Archive for January, 2020

#Trump #Horror

Posted: January 13, 2020 in Uncategorized


Jeff Prebis

I stopped at Shanae’s house. I had dish in my hand covered with tin foil. Her yard was decorated with Vote for Trump signs. It was clear she needed some information. I baked information-fused weed into the brownies. She wasn’t a weed smoker. She became stiff over the years, tightly wound, far from the woman she was in high school and college. I’d known her then, I had a good vantage point to judge, and I wished she would just loosen up, mellow out.

Shotguns fired in the backyard. She homeschooled her sons, taught them how to shoot first, and act responsibly last, never. Her sons practiced with rifles and shotguns all day, preparing for impeachment, preparing for the election, preparing for Armageddon, as if it were preordained in scripture. I knew it wasn’t.

Shanae answered the door in a robe. A scar marred her forehead. I hadn’t seen it before. She’d been normal the last time I’d seen her, after she quit her job at the paper. I frowned at the scar. She smiled blithely at me, though, her eyes were slits and she barely seemed awake. She held the door open and I entered her home.

“How are your boys?” I asked.

“They are so accurate,” she gushed. “I have them practicing every day.”

On cue, her boys entered the living room. They wore MAGA hats and bright orange vests, ear muffs covered their ears, and they carried matching sawed-off shotguns. They looked quite chipper. These little warriors of the apocalypse made me uncomfortable. I picked a brownie from the tray and took a bite out of it. I ate one before I left the house. I needed another, though, these kids creeped me out, and Shanae looked out of it, brainwashed, the worms were inside her, the brownies were the only cure.

As usual, the pro-Trump talk spat out of her like bullets from a gun barrel. She wouldn’t shut up. I offered her a brownie. Little did I know how bad the reaction would be. It was all my fault. The kids snatched brownies first, beating their mother with their young quickness. I didn’t have time to object. They snatched and strolled. The last time I’d been over, Shanae had yelled at her kids for misbehaving, but this time she was strangely quiet, allowing them to snatch without a protest, without a harsh word.

Shanae took a brownie, studied it for a moment, and took a bite out of it. Her face moved as she masticated it. I watched earnestly, waiting for a change in her demeanor. A frown formed on her face, however, and she stopped chewing. Her eyes rolled back in their orbits, her mouth opened, and little worms crawled out, dangled on the precipice of falling out of her mouth. Worms squirmed out of her nostrils along with some blood, blood leaked from her nose to her upper lip, to the worms in her mouth.

Shanae trembled vigorously, her head twitched to the side, and she vomited more of the worms. The weed went to work on her, tried to unlock the rational side of her brain, and the worms seemed to object. There was a rumbling sound beneath the living room floor. Something was in the basement. I set the tray down on a coffee table, listened to the children giggling in another part of the house, possibly the kitchen, stared at Shanae as worms spilled out of her. I stomped them on the carpet, leaving an indelible mark.

Her sons returned to the room, they struggled to pull worms out of their mouths like handkerchiefs from a magician’s sleeves, they wrestled with the length of the worms, pulled and pulled, but more worms came out, they were almost snakes in description, so long and wide that they could choke the boys if they chose.

I watched her son pass a gun to Shanae, she placed it against her temple, and as I yelled, “No,” she pulled the trigger. Her brains blew out of the side of her head, slapping the beige wall, the blood and brains hit and stuck in place, slowly sliding down the wall in red lines. Her body leaned to her left, collapsed, her head struck the carpet first, and a red globby puddle formed around it in a corrupt halo. I left the room in search of a towel for the blood. I accidentally murdered her and left a stain on her floor that would drive her husband crazy.

I heard another gun shot. I paused. Froze in place was a better phrase. I struggled to find a cigarette in my pocket. I had four loose ones bleeding tobacco on the interior. I found it and my lighter in my other pocket, and lit it up. Who was dead this time? I ventured back to the living room with a brown  towel in my hand. I hit my cigarette with a wince on my face, I saw that her son had pulled the trigger and blown his brains across the surface of her beige couch.

