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Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9
Within the confines of his parent’s station wagon, nine year old Elliott awoke covered in sweat. His mother had allowed him to sleep in the back of the station wagon on his own but he had grown fearful in the night. Elliott had reassured his mother that he was old enough to sleep alone. When the night started to play on his fears, he resisted the temptation to return to his parent’s tent. Rolling the windows up kept out the creepy uncertain sounds of nature. The comfort provided by his nighttime security precautions worked fine until the sun rose. Elliot awoke within a stifling oven of glass and steel. He wriggled free of his sleeping bag and rotated his body so that his head faced the rear of the wagon. In a heat induced delirium, Elliot wormed his sleep weakened arm towards the door handle. Opening the hatch flooded the vehicle with sweet, cool relief. His hungry lungs drew in the fresh morning air. Elliott kicked his pillow forward and snatched it up with his free hand. He brought the pillow to the very edge of the station wagon and laid his head down right above the bumper.
Elliot was a kid prone to strange positions. He liked to sit upside down on the couch and watch television. His mom would tell him not to, that the blood was rushing to his head. When she would nap while he watched the Power Rangers, he would rotate in his father’s recliner and watch T.V. with his head hanging off the seat. He did not see why it should be harmful. He enjoyed the bizarre perspective granted by watching a show while inverted. He enjoyed not getting caught as well.
Elliott gazed with sleet filled eyes to his right. With his head half out the open door he could see the lake. A boat motor started in the distance. People began to awake and go about their day in the campground. He could hear his parents starting to move around in their tent. Good, he thought. It was Sunday morning; that meant a big breakfast with eggs, bacon and waffles. His mother had promised to let him cook the bacon as long as he was careful. He had gotten to sleep in the car last night and now bacon. The responsibility excited the chipper nine year old. He turned his head to look at the ground. Being just a foot above the soft earth gave him a unique vista. He noticed pebbles of various sizes, a few twigs and the ridges of a half buried bottle cap. A pair of small bare feet entered his view. His mother’s feet. He turned over and faced upward to greet his mother with a warm smile. The rising sun was directly behind her shuffling form causing her to appear only as a shadow. She was moving strangely. He rubbed at his eyes trying to focus.
“Mom, is it time for breakfast?”
Young Elliot Dahlgren was very lucky that he could not see her. If the angle was different or the sun obscured by clouds, he would have been driven over the edge of madness by her visage.
She had passed away from shock that stopped her heart yet her face was torn almost completely away. Her husband dined on her beautiful features the way a glutton might consume fried chicken, only the delicious skin. Her passing was quick though her appearance did not suggest so. The reanimated body of David Dahlgren had lost interest in her cooling flesh. His decaying mind drew him out of the tent to seek fresher fare. When she had risen she found herself alone. What was left of her still retained muscles connecting her mandible to her skull. Instinctively, she began to make chewing motions. Her nose was missing and along with it, her sense of smell. She left the tent with the purpose to feed.
Her lidless eyes now scanned her son. He squinted against the powerful sunlight, unable to see her condition. She drew closer, salivating dark green bile. If she could have smelled the boy, she would have found his scent irresistible, however some living characteristic he had still held her interest. All she knew was that she was hungry.
“Mom?” Elliot questioned with a slight tremble in his voice.
She fell to her knees before the rear of the vehicle with a disgusting starved moan. Elliott struggled against her claws and horrid teeth. His small cries muffled by her attack. He fought with the strength of a boy but not for very long. He died upside down, his mother feeding from the soft tissue that comprised his neck. Blood rushed to his head and then splashed on the ground.
Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9
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