The Manicheans

She stared at the powder for a long time, hesitantly playing with the straw that lied on the table before her. She had never done hard drugs before. She heard so many stories of kids snorting too much of it and overdosing in bathrooms of clubs. She wasn’t sure whether she should start a habit that she knew was evil. But what else could she do to save her career?

She couldn’t lose more weight as it was. She tried to starve herself but it simply didn’t work. She had to use something that would cut her appetite. Pills were too dangerous, and they could make her sick. She laughed at her own self, thinking that pills were more lethal than this. Yes, she was really desperate.

There was no way she’d return to her job at the pub. Loud drunken guys grabbing her ass when she waitressed their tables belonged to the past. Even her boss tried to have sex with her in the bathroom of the bar one night. And he was married! No, she would not go back to this.

She had found this ad in the newspaper and had gone to the agency, wondering if she had what it took to become a model. She was tall enough, and her facial features looked stunning. The only problem was her weight. She had a slender body, but to modeling standards, she needed to lose another ten pounds. She had never suffered from anorexia or bulimia her whole life, and she didn’t have the energy to start now. She needed something quick and easy. Her acquaintance Gloria told her about doing Snowhite. That was her trick to stay ultra thin. After getting in touch with Gloria’s dealer, she had bought a gram.

Convinced that what she was about to attempt was the right decision, she pressed the straw at the end of the line and quickly inhaled. She imitated what she saw in a movie once. When she looked at the pocket mirror, she felt proud of herself. She had done it like a pro, and it wasn’t that weird after all. She smiled. She snorted another line, this time even quicker.

She let her head rest on top of the couch and focused on the silence of her small studio apartment. A sudden pleasant rush hit her mind, and she closed her eyes. She liked what she was experiencing. It made her feel good, so good.

She repeated her snorting exercise religiously every two hours. She got so high, she stayed up all night, and finally managed to crash in the morning for a few hours. Wow, she had to learn how to regulate her consumption so that it wouldn’t mess up too much with her sleeping cycle, she thought. That thing was addictive.

The trick worked, and she started eating less. She actually stopped eating all together when she constantly snorted, and she never felt tired. This substance had magical effects. How did she not think of doing that earlier?

She was happy. Things were working out for her, finally. Soon she would be able to rent a bigger apartment, and maybe buy a car? She had many more extravagant dreams.

One morning, she noticed something strange about her skin. It was a small black dot, right on her earlobe. Unsure of what it could have been, she applied some foundation on the spot and went on with her routine. The next day, however, the black dot had grown bigger, and was now covering the entire earlobe area, up to the cartilage. When she checked her other ear, she noticed the same thing.

She didn’t know what to do. Today was supposed to be her breakthrough at the agency. She had several appointments with designers scheduled in the afternoon. She applied more foundation, and snorted a few lines.

When she arrived at the first designer’s location, she felt tense. She hoped for the best to happen. She entered the studio confident, and gave them their best smile. Before trying on clothes, she excused herself to go to the bathroom.

She looked in the mirror and noticed another black dot. It had spread to the tip of her nose. She panicked and grabbed her make up bag with shaky hands. While she applied more foundation, she stared at her bloodshot eyes. The dot had to disappear, she kept thinking, she’d see a doctor tomorrow.

The appointment went well, and she continued with her day, applying foundation on every black spot she noticed and snorting Snowhite to give herself motivation. She came back home in the evening more amped than a power plant. She lied in bed and stared at the ceiling for a long time. She’d given her best today, and she prayed to get a job.

She got woken up by a weird itching sensation down her foot. When she turned on the light, she saw that some of her toes had also turned black. She ran to the bathroom and as she took off her clothes she realized that the black had spread to almost her entire face, her neck, and her arms.

She didn’t know what to do but cry. She stayed secluded in her bathroom, and snorted more Snowhite to calm herself down. There was no way she could go outside looking like this. She felt clueless as to what to do. She could not call friends, or family. What would they think of her? Nobody knew she did drugs, and they would be devastated if they saw her like this.

She sat on the edge of her bathtub holding her face in her hands, crying until no tears were left, desperately searching for a solution to her misery. Why did it have to happen to her? She wanted this so bad, and it had been taken away from her, like everything else in her life. She wished she could scream at the top of her lungs how unfair it was to ruin her dream like this. Whoever was responsible, she deserved reparation. She’d call Gloria’s dealer tomorrow.

She stared at herself for a long time in the mirror. In an intense moment of mental delusion, she grabbed a razor blade and started cutting through the black areas all over body, frenetically butchering her skin. The blood flowed like a purifying river, and the black was finally disappearing. There was no return from this, so she’d go all the way, she thought. She snorted to kill the pain, and she started slashing her own face, her expressionless eyes locked on her reflection.

Three days later, there was a knock at the door, but nobody came to open. The superintendant had to use his skeleton key to enter the studio apartment. What he found was unprecedented.

