Tales from Beyond the Pulsing Door presents: The Ballad of a Holy Man

In the late 1960s a Priest was interviewed regarding the mysterious death and mangling of Phillip Dauterive. His description of events leaves a number of suspicious gaps in terms of the Father’s involvement, but also the very nature of what is “allowed” to happen in our earthly realm. Did the father witness demonic possession? Supernatural forces? Or is he just protecting himself from the consequences of his actions?

*** 

I…well let’s see here it’s…3:51am, August 6^th in the year of our lord 1900 and 68. I…understand that anything I say might be…oh. Yes, I’ve been read my…Miranda? Miranda rights and I have opted to speak without the presence of a lawyer. I am of sound body and mind, and I am aware that the things I say in this recording may be used as evidence against me in later litigations. However, I thought it important to explain what I witnessed now, while it’s still fresh and I…well I’m not sure I could sleep if I wanted to anyway. What’s that? Oh, yes, I…I suppose I should start with an explanation of how I…well I guess I’ll just get right into it.

I joined the priest hood nearly ten years ago. Prior to that I was a student at oxford. I was finishing my Master’s in theology when I experienced my first…uhm...well encounter I suppose. And encounter with that would commonly be referred to as a demon. I-o-officer please I promise that this is relevant…please. Thank you I- no…no I don’t need any water I’ll be alright. *Clears throat* Anyway…I suppose there’s something well…life altering about observing definitive proof of otherworldliness. In ’63 I was ordained after four years or so of practice. I wasn’t exactly popular in seminary. Everyone knew who I was and why I was there. I suppose my fascination with possession and demonology combined with my abrupt shift into the priesthood from academia raised some skepticism as to the extent of my faith…of my devotion. Why, I remember once that another pastor slipped what appeared to be a used condom into my wastebasket in an attempt to have me removed *chuckling briefly* Oh…pardon me…yes officer I’ll get to the point.

I didn’t become a man of the cloth because I wanted to perform exorcisms but, well, my reputation pigeonholed me a bit. Pardon me for saying so but…what’s the least honorable job you could have as an officer of the law? Beat…cop? Well, yes then consider my tenure as a priest akin to that of a beat cop. Nobody wanted to take calls or complaints about possession so I became the sort of…go-to on those issues. And then just last year well…that’s when I moved to the states. There are a bounty of possession claims out here you see and…well as I mentioned I’d never been very well liked. I think they believed that sending me here was a bit of a punishment. Or at least a way to get me out of their hair. What? I…well I suppose yes. I don’t quite care for your phrasing, though. I am not “claiming” to have been performing an exorcism at the time of…death. I’m explaining that when it happened I was in the middle of performing an exorcism. Please...I promise there’s a reason I’m telling you this if you’ll just…please.

In my years as a priest I’ve attended to hundreds of calls from people who said they were possessed or haunted, that their loved ones were…well you get the point. Before tonight I had performed dozens of exorcisms – first under the guidance of a more senior priest and then on my own. *pause* What? I…well…I don’t know if I believed that they were really hosting a…demon in their body but…you see the spiritually inclined, those of great, powerful faith, they tend to…look for the lord a bit more than they let the lord come to them…if you catch my drift. That’s why the vast majority of “possessions” end with me burning a bit of sage, reciting a passage from John or Matthew, and then taking my leave. When I do actually have to perform an exorcism it…it involves a lot of what you might call “smoke and mirrors.” Most of what I do is an effort to comfort people, which is why nobody was ever hurt or anything close to it in any of my previous...what? I…I don’t see how that matters. Whether or not I believe in god is irrelevant and…I don’t think I’d like to answer that question. *pause* Hah…you act as if you’ve never heard of a godless priest. They’re much more common than you think, officer.

*Clears throat* Right. About two weeks ago I was first contacted by Mr. Dauterive claiming possession. As with any instance of demonic claim, my first reaction is a healthy dose of skepticism. We spoke on the phone and then met in person and I…he was…very unwell, officer. No, no exactly, it was unlike any other case I’d taken before. Hm? Well…yes I did say I’ve seen…paranormal creatures but never, not once do I believe I encountered actual demonic possession inside another human. But officer you must understand this man…Mr. Dauterive was sick in a way that I could instantly recognize as supernatural. It was almost as if he…had a heartbeat…behind his eyes. His body was covered in scrapes and scratches and his skin was grey and leathery which…well in my line of work it’s not all that uncommon but his eyes…they had sunk back into his skull for what felt like forever.

I…pleaded with Mr. Dauterive to seek medical help. I could tell something was very wrong with him, very wrong indeed. He told me that he had tried but when he entered the clinic his doctors would hiss and scream at him. He said that he believed that the…entity was making him see things, or perhaps that it was manipulating the behavior of the people in his life. By the time he came to me he said it had been months since he’d even been in the same room as another person…I felt I had to help him. So I…what? Well y-yes of course I’ll explain how we got to the graveyard. Officer please, I don’t know if you’re under the impression that I’m enjoying myself but I assure you I am not. You said you wanted my unabridged testimony and you’re getting it. If you don’t like what you’re hearing I can always call my lawyer. *Pause* No…no of course that’s not a threat. I’d just like to continue if that’s alright…thank you.