The sound downstairs, in the basement, drew my attention. I turned in that direction, unable to countenance the gore just yet. I turned the knob, and heard footsteps behind me. I turned halfway, out of the corner of my eye, I saw her son, he moved his face aside like a panel, and exposed his skull with worms crawling all over it, through eyeholes, through earholes, and through the mouth. He had no brain that I could see, only skull and worms. I opened the basement door fully, stepped through a portal into darkness, and the door closed behind me.

I was on a ledge in front of stairs. The decline was precipitous. I looked down into the abyss, and heard more movement. I took the first steps carefully, at a snail’s pace, the steps were firm beneath my feet, and I retained good balance. I took the next step, then the next, and nothing happened. My fear that they would break was unfounded.

I heard the door lock. I had no way out unless there was a door down there. I doubted it. I saw flitting shapes in the darkness, something moved around, and I hit my cigarette, knowing that my presence had been announced by the smoke. I exhaled. I dropped the cigarette on the step and stomped it out. I proceeded down another step.

At the bottom, I saw four men handcuffed to wooden chairs. The bottom smelled dank with the scents of mildew and blood prevalent. I recognized one as Frenzini. He had his hands behind his back, his pants pulled down to his ankles, and his ankles connected by chain. He writhed uncomfortably on the chair. There was a tray standing near the men. It had several scalpels. One man had been worked on, his genitals had been removed, and the wood of the chair he sat on was bloody. I went to Frenzini, my friend, ally, in this mad world. I worked on the cuffs, pulling them down until they were in front of him, drawing numerous cries from him from contorting his limbs. I tossed him onto his feet, and was stopped by a growl. I looked into the murk, into the darkest portion of the basement, at a creature that looked like a teddy bear. It had a red hat on and a blue scarf. It crawled at me, bore its nasty teeth, sharp like shards of glass, crooked and facing the same direction. Another growl shook me. The ferocity almost knocked me off my feet.

“Let’s get the fuck out here,” I whispered to Frenzini. I dragged him toward the stairs with the chain around his ankle clanking on the cement. The cement was a beige color. Frenzini left bloody footprints in his wake.

The teddy bear lunged forward, teeth revealed, gums too, a devious snarl that made urine drip out of my dick. It bit into my thigh. I felt a shock of pain, I cried out vocally and from my eyes in the form of salty tears. I used my other leg to propel me forward. I took a firm stomp on a stair, and dragged Frenzini with me. The teddy bear tore a chunk out of my leg, I saw the meat flung from its mouth, and I struggled to hold on while darkness shortened my vision down to the size of a penny, and then nothing.


I woke up on a gurney. My side had been gnawed open, ribs stuck out and a glob of viscera lumped together into a meat loaf shape. The smell of the viscera made me vomit brownies onto myself. People in light blue scrubs and surgical masks stopped by the gurney and stared down at me with huge glowing eyes. I frowned at them.

The gurney was wheeled into a room. Little machines had tubes which fed blood to me. I lost a lot. There was a mammoth hole in my leg, only the calf was intact, my kneecap was exposed, and the tendons and bone connecting it to the lower portion of my leg. The pain had been numbed, though. I felt pain free and enjoyed the ride into the room. Light blue dudes came toward me with needles in their hands, inside the needles were tiny worms swimming around in blue water, I felt the acute pierce of a needle prick, and my bowels voided. A flood of shit ran down my legs.

Someone else was wheeled into the room. I didn’t recognize him. The needles were injected into me. I watched the worms enter my bloodstream. The man next to me thrashed on his gurney. I waited for my thoughts to be scrambled, I waited for the wrong information to be processed, and then it rushed into my mind.

The worms squirmed through me fast, I saw bulges in my arms, and bulges in my neck; then all I saw was a man with a comb-over holding an eagle with a glove. More patriotic shit. More false idolatry. Another gurney was wheeled in. This one had the teddy bear on it. Its fur was corrupted by bullet holes that leaked massive amounts of blood. The teddy bear didn’t move. It lay peacefully. The corruption continued. Things weren’t the way they seemed.

