Monster

Monster

Aroused from a deep sleep, seven-year-old Jimmy Daemon’s eyes popped open. He couldn’t tell if he was dreaming or not, but he sensed something was not right. Still under the covers, he inhaled deeply, and gagged. Something smelled bad in his bedroom.

“Mom, that smell is back,” he yelled aloud from his bed.

The smell reminded him of the time he found his turtle, dead, under his night table, days after he raced it against his best friend’s tree toad.  The turtle had rotted, its shell smashed to pieces and body burned. He was convinced the monster in the wall had killed his small friend, and when the room smelled bad, it meant the monster was coming back. The smell frightened him. He glanced at the clock. He knew how to tell time, and saw it said 2:14 a.m. which meant it was in the middle of the night when no one was awake.

“Mommy!”  

 His bedroom door was shut tight, and window curtains drawn. The room was pitch black except for the red glow of the clock.

 “Mommy!” His voice grew louder.

His body started to sweat.  He forgot to do his nightly check under the bed before he went to sleep and put a flashlight beneath his pillow. Jimmy was convinced the monster would come out of the walls, grab his feet, pull him down beneath the mattress and smash him to pieces like his turtle.

“Please, please go away. I promise I won’t scream. I’ll be a good boy. Please don’t hurt me.”

Panicked, he wrapped his new Pokeman quilt over his head and small body. Then, poking one arm out from beneath the blanket, he let two fingers walk blindly across the bedsheet to feel if anything was there.  Suddenly, he felt something oily drip slowly over his exposed arm and hand.  He thought it smelled like the gas station where he went with his mother to fill up their car. Heat began to hiss, and curl, under his fingertips. Slowly, he lifted up the edge of the bed cover, opened his left eye, and screamed.

“MOM! It’s back, get it out of here!  It’s ….”

His throat tightened. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t believe what he saw in front of him. Kicking and thrashing, he tried to get away. But it was too late. He called out in a whisper, again.  

“Help me mommy, help me……”

A red glow appeared, burning through the center of Pikachu and Snorflax’s faces, the flames licking a hole in the cloth, crawling into his hair, scorching his pajamas next, and finally dissolving his screams and skin into the sheets. Then, silence.

It was back.

                                                                                                               ********************************

“God damn it, you little piece of crap. Starting up with me already, aren’t you? You’re nothing but garbage, do you hear me?”

Kelly Daemon was in the kitchen doing what she does every morning: cursing and slapping the side of her Keurig coffee maker. Ever since her ex-husband walked out on her six months earlier, the machine refused to work for her. Each day, coffee steamed into her mug, leaving behind a mouthful of burnt brown grains at the end of every sip. Muttering under her breath, she slammed the cup into the sink, spraying hot, grainy liquid and pieces of blood red ceramic everywhere. Pissed off that she couldn’t get her morning jolt, she tipped her head back, and screamed into the air.

“Jimmy Daemon! You get your little butt down here, NOW. It is seven-o-five in the morning, and you are going to be late for the school bus.”

Shuffling over to the pantry in her ragged pink “Hello Kitty” slippers, she yanked the door open and pulled out a week-old, green looking loaf of bread, an almost empty jar of Jiffy Peanut Butter, and strawberry jam and threw them on the counter to make her son’s lunch.

“Well…., she cackled aloud. That’s the end of making those!” A smirk spread across her face.

Kelly was not the beauty she used to be. At thirty years old, her breasts sagged and her waist bloomed several inches after Jimmy was born. Her husband was disgusted at the sight of her.

“Shit, you look like a damn lumpy laundry bag, Kelly. What the hell?”

It wasn’t long after her 29^th birthday, that William Daemon ran off with a younger woman. Neighborhood tongues wagged and clucked at high speed. Area nosey bodies she hardly knew knocked on her door day and night with trays of sympathy and Velveeta macaroni and cheese. Kelly smiled, coyly batted her eyes when she accepted the food gifts, slammed the door behind them, turned and dumped them in the kitchen trash.

