MicroHorror

Arbuckle stood over the smoking corpse.

Damn, did it stink.

He walked around the thing, trying to spot what had started the blaze, but came up empty. No matches, no lighter… It was as if the fucker had just gone–poof–up in flames with no concern for proper cause and effect. One thing was for sure: Arbuckle didn’t like it. Not the smell, not the sight, not the girl sobbing in the corner.

The hangover wasn’t helping. He was starting to wish he’d just stayed in bed with Marie. Not answered the damn phone. But he was here now so he might as well make the best of it. He made his way over to the girl.

“He just started burning,” she said between sobs.

Well, that at least confirms the gender, he thought. “Let’s start with your name,” Arbuckle said, trying to be as soothing as he could.

“Julie,” she replied, starting to calm down a bit.

Arbuckle smiled at her. It was a start. “Okay, Julie,” he said in the same soothing voice. “Let’s go over it nice and slow…”

“Carlton and me were just havin’ a drink. The next thing I know…” She started to cry again. Arbuckle sighed.

People just don’t burst into flames, he wanted to tell her, but he knew it wouldn’t do any damn good. Arbuckle turned away from the crying girl and back to Crispy Carlton.

So what had lit his fuse then?

The only thing not scorched was his left hand. Why his left hand and not the right? It was as if the fire had decided it had enough and put itself out. Right at his wrist.

Screw it, he decided. Write it up as an accident and be done with it. Go home to Marie and some aspirin. But that damned perfect hand wouldn’t let him walk away. It was like it was taunting him. Teasing him. Years later, in the Home, Arbuckle would still be talking about that damn hand.

“Oh Jesus!” the girl started, her voice growing higher in pitch. Arbuckle looked over to her. Julie was staring down at her hands in horror. “It’s happening to me now! I’m burning up!”

Arbuckle moved over to the hysterical girl, reaching out to calm her down. “Hey! Easy!” he said to her. Arbuckle reached out, grabbed for Julie’s wrists in an attempt to shake her out of her state of panic. He pulled back quickly, letting out a hiss of pain. Her skin was scorching hot. It was turning an angry red.

Julie let out a shriek as she caught fire. Arbuckle was close enough for her flames to burn his face. He fell back to the floor in agony. It took him a moment to realize the screams he heard were his own.

The last thing Arbuckle saw before passing out was Julie’s blackened skeleton falling to the floor.