Nothing Left of Engle
By Greg Wilburn
Copyright 2015 Greg Wilburn
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NOTHING LEFT OF ENGLE
She was bitten, plain and simple. It’s not that she’d never been bitten before, but this specific instance had been completely out of the ordinary. Everything had been as routine as it could be on the kindergarten playground at Wilston Day School. Renee sat there on the playground bench in her blue tank top and jean short-shorts perfectly situated on her small, delicate build. She fanned her over-producted hair swiftly, letting it slide across her pale neck with grace. When she wasn’t scanning the coodie-cautions, handball games, backflips off swing sets, and jump roping with impatience, she glanced down at the brand-new shoes Jake had bought her the day before.
It was a complete shock for Jake to show up during her lunch session with the other teachers, brand new shoes in hand. She smiled shyly as she recalled the incident. In he walked with his thick-plated muscles barely contained within his tight red polo, a glint of sweat spreading on his soft skin. His khakis shuffled slightly, whispering of his presence. His taut buttocks caught the leering eyes of all the teachers, male and female alike, as he crossed the space of the teachers’ lounge. He came from behind and wrapped Renee up in one of his signature Teddy-Bear hugs, which were completely unorthodox for such a large and sturdy build.
She remembered how his clean-shaven face slid along hers and wrapped it up in a soft, wet kiss that swept the frustration of little Donna’s throw-up in classroom A-3 away. She had looked into his strong-jawed face that held two green emeralds resting beneath a head of neatly combed brown hair and wondered why he’d come. Next thing she knew, the long box from Aliceé’s Boutiqe on Tarland Street shoved her apple juice and half-eaten BLT sandwich to the opposite side of the table. She looked to the box, and then to her wonderful husband nearly a thousand times before he finally said, “Go ahead, Baby. Open it.” Renee threw the box open with glee and gently lifted the three hundred and sixty-five dollar pair of shoes out of the box. Although inappropriate, she showered her knight with kisses, almost having him take her right then and there. But as the staff looked on in anticipation of what could possible happen before them, she gave him a final kiss and sent him home to await her return. But don’t worry; he was amply rewarded for his act of heroism that day.
She wore the shoes to school the next day against her better judgment, and as she fanned herself silly with her lesson plan for the day, she was attacked.
And when I say attacked, I mean it. Jenny, aged five years and two months, snuck to sweet Mrs. Engle’s side and latched onto her left wrist with bloody and sharpened teeth. Renee was snapped out of her romantic sentiments for Jake and found herself instinctively smack Jenny atop her balding head. Jenny let go for a second, retracting back in surprise, but an animal instinct consumed her, forcing her to latch onto the same spot on the left wrist for a second time. Renee squealed in horror as she felt the muscles tear and the teeth scrape her thin wrist bones. It took two other teachers to pry the deranged child from its host, sending the monstrous leech home to her parents without lunch in concern.
Renee sat at home later that night pondering why such a sweet little girl had decided to perform such a hideous act. She winced in pain as she nursed the wound, replacing the soggy bandage with a fresh new one. Jake repeatedly came and doted on his dearly beloved to the point where she shooed him away, reminding him that she was more than capable of handling herself. Dinner that night was a homemade stir-fry served with a side of white rice and miso soup.
Two days later was when the sickness started. 2 a.m. was the worst time to start vomiting, let alone spew bile filled with blood into the toilet. Jake woke up at the sound and rushed to her side. After a few more choked yelps from the woman’s lungs, Jake rushed his wife to the hospital.
The nurses were more than accommodating to the infected Renee, and she knew it was because her gorgeous man-candy was her attendee. Not that she minded though; she always loved to brag about her wonderful husband, starting with his wonderful body and working her way into his charm and desire to see every foster child in the system find a love-filled home. Unfortunately, the doctor found rupturing cells in her system that were releasing dangerous fluids into her bloodstream. Renee was forced to stay in the hospital for eight days until some minor operations were performed, finally being released to a prolonged period of bed rest at home.
