Tip Toe Thru' the Tulips...

1: Flesh Tower

(Content warnings: Talk about death and murder, description of body horror, arson
Let me know if more need to be added)
(Word count: 1,455)

"What's with that tower?" Taylor asked me, pointing at the tower across from my apartment. It was a sore thumb in the nice view of the city. I gave a shrug, not wanting to answer the question. As if it knew it was being questioned, it began it's sickening toll.

"Just an old tower." I managed to answer calmly, rubbing at the goosebumps on my arm. "It's got some history but other than that, it's just a tower." My attempts to defuse Taylor's interest in the damn building didn't work. It did the opposite. I could see interest spark in their hazel eyes.

"Oh? What kind of history?" They asked, sitting closer to me. "C'mooonn, tell me! Please?" I sighed, figuring it wouldn't hurt to tell them.

"It's bad history. The guy that built that tower became obsessed with it. Wouldn't sleep at home, moved his family into it. It wasn't a part of the church back then, it was just...a tower. You could pay extra and have it toll during a funeral. Either way...his wife noticed him talking to the walls. She obviously got worried and tried to get him out of the place but he didn't like that." I stopped talking, eyeing Taylor for a moment. Their head was tilted, eyes wide in anticipation. "He killed her. Took a brick out of the building and just...mashed her up. He buried her behind the tower. He had two kids, a son and a daughter. They knew better to ask. They...could see it."

Taylor's face dropped slightly, sadness hitting their face. "Those poor kids." They mumbled, glancing at the tower again.

"Yeah. Don't worry, they don't die. The son mentioned what he saw. It was flesh, woven between the bricks. Following it would lead to a beating heart. Body parts were all over. The most noticable was the eyes above the door. It was his mother's eyes. Constantly crying. Nobody knew it but the family." I continued, shifting a little. I hated recounting this part of the story. "The father treated the damn building like it was his lover. The siblings were forced to call it their mother. Nobody knows why or how the father determined it was a woman, and why it was his new wife. Well, I guess I should say she. Anyway..."

I cleared my throat, staring out the window. I swore I could see the veins pulsing against the bricks but dismissed it. "The son supposedly still lived in this state till his death. Nobody knows what happened to the daughter. The story was told to the son's children when he was on his deathbed. Anyway. The years went by, the tower growing with the kids. It was never cruel to them. It...would find lost toys, handing them over with a bleeding vein wrapped around it. Eventually the veins stopped bleeding, becoming a hand made entirely of veins woven like a basket. The eyes were no longer the mother's tearful ones. The iris became the color of the stone when it was first placed down. The father was so proud of...her...naming the tower 'Legacy'. As the children grew up, the son tried to go to college. The tower didn't let him. Muscle strands blocked the door from him leaving. Nobody could leave. The father didn't mind. His children cried, begging the tower. They were desperate, even offering some flesh to the thing. It denied with a voice like rocks rubbing together."

"Are they still in there?" Taylor whispered, eyes wide and staring at me with fearfully joyful hazel eyes. I wanted to end the story with a spooky 'yes, they haunt the place to this day' but I didn't want to lie to them. I knew them long enough to tell the truth.

"No. When they asked why, the tower replied with...well, nobody knows the exact words. But people think it's...'can't tear the family apart', since the mother is buried behind the building. Neither knew what to do. Then suddenly, the door was open. They didn't care why or how, they ran as far as they fucking could. Weeks later it was found out that the father died, of a heart-attack. That's why the tower let them go, the family was broken apart. It still needs a family for whatever sick reason. Any family that enters that building can't leave without one dying or something that would ruin a family. It hasn't been a problem, it's blocked off from anyone that isn't staff."

Taylor sat there for a moment, taking in all the information. It sounded like a madman's tale but it was true. I stared at the window, at that disgusting building. The bells still rang. Their sickening tune bounced in my head over and over, like the scream of a wounded animal. It felt like a stab into my brain, over and over. I snapped out of the trance when Taylor spoke.

"How do you know this story? That thing is ancient, built in the 1800s." They had their phone in their hands. I nodded, it was all I could do. "So even if the weird fleshy thing isn't true, the murder is. And there could be ghosts. Have there been any paranormal activity recorded?" I shook my head. Taylor thought for a moment. "We aren't going in there." It was a statement, not a question. I probably looked like a wreck.

"Hell no." I mumbled. Taylor gave an understanding smile and continued scrolling on whatever page they found. I waited for the shocked gasp to come. Eventually it did. I looked over at them, trying to act confused. "What?"

"There's photos..." They whispered, showing me. The were veins bulging out of the stone and blood dripping out of the stone. Lung tissue peeked in between the cracks in the stairs. More eyes on the ceiling, irises matching the color of the stone. A mouth with too many teeth replaced a window. The heart at the top was the size of a blue whale's. I gagged a bit at a gif of the thing beating, the veins and arteries attached leaking out onto the bell, repainting it with the bright red.

"It's getting... powerful." I managed to say. I stood up, looking out the window. Now I didn't brush off the site of the veins popping out against the stone. "It...I don't think we could kill it. I mean, it's..." I gestured to the page on Taylor's phone. They nodded, before their eyes lit up. I raised a brow, stomach already flipping at whatever the plan was.

"We could burn it. Tonight." They said, meeting my gaze. I wished I could say no, deny the stupid plan. It would technically be a crime after all. But I couldn't deny it. What would a knife do to a heart of that size? I didn't have a gun or any way to get one short notice. I just numbly nodded. So we started planning. Nobody would be inside, we could pile plenty of kindling and douse it in gas on every floor. I cringed at the thought of going in there but whatever this thing would become was worse.

Night came and we ran, dressed in dark clothes and even with balaclavas. There was extra wood from the gravekeeper's house that we snatched, and I bought cans of gas hours before. So it began. The vein hands didn't know what to make of us or the wood. I think it was confused to have people sprinting up it's organ invested stairs. I poured a trail of gas when a voice stopped me.

"Family?"

I pretended I didn't hear it and lead the trail a safe distance away from anything important. Taylor lit the match and dropped it. It didn't take long for the place to light up, and for the screams of pain to fill our ears. Burnt flesh filled the air as well, but I doubted if anyone else could smell it. We watched it burn until it was a crumble of bricks, melted metal, and blood. We put it out and started another fire, just in case. Taylor even threw salt at it.

"You never told me how you knew the story. I mean, a flesh tower isn't the best urban legend." They nudged me, face illuminated by the fire. I was quiet for a moment, staring at the remains of the tower burn. Sirens sounded in the distance. I looked up at the sky.

"My mother's maiden name was Beechworth. My many great grandfather built this tower. It isn't an urban legend but a tale in my family. Almost always told on someone's deathbed."