For Shits and Giggles [2024]

Chapter 02

The morning paper contained nothing new: more deaths and no progress on getting rid of the Tree. Dr. Sny's latest endeavor involved high concentrations of hydrochloric acid. They started by pouring gallons of it into the Tree's roots—one thing led to the next, and soon, everything had gone horribly wrong. As predicted.

Both those involved in the experiment and innocent passersby died in excruciating pain; most of the survivors killed themselves just to get away from it. Some committed suicide just to fix the disfigurement (after all, dying is a lot cheaper than cosmetic surgery or skin grafts). Gracie tried not to gag at the photos printed on the front page. How cruel; how disheartening. And yet, still stood the Tree. Mighty and proud.

On the brighter side, people were still trying. They believed, even if scarcely, that there was a way out of this—a way to beat the Tree.

Gracie continued skimming the pages as she walked, searching desperately for any other signs of progress or hope. She had let herself get too engrossed, not noticing the small crowd of people beginning to gather in front of her. A high-pitched scream ripped through the air, and Gracie finally looked up. She stopped in her tracks, hoping she'd turn to stone so she wouldn't have to bare witness. In front of the Café doors, standing between her and her final destination was Felix. He had his hands wrapped firmly around his wife's throat. This sight wasn't particularly new. Today was Fior's turn to open the Café, and she usually brought her husband along.

But Felix's pupils were dilated, which always meant the same thing. He wasn't himself. His fingers dug into his wife's neck, who was trying hard to break away, to flee. Her screams morphed into deep, choked coughs racking her body. Felix's nails finally ripped through Fior's skin, bright red blood painting his face and the sidewalk around them.

Fior's body collapsed, but not onto the ground. She had a small, slender frame, and Felix had no trouble holding her up. Her gasps became weaker and further apart, but still, she clawed at his wrists, using the last of her strength to try and escape. Felix winced at her sharp nails, more in annoyance than in pain. They locked eyes (hers bloodshot), but it only made Felix squeeze harder. He slammed her to the ground by the throat. Something in her spine shattered, and a broken, weak whimper left her lips. She had no energy even to scream.

Usually, Felix liked taking his time. Watching the light fade from his wife's eyes was euphoric, almost sexual in nature. He had always believed in the benefits of delayed gratification. But this time, it was different. He wasn't fully immersed. The fresh cuts on his wrists were beginning to sting, and they completely ruined the experience for him.

He held her writhing body in place, using his other hand to grope the ground for a shard of glass. Fior's car had wrecked into the storefront window of the antique shop next door. Ironically, it was the same antique shop where Fior had found her perfect wedding gown three years ago. Felix found a piece he was satisfied with, gripping the shard so hard his own hand bled.

He jabbed the glass into her eye and slid it down the socket, tearing through her right cheek. Fior sacrificed her last burst of energy for one final, agonized shriek, the blood filling her mouth bubbling like boiling water. Felix didn't stop. The crowd that had formed quickly dispersed. People ran away; some threw up, and others pulled out their phones to record. But no one stepped in.

"Somebody call the Sheriff!" Someone screamed.

Gracie didn't reach for her phone. She knew better than to call for the Sheriff. Gracie wrapped an arm around her abdomen, her breakfast threatening to come back up. She felt sick. Instead, she shouted at the top of her lungs for Santiago. Everyone's hero. She knew he'd hear her scream; he always did. Maybe it was his super-hearing, or maybe the loyalty of a good friend, but no more than 5 seconds later, Santiago was there. Much quicker and more reliable than that dopey Sheriff Lotto.