0bscura1

“Take you pills, darling. Here.”
“Thanks, dear.”
Millie took the red, blue and two yellow capsules and swallowed them, washing them down with the water Henry handed her.
“Good job. Let’s hope you won’t be needing them anymore soon.”
“Yes…”
“I’ll be on my way then.”
Henry put both his hands on his knees and pushed himself up from the wooden chair, accompanied by a grunt. He started walking towards the bedroom door.

It’s been four years since the accident.
When Millie drove her bicycle down Heffner Lane on that stormy afternoon, the first lightning strike hit a parked car she was just passing.
It startled her, of course, and when she just began to peddle faster, a second lightning bolt hit a street lantern just in front of her. The damn thing came crashing down and she had to dodge it.
The third one hit her right in the back.
With everything going dark, she fell down to the asphalt and couldn’t move.
After a while, Millie came to her senses and opened her eyes.
She tried to get up, but couldn’t move a muscle.
A cry for help didn’t work either.
The downpour started to feel like dull razor blades carving the flesh on her back. The pain she felt was excruciating.
With her left cheek pushed against the warm, wet ground, the only thing she could move were her eyes. Her sight, however, was quite blurry from the rain splashing from the road right into her face.
She could taste the sour liquid dripping in her open mouth. But there was no way for her to press her lips together. No muscles seemed to work, except the ones in her eyes.
Millie looked around as far as her eyes would let her, but there was no one near.
The afternoon sky turned darker and darker and the only light that was in her line of sight was above Smith’s Bakery.
Desperation seeped in, just like the rain in her right ear.
Her Henry was only four blocks away, unaware of what had just happened. Probably sitting in the living room on his lazy chair, reading the newspaper. Waiting a few more hours for her to come home, not knowing she was on her way home early today.

Heffner Lane showed no sign of life and the sound of the rain crashing down around her, started to become more and more like a static noise. Her right ear started to fill up with rain and the drops pounded hard on her skull. Like acetal drumstick beads, beating over and over again on the snare drum skin of her tragus.
From a distance a rumbling sound started to close in on her.
Although it had been exceptionally hot for a December day, Millie started to feel cold.
The warm asphalt hardly gave any solace, while the freezing rain was making her shiver and her skin more sensitive, each passing second. Her unmovable lips were turning a deep purple and her skin went from pink to a pale blueish tone.
The left side of her face felt like it was digging itself into the roadbed, pushing down with an invisible force as if someone had placed his boot comfortably on her head.
 
How long had she been lying here? How long until someone would find her?
Would someone find her before it was too late? Where was Henry? Would he miss her already? Would he be coming, looking for her?
Warm tears mixed with the cold streams of rain until they had the same temperature.
She tried to move her fingers…
Nothing…
Her legs…
Nothing…
Absolutely nothing would listen to her brain impulses.
A deep stuttering sigh escaped her mouth, which was wet on the outside, but mostly dry on the inside. She could feel the tiny puddle of rainwater inside her left cheek. But her tongue and throat were getting dry and sore. She couldn’t even lick her own lips.
The dark sky became even blacker, as if a thick blanket was spreading above town. Millie closed her eyes and started to give up on hope.
Samsung’s Over The Horizon started playing in the background. Far, far away…

The next thing she saw was an orange pinkish hue burning through her closed eyelids.
She tried to open them, but the light was too bright.
In the distance she could her faint voices.
“So, you mean she will never walk again?…”
“Chances are little, but with a lot of support and training, who can say what she will be able to do in the future. Stranger things have happened. I believe you should never give up on hope. She is a strong woman.”
“Yes… she is.”
Millie remembers she started to cry immediately after recognizing Henry’s voice.

Henry got startled by the first bang. That was a close one!
He looked up from his newspaper and stared at the window. Thank god, it was not until another few hours that Millie would be on her way home. He wouldn’t want her to go through this terrible weather, so hopefully this thunderstorm will have passed by the time she leaves.
Another flash and crash lit up the sky. They were following each other up quite quickly.
The lightning was giving the pouring rain a smoky kind of look. A grey and white, creepy and unsettling scene from a scary movie.
The third one shook him right in the back of his seat.
If this wasn’t gonna be over in three hours, he was going to call Millie and tell her to wait for him to pick her up.
“Damn! That was a scary one!”