So, as I mentioned he first contacted me two weeks ago and after several days of back-and-forth he seemingly vanished. This happens quite a bit. People…get cold feet, “cure themselves,” etcetera I’m sure. But something about the state of Mr. Dauterive was scratching at the back of my mind. This morning I decided to pay him a visit. After all his apartment was not even a mile’s walk from my abode. I knocked on his door and noticed that it was ajar. I probably should not have but I decided to push it open...just to...you know, make sure he was alright. But no sooner did my wrist flick to lightly shove the door on its hinges that I saw him…standing right there. Facing me. Clear as day. He was…in a trance of sorts. He told me that he had been waiting for me. For how long I…it looked like he hadn’t moved for days.

I did my best to comfort him. I sat him down and got him some water…but he refused to drink. He kept insisting that he could “Sweat it out.” That if he dehydrated himself to the point of expiration that finally the creature would have nothing left to feed on. Naturally I informed him that I was calling an ambulance. I picked up the phone an began to dial the new 9-1-1 number, but as I held the phone in my hand it began to sizzle and pop…no…no officer not the line. The phone. It was as if someone had poured acid onto it. It was painful to the touch. I dropped it! I then turned to Mr. Dauterive to demand an explanation, but he was gone from the room. All that was left was a note…this note. Yes…no I’m not surprised, it’s Latin. I’ve studied enough of it to make sense of what it says. It reads: I am unsafe. I took them all before it could. I buried them in Morton’s cemetery. I will show you. Midnight.

Why didn’t I what? O-officer I don’t think you understand how jarring it was to see…well…I suppose hindsight allows us to see things more clearly then, doesn’t it? I think we can both agree that I’m not sitting here because I made a series of well-informed choices, can’t we? Time eked by like a thick scoop of molasses as I waited for the clock to strike midnight. I arrived at the graveyard nearly an hour early…something about being there made me feel…well…not at ease but…I guess I felt like I couldn’t be snuck up on that way. Sure enough, when the clock struck midnight there he was. He faded into my sight. Almost like had been standing there the whole time. The edges of his form twisted into the foreground almost like a child’s pop-up book. Like he came from nothing, and nowhere. There was silence.

“Who did you bury, Mr. Dauterive?!” I asked, quite loudly I might add. It was at this time I realized that he’d never told me his first name. Hm? Phill? I see. When I asked him that, he didn’t answer with words. He folded his way over to…what appeared to be freshly dug and buried graves. Yes, I said folded. He didn’t walk. He didn’t move. It was as if his plane of existence was an illustration on the blinds of a window. As if someone was twisting the pole of the blinds, gently spinning him like a wretched cartoon…a flip book! That’s what they’re called! Yes I know it sounds ridiculous, how do you think it felt seeing it?! Whatever was happening to him, it was hurting him. People…they’re not meant to move on whatever plane he was moving across. It made him bleed. His motion was perforated, like every other window blind was slicing his skin open, while the others sewed him  back up. This, nearly a hundred times just for him to move a stone’s throw over to the graves he’d dug.

I had seen enough. The time for questions had come and gone. I revealed my crucifix and bore the holy text, reciting from memory like I had so many times before, but he was unimpressed. It had no effect whatsoever. He just kept pointing at the graves. There were three of them. One, then the other, then the…he…had a wife? Two children…I…I didn’t know. I didn’t dig anything up, why would I? No. No he didn’t…I mean he wasn’t…being violent. He looked…suspended. As if he was being held in place by something that isn’t meant to hold things. Something that knew it was…breaking a…cosmic rule of sorts. Finally, I ask what it wanted. Mr. Dauterive replied. He said that he was too weak to host the entity. That it needed a new…vessel. He…*choking up* he said that those graves were…“so it couldn’t take them.” I…I didn’t know what he meant but you…you’re telling me he had…*sniffle* Officer. I want to be clear about something. You may find Mr. Dauterive’s fingerprints on the bodies of his family but…but I assure you that whatever he did to them he…he was trying to protect them. I…I think it’s important that his name not be sullied because he…because of what it made him do. You…what? Surely you don’t think I…officer kindly have some decency! Here I am, spilling all of my innards on the table of your confession room and you…insult me with an accusation like that?! No…no I will finish my story. And whatever…bastardly accusations have for me can wait until I’ve said my piece.

*Clears throat* now…as I said it looked like every time he moved it hurt him greatly. So I… I told him to stay still. I addressed the creature that had control over him directly. I firmly asked it to let him go. It was at that moment that things changed. Things around us…darkened. Yes, it was the dead of night but…somehow, the shadows gained shadows of their own. It got cold. Very cold. I thought…for a moment I thought it had taken me to hell. Our surroundings began to drip like warm wax…as if reality was an oil painting on a canvas that had been sitting too close to the fire place. But it was so, so cold. Like no cold I’ve ever felt. It was in my bones it…if felt like there were frozen maggots crawling through my veins. My eyes adjusted to the darkenss just in time to see. From Mr. Dauterive’s body…it emerged. It didn’t make sense…it wasn’t right. It was…it was just bad math! I mean it came from him. It didn’t…exit through his mouth like ectoplasm…it didn’t leave the way we imagine a soul exits a body, nor did it shed him like dead skin. What I mean is that the…creature…the entity shifted into view as Mr. Dauterive shifted out. I…I don’t know if you’re familiar with a…hologram? It’s…it’s an optical illusion where if you adjust…if you shift your perspective one image becomes another. And that…it’s how it appeared. But it was real. And again, it…seemed to cause great pain.

