the series of r/nosleep | volume one: the {smile} series

{F}eed

"No, no, no, man. That's nothing. You want gross, man, I'll tell you gross." He takes a long drink from his beer. He's in the double digits now. I'm going to have to drive him home, I think. If that's the case maybe I should stop drinking.

"Another one, Sammy," I say to the bartender raising a half-empty pint glass. "If I'm gonna have to listen to this asshole tell stories, I might as well be drunk."

Max winks at me, sways in his seat, and then takes another gulp from his beer. "Like I was sayin'," he slurs, hiccups, and then looks over both shoulders as if he's about to give over national secrets. The man behind him at the bar ignores us both. "It was fuckin' gross. Dude was in moth phase when we showed up."

"Moth phase?" I ask.

"You know, moth phase. Like, the last fuckin' bugs to show up to gnaw on the dead stuff."

"Oh," I say and nod my head.

"Okay, okay, so you got your necro-bugs, right? Necrophagous insects; the things that sniff out dead assholes and come lookin' for a snack. First to show up are flies, and there's all sorts of those. You got blow flies and flesh flies and cheese flies, and your typical house flies -"

"And shrimp gumbo, and shrimp-kabobs, shrimp creole, shrimp gumbo, pineapple shrimp, lemon shrimp, coconut shrimp," I try to joke. Max raises an eyebrow in confusion and takes another drink. "Nevermind," I say.

"After the flies come the beetles, and these little buggers come to eat. They'll find a hole and just burrow, you know what I'm sayin'?" He makes a squirming insertion of one finger into his other hand's closed fist. It's almost sexual. "Then when shit starts to dry out, you know?, you get the mites. They'll chew on the skin when it's all leather and jerky; turn a full grown man into a Slim Jim." He eyes me for a second to see if I'm going to get sick, but I've heard this song and dance every Dollar Draft night, so I just smile and nod. "And then come the moths. Man, I can tell you one thing, when the moths show up it's almost beautiful."

"Seriously?" I ask and eye his beer. It's almost gone. Sammy slides him another. Thanks a lot, Sammy, I think.

"Abso-fucking-lutely," Max says. "You walk in on an exposed corpse that's been turned into a moth buffet and it's like thousands of little angels pulling it apart and floating up into the sky."

I go to laugh but the man behind Max beats me to it. Max spins on his barstool and points a finger at him.

"You got a problem?" he asks.

"No problem here, buddy," the man chuckles. "Your story was just... entertaining." He takes a drink of clear liquid in a rocks glass. A single ice cube rattles around the bottom.

"Entertaining?" Max's voice is an octave higher than normal. "I'll have you know I'm the lead of this fine fuckin' city's forensics department, and I've ... I've ..." Max's head cocks to the right as he stares at the man. His right hand blindly searches the bar for his beer. Upon finding it he says, "And I've forgotten what I was going to say... But it would've been good!" He says pointing a finger into the man's chest. "Real fuckin' good."

The man smiles. Too many teeth, I think. "I'm sure it would have been brilliant," the man says without a trace of sarcasm. "Now, if it's a story you want, I may be able to oblige. If you don't mind, that is."

Max nods eagerly and does a half curtsy in his seat. I turn in my stool and face the bar. My beer is still full but I motion for Sammy to pull another. I watch Max and the man in the bar's dirty mirror.

The man takes another sip of his drink, smiles the same toothy smile, and then starts. "Now this might be old news to some of you, especially those in the forensics department," a wink to Max. "But did you ever hear what happened to Dr Brookstone over at Brookstone Dental?"