Inspired by a photo taken by Vincent Hubele
Sammie jolted awake with her mouth gaping and gasping for air. Her arms were outstretched as if reaching for something elusive, while her legs kicked wildly beneath the covers. Her eyes rolled back into her head and her entire body jerked into convulsions. Her mother, Angela, rocked back and forth near the foot of her bed. Alisa, her sister, recited the prayer of Pater Noster while flicking holy water over Sammie’s body.
Just as suddenly as the seizing began, it stopped. Sammie was semi-conscious, drenched in sweat and moaning within the stillness of the motel room. After several minutes had passed, Sammie opened her eyes and whispered, “Is it over yet?” She instinctively began rocking side to side, consoling herself.
“It will be soon, dear. We must be patient.” Sammie heard her mother walking in the direction of her bedside. But then Angela’s hands began shaking. Her nerves were racked and she couldn’t hide it. The closer she came to her daughter’s bed, the more shallow her breathing became and the louder her heart began to pound in her ears. She pressed her hand against her stomach to relieve the aching inside. It was then that she recognized just how much her fear had overtaken all her motherly instincts.“Just rest yourself Samantha,” Angela called from somewhere off to the side of her, but not nearby.
Angela’s palm covered her face. She wanted to at least offer her daughter an assuring smile, but she couldn’t manage it. Instead of moving closer to where Sammie laid she moved further away. Somewhere she felt was a safe distance between her and that thing inside of Sammie. That thing that had somehow attached itself to her and her robbed her of both her beauty and her youth. Even while Angela’s head pounded with guilt she stood in a corner of the room convincing herself that it would benefit no one should she become afflicted too.
“Mom,” Sammie croaked. Her eyes burned when she opened them, but still she searched the room for her.
Sammie understood why her mother hadn’t come to her side. She knew she feared that whatever it was that had taken hold of her could just as likely claim her as well. While no one was certain as to how she had been choosen as a host for this abominable entity, Angela had not ruled out physical proximity as a means for their entry.
Angela resisted the urge to take Sammie’s hand or wipe her forehead the way she used to do when Sammie had been a little girl. Her daughter’s bright, brown eyes had become sunken and her cherub face was now drawn. What ailed her baby was more than just a fever or a cold. It was something she still couldn’t fathom, not even in her worst nightmares. She had nursed Sammie through the chicken pox and tonsillitus, but she just didn’t know how to make it better this time.
“Here’s some water,” Alisa said. She’d gotten some water from the bathroom and tipped the glass slightly so Sammie could drink. Alisa wasn’t stricken with the same fear her mother had. Alisa’s fear grew out of concern for losing her sister. As Sammie rested her head back on the pillow, Alisa wiped the sweat from her brow and kissed the top of her head.
“Why don’t we watch some tv now?,” Alisa said brightly, trying to reverse the mood. “I think cable comes free with the room.” As Alisa turned to the nightstand to pull the tv guide out of the drawer, she caught a glimpse of the back of her mother’s green and black polka dotted raincoat headed out into the wintery slush. The red metal door, with the number eight mounted on the outside of it, made a sudden thud as it closed heavily behind her.
Alisa turned back around without saying a word. As she flipped the channels, the lights began to flicker and the power on the tv went in and out. The all the power went out. There was an ominous still that followed that made the hairs on the back of Alisa’s neck stand up. It occurred to her to get the bottle of holy water from the table where she’d left before getting Sammie’s water from the bathroom. As she crossed the room the carpet buckled and she tripped, hitting her head on the side of an open drawer.
In the blackness she reached up to her forehead and felt something trickling down her face, warm and wet. Dizzy she tried to regain her balance and reached out for the front of the dresser, this time to regain her balance.
She managed to stumble forward and over to the table. Her hands searched every inch of it in the darkness. Where had the holy water gone? She turned around and was startled, meeting Sammie face to face. How had she gotten out of bed without her hearing and so fast?
She reached for her sister and stopped short as Samantha’s mouth began to stretch open distortedly. A shadow of darkness that appeared to be somehow rooted deeply in Sammie’s throat, forced its way up and out of her mouth. It’s piercing shrieks made her cover her ears. Her screams seemed blotted out by the thing. Its shrieks echoed against every surface in the small room.
She’d seen so much up and until this point since Sammie had gotten ‘sick,’ but never anything like this. She crouched down in front of her sister, pinned between Samantha and the dresser at the front of the roand tried to crawl up under the table. She kept her arms and hands over her head and shuddered each time it cried out.
Then there was a guttural gurgling sound somewhere outside of where she huddled. Alisa refused to look up or around. It didn’t matter. The thing had found her and wrapped itself around her. She felt it, cold and icy. At first she screamed, twisting and fighting it with all she had in her. As it hoisted her into the air though, she stopped fighting and finally succumbed. She felt a coldness like never before envelop her. Then, there was silence. It was if someone had turned the volume on mute. She’d lost her hearing. Everything around her began to slow down. She looked down and saw the mustard yellow carpet beneath her littered with various sized dingy circles and several patched areas. She spotted the bottle she’d been so desperately searching for earlier up under the bed and emptied of its contents.
As it spun her in the air, her hair hung about her face. She was positioned at an odd angle in the hair as she hovered over the room. She caught an image of herself in the mirror for an instant. Her green sweatshirt, with its orange lettering, appeared drained of all color in the darkness. Her skin was ghostly and her eyes reduced to little black beads. Her black-brown hair hung matted and dampened with sweat. The darkness held to her tightly and displaced all the space surrounding it.
Then the darkness flipped her over where she could view the other side of the room, and her sister. Sammie was frantic and terrified, wrapped in the drapes that hung from the windows. She hiccupped soft cries in horror as she witnessed Alisa rotating above the bed. Sammie’s light cotton gown floated about her. Her brown hair was tousled over half her face while her eyes peered from behind the curtains. Just beforehand, Alisa said a prayer for her sister; then her body was shaken furiously with her limbs flying through the air in every direction. Sammie heard the sick sound of bones crunching together as Alisa’s body was ultimately devoured by the darkness.
Sammie sat huddled beneath the window, wrapped in the window draping, barefoot and wild-eyed. She blinked at the lights and shuddered at the beings now flooding the room. Tears streamed down her face as her mind replayed the moment when she and Alisa had locked eyes, just for a second, and Alisa mouthed Sammie’s name. Just before.
“Miss, where are the other two women who checked into the room with you? Miss?” Officer Mitchell reached out for Samantha’s shoulder. She instinctively recoiled and pressed her face firmly into the bottom of the window frame.
They were too late for Alisa, and she knew it would never be over.
Inspirational photo can be found at: www.vincenthubele.com, Gallery – Hospital #12 of 24