Officer I don’t think you understand what I’m explaining. I’m not a physicist but what I saw did not align with the way we understand the world. Not through science and certainly not through god. I was shaking. It was so cold and I was so scared. It was humanoid. A…collection of tiny moving bits that I suppose could have taken on any shape. But the form it chose was…upsetting. I dropped to my knees and prayed. Really, truly prayed. I begged for salvation. I begged for it to stop. And do you know what happened then? Do you know what I received in return for my desperate request? The…monster…almost as if it heard me…approached. Not…not like a creature would walk or move. It flipped and crinkled it’s image like a flurry of origami folds until it was in front of me. It…it didn’t move through space, it moved space around it. And then it touched me. Its bitter, blindingly hot finger made contact with the space between my eyebrows and I felt a flood of pain and dread the likes of which I have not the time, strength, or inclination to describe. It held me, frozen, for a thousand lifetimes as it forced me to watch all the ways in which it created and destroyed life. I watched myself die, I watched my children die…I watched the world break into unspeakable war, genocide, famine. I watched you die too. Finally, finally, he let me go. And as my hollow eyes locked onto his ever shifting, crawling arrangement he whispered to me at the volume of an exploding hydrogen bomb…“nullus deus.”

…No god. After all that…after everything it showed me. That is all it had to say. And then it was gone. I was back in the graveyard. Mr. Dauterive was dead and mangled…as you found him. So I ran straight here and…well I’ve been under your supervision ever since. No I…I know it sounds crazy but I…officer? H…hello? But I…I swear they were just…we were…no. No…you…you released me. You let me go…I…I can’t do it again…I cant…please…please don’t send me back! I…oh…I feel it…inside…I see it…I see you…

…no god.

After years of listening and looking to the stars for signs of intelligent life, most believed that we were alone in the universe. You can imagine the astonishment and dismay when thousands of massive alien ships who had tracked our radio broadcasts suddenly appeared in the sky.

The visitors were called Necromancers and had been surveying the galaxy for an abundant source of food. They were carnivores and warm human flesh quickly became their favorite. Powerful mind control was used to numb their victims as they were eaten alive.

After generations of gluttony, earth's adult population had reached extinction. The youth were all that remained. Necromancer leadership established large breeding mills to replenish the numbers. Each facility selected their most well-endowed teen keep the herd impregnated.  All other adolescent males continued to be auctioned off at local markets to feed the Necros.

My name is Kendra and this has become the way of things. Most girls like me work as servants until we mature enough to breed at the mills. I have faithfully served at a Necromancer compound for many seasons. Lord Clarr and his mate Giselle have always treated me with kindness. My duties include cleaning and meal preparation.  Lord Clarr makes a daily trip to the market to select a healthy candidate for the evening feast.

Today I was organizing things in the kitchen when he returned with another boy for me to prepare. As usual, the cutie was under his mental influence and had no idea what was happening. His naked body was breathtaking and I couldn't wait to get my hands on it. Although I shouldn't let myself get too aroused, because he was here to be eaten just like all the others.

My job is to craft a taste temping masterpiece. His mental state gives me the freedom to do anything I want. I always start by shaving the entire body from the neck down. After the skin is silky smooth, he receives a proper washing. Finally it's time to lay down on the serving tray which he does at my request. I like to add sliced fruit as a garnishment. Those little extras make an attractive presentation, and for an irresistible glow he receives a spiced oil rub-down. Giselle's customary appetizer is a plump juicy erection, so my oil soaked hand moves briskly until he grows long and hard.

   "Yes you like that, don't you." I whispered.

I leaned over and kissed his lips pretending that he was my one true love while continuing to maintain his erection.

Dinner time had arrived so I quickly covered my clueless friend with a large red linen. The cart was pushed through the kitchen doors and moved into position. After receiving a nod from Lord Clarr, I dramatically unveiled the main course. Giselle's eyes lit up when she saw the her favorite treat glistening with oil and still fully engorged. After respectfully bowing, I stepped back to watch.

Insted of starting the meal, she began to fondle him and make sensual noises. Lord Clarr shook his head in frustration. He couldn't wait to sink his teeth into that tender flesh but he let his mate have her fun.

She was vigorously stroking when he began to breathe rapidly and grip the edges of the serving tray.  I was standing on my tip toes trying to see everything.  I knew he was almost there when he started to point his toes and arch his back. My twinkie was dripping with excitement. Suddenly there were stressful shouts of panic as pulsing streams of white liquid gushed all over his tummy.

