The Enigmatic Monster Project: horror of all flavours

I See You, My Lovely

Written by R. J. Davies Mornix

He held his breath. He wondered what she was thinking. Christie Hart had no idea how sexy she was. It drove him to the brink of madness whenever he thought about it. She wasn’t tall or  thin like a super model, but she was a goddess. He knew she was …  There was just something about her. It was a sickness; he knew it on some level . . . But she was his medicine. Whenever he got close to her, or watched her, he was taking his medicine.

He promised himself that some day he would work up the courage to talk to her … Someday … It had been six  years since he first met her. He had been a passenger in a vehicle that was the victim of a hit and run. Since he didn’t say anything she didn’t really pay attention to him. But he noticed her. The way she walked in that uniform, the way she took control of the scene and interrogated everyone. A male officer had begun to give her a hard time but she put him in his place with a look and a few whispered words. He had always wondered what she had told him.

He spotted her one evening leaving the local gym. Thinking she was headed into work he followed her. Officer Hart was headed home. So he followed her there.

It was just innocent drive-bys once in a while. Then his drive-bys became more frequent. Now he knew everything about her. He followed her as she went through relationship after relationship.  He joined her gym and began working out. The last six months he went from soft and flabby to a washboard stomach. April, another woman who went to the same gym asked him out a couple of times. They went out to the movies once, and he felt like he was cheating on Officer Hart. Once he had worked out on the treadmill beside Christie. She always smiled and nodded. A lump always caught in his throat; his heart would race and his palms would sweat. He thought he was having a mild heart attack. That was the only time he tried to talk to her.

He stuck to just watching. No one that knew him would even guess that he did this. God, if anyone found out he would die of embarrassment. Swallowing hard, he reminded himself of her  garbage bags that he had back at home in the garage. He had started going through her them when his sister had popped by last night.

No … No … He wasn’t ready for anyone to find out about his girlfriend. He liked the privacy of their relationship.

She stood up in her living room and stretched. He watched as she turned off the lights and TV.

He waited. She didn’t disappoint him. She never did. He held his breath until she turned on the bedroom light and pulled out his camera. He watched as she crossed the room, feeling grateful that she lived on such a lonely stretch of road. No one ever bothered him here and she always left her curtains open.

Only for him.

“I see you, my lovely,” he whispered, and then blew her a kiss.

The Enigmatic Monster Project: horror of all flavours.

The Adjuster

By R. J. Davies Mornix

Stepping into the room, it suddenly felt like the temperature dropped a few degrees. She scanned the room with precision, knowing exactly whatmore importantly who she was looking for. Once she saw him, she only had eyes for one person. Crossing the room purposefully … Her clicking heels came to a stop as she stood in front of him.

He looked up, smiling, with an approving gaze.

Frowning in response: “Mr. Nettle come with me.” Turning, she lead the way down a  hall and into a vacant room.

“I’m glad to see you, Clara.”

“Have we met?” she asked coldly, pausing only slightly before she came around and sat down at the table across from him.

“You don’t remember me?”

“Should I?”

“Well, I suppose not. It has been some time since high school.”

“Hmph,” she laid her briefcase on the table. She paused as she was about to open it and tilted her head to one side. “I remember you now. You were the first boy I had ever kissed,” she went about opening her briefcase. She pulled out a file with his name on it.

“You haven’t smiled once since you approached me. Should I be concerned?”

“Mr. Nettle, this is a serious matter.”

“Please, call me Eric.”

“Do you understand the money we invested in  you?”

“I do and I intend to pay you back.”

“Really? You happen to have two billion dollars in the bank right now?”

“No … But I can pay you back by making payments.”

“Mr. Nettle,” she began.

“Eric,” he insisted.

“Mr. Nettle, I highly doubt you’ll see two billion dollars in your life time. Then there is the matter of the time we invested in you. The time and resources spent to train you is very valuable.”

“I understand. But I can’t do this. When I signed up I didn’t know what you were asking of me. I didn’t  realize you had intended for the candidates to give up their rights and their lives. You never said that.”

“Mr. Nettle, when you signed up with Xplore what did you think we wanted from you?”

“I was told that I could do the training and if it was something that I didn’t feel I could handle, I could talk with an adjuster and they could process my release.”

“Is that what the nice man told you when he recruited you?”

