Kevin's Horror Poem
Zisi's Ode to Zhanna Friske
a short story by
for the "On The Dark Side Of The Street" Project
Admittedly the odds were heavily piled against her. Sheila was wearing heels, shoes she despised at the best of times. Luckily it was her ample rump that took the brunt of her graceless contact with cement. She chuckled in slight pain, it could have been much worse.
“Bitch!” In frustration Shelia cursed her best friend, louder than she'd intended.
In realizing her error she glanced around, a motion that abruptly turned her surroundings into a nauseating blur. As luck would have it however no one was in the vicinity or within earshot. “I'm very drunk.” She mused to herself. Sheila giggled heartily stopping when the bitter taste of bile hit the back of her throat and lingered, “Kiss me now, sweet thing!” She couldn't help but break out in uncontrollable bursts of laughter again. “I must look insane.”
Wait… was that Jenny, Tamara and the bitch? She squinted. She could make out a collection of elongated shadows disappearing out of sight. She considered calling out, to bring further damage to her plight. No… screw them! She needed time to stew on matters, to clear her head. A steaming hot bath would do wonders, she mused, a late night rendezvous in aromatic suds with her ever-dependable friend. “He” most certainly wouldn't look past her to introduce himself to a wide mouthed, big titted slut. Thankfully he had no tongue or limbs of his own, only a long cord that plugged into the wall. She would forgive Erica, in time, she knew this for they were great friends. Though it was doubtful her husband would and boy did he ever have a temper. “Oh Erica you silly, silly... slut.” Sheila smirked in spite of herself, then berated herself within no time whatsoever. “Fuck girl, you are such a cunt! It's no wonder you don't have a man.”
Sheila resigned herself to a seat on the cold hard surface of a curb after several unsuccessful attempts at rising in an environment that wouldn't cease spinning. “Damn! I must look like quite the sight. Quick anyone. I'm yours... literally.” She couldn't help but smirk at her own inebriated humor. A sudden realization struck her like a missed period following a one night stand. She was well and truly fucked!
Her friends had drove her here, across town. Shelia wasn't the type that prayed or went to church though it was at exactly this point in her life that she wished she had someone, anyone to turn to. She thrust a hand into her purse, rummaged around blindly for a comically long time only to withdraw it empty.
It was then when it seemed things couldn't possibly get any worse that she heard a muffled noise.
What she could only describe as a scrape from across the way on the dark side of the street. “I must be bloody hearing things.” There it was again. Sheila concentrated on where she imagined the noise to be, crossing her fingers in hopes that it was but a curious hungry animal. “Do I have anything in my purse to fend off an attacking horde of ravenous garbage diving mammals?” She began to giggle in spite of herself then stopped as something aggressively interrupted.
“Stay there! “ A command though strangely a voice she was familiar with, “Turn your head Shi.” It was Erica. That was her name for her, had been since pre-school. But how? “I don't want you to see me, you'll think differently of me. Please turn your head. I'll tell you when it's safe to look.” The soft, soothing, clear voice was in her head. A somewhat urgent edge without menace or threat. Sheila closed her eyes and turned her head as instructed. For several long seconds nothing, then a loud cracking like a tree being struck by lightning broke the silence, a sound that carried making Sheila jump. Would the cacophony wake the neighborhood? It was followed again by nothing.
An abandoned row of store fronts directly in front of Sheila's position sparked into life, a vivid green flame, for a split second its brightness so powerful it forced her eyes to flicker open. An image blindingly more stark than the fire burned itself into her retinas. A silhouette, a form, drastically outside of any natural dimension. A vision so intense it could not possibly make sense, even in her current state. “I'm sorry Shi, he just wasn't the man I thought he was... he was ahh… much more.”
“Erica?” A single word bursting with unmeasurable query.
Sheila turned. The nightmarish outline upon the wall could not have possibly been... She had not heard the soft footfalls of the figure as it had approached. Sheila began to recognize something as the form moved closer still partially obscured by shadow, it was the pattern of what was once her friend's shirt no longer covering a voluptuous torso but utilized in another purpose entirely. Scrunched within a clenched collection of furry digits, now an entirely different shade of red as it moved in a swift pace across a contorting visage covered in chunks of grue and crimson. Chilled to the bone, unable to form a word, Sheila watched fascinated as the creature shed its blanket of fur, became transfixed as it dissolved into nothingness on the street. The creature's jaw unhinged with a sickening click. Clusters of sharp fangs slipping against their companions as the twisting of muscle and popping of sinew pulled the face into something decidedly less bestial. Sheila would swear her jaw dropped as a slug like muscle in its mouth shrank whilst the flesh surrounding it repurposed itself, a sequence not of sleepless nightmare but instead tear shedding beauty, to reveal a face boasting human dimension.
“I'm sorry Shi.” Sheila lifted her gaze to meet her companions.
“I'm fuckn' drunk, I must be.”
“Yea, let’s get you home. I've got a nasty taste in my mouth and I need a shower.”