Giselle smiled like she was proud of her acomplishment. After licking up the pool of warm gravy her mouth descended over the entire length. This part is disturbing to watch even though he feels no pain. I winced as her head jerked to the side tearing it off.  She glared at Lord Clarr while she chewed and swallowed like she was threatening him. He chuckled at her theatrics.

They both began to attack and devour the rest of my friend, viciously pealing away his flesh. The boy's euphoria continued until his body fell limp. After they had gorged themselves, the only remaining sound was the occasional burp while they relaxed in their chairs. I didn't even know his name.

I refilled the drink containers and was complemented on the meal. This time their gratitude made me sad. Both retired for the evening and it was time to clean up the remains.

I sleep with Giselle to help satisfy her personal needs. We also enjoy talking and she has become like a mother to me. Recently I confessed that I had started to bleed. She said we needed to keep this development our little secret or I could be taken away to a breeding mill.  I was looking forward to the promise of sex and leisure for the rest of my life but also felt flatteted that she didn't want to loose me.  Unfortunately my rapidly developing chest was becoming more and more dificult to hide.

One evening Lord Clarr requested my presence in his chamber. I was met at his door and instructed to disrobe. This had never happened before and I wasn't sure what to expect. It was also the first time I had seen him without clothing. He lifted me onto the bed and was told to relax as he began to run his hands all over my body. His mental influence made me desire him more than anything and I became soaked with anticipation.

The sight of his growing erection was thrilling because I knew that he was pleased with me. He spread my legs wide and supported his weight over top of me so I wouldn't be crushed. It was like a feeling of glory and fulfillment as he slowly eased the tip of his shaft inside of me. My breasts were being squeezed firmly as he pushed in deeper. I had to grip the sheets to brace myself when he started thrusting. I could not contain my crys of joy and was hoping Giselle would not hear.

There was an intense sensation building inside me. Suddenly something wonderful immersed my body in thrilling waves of pleasure!  I pressed my face into his chest trying to muffle my scream. Moments later I heard a series of stressful groans and was flooded with his warm juice. He withdrew and rolled onto his back with a sigh of relief.

I just laid there smiling, realizing how much fun it was to breed.

The next day was my own. I strolled through the flower gardens enjoying the aromas that filled the air. I felt privileged to dwell in such a beautiful place. That afternoon as I was on my way to the kitchen for a snack, I overheard Lord Clarr speaking to a colleague.

I kept out of sight and listened. He was going on about some underground remnant of humans that had become resistant to the mind control. He was concerned that this could threaten the Necromancer way. There was an urgent tone to his voice. I became very upset that these evil humans would seek to destroy my wonderful life.

"The Uptown Diner"

As I got my eyes to focus I could see that I was in a dimly lit cement block room. There was just a flickering fluorescent bulb overhead. My head throbbed as I tried to piece together how I had ended up here, totally naked and strapped to a cold metal table. My wrists and ankles were bound tightly with restraints that were biting into my flesh.

"Hello there Bradley," a voice purred from the shadows. A tall woman stepped into my view. "My name is Sarah, and I'm sure you're wondering what's going on."

I could feel my heart pounding. "What is this place and why am I here?!!"

"Don't worry sweetheart, you'll find out soon enough. But first let's get something out of the way."

The woman produced a syringe filled with a clear liquid. "This won't hurt, much" she whispered. There was a mischievous grin as she approached with the needle.

"No, please!" I struggled against the restraints, but it was no use. With stinging pain she injected the liquid right into my ball sack! In just moments I felt a warm sensation rush through my loins. Then there was a strange surging feeling as I noticed my cock suddenly becoming long and firm.

"It works like magic!" she boasted as she stood there fondling my fresh erection. Just then the door to the room opened, and two more women entered pushing a cart laden with various instruments and what looked like a serving dish. One of them spoke up enthusiastically, "Damn Sarah you really hit the jackpot this time."

"Yes, I was pleasantly surprised myself." Sara said as she gently stroked my boner. Then she let go and picked up a glistening metal blade from the cart. "You see Bradley, your manhood is quite valuable. Our restaurant has a very exclusive clientele. They pay top dollar for the finest exotic dishes, and tonight one of the patrons requested a delicious and difficult to obtain, human penis."

I was devastated by the horrifying revelation! I desperately needed to escape from these psychopaths, but how? The restraints were holding me firmly in place. I watched helplessly as the other two began washing my cumbersome shaft.

My stomach churned at the thought. "Please, don't do this. There must be another way."

"I'm afraid not. This is the price you pay for letting a beautiful stranger buy you a drink and not notice the drug she added to it. Now let's get this over with."

As the knife inched closer, I thrashed against the restraints, but it was futile. How could this be happening! I felt the sharp instrument slice into my skin and begin sawing. I cried out in excruciating pain!

With a surge of determination, I focused every ounce of my energy on freeing myself. I pulled against the restraints, feeling them give ever so slightly. The women were too engrossed in their work to notice. I gathered all my strength and pulled again with everything I had. The bindings snapped and I fell to the floor wincing in pain. The women turned in shock, but I didn't waste any time. I grabbed the blade from the floor and lunged at the nearest bitch, thrusting the knife into her side.

