MicroHorror

The Wikipedia article was titled The Day The World Ends. James only read it once. His first reaction was to laugh at it. He linked it to several others, but they all said the page could not be found. Goosebumps formed all over him. His breathing, agitated.

Two days, he thought. In two days?

The audience laughed when the magician did not bring the child back from the Magic Box. “He’s lost,” the magician said. “Into the abyss.” Laughter. The magician, his face drained of blood, stepped into the box. His last words: “I’ll try and bring him back.” The audience sat in silence for two hours. They left when the police came. The child’s mother cried as the theatre manager told her it was time to leave.

In memory of Edward Gorey (Sorry I can’t draw).

Arnold’s last words were: Antifreeze is syrupy and sweet.
Beatrice’s last words were: Bees! Bees! Bees!
Clay’s last words were: Cold… but they’ll find me.
Drake’s last words were: Don’t pull that lever.
Eileen’s last words were: Elephants are frightened far too easily.
Fredericka’s last words were: Fingers!? Where are my fingers?
George’s last words were: God, oh God.
Hildy’s last words were: How did the duck pull the trigger?
Ingrid’s last words were: I am not loved.
John’s last words were: Joking… please, please I swear I was only joking.
Kendrick’s last words were: Killed on my birthday; just my luck.
Liam’s last words were: Let me lick that.
Mona’s last words were: My head hurts.
Nathaniel’s last words were: Nobody knew me.
Oswald’s last words were: One last drink won’t kill me.
Philip’s last words were: Perhaps I am too reckless.
Quentin’s last words were: Quiet at last.
Rosalind’s last words were: Roses are red and now I am dead.
Sylvia’s last words were: Such a wasted life.
Trent’s last words were: That was unexpected.
Umberto’s last words were: Under here the seeker will never find me hiding.
Vincent’s last words were: Very funny.
Winifred’s last words were: Why didn’t I ever travel?
Xandra’s last words were: X-rays probably shouldn’t be this painful.
Yvonne’s last words were: You don’t have the guts!
Zachariah’s last words were: Zoos usually have the animals locked in, don’t they?

The churchyard was quiet but for the grunts and uneven steps of the undead. Father Paul barricaded the church doors and hoped his small cloister held enough wafers and holy water to last him through Armageddon. That’s when he heard the moans of the resurrected Silent Sisters stalking down the pews towards him. He made the sign of the cross and gave into what, he believed, was God’s will.

The child ran from his mother down a dark corridor of the mall he’d never seen. The store names were strange to him: Blankets Stolen From Infants, Coffin Nails Of Evil Men and Ambitions Ripped From Talented Youth. The child asked the janitor who smelled of sour milk for help. The janitor smiled, placed a hand on the child’s back, and led him into a store called Lost Boys Never To Be Seen Again.

His television came on at night and spoke in static. It flashed and whispered the addresses of rapists, of the drunk driver who killed that girl whom justice never found, of fathers who beat their children. He could not sleep. The same names kept coming. So he killed. All of them in search of his lost sleep. But new names came. The wicked did not sleep and neither did their executioner.

“Sir, there is no elevator,” the bellhop said.

“Impossible,” the man said. “I saw my wife and boy step in.” The bellhop pulled the man away from the lobby into a dark corner.

“Gone, sir, gone. My condolences.” The man grabbed the bellhop by his collar and threw him into the wall. “There was an elevator, sir. Unholy thing. They’d go in, and it would not appear again until they’d starved to death or dehydrated. Their fingers turned to stumps of dried blood from clawing at the door. We destroyed the elevator and dry walled over the doors.”

“I saw them step in.”

“I know, sir, I know.” The bellhop said. “My condolences.”

“I have kissed Death on the lips,” the old woman said. “His kiss was worms and burnt wood.” The boy reached for another cookie.

“Your treats are sweet and good,” he said.

“I want Death to love your flavor,” the old woman said. “If your taste pleases him, I will hold his embrace away.”

“You smell like birthday candles,” the clown said. “May I blow you out?” He giggled. One of the children cried. Another wet himself. Their mother had hired the clown. He stabbed her first.

The boy’s room was dark but for the fairy’s glow. The fairy smiled at him. “Do you know how to fly?” the fairy said.

“Fairy dust and happy thoughts,” the boy said. He leapt from his bed and the fairy sprinkled gold dust all around him. The fairy led the boy to the open window and flew out. The boy followed. Falling two stories, he did not die but was in the hospital for some time. The fairy laughed at him all that night till the ambulance came and would wake him every night in the hospital only to laugh some more.