“Yes,” his eyes narrowed a bit, a little wary of her tone.

She smiled staring at him. He began to think that he liked it better when she wasn’t smiling.

She tapped his file with her long manicured nails. “Well, Mr. Nettle … I am your Adjuster.”

“So tell me, what do I have to do to get out?”

She chuckled. “First let me explain something to you that the recruits don’t tell. When you sign up for Xplore. It’s a one way ticket. Yes, we are partners with the government; they help us with the funding. Yet at the end of the day when you signed your name on the forms: we own you.”

“I’m a human being, you can’t own me.”

She chuckled, “Mr. Nettle, we own you. It’s like you coming into my house and taking whatever you want without asking and then walking out. It’s stealing. You wanting to leave Xplore is like that: coming into my house and stealing from me. Now look at me Mr. Nettle, what have I ever done to  you? Why do you want to steal from me?”

“You don’t own me,” he spoke softly.

“Yes  Mr. Nettle, I do,” Flipping open his file she flipped through a couple of sheets and paused. “Alright,” she slammed her hand down on the table. He jumped.

“Since I like you, I’ll make a deal with you.”

He leaned forward, eager.

“Here are my demands. I want one of your kidneys, three litres of bone marrow, four litres of spermand this could start the processwe want monetary compensation as well: you will owe us until you go to your grave.”

“I’m sorry, I only have the one kidney.”

“Hmm well I guess that is a problem for you, Mr. Nettle. These are our standard demands for an individual to be released.”

“Please, there has to be something.”

“Yes, Mr. Nettle, we are not monsters. You have a choice. If you agree to our release conditions then sign here,” she passed him a form to sign.

“Are you kidding me?”

“Mr. Nettle, there are a couple things that you should know about me. One, I never joke …  And two,  I believe everyone has a right to choose.”

“If I sign this I’m dead. If I don’t, I die in space. How is that a choice?”

“Location.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“We all die Mr. Nettle. But like I said: we own you. And here I am giving you the choice of where you want to live out your final days.”

He shoved the papers back at her, got up, and headed for the door.

“It’s a brave choice, Mr. Nettle.”

“I can see how you got this job … You’re a heartless bitch.”

“I just happen to be very good at what I do.”

The Devil's Fork, by R. J. Davies Mornix, presented by the Enigmatic Monster Project

The Devil’s Fork

Written by R. J. Davies Mornix

The elders had whispered about it It took forever to find. Every country, every state or province (depending on which country you were talking about) had one.  It was just never talked about. The subject was forbidden. He had to do this–it was the right thing to do. There was a heavy dew that clung to the air which shrouded everything in a light mist. His car lights were on and it was the only light he had to see by. Why was midnight so damn important? Chills crawled up his sensitive skin.

Closing his eyes tightly he took a deep breath. This was the same road he came out to in the day to check. It was the right place.

This was the right thing to do.

Self doubt began to creep into the back of his mind … Listening hard he ensured that  there was no traffic around; this stretch of road there never saw much much traffic during the day. He wasn’t surprised.

Pacing up and down, not stepping onto the center of the cross road … Biting his bottom lip hard, he could taste his bitter sweet blood. Licking his wounded lip nervously, he looked over his shoulder.

“Forgive me grams for what I’m about to do.”

Holding his breath he rushed to the centre of the cross road and pulled the spade out of his back pocket. Digging feverishly, he hacked away at the soil … The hard clay in the middle of the road meant he had to fight hard towards his goal.

Then the hole was big enough. He took the metal box from his backpack. With shaking hands he gave it a kiss before placing it in the hole. Then he quickly covered up the box with the rich brownish-red clay.

Sitting back on his heels, he frowned and stood up quickly.  Forcing himself to take a couple steps back, he resisted the urge to dig it up.

“What have I done?” he whispered to himself. Clapping his hand over his mouth he spun around to find just himself in the middle of the road.

Something came over him, he took a couple steps back to the mound and stomped on it, pressing the dirt down, then hurried over to his car. Pausing, he looked down at his watch.  One minute to midnight.

One minute to get the box back! One minute to get the box out of the ground and stop this foolishness. One minute to stop the madness …

One minute to save his soul.

“Time’s up,” a soft, sultry voice whispered.

He almost jumped out of his skin. Spinning around he saw the most beautiful raven haired woman standing in front of him. Her blue eyes were so blue they looked like they shone. Her red lips curved into a devilish grin.