*********

“…and this brings us to tonight breaking news: America’s drug consumers are in danger. Several victims of a flesh-eating substance mixed with Snowhite caused their flesh to rot leading to devastating effects such as permanent scarring or worse, loss of limbs. In the most extreme cases, death may occur…”

*********

Don’t do drugs. 🙂 Flesh-eating cocaine hits LA and New York

She stood by herself, her only source of light coming from her Ipod that dimly flashed in the darkness. She had no way of figuring out where she was, and whether an exit was near.

It seemed like days had passed. She felt cold, so cold. Her clothes would never dry in here. Out of exhaustion, out of fear, and out of despair, she started crying. Her tears rolled down her cheeks like little diamonds that gently kissed her lips, and vanished at the edge of her jawline down to a long fall onto the wet ground below her.

“The expedition would be a complete success.” she reminisced from the press conference held a few weeks ago. “Many treasures would be unveiled.”

The only chest (unfortunately not of gold) she discovered was the one of a human skeleton stuck between two rocks underwater, and the macabre scenery had given enough inspiration to her companions to tell horror stories to spice up the journey.

She’d wandered through the galleries until she’d reached a cul-de-sac. She could not go back. No, she had to find an exit here, or she’d die too, like all the others. She choked her tears back, and tried to give herself enough courage to venture her light along the walls of the cave until she found a hole of some sort.

Grabbing the Ipod with one hand, she let the device work its magic as she held her breath, listening for any suspicious noise. She knew it would come get her soon. It was only a matter of time now.

She worked hard, forcing her eyes to adjust to the darkness. After a long and exhausting effort, she finally sat down, shivering, wrapping her arms around her legs and putting her head on her knees to keep the heat of her body concentrated in one area. Her wet clothes were not helping. She was also feeling so scared.

The break lasted longer than expected. She woke up to the screams of a threat she knew was near, and her head started to hurt.

She stood up and worked on finding an exit again, now more eager than ever to escape from there alive. The sweat running down her face formed millions of little bubbles on her skin. Her breathing became harder, and louder. The Ipod firmly clutched in her hand, she kept looking for her pass to survival, and ultimately, to freedom, but again, she saw nothing.

She almost gave up. Her head between her hands, she prayed for a miracle to happen. She tried one last time, as she heard it getting closer.

Suddenly she gasped. There was a big enough opening, a few feet above her. The tunnel must have been several feet long, but she couldn’t tell exactly. She could maybe hide there for a while, until it stopped looking for her.

Resolved to do the impossible to survive this underground hell, she pushed herself high enough to be able to find a grip, but she slipped. The stone was too wet. After a few unsuccessful tries, she let herself fall and she cried some more.

The screams sounded very close now. She was sure it could smell her scent. It was a matter of minutes for it to find her.

Still holding the Ipod in her hand, she started reciting a prayer. As a last goodbye to her loved ones, she browsed through the picture albums loaded on the tiny device. She could now hear its loud breathing down the gallery.

Her eyes stared at the darkness, the Ipod as her flashlight, and her mind counted down the seconds until she’d finally face it.

It appeared before her more frightening than she thought. As soon as she saw a glimpse of it, she jumped and tried to climb up the hole again. Everything, but death. Her fingers slipped, her nails stuck to the stone, bleeding as she kept holding herself up, maintaining her balance and pushing through, giving enough propulsion to insert her whole body inside the tunnel.

She suddenly fell like a ragged doll onto the wet surface of the cave, pulled by a force she was unable to defeat. It all happened in a flash. She kicked and screamed, but an intolerable pain started spreading throughout her limbs as she felt dizziness taking over her thoughts, and quickly became deaf to the chewing sounds surrounding her. When her eyes locked on the dim light shining in the dark, she realized that the screen had shattered, displaying nonetheless a picture she recognized. At the sight of it, she smiled… and the Ipod went black.

I felt a void in my head, as if some surgeon had opened my skull and scooped half of my brains with a teaspoon. It didn’t really hurt. I experienced quite a comfortable feeling, a sort of light numbness similar to the beginning stages of drunkenness.

I recognized in a blur the silhouette of a body lying next to me. I tried to move out of bed, but I couldn’t, somehow fully paralyzed from neck down. I heard a clicking sound, something my teeth would normally do when I reached a temperature I wasn’t used to. The room felt actually very hot, almost steamy.

I stayed there for a while, not really knowing what to do. I still couldn’t see clearly. When I licked my mouth, I realized it was utterly dry, my lips completely chapped. I thought I needed to drink water.

I suddenly heard something snap. It crawled from behind my neck, slowly nibbling on my ear, and ran down my chest. Its million legs stuck onto my skin, each part of his umbilical skeleton cracking with every move, leaving me powerless, unable to scream. My tongue had disappeared, leaving an immense gap inside my throat. I wanted to shiver but it was too hot for me to be cold, and I was unable to feel fear.

The creature continued its journey onto my stomach until it found my navel. I finally recognized its shape as it paused, raising itself into a perfect vertical stick. It looked like a big caterpillar, reinforced with a thick carapace. It remained rigid for a long time, while I kept staring at it, not really aware of what it might do to me. I was still totally out of it.