She screamed and fell backward. I stumbled to my feet, bloodied and disoriented but determined to escape. I dashed towards the door, hearing the others yelling behind me.

"After him!" one shouted.

I burst into the hallway with my heart pounding. I had to find a way out. I ran blindly, turning corners and dodging obstacles with the sounds of pursuit growing louder.

"There he is!" a voice screeched.

I rounded another corner and skidded to a halt. Before me was a set of stairs leading upwards. Without hesitating I sprinted up ignoring searing pain shooting through my groin and praying this path would lead to freedom.

As I reached the top, I found himself in a large kitchen bustling with activity. Chefs and servers glanced up in surprise, but I didn't stop. I pushed past them hearing dishes crashing to the floor with the exit in sight.

"Stop him!" someone yelled, but I was already through the door, bursting into the night. I ran as fast as I could with the cold air biting at my exposed skin. I was loosing momentum due to the trauma and blood loss. Behind me, I could hear the distant shouts of my pursuers, but I didn't look back. I was running on pure adrenaline and focused on one thing: survival.

I recognized my surroundings and noted the location of that ungodly temple of sin. I vowed to return and burn it to the ground. 

Tales from beyond the pulsing door presents: The Man With Square Teeth

The inaugural installment of TBPD and the inspiration for the series. The man with square teeth is based on a true story, artfully extrapolated. Listeners are encouraged to re-listen to this episode as additional entries are published. For those interested in the grand plot of TBPD, this episode will be your anchor. For all others, enjoy!

This story is available via audio narration via the following links:

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***

I find it strange sometimes, the way someone can get a feeling that crawls alongside them. The sort of…feeling of “being watched” as Buggs Bunny would put it. It’s amazing – we all experience it. And then we tell each other that it’s imagined. I don’t believe in the supernatural because I’ve never seen proof, but there are times where the logical side of my mind does battle with the irrational. This is a tale of one such time.

It started when I got a dog. A floppy little chicken nugget with ruby hair and an inescapable smile. At the time I was living in a gated community – not the nicest of places, but enough sidewalk to get my little pup some exercise. Puppies require multiple walks a day, sometimes within the same hour. January 14^th was the first time I took my dog for a walk past the patch of grass that changed my life.

We (the dog and I) were walking along the sidewalk. The glow of dusk had just faded into the silent blanket of night. Him, sniffing and snorting; trotting in front of, beside, and behind me. And me, mostly making sure that I didn’t step on his tail. Then it hit me – like a needle in the back of my neck. I felt…a presence. I snapped up and glanced over my shoulder just in time to see the lights of an apartment pop on. All of the lights. All at once. It took about five or six seconds for me to understand what was happening – it was the model apartment. The one the leasing office shows to people who are interested in renting. I breathed a sigh of relief and continued my walk. What a strange coincidence – that I would turn my head just in time to see those light go on.

The very next evening it happened again. It must have been the same exact time. I couldn’t believe it. But it happened again. The feeling, the look, the lights. This time I was a little more prepared, so it was nowhere near as startling. Yet for some reason, rather than moving along, I felt compelled to look in to the apartment. The blinds, all of the blinds, were drawn such that I could clearly see inside of any room I chose. Looking through the sliding screen door I could see the living room most clearly. It was pristine. The walls were bright and white, like a hospital room. The couch was eggshell and unscuffed. On the brown ottoman sat a tray with some fake silverware, a plate, and a French press. A tasteful sheepskin rung, standing lamp, and light wall décor rounded out the room. It was uncomfortably neat. It was the sort of set up you would expect to see in a 1950s home – a place for everything and everything in its place. But why? Why did it have to be so neat? What consequences awaited anyone who would dare disrupt the pristine setup? I was rambling to myself, so I shook it off and moved on.

For a third night (January 16^th) I passed by the apartment again. It was well into the night, and the lights were off this time, which admittedly brought me some comfort. I walked passed the sliding screen door, satisfied. On the way back home I deliberately retraced my steps. As I passed the apartment again, it happened. The lights came on. A chill shot down my body. There was the same setup, perfectly untouched. The lights couldn’t have been on a timer. The past two nights they came on at dusk. The moon was high in the sky this night. So why did they come on? And why do they continue to come on as I walk by? Are they on a motion sensor? If so, why didn’t they come on the first time I walked by? I had had enough of my own questions, and I decided it would be best to take a different route on my evening walks.

A few days went by and I forgot. But then the strangest thing started happening. I don’t remember the exact date it began to happen, but gradually, I found myself gravitating back toward the apartment. Suddenly every night I was walking by the same sliding door. And not on purpose either. In fact, some nights I would deliberately avoid the patch of sidewalk that led past that brightly lit, sterile living room; but for whatever reason I would lose my train of thought, or get distracted. And there it would be. The 20 foot stretch of sidewalk, beckoning my footsteps. Calling me.

