MicroHorror

Sitting cross-legged on the floor, the stumpy demon looked like a child, or would have if the severed head hadn’t been in his lap.

Tucker licked his lips as he approached. He was thirsty; God was he thirsty.

“Why do you come?” the demon asked him, smiling as it caressed the hair of the severed head as if it were a kitten.

Tucker shook his head. He didn’t know why he had opened the door, why he had passed through into hell. He had just wanted to… “I just wanted to see.” His words echoed off the walls of the dark room. Tucker looked around. What walls? What room? No, it wasn’t an echo but a mocking reiteration of things lurking beyond his sight.

“See what?” The demon’s voice sounded harsh and cruel. It tossed the head over its shoulder, and for a moment, Tucker caught a glimpse of something monstrous jumping forward to catch the head in its giant mouth before it vanished back to the darkness.

“I wanted to see what awaited me.”

The demon laughed and sounded like a pre-puberty boy. “I fear you performed the wrong ceremony then. This is not the world of the afterlife. This is the world of the ending life.”

“I don’t…” Tucker shook his head and abandoned the question.

“It’s simple,” the demon said. “Souls don’t come here after they die. They come here to die. Easy as that.”

“Then this isn’t hell.”

“Hell,” the demon licked its lips, “is whatever you dread.” Again, the demon licked its lips. “This is hell to some.” He was thirsty. “The other worlds could be hell to others.” God he was thirsty. “But you will never see them. This is where all journeys end.”

Tucker looked around. He could see the masses now that surrounded him. It was a wall of flesh. Eyes and mouths of every size opened and closed. Hands were reaching for him. Were his eyes adjusting, or were they getting closer? He opened his mouth to speak but could not. His throat had been slashed. A moment later, he felt his head being ripped off. There was no pain, not like he imagined, just a horrible sound and a pulling feeling.

He was turned to face his headless corpse as the savage mouths pulled at it tearing it like a pack of dogs. Giant tongues lapped up the blood as it hit the ground. Tucker watched this, still wanting to cry out, still wanting to speak, but the air to do so was in his lungs, and his lungs were already consumed.

“There, there,” the demon said. “The worst part is already over.” He felt a hand patting his hair. “Now it is just a matter of waiting for the next one to come along.” The demon turned Tucker’s head to face him. They met eye to eye. “I just hope the next one isn’t so God-damn thirsty.”