The stick held its position until I got too tired of watching. I didn’t feel it move either. As I laid my head back against the pillow, I drifted into a deep daydream. I saw myself walking across the battlefield, my weapon in my hand, obliterating them like paper dolls. Blood splattered everywhere, and I heard their screams as they fell onto the ground, eaten by death, but never gone for too long anyway. I popped bullets into their brains, fighting until I was the last one standing. I didn’t win, did I?

The caterpillar still lied above my navel when I slightly opened my eyes. A strange sensation had started to invade my body, the numbness in my brain defeating all my thoughts. A strong feeling of powerlessness soon overwhelmed my core.

Then I smelt it. The rancid odor of blood covering my skin hit my nostrils harder than if an entire bottle of fragrance had shattered on the floor. My mouth immediately began salivating.

The paralysis had subsided, and so did my thoughts. All that remained was this insatiable hunger. I needed to feed, now.

My fingertips impatiently tapped on the top of my desk. I couldn’t bear it any longer, yet I had to remain patient. I was supposed to receive the package three hours ago.

What was wrong with these people? I thought we had an agreement. The brand new gun I bought earlier was lying flat at the bottom of my drawer, its barrel longing to be filled with burning powder and smoke. When I ran my finger on the trigger, I felt a twitching sensation in my pants. It was good stuff, baby, the real one. Soon I would be a man.

And now what? I hated feeling like this, always on the edge, nervous to finally be relieved of my duty. This was no game. Somebody was going to die tonight.

I kept staring at the phone, sending telepathic waves so that it would finally ring. Nothing. It stayed as dead as roadkill. When were they going to call?

I slowly started dozing off in my chair. The wait was killing me. Suddenly, I heard a noise coming from behind the wall. It was a long buzzing sound, much like somebody drilling. I didn’t pay any attention to it until I noticed that it was getting closer. I had no idea the next door neighbor was doing renovation work. Way to start the evening on a Saturday.

I looked at the clock. It had been over three hours now. I had to run to the bathroom, but I was afraid to miss their call. At least the drilling stopped.

I opened the drawer again to take a long glance at my new toy. Looking good. I also felt kind of proud of myself. Tonight, baby. Tonight.

I heard a loud thump. I was not really sure of what was going on right now. It seemed that the drilling had also started again.

Thump. I stood up to check this out. As I walked to the wall, I noticed some small cracks in the paint. Thump. Dust had started to form at the base of the wall. Thump. The paint cracked more. Thump. Little bits of paint scattered on the ground. Thump. The noise was getting louder. More drilling. Thump. I applied my ear against the wall. Thump. Thump. If he continued at this rate, he would go through it. Thump. Thump. Thump. Now the cracks became bigger, spreading like a cobweb. Thump.

All the noise abruptly stopped. I stepped away and slowly walked backwards to the drawer of my desk, searching for my gun, never losing sight of the wall. Pearls of sweat started forming on my forehead, and on the side of my face. The gun in my hand, I released the safety and aimed at the cracks in the paint. I was ready to shoot at anything that came out of that wall.

More sweat dripped down my temples, and my lips started reciting a prayer. I held the gun tight, trying not to shake, but my hands could not stay still. Thank God I didn’t become a surgeon. I was not here to spare lives anyway.

Thump. I could see a tiny hole receding inside the wall. Thump. It grew bigger. Thump. Thump. More bits of the wall kept falling down, and the hole widened. Thump. I could almost perceive the end of what looked like a crowbar. Thump. Yes, it was definitely a crowbar. Thump. Thump. Thump.

I was now staring at a hole about three inches wide. Silence invaded the room, and I quickly felt utterly uncomfortable. I didn’t know what to expect, so I kept aiming my gun straight at it. Whatever would come out of there was mine.

A few minutes passed, until I heard an unfamiliar noise. It was a slick slithering sound. I didn’t see anything coming out of the wall, yet that sound kept growing in my ear so loud, I had to use my left hand to cover it from this infernal ruckus. I was still holding the gun with my right hand. I would not stand very long if this noise did not stop immediately.

My right ear hurt. I thought it almost popped. Maybe it had. I was sweating profusely. I could not look away from the hole. The pain in my right ear grew considerably; I covered it with my left hand and let my left ear free. I could not drop the gun.

My hand was soon covered in sweat from my head, and I wiped it against my shirt. That was when I realized for the first time I was bleeding. I touched the area around my ears and drew blood on my fingers.

I felt scared, but the pain didn’t stop. The sound became so loud, I had to fall down on my knees. Out of desperation, I covered both my ears with my hands, and I waited. I was still looking at the hole, but nothing moved out of it.

Tears rolled down my face and I hoped for the worst to happen just to make the pain disappear.

“What do you want?” I screamed.

The hole remained motionless. I couldn’t focus anymore. As I looked up one last time, I felt a gentle breeze blow down my neck, and I shivered. Then I closed my eyes, and prayed.