Page 51 - HEF Pen & Ink 2022

Art By Karmen Knight
Feeling around on his arm, Vic discov- ered a sizable cut stitching diagonally across his lower arm. Wincing against the pain, Vic looked back towards the windowsill. A long rusty nail stuck out of the chipped wood. Covering the lac- eration with his hand, Vic decided that it would be better to finish the job before treating it. Any blood that he left behind wouldn’t be very useful as evidence after the building had been burnt to the ground. He squinted against the dark before mentally chiding himself for not bringing a flashlight. All of his preparation and he forgot to bring a flashlight.
Retrieving the canister
of gasoline, Vic began to
inspect the apartment. He
slowly and carefully crept
across the creaking boards
as he searched for the
kitchen. After a few ago-
nizing minutes of quietly
stumbling through the dark
and dusty apartment, Vic
came upon a small dingy
room covered in peeling,
flowery wallpaper. Card-
board boxes filled with
newspapers and dry cloth
sheets, undoubtedly placed there by the ev- er-helpful voice on the phone, sat draped across the peeling vinyl counters and archaic stove. Could this be any easier?
Quietly chuckling to himself, Vic opened the canister of gas before beginning to generous- ly drizzle it across the entire room. The flood of dark fluid washed over the newspaper, the an- cient floorboards, and the dry scraps of cloth. When the gasoline had sufficiently coated the contents of the kitchen, Vic stepped back for a moment. He carefully thought over the plan, en- suring that every task his employer had detailed had been completed. Once he had once again
completed his mental checklist, Vic reached into his pocket to retrieve his box of matches. He popped the box open and carefully retrieved a single match. He brought the scarlet tip of the match up against the lid of the box and struck
it, lighting the match and washing the room in
a fragile orange glow. Vic took a deep breath be- fore raising the match above the gasoline-stained piles of cloth and paper, already imagining the rest of his night once this job was complete.
Just as he was about to let the match go, a flick- er of movement caught his eye. Vic jumped in
surprise, quickly twisting towards the movement while trying to use the impotent light of the match to probe into the darkness. That’s when he saw something.
The Something’s posture resembled a sort of hunched monkey. Its skin was the
color of red meat and had
the unsettling texture of striated muscle. Thin veins criss-crossed its body. Sheaths of a bone-like shell covered parts of its arms and a line of vertebrae-like plates ran down
its back. Its head was a blank, apathetic mask of bone, coldly regarding Vic with eyes that didn’t exist. Fleshy tendrils emerging from a slit on its face constantly twitched as though tasting the air. It couldn’t have been more than 3 feet tall, but it exuded an aura that made Vic break out in a cold sweat. It was perched on the floor a few feet away from Vic. It regarded him coldly, the twitching of its mouth-tendrils the only move- ment in the room for a moment.
Merely regarding the Something made Vic start to feel nauseous. Colors began to swim in front of his eyes and the room seemed to lean heavily to one side. Vic stumbled, beginning to
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