The ethanol fueled fireplace was perfect for days like this.
Henry looked at the flames dancing around and thought to himself: “Ah this is cozy. I’m glad I fired it up. This should go well with a nice glass of whiskey.”.
He put his newspaper aside and got up from the lazy chair. He felt his old bones argue, but they soon would be settling down with the nice, warm touch of the old Highlander.
“Just a little. Just a taste. And it’s kinda after dark anyways”, he chuckled.
Millie wouldn’t have it: him drinking during the day. But she was not going to be here for another few hours or so. And really, wouldn’t it hurt anyone?
The dark, gold liquid was swirling around in its crystal habitat, releasing a sweet scent of oak, oranges, cinnamon and chocolate.
“Mmmmm. That’s it.”
He could taste the sweet liquid flowing over the back of his tongue.
After he finished his drink, he placed the empty glass on the coffee table and grabbed his newspaper again.
There was an unusual article on a dead body found behind the Adelaide Barr Smith Library in the middle of the road, about a month ago. The deceased man was still not identified and was wearing unknown brands of clothes and shoes. Apparently he wasn’t carrying anything with him. The poor man was shot and left for dead. However, there was little blood to be found, there were footprints leading into an alley nearby.
The police were still looking for witnesses in the area.
“Well, I’m of no use then”, Henry thought. They lived a few hours away from Adelaide.
After reading some more, his eyelids started to feel heavy. The next article was slowly getting blurry until it wasn’t visible at all.

After a little while, Henry woke up to a woman screaming his name. It was terrible, blood chilling outcry and the voice sounded quite familiar. He threw his newspaper to the floor and kicked his glass off the coffee table. The shattering splinters were raining down like the outpour outside and Henry cursed Mary’s, Joseph’s and their son’s names, adding a few names of well-known but rarely mentioned private parts of the human body.
He stood up from his lazy chair and rubbed his eyes.
“Millie? Is that you?”
There was no one answering. He looked at the clock and saw it was almost five.
His wife wasn’t home yet and outside, the storm was as intense as before. The rain was still coming down like crazy. She must have been waiting for the storm to pass. But hadn’t called him. Usually she would let him know if she was gonna be running late. Henry decided to give her a call himself. He took the phone form the hook and dialed her mobile number.
She wasn’t picking up and a scary, dark though slowly started to develop in his brain.
He tried again until he heard the voicemail lady telling him to leave a message after the beep.
After a few tries, he dialed the office’s landline.
“Hello, Jade Projects, this is Janet. How may I help you?”
“Hi Janet, this is Henry. Is my wife still there?”
“Oh, hi, Henry. No, she left hours ago. Just before the storm hit.”
“Oh bloody Drongo. She must have been caught in it! Thanks Janet! Bye.”
“Can I…..”
He hung up before she could finish her sentence.
To be honest, he was not at all happy about Millie riding her bike to and from work, but she was headstrong about this.
There had been a few cases of people gone missing in their neighborhood, not too long ago.
This is what scared Henry in an instance, because what if Millie got attacked?
Without thinking, he grabbed the car keys and his jacket and ran outside to his old, grey Mercedes 190. Although it was hardly seven steps to his car, he was already soaking wet when he got behind the wheel.
 
“…She is a strong woman.”
“Yes… she is.”
“We’re gonna have to keep her here for a while. We’ll make sure she’s comfortable. Why don’t you go home, change into some dry clothes, get something to eat and bring her necessary things back. With the medication we have administered, she’ll be asleep for the rest of the night, maybe tomorrow too. I’ll have someone make the bed next to her, so you can sleep here too. How does that sound?”
“Yes… Yes.. Good, I guess. Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.”
Millie overheard the conversation between her husband and the doctor, but she couldn’t see anything but the bright orange light trying to penetrate her eyelids. She tried to open her eyes but to no avail. After hearing his voice, her eyes started to burn. That feeling, when you start to cry, but this time there were no tears running down her face.
She tried to ask Henry what was happening but there was some sort of lump in her throat that prevented her from making a sound. She had no clue about where she was or how she got there. Everything was a blur and by the sound of all the noises around her, the obvious thing was that she somehow ended up in a hospital.
The only thing she could remember was a terrible freezing feeling all over her body, but she had no idea why. Somewhere in the distance she still felt this chilling sensation inside her chest.
Footsteps indicated that someone was walking away from her. That had to be her husband, Hank. Or Fred. Or.. Wait..
She couldn’t even remember his name…

