Window to the Soul
"Oh, my God!" Holli squeaked and shook her hands in delighted disgust. "That's sick. Does it hurt?"
"Totally not," said Monica. "Well, a little at first, y'know? Like a stuck eyelash." She rolled her eyes to the right again to expose her new I-Zomb.
The heart-shaped patch on her left eyeball was a bit smaller than the iris. Holli watched as it flashed blood red then faded to cool silver.
"I SO want one. You gotta tell me where you got it."
"There's a new place in the mall, mega-creepy, called "Soul Windows", and -" The warning bell rang and the two girls joined a general rush to class. By the end of the of the school day Holli had forgotten her desire for an I-Zomb.
The weekend passed in a rush of travel, cousins, and too much food. Back at school Monday, Holli remembered; everyone seemed to have an I-Zomb except her. But Monica was out sick and Holli was reluctant to go malling without her best friend; she felt like it was cheating or something, so she didn't go. Tuesday morning Holli spotted Monica at her locker and rushed over, not noticing the lack of traffic in the hall.
"Oh, m'God," blurted Holli, "I hope you're okay today, 'cause we need to go and get my I-Zomb, okay? After school today, okay?" Monica grunted and gave a nod before walking tiredly away, leaving Holli concerned. She didn't want to, but if Monica punked out today, Holli was going without her.
Luckily it didn't come to that, though Monica wasn't good company. She didn't say a word the entire bus-ride to SouthCrest Mall, responding to Holli's monologue with the barest of nods and grunts. When Monica walked straight through the mall without a moment of window shopping, Holli awoke to her friends strange behavior. Taking Monica's arm, Holli guided her to the food court and made her sit at a table. Sitting beside her, Holli looked Monica in the eye.
The I-Zomb was black, no changing colors, and it seemed larger. Worse, Monica's eyes were as dead as a drunken jock's conscience.
"Oh, my, God, you're high!" Holli jumped up. "I feel sorry for you. Just stay right here, okay? I'll make sure you get home, but I can't hang out with druggies." She hurried away, cursing under her breath, not noticing the vacant stares and lurching stagger of some fellow mall-goers.
Before she knew it, she nearly stumbled into the open door of "Soul Windows." It looked as creepy as Monica said, though not a Halloween kind of creepy, but a dark decor and funky smell creepy. Chin up, Holli walked in.
Once inside she could see much of the decoration was tacky; velvet paintings of slasher movie scenes, skulls so obviously fake she knew there was a tiny "Made in China" sticker on the bottom. The goth-emo girl behind the counter didn't even greet Holli as she approached.
"Hello. Uhm, I want, that is I'd like to get an I-Zomb?"
The counter girl snapped her gum emotionlessly and raised the flap for Holli to pass behind the counter. Another girl appeared through the curtains and guided Holli to a medieval-looking chair with straps and buckles. A wild-haired old guy in a white coat greeted her.
"Hello there, young lady, and welcome to my establishment." He bustled around, got Holli in the chair, showed her a catalogue of I-Zomb images, chatting the whole while.
Almost before she knew it, Dr. Bayne was lining up his brass and glass 'matrix imprinter' on her left eye.
"This will sting a little bit at first, but it'll pass quickly. I think the star is a good choice, very pretty." He peeked out from behind the machine, smile full of yellowed teeth. "Just read the chart on the wall there out loud and we'll get started."
"I, state your name. . ." she paused and giggled, decided to read ahead. "Wait," she said, "what does 'surrender my immortal soul' mean? I mean, I know what it means, but I don't understand."
"Don't worry, dear," said Dr. Bayne cheerily. "It's just a formality, it means nothing, really." Impatience raised his voice. "Just read it aloud, I'll explain everything after.
"Actually," said Holli, "I just remembered? I have an appointment with, uhm, a friend." She got up from the chair.
"No, no, this won't take long." He waved his hands, moved to block her way. "Please sit back down."
"Sorry," Holli said, ducking past him and running out of the shop. She fled back to the food court where Monica still waited.
"OmyGod, get up, get up," Holli blurted, panting from fear and exertion. "We gotta go, c'mon Monica." She yanked her friend up and dragged her toward the nearest exit, weaving through the maze of tables and chairs. "Hurry up."
Suddenly Monica stopped, yanked Holli to a stop as well.
"Don't you wanna be cool?" said Monica. "Don't you want your I-Zomb?"
