Where There is Wailing and Gnashing of Teeth

Chapter 10: What Do You Mean it's Only the Beginning?

“Dad...?”

Light spun – everything whipped in a vicious blur – hyper fast motion that spun him in circles.

What was wrong with his body?

He didn't believe it was over. Couldn't. It was another hallucination. All he had was Tiny and the rats. Secret of NIMH. Too many secrets. He had to keep secrets.

“Prokydatysia vysche!!”

He jerked and shook his head. Eyes were inches from his own but he couldn't shrink back.

“Yzha! Yzha!”

“No! No! Steeh!”

Tiny gripped the sides of his jaw – gripped his arms – his legs.

“Shawn!”

The table started to vibrate beneath him. Tiny was screaming at him as he dug his hands inside his body.

“McNab, call the bus again, they need to get their asses down here now!”

Not here, not here, not here...

Dad! He could smell the fish stink that never completely left his hands.

Pain knotted through his belly – Tiny was ripping out his insides. No one had come for him and the only things he smelled were his organs tearing open.

“Shawn, we're right here, kid. Stay awake.”

There were spiders on him – he could feel them crawling under his skin – they were all over him and he couldn't shake them off because Tiny was forcing him down on the table – cutting him open to eat him raw and he couldn't escape it! He was being eaten alive!

“No! Nononono...” He clawed at the monster feeding on him – twisted when it grabbed at his wrists – bit down when a hand came close to his face, his teeth sinking deep enough to taste blood.

“Shawn!”

“Spencer, calm dow- SHIT!”

More pain – impossibly more! It seared in waves from his center out and he panted and thrashed in new found defiance. He would not die this way!

He could hear the smack of chewing – his flesh sating the monster – raw meat and streaks of maroon drizzling between rotted teeth. He sobbed and lurched his head around.

“Mom!” She was here but not here. She had to be here because she knew he could save her.

“Mom! I want mom... I want my mom...” His voice shredded off into tears. Mom couldn't save him. Mom was driving a car filled with Pinkberry cups over the Brooklyn bridge. The bridge was falling into a pool of tapioca.