Short Stories, Poems, and Other Truths
Squeerill, squeerill on the sill,
oh how I long for you to kill.
Fluffy tail, beady eyes,
I dream of only your demise.
You scamper scamper fro and to,
a pane o' glass twixt me and you.
Squeerill, squeerill do you know,
that I shall make your squeerill blood flow?
I know not how, this I admit,
but to your death I do commit.
I wait and sit and bide my time,
and to myself repeat this rhyme:
Squeerill, squeerill on the sill,
oh how I long for you to kill.
Understanding washed over me when she turned her face to the sky. I glanced at Hodgins and knew he was seeing it, too. We’d had it wrong. But no one could blame us.
The call had been a replay of countless others, and when you’ve been in this business long enough you know better than to look too deep. The ones who wanna get close, the guys who try to dig below the surface? They don’t last long. But me an’ Hodgins, we’d been doing this a long time, and like I said we’d responded to that sort of call more times than either of us could remember.
We were the second medic team on scene that night, but based on the call from dispatch we didn’t anticipate transporting anyone. It was a night for the Coroner’s vans and the Forensics team. We were just a line on a checklist. The first team was standing near the front of their vehicle, talking to a cop, when we pulled up. Their breath steamed in the flashing lights from the cruisers. It looked cold as hell out there.
Read moreShhh!
The first rule is Stay Silent
You must stay silent.
So very quiet.
Do not cry out for your mother.
Do not whisper a prayer, nor a plea.
You are past the point of divine intervention.
You want to scream.
This is natural.
But you mustn’t.
Stifle the whimper that’s in your throat.
Okay, that’s better.
But can you soften your breathing?
No, not like that.
Don’t hold your breath.
Just breathe naturally.
Like She isn’t even here.
Slow in.
Slow out.
Smooth.
Easy.
Like you haven’t a care in the world.
Yes, that’s it!
That’s how quiet you must stay.
Now stop!
Do not move.
The second rule is Stay Still.
Do not pull the blanket over your head.
She’ll hear the rustling.
Do not scratch your nose.
Do not cross your fingers.
You are past the point of luck.
You want to flee.
This is natural.
But you mustn’t stir.
Not even a toe.
That’s it, just like that.
A little statue tucked a’bed.
Like you haven’t a care in the world.
Keep your eyes open!
Do not allow them to close for longer than a blink.
The third and final rule is Stay Awake.
Do not be lulled by the silence.
Your lids are heavy.
The fear is exhausting.
Do not waste energy hoping She’ll just go away.
You are past the point of hope.
You want nothing more than to fall asleep and wake to find this all nightmare.
This is natural.
But you mustn’t slumber.
She is watching.
Even now, Her teeth gleam through the bars of the heat register.
No!
Do not look!
Have you forgotten rule number two?
Stay still.
Do not turn your head.
But know She is there.
She is waiting.
She hungers.
And She grows impatient.
Hear Her nails on the metal duct?
Tap-scratch.
Tap-scratch.
Tap-scratch.
You must Stay Silent.
You must Stay Still.
You must Stay Awake.
Only five more hours until sunrise.
There you go, just like that.
Quiet and still and never, ever sleeping.
Like you haven’t a care in the world.
Like you haven’t a terror in the dark.
The End.