I remember walking down this street. The sky was a darker blue. No sun. A layer of bruises floating in shapes. I saw the happy people. They held purchases, various wares, in their hands and smiled at each other. I had a gun in my hand. I never owned a gun, never even held one. What the fuck was happening? I strode at a steady pace.

Another man took the gun from my hand. All he did was smile, and walk off with it. I didn’t say anything, just kept walking. Kids with American flags wore bulletproof vests, and carried toy rifles, tomorrow’s assassins. A bottle of liquor was passed down the street, hand to hand, and each person took a drink. I strode toward it to take my turn, it touched my hand, and I put the bottle to my lips, I forgot that I quit drinking, and partook of the liquor, a warm scotch.

A busty blonde woman took my hand and guided me to a storefront. I entered with her, and she led me through clothes on hooks to a changing room, she pushed me inside, and started working on my pants, she pulled them down, and put her mouth on my cock. It was shriveled, invigorated by her touch, though, and it stretched out. She passed a parcel to me. Inside it was weed. I could smell it through the manila packaging.

The door to the changing room opened. Two cops peered in. They wore riot gear complete with clear shields over their faces. They perused the changing room and shut the door behind them. The blonde continued to swallow me. I played with her breasts after sticking the folder into the back of my pants and lowering my shirt over the bulge. I had to stay in character. The information was important.

She brought me to orgasm. I felt the jolt of my cock shooting into her mouth. I watched her swallow it. Her throat bulged. Then it traveled through her chest.

She opened the door to the changing room and left me there with my cock sticking out. I placed it back in my pants and zipped up. I walked out of the room next. I watched her walk out of the store. I lingered for a moment, perusing a pink button up shirt, thinking about how it would fit me, and I decided to buy it. It was a spur of the moment decision. The clerk was occupied. He’d shit on a plate and checked the plate thoroughly for worms. He had a pair of small glasses on his nose to see up close. He scratched his nose after his nostril flexed.

“I think you’re clean,” I said. I set the shirt down on the counter. The clerk didn’t look my way.

“I’m not sure,” he replied. He kept his eyes down on the plate. He stuck his finger in the shit, and manipulated it around, discovering one worm, one distinct speck, that brought him to the brink of insanity. He dropped the plate, clawed at his face, and stripped his clothes off in a frenzy. “I need to get clean,” he shouted. He was stripped down to nothing. He stood there, floundering.

The cops entered the store again. They shot the clerk without hesitation. Bullets right through his chest. The plate of shit struck the floor. I ducked down with my ears ringing. I opened up my leg. It had a series of pulleys and wheels inside. I opened it, brought out a gun, and closed it. I held the gun and popped up. I shot the cops in their faces. The glass visors shattered. Bullets between their eyes. I staggered out of the store with my new shirt in my hands.

Back on the street people stared at me. A man with eagles tattooed on his hands stepped out of a store and began following me. I needed to find the bakery. They would cook the parcel. The man gained ground on me. The eagles looked angry.

I turned a corner, almost crashed into a signpost, but kept walking without breaking my stride. The air smelled like fresh pretzels. I noticed a stand. People crowded the proprietor as he pulled pretzels off a wheel. The bakery was right in front of me. I passed through the threshold just as the tattooed man reached out to grab my arm.

Inside, there was a woman in a white apron. She was still pretty young, possibly her late twenties. She smelled like strawberries. I navigated around booths and tables to reach her. I pulled the parcel from the back of my pants and handed it to her. The tattooed man disturbed us by clearing his throat. A man came out of a passage in the floor. He grabbed the legs of the tattooed man and pulled him down into darkness. The panel slid back into place, I heard a chainsaw start up, it revved, and the tattooed man screamed.

The strawberry woman had opened the parcel and taken out the weed. She had perused it. “Frenzini will be pleased,” she said.

I needed another drink. The swig of the bottle on the street had influenced my thoughts deeply. I wanted to be fucked up. I wanted to fly off in a rocket ship.