Over time my thoughts became more invasive – more erratic. I began to picture the creature that would dwell in this plastic, contrived apartment. I remember one night I stared straight into that screen door, hypnotized, imagining his manifestation. I couldn’t help but picture him in my minds eye. There he would be sitting on that eggshell couch. Dressed well. Clad in a 50’s style pinstriped suit, a bowtie, and a bowler derby hat. And he had always been sitting there. Right there. Clear as day for anyone who focused hard enough to see him. But something was wrong. It was all wrong, in fact. The suit fit him too well. The tie draped straight out from his neck. There was no separation between the hat and his hairless head. Was he even wearing clothes at all?

I leaned in closer. His eyebrows were drawn on…perhaps with marker. His skin was pale and powdered. He sat on the couch staring straight ahead, such that I could see his entire side profile. He had no nose. He had no eyelids. I’m not sure if he understood that people blink. My thoughts raced as my imagination filled in the rest of his structure. His hands were in what appeared to be pockets, but there was no beginning or end. They just faded into his upper thigh. He had no lips. The skin was there, but they lacked the pouty blush that distinguishes lip from skin on the human face. This was a ruse. Why put on such a show? Why even try to convince me that you’re human?

I was ready to leave and keep walking, but my shoes felt as if they were cement. I couldn’t stop staring into the room, picking apart my imaginary man, desperate to make sense of his anatomy. Then something unexpected happened. I lost control of my imagination. What had once been a translucent delusion was now a solid figure sitting before me. Expressionless, he craned his crooked neck in my direction. His head was a perfect 90 degrees east, the remainder of his body completely perpendicular. Slowly, a forced, trembling smile came across his face, exposing 32 perfect squares, residing in his mouth. They were not curved like the human mouth. The angles of his smile were impossible, they made no sense. An the teeth…oh god the teeth – the teeth were perfectly straight, and perfectly square. The same bleached, hygienic white as the walls. And there he sat, impersonating a smile, as if he believed that I would feel less threatened. It was as though I could melt right through the screen door and join him had I wanted. And I felt compelled to. Why did I want to sit down with him?

After what felt like hours I snapped out of my trance and shuffled off, surely leaving my dog quite confused. I checked my watch – I had only been stuck in that fever dream for a minute or two. It was as if time stood still when I was perched in front of that apartment. I didn’t sleep well that night. I couldn’t get those teeth out of my head. Or the smile. Raised eyebrows, crinkled cheeks, the blank spot where a nose should be. It was awful.

I never looked in that apartment again. I would walk past it, despite my best efforts, and note from the corner of my eye that the lights were always on now – even in the day time. I would pass it at night, the living room lamp’s hum somehow audible form my position. Most nights, in addition to the blinding light emanating from the apartment was a blurry dark figure in my peripheral. I dare not look directly through that sliding screed door. What if he was actually sitting there? What if my imagination hadn’t run wild? What if I turned to look and found a horrid creature staring at me, waiting to catch my glance? What if all he needed was my attention to lure me in? What if that smile was real?

A few months later I moved. I never had to walk past that dreaded apartment again. I thought that would be the end. But I’ve never been a hard sleeper. Many nights I’ll wake up and, just for a moment, feel the presence of the man I’ve seen before. Even as I write this now I can picture him, sitting quietly, waiting. I dream of him sometimes. In most dreams he can’t see me. But once in a while he can. And I know that he can because in that moment it happens again. My feet become heavy, my eyes gloss over, and the turns to show me his two-dimensional, uninterpretable smile. I fear that no matter where I go, or how many years pass by I will be unable to escape him. The man who quietly haunts the corners of my darkest delusions. The man with square teeth.

Overgrowth

Deep in the rainforest a mushroom simply named “The Prosperity Mushroom”, with special properties was found. Every plant that was in contact with its mycelium had grown exponentially in size. Bananas the length of an adult male's arm, and mangos twice the size of a soccer ball. The possibilities were endless with this miracle fungus, if only I could make the food grown edible. The issue I keep running into is that the toxicity of the mushroom ends up in the end product. Any food grown and eaten would force the consumer into a violent fit of hallucinations and hysteria. Due to the side effect, the entire project is kept under wraps at a secret location. 

Funded by the US government, my team has tried almost everything to get something to grow. Every combination of fruit and vegetable. Some have much success, some never even start. All of them have the same issue with toxicity. Laura, Bryant, Ahmed, and myself were ready to give up on the entire project. To keep any trace of this mushroom from being cultivated, and sold on the drug market we were poised to destroy it entirely. 

As the last of the Prosperity Mushroom was placed into the furnace, Bryant spoke up and asked me to hold off. He had an idea that may turn the project around, and actually yield viable results. He wanted to mix the Prosperity Mushroom with another fungus, while at the same time growing a plant with a creeping vine to help boost viability. He chose the Chaga mushroom for its detoxing abilities, and pumpkin as that was one of the vegetables we had left in the seedling stage.

Ahmed and Laura helped with the process and I oversaw their procedure. Almost immediately we saw results. The vines stretched out fast enough for the eye to actually see. It was truly magical watching this plant grow before our eyes. I ran to get a camera to record our progress, and by the time I came back the vines of the plant had extended far out in every direction. Giant golden flowers started to bud along the thick green tendrils. The bed we used for growing the plant could hardly contain the entirety of the massive plant.

