to find Erica in the kitchen; instead he found her franticly digging through a mountain of shoes that littered their closet floor.

“Babe, you ok?”

Erica turned and sat, looking utterly frustrated.

“Did you take the laces off all my gym shoes?”

“No sweetie, why would I do that?”

“Well they’re not here and I wanted to go to the gym. I’ll have to get some new ones on the way. There’s dinner on the stove.”

With that Erica stood up and threw a pair of sneakers into her waiting bag. She pushed past Tony who stood in the closet doorway equally puzzled by the accusation and the predicament. After Erica left for the gym, Tony grabbed a plate and sat on the couch to enjoy his dinner in front of the TV. Flipping channels, he turned the volume all the way down when he thought he heard a scratching from inside the wall behind him. Tony waited but he didn’t hear it again. He turned the sound to the TV back up and continued his dinner.

Erica got back from the gym just as Tony was washing his face. While getting ready for bed, she wrapped her arms around him and gave her best puppy dog look.

“Sorry about earlier, I was just really annoyed.”

“I can’t blame you,
that’s
really weird.”

They kissed to make up which led to more kissing
,
which they only paused to get into bed. Under the covers Erica positioned herself over Tony’s chest and moved her face to his. Just before their lips touched she hollered out and jumped off the bed taking most of the covers with her.


Oww
damn it! Something freaking bit me!”

Erica sat back on the bed and held her ankle.

“What?” Tony asked, sitting up quickly.

“Something freaking bit me, look.”

Erica held out the hand she had been holding her ankle with. There was a little smear of crimson on her fingertips.

“Damn it. Where are you, you little bastard?”

Tony scoured the pile of blankets then picked them up in a clump and shook them. Nothing came out. He looked under the bed and all around the room. When Erica asked what he was looking for he confessed that they might have a rat problem. The fact that he had kept it a secret sent her into a screaming fit. Tony tried to calm her by insisting the landlord would take care of it.

“Well I am not going to sleep here and be nibbled on all night. I am going to stay with my mother until you handle this.”

Tony had never seen Erica this upset and knew there was no use arguing with her. He helped her pack some things then drove her to her mothers. When he went to kiss her good bye she turned her face and gave him a slight
pat
of a hug. She then pulled out her keys and let herself inside as Tony walked back to his car.

Tony didn’t get much sleep back home. The little he did was filled with dreams of thousands of tiny sharp toed feet scurrying across his bare flesh. He got up with the sun. Dragging himself out of bed, he called the landlord who assured him the exterminator would be out that day. Just as he hung up the phone, it rang; it was Erica. She said she had forgotten her MP3 player and needed it for her spin class. Tony asked if she could come by in the evening so maybe they could get some dinner and talk about things. She told him, in a tone that kept him guessing as to her mood, that she’d think about it.

At the office, the day went by fast. About noon, Tony got a call from Mr. Miller the landlord, telling him they didn’t find any traces of rats or mice but they left glue traps to be sure. Tony wasn’t sure if it was going to be enough to make Erica feel safe so he stopped by the hardware store on the way home and picked up poison and a couple more styles of traps.

When he got to his door, he found it unlocked. Inside he put the bag from the hardware store on the counter and yelled for Erica, receiving no reply. The kitchen and bedroom lights were on but there was no trace of Erica or anything missing.

Tony picked up the phone off the kitchen counter and called Erica. A faint pulsing buzz that coincided with the ringing on the phone line emanated from the coat closet. Tony wondered why she would leave her cell in the closet and opened the door. First, an odd odor told him something was wrong before his brain registered the feet and legs protruding from the darkness of the closet floor.

“Erica… sweetie?”

Tony bent down. Erica’s skin was ice cold. He gently pulled her torso out of the dark depth of closet into the light. He covered his mouth when he saw the look of horror frozen on her face and her open but lifeless eyes. The little he moved her lifted her blouse, exposing her bloody belly. A few centimeters above her bellybutton was a large hole about the size of a child’s fist. Tony couldn’t help but think it looked like something had burrowed into her.

He stood up- banging his head on the closet shelf. Tony watched as the little empty glass box fell to the ground breaking off a piece of glass that was already partly detached and hanging off to the side.

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