Days and weeks went by and Millie was still in a coma. Henry visited her daily. Every day he read her the newspaper and told her about the things that happened at Jade Projects.
About how Ted got worked up, because his documents regarding the TFI investigation were mixed up and made him loose the case.
About Jennifer, who found out she’s pregnant.
And about the couple next door that got divorced, because he cheated on her.
This was all coming from the goodness in this man’s heart, but Millie had no idea what or who Jeffrey was talking about.
Was his name Jeffrey?.. She still couldn’t remember his name… And she still couldn’t open her eyes…
It seemed like years had gone by, that she was lying there in this hospital bed. A familiar voice talking to her about all kinds of things. Things she should remember.
But there was nothing.
Nothing but the hospital sounds: The constant beeping of the machines in the room, the chatter of nurses in the hallway. The bright, orange light that went dark after so many hours, just to come back and wake her up again.
And the weird sensation all over her body and the faint smell of lavender, when the nurses told Millie they were going to wash her. At first, she had no idea what was going on, but after some time, it became clear that it was a damp washcloth with soap. When she started to realize that, she felt an tremendously overwhelming, maybe irrational shame wash over her, instead of the lavender soap. Her face felt like it was glowing, burning even. And there was nothing she could do, but surrender.
Now, after weeks of this daily routine, she kinda got used to it.
And instead of the shame, she felt anger.
Anger, that she couldn’t wake up from this nightmare.
Anger, that she couldn’t remember anything.
Anger, that she couldn’t move or say anything to the nurse that was too rough on her sore back. She couldn’t cry or scream while she was in agony. The washcloths were ripping her skin, tormenting her spine and she had to just lay there, take it in and let it all happen. She could feel her muscles in her face pull together when he touched her.
And with that anger came the dreams.
The dark, twisted dreams.

It took almost three months for Millie to wake up from the coma.
The doctors told Henry that she would still have a long way to go, to be the old Millie again, if she ever would get there.
Chances were, her memory would eventually come back, but that would take time.
They eventually had a positive outlook on her walking again, too.
Millie wore a big scar on her back, burnt from the lightning that hit her spine. A lot of surgery had been done to correct it.
But all of this was about four years ago.
Four years of hospital visits, therapies, it’s been hard and trying times for both Millie and Henry.

Henry really struggled staying positive about it all. He shook his head and sighed while he closed the bedroom door behind him. His Millie hadn’t been out of the house for all these years, except for hospital visits. Recovery was slow, even with all the therapy she had been undergoing. At times it was like she already had given up.
The red pill was an antidepressant. It helped with her mood swings. She was less angry and less negative about life ever since she took those, but it was far from optimal. They had a long and tiring journey behind them, but there was still no real end in sight.

Downstairs, he took the newspaper from the hallway floor and headed into the kitchen. The smell of coffee was doing him good, though. He grabbed a mug and poured him some hot, black brew. In a few, Marge, the caregiver would come by, to help out with Millie, so Henry could go to Jade Projects and finish some paint work on the interior.
He still had enough time for some breakfast and the newspaper.

He opened the Gazette and the first thing he noticed was an article about yet another dead body found.
“Good god, when will this end…”
For over a year now, no less than twenty-six deaths were reported within a 35 mile radius. And all victims were harmed in the most inhumane ways. Lost limbs, torn off heads that were found a few streets over, claw and bite marks all over the bodies. Bloody crime scenes set the stage for months, in this town and the surrounding ones. It was horrible, a death spree that took his toll and didn’t seem to stop, since the police were still no step further to finding the one responsible.
Henry’s stomach turned and was done with his breakfast before he had one bite.
 
Marge knocked on the kitchen door and came in. “Good morning!”
“Good morning, Marge, come on in. Coffee’s ready, if you want to pour yourself one.”
“Thank you, Henry. I might in a bit. But let me go upstairs to see how Millie is doing first.”
“Yeah, you probably should. I just gave her the medicines a few minutes ago.”
“That’s good, Henry. Now, you go and get to work, let me handle it here. We’ll be alright.”
“Thank you, Marge. I wouldn’t know what to do without you.”
“Aww, that’s kind of you. Now scoot”, Marge winked.
“I’ll be back in a few hours”, Henry replied.
Marge walked upstairs and Henry went to get his shoes in the hallway.
He looked down and saw a dark red stain on the carpet.
Henry knelt down and touched the scarlet-brownish stuff with his index finger. It felt sticky when he rubbed it between his finger and thumb.
“What in the…”
Did Marge just walk that in?… There was another stain on the stairs.
“Marge?!”, he yelled.
“Yes, Henry?”
“Did you step in something? There something under your sole?”
Marge checked both her shoes, and replied: “No nothing, why?”
“There’s a few stains in the hallway and up the stairs.”
“Oh, I can take care of that later, if you like.”
“Sure, Marge, thank you.”
“Y’welcome.”

