Misunderstood Monsters

Chapter 29: Eve of Tragedy

Dr. Collingwood slowly went over to the mantelpiece. There were three photos arranged on top of it: one of her as an infant, another of her and her friends playing in the backyard, and in the middle, a picture of herself, her entire family, and her friends at a carnival.

She picked it up and wiped away the dust that had accumulated from years of neglect. One of the corners had been torn off.

She shook her head and placed it back on the mantelpiece with a sigh.

She swallowed a sleeping pill with some water and collapsed into bed, feeling the chemicals seep into her bloodstream.

When she woke up, she found herself in a run-down bedroom. However, it didn't seem to be hers.

Where am I?

It looked familiar, but she couldn't quite tell why. She slowly got up and walked over to the window. Outside was a large backyard with mostly dried-out grass and weeds. Then it clicked.

No, no, no... please don't tell me it's this again...

Dr. Collingwood peaked into the hallway, looking around. The door creaked on its rusty hinges, almost falling apart when she touched it. The rest of the house was in disrepair and the walls were riddled with large holes. She went up to her father's bedroom and stuck her head inside.

In her father's chair was a decaying corpse that was missing its right arm from the elbow down. It suddenly leaped off its chair and lurked towards her and she slammed the door shut on it.

The short hallway outside had changed to what seemed to be a long, dark chamber. The door that she had just closed was gone. She reached out and touched the wall. It felt like slightly moist earth.

She looked down at her feet and her limbs seemed to turn to lead weights when she saw a rattle the size of her arm about two feet away from her.

Oh God, no...

Beads of sweat collected on her forehead and her heart began to race. She looked around, her eyes just barely able to make out winding, scaly, grey-and-black diamond patterns.

"You have got to be kidding me..." she muttered under her breath. She drew in a deep breath and began to make her way across the nest, trying not to awaken the sleeping rattlers.

Her foot brushed against something and she froze as a low hiss filled the chamber.

Screw it.

She bolted as the rest of the snakes began to wake up and give chase. One nearly snapped her foot off. After about thirty seconds what was at first a small group of snakes turned into a tidal wave of the reptiles. She had no idea how she made it to the other side without being trampled, but she did. There was a small hole that was just big enough for her shoulders to pass through and too small for any of the giant rattlesnakes to follow her. She dove into the tunnel and frantically crawled through, her glasses almost falling off in her mad dash to escape.

Eventually she dug her way out of the tunnel into the middle of a large grassy field. She stood up, dusted off her clothes, and adjusted her glasses. A large bag, like the kind used to store rice or grain, was lying near her feet. A dark liquid was seeping out the bottom. Curious, she tried to lift the bag. The bottom gave way and the contents spilled out.

Dr. Collingwood stifled a scream as her mother's mutilated face stared back at her. Her mother's mouth was wrenched open in a silent scream, her eyes glassy and dead. Sirens shrieked in the distance.

She clutched her head, eyes burning, heart pounding. The ground seemed to spin under her feet, the world closing in on her.

Finally it all seemed to stop. The sirens went quiet. She opened one eye, noticing that she seemed to be in a different place once again. Breathing heavily, she slowly straightened up and looked down at her hands.

Why am I holding a daisy?

There was a gravestone next to the road. She knelt down to read what it said.

Sarah Collingwood, Age 37

Loving Wife, Caring Mother, Kind Soul

No... no...

Her vision blurred as tears ran down her face. She buried her face in her hands

Why, why, why?! Why didn't I go with Mom, I could've warned, saved her- it should've been me, it should've been me!

She reached forward to place the flower down and wipe away the dust from the gravestone. Right as her hand touched the stone, the scar on her face seared with pain.

It all disappeared and became the decayed, ruined parody of her childhood home. The house growled and rumbled, as if it was displeased. High-pitched, childish whispers rang in her ears, laughing, jeering, taunting her. Her ribs cracked and buckled inwards. She screamed again, blood spurting from her mouth as spears of bone pierced her heart and lungs.

The floor cracked and broke, dropping her in an endless abyss. She was falling, falling, falling forever. She tried to keep her eyes open as her heartbeat slowed. Something curled around her arm and up her neck. Another rattlesnake, a normal-sized one this time. It looked at her and bared its fangs in an evil grin, then forced its head into her mouth and down her throat.

Dr. Collingwood woke up screaming, tears streaming down her face.