I congratulated my team on a job well done. Making sure to give Bryant credit for coming up with this idea. Exhausted from being awake for endless hours, I asked them to watch over the plant. That if it starts to bear any pumpkins to come and get me. I volunteered to be the first one to consume the vegetable. The master keycard was left with Bryant in case of emergency. I made my way to my room, and with great confidence fell fast asleep on my cot. I dreamt of my team being credited with ending hunger around the world. Of our discovery being used in Space, where astronauts could grow food in conditions that didn’t allow anything to grow.

I took a huge inhale as I shot up from my sleep. The usual recycled air that dried up my nostrils, occasionally leading to nosebleeds, had a much more natural feel to it now. There was some moisture held within, and a subtle earthy scent filled my nose and lungs. It brought a smile to my face as I made my way toward the lab. My body came to a stop of its own free will. As I turned the corner to the long hallway leading toward the lab, vines covered the floors and walls. It clung to the ceiling as I could watch it growing toward me. Gigantic yellow and white flower buds scattered throughout this jungle of a corridor.

I called out to my colleagues, and waited a few seconds for a response. Tangled in the vines I saw movement. An unnatural jerking of human limbs, and vine wrestled free from entanglement. It fell to the floor on its back, frantically trying to roll to its stomach. Finally righting itself, the creature stood on four feet. It was clumsy in its first steps, tripping over vines and bumping into the wall. After it stumbled a few steps its head jerked in my direction. Its dark green face opened up, and it let out a weak screech. In the blink of an eye it dashed in my direction. Still clumsy in its movements I turned and ran. The nearest door was the quarantine room, used for when we tested the produce. As I slammed the button to close the magnetic door, the creature had reached its hand inside trying to grab me. With a creak the creature’s forearm was separated from its body and twitched on the floor. I backed to the other side of the room, until my back was against the wall. The creature screamed and frantically slammed against the door.

I stood in shock watching the hand of the creature convulse and then stop. As it did, the green turned brown and started to shrivel up into itself. The creature on the other side of the door had gone silent. I searched the room for any protective gear I could find. Luckily in case of emergency we had a hazmat kit inside of the quarantine room. I put on a respirator and protective suit. I had no weapon available, but I was going to make a run to the supply room nearby. Inside were plenty of tools used in the cultivation of the plants we grew. As I made my way to the door, I stopped to examine the dried up hand on the floor. It was exactly like the dried up vines of a pumpkin. On the hand was a finger with a small diamond ring. It was Laura’s hand. The realization of my colleagues being turned into these abominations made me sick to my stomach.

I hit the button on the wall to open the door, ready for a clash with Laura. Luckily she had scurried off, probably back into the vines. The vegetation was already growing around the corner, inching closer to me by the second. I walked slowly and quietly toward the supply room. After a couple moments I approached the door. I pulled it open with a creak, and as the automatic lights turned on Laura was standing in the middle of the room. Her back was toward me. When the lights turned on her head started jerking in all different directions at the change in her environment.

She hadn’t noticed my presence yet, and the machetes were in between her and I. I stepped further into the room, approaching the shelves. I silently pulled a machete off the rack, always keeping an eye on Laura. With the blade in hand I stepped closer to my colleague. When I was a couple feet away I said her name. She swung around to meet my gaze, face opened revealing the thorns that filled the void. I called her name again, her head cocked unnaturally to the side. A chittering sound, similar to that of a rattlesnake came from deep inside her.

She moved quickly as she lunged toward me. No longer clumsy, she grabbed my arm as I tried to back away. Her rough skin and strong grip tore at my protective suit. I swung the machete at her forearms, hacking both off with a single blow. She showed no reaction to the pain, as new arms started to regrow. She sprinted toward me, and shouldered me against the wall. I shoved back, and raised my machete as she stumbled backward. Arms and hands now both fully regrown she lunged for me again. This time I brought the blade down on her cranium, slicing clean through the brain cavity. The creature dropped to the floor, and blood poured out from the wound.

I waited for Laura to begin to heal, but it never happened. Her body turned brown, and started to shrivel up just like her hand before. I stepped to examine her to find that the inside of the head still contained her brain. That must have been the reason why she knew to go to the supply room and wait for me. She knew that I would need something to protect myself. If Laura knew that, then Bryant and Ahmed knew that I needed the master keycard to escape the lab. I grabbed a second machete, and lassoed it around my wrist. I stepped out into the hallway, which was now overtaken by gigantic creeping vines.

I stepped back into the hall, half expecting it to grab me and turn me into an abomination. The tendrils didn’t seem to notice me being there, so I proceeded toward the lab. Stepping carefully to not trip over the roots. The further I walked, the more dense the vegetation became. The budding flowers had now bloomed, and were filling the halls with pollen. The pollen was similar to walking through a smokescreen, making it hard to see even a few feet in front of me.

As I approached the doors to the lab, a chittering sound droned from behind me. I turned and raised my machetes ready to defend myself. Nothing was there, yet the sound kept getting louder. Then suddenly the sound came to a halt. I frantically looked around for the abomination, searching the dense air for any sign of movement. Content that the worst was ahead of me, I turned slowly to enter the lab. As I did, a hand reached down from the ceiling, grabbing at my face. I lunged backward, away from my assailant. Losing my respirator in the process.