“Who are  you?”

She chuckled, “Who do you want me to be?”

“I thought … I thought …” his voice trailed off.

She stepped closer and caressed his cheek with her long, cold fingers. “That I would be what? A male? With cloven hooves, bearing horns on my head?” Tossing her head back she laughed; much like her voice it was hypnotic like a drug.

He blinked and the image of the devil barring hooves and horns appeared before him.

“Is this what you thought I would look like?” a deep raspy voice asked.

He nodded slightly not taking his eyes off her or him. The monster changed back to the gorgeous woman who first greeted him.

“Isn’t this much better?” the deeply raspy voice chuckled.

She cleared her throat. “Well, you summoned me,” her soft sultry voice was back. “I know why but you have to ask for it. Those are the rules.”

“Who are you?” he stammered.

She laughed … Paused, tilted her head to the side and grinned.

“They were just stories,” he gasped.

“Were they?” she whispered.

“You can’t be real.”

“I don’t have all night kid. I’m the devil, and even I have a schedule to maintain.”

“But …. But … But …”

“Say it,” She whispered inside his mind. “Say the words.”

“I need my …,” he words trailed off as he heard  his grandmother’s words warning him.

SAY it,” she stood just inches from him. he could smell fresh baked  cookies on her breath. She  looked like an angel.

“I need my brother back. I want him back alive and healthy like he was before this accident; I want him to be alive and to live a long happy life.”

Stepping back, she had a big grin on her face. “You know the price?”

Swallowing hard he dared not to blink, but only nodded stupidly.

“Good, Jason Mathew Smith, we have a deal. I’ll see you in two years.”

“Two years?” that didn’t sound like enough time.

“Yes those are the terms. Enjoy your life,” she laughed and disappeared.

“Hello?” he heard his brother’s voice calling as he came up the street. “Hello?”

“Joey?”  Jason spun around.

His twelve year old brother came running over to him. “Jay!”

Hugging his brother, he just couldn’t believe his eyes. His brother was alive and hugging him. In two  years when the hell hounds came, he would remember this moment for the rest of eternity.

Broken

Written by R. J. Davies Mornix

She stared at the cup. He had given it to her as a gift; the cup had a picture he had taken of them on it. She had accidentally broke it. Shawn had tried to give it to her as a gift and she had broken it. It was when he had asked her out on a date, two weeks ago.

The cup showed up on her doorstep with flowers and a card this morning.

Looking back at the card she swallowed hard; if only she had met him months ago. It was too late now. She didn’t have the strength to invest in another relationship. Besides, he would probably end up like the others. Allan–she thought he would be different … That he would understand … But he didn’t and now he was gone.

Sarah knew she should just swear off men all together. She had tried a few times. Allan had told her she looked like an angel. Yes, she did turn heads, but lately she felt like she was just going through the motions: smiling when expected, being cordial and kind … It all felt fake. Life felt like a dress rehearsal and she was done with the practising; she just wanted the real deal. To meet the  right person who would look at her … Really look at her and see her … And not run away.

Looking in the mirror she brushed her hair slowly. “Pretty on the  outside … Pure rotten on the inside, ” her mother would tell her that on a daily basis. It didn’t let up as she blossomed in her teens; her mother’s boyfriends would always pay her too much attention, which then spurred the wrath of her mother. It was a no-win situation.

Shawn may be different, a little voice whispered in the back of her mind. He could be the one, it persisted.

Her eyes found the broken cup. Opening the card that came with it, ‘We are all a little broken, it’s having the strength to keep striving for that love connection that makes it all worthwhile. What do you say Sarah? Are you willing to take a chance on me? Shawn.’

Did she dare call him?

She shouldn’t.

There was a knock at the door. Putting the card down she went over and opened the door to find Shawn smiling at her.

“Well?” he grinned.

A smile crept over her lips. If it didn’t work out she could add him to her pile of broken boyfriends  she had buried in the backyard. Grinning she thought, It’s not that many: only six ex-boyfriends and one nosey neighbour. Her flower garden was thriving because of their contributions.

“Come on Sarah, I’m not like all the other guys.”

“Alright,” she nodded. “Let me get my purse and we can take a walk to discuss where you are taking me out for dinner tonight.”

“That’s my girl.”