Crimson Rivers

13) The Beast

He drove aimlessly down several streets, passed by his school, and lingered outside Amanda's house, nearly going inside, but couldn't do it. He didn't want to be more of a burden than he already felt he was. The thought of staying at a hotel for the night came, but he felt it was just delaying the inevitable. Eventually, he ended up back home. If he could even call it that anymore.

Visions of the orb passed, shining in more clarity than the fog of the real world. He was still in there, the tube pumping into his mouth, floating in the immaterial warmth.

He waited in his car, praying Rich wouldn't be in there. Shivering in fear, he stepped out and waited at the door a second before heading inside. He entered quietly, closing the door slowly and walked with light feet.

Hoping to force something down, he tiptoed to the kitchen.

But there he was.

Sitting at the dining room table, slurping some soup, and drinking a beer. Casual, calm, in a pair of pajamas he must have changed into when he got home from work. In one hand, he held a spoonful of soup, and with the other, he swiped down on his phone.

The sight filled Charlie with rage, shown in gritted teeth and clenched fists. How could he carry on like normal after what he had done to him? When he looked at him, he didn't feel fear anymore. It was something he'd never felt before. Hate.

Rich turned around, his face dropping at the sight of Charlie.

"Charlie-"

His voice sent Charlie spiraling back to the other world, back inside the orb. After delivering one more wave of fluid, the tube in his mouth reeled out from his body, hanging limply inside. Charlie kicked at the bottom of the orb, feeling an immense amount of strength course through his muscles. The gel resisted, grabbing his feet, but he fought back and kicked harder, tearing through the membrane.

Fluid rained down around him as he tumbled out, landing in the fetal position on the floor, a bitter taste on his tongue.

He looked up into the black sky. The spiral above him began to swallow the world, sucking it within, but leaving Charlie untouched and floating above the empty chasm below. Piece by piece the shadowy world vanished, folding away to return Charlie to reality.

The hate building up in Charlie's stomach boiled over, and the only thing he could think of was Rich dead on the floor. The thought manifested itself and a long tentacle sprung out from Charlie's back. He screamed out in pain as the tentacle tore out from his flesh. Rich looked on in horror, his face in utter disbelief.

Another tentacle came out from the other side, below his shoulder. It shot forward, wrapping around Rich's neck in one fluid motion. He ignored the pain in his back and watched Rich beg for air, his eyes bulging out, and his face turning blue. A smile crept across Charlie's face. He willed the tentacle to lift Rich up and it did, allowing Charlie to see his legs frantically search for the ground. The soup fell off the table, spilling over onto the carpet. Rich clawed at the tentacle around his neck, trying to peel it off, but Charlie squeezed tighter, savoring the sound of the last bit of air leaving his lungs.

His hand reached towards Charlie, pleading. He rolled his eyes and folded his hand into a fist, delivering the final squeeze. His limp corpse hung in his grasp, legs swaying. After taking one final look at his blank gaze, with a loud thud, he slammed him against the wall.

"What was that?" Mom yelled out from her room.

Charlie quickly turned around, ecstasy passing through him. How would he end her? Suffocation would be too easy. She deserved something much worse, something poetic.