The Smell

By Stormcomin

....The sermon was on Ephesians, and how we should forgive one another as God in Christ had forgiven us, and Pastor Tim was so convincing in his manner. He was a good man—a kind man with a golden heart. And his followers…they were my friends—my comfort. I smiled, and turned to the faces around me that I had come to know and love. They smiled back.
....There was Susan. Beautiful Susan, with her golden hair and platinum smile. Beside her, her husband Ron lovingly held her hand. If ever there was a couple that deserved the best in life, it was those two. And I silently wished them many, many years of joy.
....David Crawford sat a few spaces away from them on the same isle. Sadness etched his eyes, and I felt deeply for him. Unlike Ron and Susan, David had had a tough life. Financial problems, an ex-wife that cheated on him and still managed to steal his children with the help of the justice system…and it all showed heavily in his eyes. I prayed for him.
....My good friend Jim Guthrie and his son Teddy sat a few pews in front of me. Jim was leaning over him and…(what’s that smell?)…and…and he was whispering something…(oh, that smell!)…he was…whispering…(what is that SMELL?)…something…
....I couldn’t believe it!
....But there it was, right in front of me!
....And the smell was suffocating!....
....Jim…the man…the creature’s arms were around the boy. His face, full of hungry smiles and drenched with the stench of putrid, underlying lust as it hovered just inches above the boys’ neck.
....I could feel the heat from the beast’s sickening breath as it formed an inescapable embrace around my neck
....The boy’s face was filled with innocence and comfort, but he didn’t understand what was happening. He didn’t know that at any second the thick, pasty drool of perversion would drip from the creature’s mouth and puddle in steaming gobs on his shirt.
....I tried desperately to wipe it off my chest, but it only made my hand feel greasy…filthy, and it churned my stomach.
....I sat there and I watched…and the smell grew stronger and stronger. My muscles…every last muscle in my body grew more and more rigid with each passing second, as they strained to react.
....I tried not to look! I tried to use all the techniques that I had learned in therapy, but the stench was just too powerful. It attacked my brain with an overwhelming seizure of hatred…
....…and I couldn’t take it any more!
....I don’t remember pulling the pocketknife from my pants, but there it was. And I plunged it deep into the beast’s throat.
....Blood gushed fourth in a fountain of glory, cleansing my face with a shower of scarlet relief…
....…and the smell began to subside.
....I looked down at the boy. He was OK now. Although that creature’s blood covered his face within a mix of tears and retribution, I could understand the stricken look on his face. It was relief.
....It was gratitude.
....But then the screams started. People grabbed me—strangers on all sides of me, pulling me, holding me, yelling in my ear!
....Who…WHAT are these creatures? They’re everywhere! Growling… howling in a twisted language of deceit. What are they saying? Why do they smell so bad!
....I struggled in their grip, trying to break free of their claws but they were so strong. And the boy…he was yelling now, looking at the dying creature that had tortured him for so long. But what was he screaming? I couldn’t understand the word…”Daaaaaaad! Daaaaaaaad” …that word…what did it mean?
....I turned away…confused…still locked in the devilish grip of the beasts. And the smell was intense now…so horribly intense! I had to escape!
....I used the smell as my strength and I broke free. The creatures tried to get another grip on me but I slashed out with my knife, creating more screams and heavenly geysers of blood gushing into the air.
....They back away and I looked desperately for a place to run!
....But then I stopped as something caught my eye. One of the creatures, dressed in a long, dark robe stood a few feet away in front me. His words…soft, gentle…called to me. I began to feel something inside me soften. His face, kind and loving…familiar? It didn’t seem like a monster at all.
....“John. John it’s OK.” he said.
....Was that my name?
....That strange trickle of peace began filling my mind with ease and I felt the desperate need to collapse in his arms and cry. I wanted…(NO!)…to believe him, that…(It’s a trick!)…he was not one of these creatures.
....He almost succeeded.
....I stabbed the knife out in front of me and he froze, his jaw sprang open and revealed the long, jagged fangs. Although the blade did not contact his flesh, my intention was clearly made.
....Then the other beasts, sensing an opportunity, started moving in on me again…their fangs dripping with their own sick desires.
....I knew it was a trick!
....I grabbed the closest one and smashed his face into the pew closest to me. Teeth, blood and splinters of wood rained onto the floor and again I felt the overwhelming surge of relief. I moved fast, before they could gather their senses, and sprinted for the door.
....But outside, I couldn’t comprehend what I was seeing.
....The street was filled with cars parked at panicked angles with bright, flashing lights that startled and hypnotized my eyes. At first, there were men standing beside the cars and they were ordering me not to move. I understood them, but I didn’t know why they would be after me when there were monsters right inside the building.
....But then it all started to come together. They too wore disguises and with my eyes I found I easily peeled it away and exposed them for what they really were.
....And now their words…just grotesque, slobbering growls. Their guns, held tightly in their claws…were just the tools they needed to have their way with me.
....I could not let that happen…again.
....So I ran…
....But their minds were as strong as their odor.
....Explosions filled the air, and so powerful were their thoughts, that they made me believe I could not run any more. Incredible, piercing pains surged through my legs and back, but strangely, it relieved the smell at the same time…so I gave in. I stopped running and laid down the cool, cool grass.
....
....***

....This room is nice—there’s no furniture, and the walls are padded and completely bare, but it has a nice, soothing white color to it. I really like this place. In fact, I wish I had never left it the first time. But, it doesn’t matter now, because I’m back.
....Lots of things are starting to become familiar to me again. The padded floor…the meshed windows…the orderlies in the hallway, playing their little games of torture with the other patients.
....And the smell…
....…it’s stronger than ever.

Unauthorized Copying Is Prohibited. Ask the author first.
Copyright 2004 Stormcomin
Published on Tuesday, November 9, 2004.     Filed under: "Short Story"
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Comments on "The Smell"

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  • A former member wrote: Long..... But well worth the read! I loved it!

  • call to arms On Monday, November 15, 2004, call to arms (31)By person wrote:

    This is nothing short of amazing. Deffinitly something I'll read again and again. :)

  • A former member wrote: nice wording "heavenly geysers" and "pasty drool of perversionn" would be my favorites

  • Stormcomin On Tuesday, November 9, 2004, Stormcomin (32)By person wrote:

    Repressed memories. Forgotten horrors that constantly circulate deep in the back of your mind. What does it take to trigger these into conscious. What happens then? Again, formatting issues. Anyone know how to correct this?

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