“Bite me,” she would yell into the can. 

Heartbroken that he had to leave his son behind, William fought in divorce court to take Jimmy with him, but Kelly had lied to the judge saying that her husband beat Jimmy nightly, brought him to bars with his girlfriend, and was a sloppy drunk.  Upon hearing that Kelly was President of the PTA at the Underwood School and Cub Scout Mom of the Year, the judge sided with Kelly giving her full custody.   There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t do to get back at William, and this was sweet revenge.

“That bastard will rot in hell before he sees his son, again.”

Taking a deep breath at that thought, she felt better and calmed down.

She opened up Jimmy’s Power Ranger lunchbox, threw in the unwrapped sandwich and slammed the box shut.

“Jimmy, sweetie, come on down. I’m making chocolate chip pancakes for you. I’ve got whip cream, too.” Her voice dripped honey.

A sudden knock at the back door startled her. Peeking out of the kitchen door curtains, she saw it was Tommy from across the street, and opened the door with a smile.

“Hi, Mrs. Daemon! Is Jimmy ready to go? We have a special assembly this morning, and me and Jimmy think it’s a firefighter with a big hook and ladder truck coming to talk to us about how to stay safe if your house catches fire and he’s bringing hoses and….”

Not wanting him to yap on forever, she interrupted him and looked at him sympathetically.

“I’m sorry, Tommy. Jimmy is not feeling well. He has a fever and a sore throat. He’s going to stay home today and rest. Will you be a good friend and come back after school and tell him what the fireman said? I’m sure he will be feeling better by then. I will tell him you were here, though. Stop by after school, ok?”

She saw his bright eyes darken, and big smile turned upside down quickly. Looking down at his feet, he said, ok, thanked her and headed for the bus stop. Kelly shut the back door, flipped on the radio, and began preparing Jimmy’s pancakes.  All of a sudden, the hairs on her arms stood up. The station was playing a hard rock song her husband loved, but she despised. She picked up the small radio and threw it against the wall.

“Don’t you assholes have better songs to play than one about a psycho killer at this hour of the morning? Jesus Christ.”   

She couldn’t understand why Jimmy hadn’t come downstairs, yet. It was getting late, and now she would have to drive him to school.

“You better not be playing video games, Jimmy!”

Suddenly, she noticed a strange smell floating into the kitchen, like burnt rubber, she thought. Kelly flipped the second pancake onto his favorite Transformer plate and walked towards the stairs.

“Ok, Mr. Man, I am on my way up to tickle you out of that room so be ready!”

As she got closer to his bedroom, the smell was overwhelming. Her nose hairs burned, and she began to gag.

There was a sign on Jimmy’s door that stated, “Monsters Keep Out.”   She rolled her eyes and pulled the paper notice down.

 “Jimmy, it’s time to go to school. Let’s get moving. NOW.”

She pushed the door open and stepped into the room. It was unrecognizable. Remnants of grey smoke curled into the air, the bed was covered in wet black ashes, steaming, smelling like gasoline, and burnt meat. Empty metal buckets littered the sopping wet throw rug next to the small bed and beach white sand was spread everywhere.

Kelly stood there expressionless, a calm washing over her face. 

“Jimmy, where are you, sweetheart?”

She walked around to look behind the bed. 

“Oh, there you are!”

There lay what was left of her child. Curled up next to the metal bed frame lay a pile of crisp, charcoal blackened flesh buried in sand and water. She tip-toed towards him, as if he were asleep, and bent down to get a closer look. Her face shined a bright poppy yellow smile.

“Do you want your pancakes now, Jimmy?” Sweeping away the burnt offerings of what was left of his face, she looked at Jimmy proudly, straightened up, turned, walked out of the room, and headed for the kitchen to see if she could fix the coffee pot.   

The song on the radio that Kelly heard: 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O52jAYa4Pm8