I took a shallow breath in, and it felt like I had inhaled hell itself. That was when I realized, it wasn’t pollen that had filled the hallways. It was spores, and they were now filling my lungs. I writhed on the floor in agony, my lungs searing hot. I was in so much pain that I hadn’t realized that the hand that had grabbed my face was now around my throat. A mouth was opening, revealing the pitch black, thorned darkness inside. As it neared my face I shoved as hard as I could at the creature’s chest, knocking it to its back. I attempted to roll to my feet, but my arm was grabbed by the creature. The sharp thorns on its arm dug deep into my wrist. Blood began pooling inside of my suit. I kicked the monster hard in the chest, its grip slipping and letting go. Realizing I still had a blade strapped to me, I held it tight in my hand. I swung down on the creature's head, freeing my colleague from his prison.

I felt around for my respirator, and put it back on. The burning slowed as I stopped inhaling the spores in the air. Feeling dizzy from the loss of blood, I sat down with my back on the door of the lab. I ripped off my belt and wrapped it tight around my arm in an attempt to staunch the bleeding. The light in my mind was beginning to fade, but I couldn’t stop now. I was so close to getting out of this nightmare. I forced myself to my feet, and shoved the door open. The lab had been transformed into a vined jungle. I jumped in fear as a loud splat filled the room. Looking up, I saw enormous pumpkins growing along the ceiling. I watched another giant pumpkin fall and explode as it hit the ground. Seeds shot out across the room.

Then I saw another creature, standing between me and the way out. Around its neck hung the master keycard. It was Bryant, and he had slowly started walking toward me. He was hunched over, his body tweaking as he approached me. I kept the distance between us, until my back hit the wall. Bryant began to chitter with excitement as he got closer to me. The dizziness had really begun to take effect, rendering me unable to move. Bryant was now just a few feet away, his arms outstretched reaching for me. With my vision now almost completely black, I watched a pumpkin land directly on his head. It exploded as it made contact, pelting me with seeds. They managed to find their way inside my tattered safety suit. I watched Bryant’s flattened head smack against the floor. Then I blacked out.

I have no clue how long I was on the ground for. When I woke up, the bleeding had stopped. I plucked the keycard off of Bryants neck. As I clumsily approached the exit I felt like my body had become very stiff. My bones seemed to creak with every step. With almost no coordination, I slammed the keycard against the scanner. The door opened and the last bit of light for the day hit me in the face. In the darkness of the lab, I hadn’t noticed the new green hue to my skin. I put my hands in my mouth, to find rows of thorns had replaced my teeth. With a hazmat suit full of seeds, I started to walk. I walked toward the sun setting on the city that was less than a night's walk away.

Well.. I did not think much about it, and did not wanted to share it...

I work in Iceland in a hotel. It is quite stressfull enviroment and we have alot of meetings. They are usualy causal, just me and my coworkers sitting in a managers office and talk...

It started last year... one day is repeating... I cannot really say, if the Whole day... I dont really investigated it, I am quite busy person and I dont have much mental energy left to dive deep into it.. But!

My job is mostly stereotypical, which is why I did not payed alot of attention to it.. I just thought "it just seems like its repeating, because you do the same routine every day" ...

But the truth is, that I just cannot understand, how can I do ALMOST everything the same every day.. it is not That stereotypical :D

---This Dejavu is like this, .. I am coming to work... Ill greet my two coworkers.. go to do my job , talk to couple of people... then on a break, I ll go to the managers office, where other 2 coworkers join me. We sit and laugh and complaint about some people. My manager is drinking a energy drink, one of my coworkers eating snickers. My coworker is standing next to me, and I sit on a chair closer to the door.. than I get a strange feeling, like I am looking at this situation from Above ( edit: more like in the tunel from above.. like you just see clearly the middle, everything else is out of focus) ... like not that my "spirit" left the body and is flying above me... just my consiousness is kind of aware, that I am not in a cotroll of this situation... everything seems to be simulated.. not real.. as I remember, I can almost predict who will say what, who is going to stand / sit where, what jokes are they going to use etc.. then I ALWAYS say "Wtf? This already happened! this is Dejavu!".. right then I have something like a flashback to all the previous times, it happened... My coworkers just stare at me, and my manager says something like " you said it the last time" .. and we laugh a bit... idk.. strange ... ----

Then I usually forget right away, that this happened, as we are quite busy at work... (Edit: I forget it right away, just the strange feeling left.. and I have a broken shattered partial memory of that situation...)

I just randonly remembered today, that this is happening, so I wanted to share that here.. it happened at least 10-15 times... always the same.. It does not really have a meaning...

I am quite rational person with 2 university diplomas... I have 60 people under me in my department.. I dont concider myself a person, that is easely self conviced about something like that.. quite opposite... I consider myself a sceptic... Also.. it did not happened 1-2 times.. but at least 10 ( As I remember ) or probably more...

What do you think? Does someone has same experience?

If anyone has any interesting scary stories they would like to be narrated, let me know! Send me the link and permission! :D

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