Millie’s dreams from the time she was in a coma, were like none she ever had.
They were all different, yet there were always three recurring things in every single one of them.
One was the fact that all the dreams took place in their little town or just outside, but there was always something off. The sky had a red glow to it, which made everything seem depressingly gloomy.
Every tree, every building, every parked car seemed like they had the same deep red hue over them.
The second was the lack of life. The whole town seemed like it was abandoned, yet in the distance she could hear a thousand screams.
And the third was that she had a feeling she was being watched by a number of shadowy creatures. She could never really see them, but they were like a haze. Almost as if they were faint black shadows in the corner of her eyes and when she tried looking right at them, they were gone. Until the day she came out of the coma.
That night she dreamt her last scary dream and it was by far the worst.
In fact, it was the last time she ever dreamt. And she still doesn’t know if she just doesn’t really dream anymore or if that last one scared the hell out of her so bad, she refuses to dream subconsciously.
In this particular dream, she felt like she was walking on all fours, growling at the shadows.
The town square was buried in lifeless bodies. One more mutilated than the next.
The nasty taste of metal in her mouth, the pungent smell of rotting flesh penetrating her nose.
The screams were louder than before and they seem to originate from that towering pile of human remains in the middle of the square. The sulfur dioxide filled air was almost too thick and hot to breath in, it was like the sky was on fire. A dark, blackened cloud was ominously lingering above town, as if it was foreboding something so terrible, this scenery of death and destruction just seemed the beginning…
One of the shadowy creatures stood out in the distance. It was bigger and much taller than the rest of them. Millie hadn’t noticed this one before, she knew, because his presence shriveled her soul and turned it cold as ice.
Suddenly the dark cloud started circling around as if there was a storm brewing.
With a devastating loud crash, a lightning bolt shot out from the cloud and struck the ground like a bomb explosion, like ten yards in front of the demon-like shadow figure.
Rocks and rubble flew all around and when the dust cleared up, the tall creature arose on the place of impact.
Just seconds later, another blinding thunder light with the same impact had the macabre character appear another ten yards closer.
Millie felt she was nailed to the ground, unable to move away from this threatening display.
And after another blast of rubble and lightning, she was able see more of this creature.
He had some sort of staff in his hands and was wearing a long, black robe with a hood that only revealed his bright, blue, freezing eyes.
The thought of an old 50’s black & white television set, with static and shifting images came to mind when she looked at him. That’s how he moved. There was an unreal, shape shifting tremble in his appearance. One minute he looked like a shadow of a brute Viking, with a horned helmet, the next he looked like the Grim Reaper. Within analog-like static noise and flickering, this monstrosity took on many forms at once.

The last lightning struck in front of Millie, she could feel the dirt and rocks hit her skin like a thousand pins and needles. When the dust was settled, she looked up at the two blue eyes.
The stench was unbearable when the behemoth spoke:
“Sha’bahl-Yoth! Da’r Yi-nash Sha’bahl Hee Lgeb Thro’Dohg -Yah!”
Millie never heard these words, although they sounded familiar in a way.
She knew what he was telling her. What he was commanding her…
She now knew who he was…
A force made her bow deep to the ground. She could smell the dust on the ground. Her scaly claws with black nails were scratching the surface of the cobble stones, like they were trying to hold on to them. Her arms, or rather limbs, were covered in both ash grey feathers and black-blueish fur. She screamed from the top of her lungs, but it was a raw, chilling shriek, like metal touching dry ice, amplified by a broken Marshall with its reverb to the max.
And then she woke up, in a cold sweat.
She could see Henry sitting next to her hospital bed.
“Sha’bahl-Yoth…”, she whispered.
Henry looked up at his wife.
“Nurse! Nurse! She woke up! Take it easy sweetheart, relax, I’m here… I’m here…”

After Henry was done at Jade Projects, he went home. It was already six o’clock in the evening. Marge would probably already have dinner ready.

When he got home, the table was still set for breakfast, like he left it. His cheese sandwich was left untouched, still on its plate. This was weird. Marge usually cleans the breakfast table. And there were no pans on the stove, which usually welcome him home, with the smell of whatever’s for dinner that evening.
“Marge?…”
There was no reply.
Henry walked into the hallway and noticed the red stain was still there too.
“Marge?!”
He walked up the stairs, to the bedroom.
When he opened the door, he saw his wife standing over a bloody, mangled corpse, what was left of their caregiver. Millie’s mouth covered in blood, with a vicious, broad smile. Torn flesh dangling from her teeth.
Pieces of Marge were everywhere, on the walls, dripping from the ceiling, intestines were spread out on the bedroom floor, like some sort of gruesome work of an insane artist.
Millie looked at him, with that stomach-turning scarlet smile and said “Sha’bahl-Yoth.”
The last thing Henry saw, was his wife’s knees bending the wrong way with a cracking sound and her lunging forward. The woman who had been bedridden for four years, took a five yard leap towards him.
Her mouth with razor sharp teeth, just an inch away, opening up, a metallic smell of death from her throat and her black claws digging into his neck, while the fangs crushed into his face.
Before his last breath, Henry could hear a dark voice behind Millie say:
“Good… Da’r Yi-nash…”