“Sit down,” she said. “I’m sorry that the worms are influencing you. I know you’ve done great things for the resistance. I know you care. I have some rum in the back. It’s the only thing that can numb their influence.”

She stepped to a door, unlocked it, and vanished into darkness. I waited by the counter. In my mind I saw eagles soaring. I tapped on the counter self-consciously. I felt like a mutant, as if my skin crawled. I needed to hide somewhere. The bell over the door rang. I turned and was electrocuted.

I woke up in an apartment. Outside were the neon lights of a Chinese restaurant. A warm breeze blew in through an open window. I heard rustling. I looked down and a child clawed at the leg of my pants. The child had green blotches on it, strange birthmarks. I was strapped down to a chair. The straps were made of leather. They put off a pungent odor.

I tipped the chair forward and it fell to the floor. I used my knees to move on the floor alongside the baby. I shuffled into a kitchen. A stove-like machine had babies coming out of it. The lights of the oven turned on and off each time a new baby emerged. I was weirded out. I saw the eagles soaring in my mind.

Frenzini walked in the room. His face was painted green. He looked sick, alien-like. “They gave you worms. Everything is compromised. I can’t be in the streets. They caught me once and you saved me. I don’t have the worms. I’m okay. You aren’t. There are crawling through your cranium.”

“Why is my leg hollow?” I asked. “Where am I? Nothing seems familiar.”

“Same reality. Different circumstances. I apprehended you at the bakery before you could take a package. You’re too corrupted to know where you’re going. We wait out the end of 2019 here where we’re safe. Tomorrow will be another day. Just another day. No big deal. They aren’t going to get me. They had me once, but not again.”

The paranoia was thick in the air. What were the babies? Why was his skin painted green? He was clearly crazed. I was much calmer about the strange situation. “Can I have a cigarette?” I asked.

He reached in his shorts’ pocket and brought out a pack of Pall Malls, he took one out and stuck it in my mouth. He applied a lighter to the end. I coughed upon contact with the smoke, and exhaled through my nose.

Fireworks went off outside the window. The lights of the Chinese restaurant dimmed. The sky became a scary black, devoid of stars. A darker shape appeared by the window. I saw ears on top of its round head. It stared at me with golden eyes, like two gold coins. I shivered while the smoke went in and out of me. The shadow went down. I heard a rattle at the door. The door opened with a crash. The knob went through the drywall. A teddy bear stood in the door, a Christmas colored scarf was around its neck. It was a few days late to play Santa Claus. Two human hands were at its sides. Its legs were human. There was a hairy vagina between its legs. I felt oddly turned on.

The babies mewled on the floor. Their cries filled up the apartment. Frenzini freaked out. He reached around the kitchen counter for a weapon, deciding on a spatula. The teddy bear approached him. It yawned, showing its terrible teeth, they were yellow and brown like a honey comb. Her forked tongue flicked at the air as if to speak, but she couldn’t.

I smoked the cigarette, waiting for her move. She turned human. The fur receded off of her until she was just a naked woman standing unabashedly in the room. She didn’t look for clothing to cover herself. She approached Frenzini. “Don’t move, I can transform again, whenever I like,” she said. “I don’t want a bloodbath. I just want the information. I have to destroy the oven.” “You can’t,” Frenzini said desperately. “I worked hard to be a part of this. It must continue.”

Frenzini sat on the floor. The woman crawled on top of him. She glanced back at me. I had my chin on the floor with the cigarette inches from my mouth. She kicked me in the face, knocking me out.

The bang of a shotgun woke me up. My eyes opened. I looked around. The woman had turned into a teddy bear and shot herself with a shotgun. The blood was warm on the beige carpet. She had eaten the babies, too. They were torn apart. The face of a baby had been thrown against a wall and it stuck. Frenzini had his throat torn open, a pool of blood was around it, and his cock was stuck in the center. The straps on my wristed had been opened. I was free to go. I stood up, opened the door, and ran away.