Jake asked her if he should take some vacation time to play nurse, but Renee wouldn’t have it. “I can’t make you stop the merger at work just for me,” she said weakly from the soft bed. “You go make those important deals and I’ll be fine here. I promise.” Jake left hesitantly after more prodding from his wife, slowly backpedaling out the door, down the driveway, and into his newly washed black car. With the whir of the motor out of earshot, Renee tried to get some sleep.
She woke up in a panic. The pounding screams echoing in her skull were all too much for her sickly body to handle. Renee opened her eyes repeatedly and shook her head, trying to force the slimy red film spread over her world off. A low growl filled the room as she tried to stand at the side of the bed, and she ran towards the kitchen in a panic. Although she started out in a run, she found herself crawling, creeping close to the ground, watching angrily as thick and bloodied saliva waterfalled out of her mouth. She reached the phone and started to dial, but at the final number in the 9-1-1 sequence, a horrid impulse forced her to throw the phone against the far wall of the house, shattering it.
Renee tried to get a grip on herself, but an animalistic hate spread over her mind and body, forcing her head to fill with synaptic explosions and her legs to tremble so vigorously she could no longer move. She crumbled to the floor and felt warm urine flow down her legs, soaking through her aged college sweats. She lifted her left wrist before her eyes and ripped the bandage off the unhealed wound. She momentarily recalled the marvel in the doctors’ eyes at the inability for the deep bite marks to heal, forcing them to replace the bandage on the slow-bleeding wound each day.
Renee looked at the holes in her wrist in awe. Each jagged bite mark had black and crimson slime oozing out, and a putrid crust had formed around the edges of each mark. Black veins smiled beneath her light skin, just beneath the surface. A paralysis set itself over her body, and Renee was left on the hardwood floor of her two story house convulsing in a growing puddle of her own urine and blood for a seemingly endless interval of time.
She came to in a dark haze as Jake lifted her from the damp floor. She could barely recognize his words as he said, “Oh God, Renee! I’m gonna get you outta here Baby, you just hold on! I won’t let anything happen to you.” Jake was only able to take her halfway through the living room before she attacked.
Her last moments of consciousness were filled with Jake. Renee lashed out angrily at him, scratching him across the face with a harsh swipe. He held her tighter, trying to cross the wide room. She began to kick and scream, trying to find words. But none came. The only sounds that tumbled out her mouth were bone-shattering screams and piercing squeaks that forced him to move faster. Renee, convulsing as the infection took hold, threw her bloody jaws to Jake’s neck and clamped down with force. A wet snap filled her ears as Jake crumbled to the floor, dropping Renee in a growing pool of blood. Renee, completely overtaken by the parasitic infection, disjointed her body, discarding her humanity and transforming into
a monster from her deepest nightmares. And with her final conscious breaths, she felt herself lick her bloody lips, savoring the taste of her loving husband.
The police, summoned by the Engle’s neighbors at 8:36 p.m., forced themselves into the home. The house was dimly lit, but the flashlights the two officers carried illuminated the blood-soaked walls, floors, and counters of the home. The duo crept into the house silently, stopping short of the living room as wet snaps echoed in the air. Guns drawn, they turned a corner and came face to face with a woman, or at least what once was a woman.
The grotesque creation before them loomed over the disembodied corpse of its kill, snarling at the police officers in the hallway. The flashlights shone upon it, revealing a ghastly creature with torn skin leaking a thick black fluid. Its eyes were sunken into the skull and thin streams of blood flowed from the sockets. Its hair was torn from its head, and deep claw marks allowed more fluids to leak from the skull. The beast smiled wide, showing a mouth filled with sharp, jarred teeth. And resting below the monster was the half-eaten corpse of what once was a man, only identifiable by a convulsing hand at the base of the pile of pulp, organ, and bone. The officers stood there paralyzed, disgusted by what they beheld.
The monster rose high and let a horrid shriek fly out of its lungs. An array of gunshots pierced its hide as it leapt into the air, a few feet above the policemen. And as the final ticks of the plastic dog clock near the kitchen struck 8:45 p.m., the officers stared in disbelief at the two unrecognizable bodies lining the floor of the Engle’s home.
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Thank you for taking the time to read this story. I hope you enjoyed it and will support the stories I write in the future.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
To Rene, a wonderful friend that will always be treasured.