"Not from that guy, I don't." Holli tugged at her friend, but she wouldn't budge. "Let's go!" Holli dropped Monica's hand to get behind her and push, but stopped when she noticed a small crowd of shuffling youths closing in on them from all directions.
"I-Zomb first. I-Zomb." Monica began to repeat the word over and over, and the teenagers around them took up the chant. Holli screamed as reaching hands seized her and dragged her back to "Soul Windows."
And so began the Teenage I-Zomb Apocalypse.
The End
WARNING: Adult-ish content - language and sexual situation
"Oh, badass," said Len as he slapped the Corolla into park. "Check it out."
Having been painfully awakened by the tire-screeching stop, Megan refused to answer. Instead she rubbed where her shoulder had struck the dash and lit a cigarette. As usual, Len totally failed to get it - he scrambled out of the car without acknowledging her discomfort. Resigned, she got out, too. No need to broil while he ransacked the trunk for his Nikon and tripod.
The disused road was barely paved; WV County Road 8/3 declared a rusting sign just ahead. All Megan knew was they were somewhere between Ohio and Pennsylvania. If they'd stuck to the highways they'd be back in Greensburg by now, but Len always insisted on taking the long way after a show for just this reason. She had respected his desregard for most other people when they first met, but not so much now that it extended to her.
She leaned the butt of her khaki short-shorts against the front fender and tried to enjoy the smoke, but the smell of decay struck her between puffs. Apparently the road wasn't entirely abandoned; something small and furry and maggotty was flattened on the asphalt near the other shoulder.
"Oh, God," Megan muttered then raised her voice. "Len, how long?"
"As long as it takes," he snapped distractedly as he tried to get the tripod low enough on the shoulder to catch the road kill in the foreground.
Cursing under her breath, she shaded her eyes to look up. The sun blazed down from an otherwise empty sky; there was no possiblility of relief. The only thing that looked cool was the blanket of forest covering the hills around them. With another curse she flipped the cigarette butt at the faded center line and lit another. For a moment she considered thumbing down the next car that passed, leave Lenny in the dust.
They both had too much invested for that to happen, she was sure. House, furniture, her job, his photography business - it was all too twisted together to abandon. Still, she fondly considered the possibility of freedom until the cigarette scorched its filter. Instead of lighting another, she leaned back over the hood, propped her left flip-flop on the front wheel and pulled up her spaghetti-strap tank top to let the sun warm her belly and breasts. If Len wasn't interested, maybe someone driving by might enjoy a show.
Megan's pose had almost become a nap when the trunk slammed shut. Pique mostly passed, she resolved to let the bad feelings go for the day. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and blew it out slowly, hoping the stress would go with it. A shadow passed over her face and a warm hand gently caressed her left breast.
"Mmm, like what you see, baby?" she said with a smile and opened her eyes, but Len wasn't there, nobody was there. She sat up with a jerk; Len was still fiddling with his Nikon on the trunk.
"What I see is a dumbass trying to get us arrested," he said, rolling his eyes. "Cover your tits up."
Absently, Megan pulled her down her top and stood up. She peeked under the neckline, checked the front, even looked over the road for anything that might have fallen and touched her like that. The caress had been so real, so warmly sensual, that the girl could hardly believe she'd imagined it. The only explanation was a dream, and that's what she decided it was when Len summoned her to the rear of the Toyota.
"Yeah, baby?" she asked cheerfully.
"Look at these shots. They are gonna kick some ass." He turned the laptop so she could see the screen The first two were basic candid shots showing the decaying structure and the trees behind. The third was different - the tumbled rock and weathered wood structure was the same as the first two, but the angle was different, showing the road kill in the foreground and emphasizing one taller tree in the background.
The fourth was a better framed version of the third, but with something so different it took her a few seconds to actually make it out. The blurred figure of a nude woman with glowing eyes kneeled over the dead animal in the foreground.
"Shit! What the hell, Len?" Despite the temperature she shivered.
"I know, right? Definitely a show piece."
"Whatever," Megan said. She crossed her arms. "That thing is just creepy."
"It's just an old house," he said sharply. "Get a grip."
"No, the girl." As she watched him glance at the screen then give her a puzzled look. "Right there," she said, "right there." She tapped the screen.
"What? What are you talking about?"
"Just look and tell me you don't see that girl."
"No girl, Meg. Tree, house, dead thing," he said, pointing at each as he named them, "but no girl. What's wrong with you?"
Before she could answer something licked her bare toes. She gave a wordless yell and hopped away from the car. Len's cruel laughter instantly changed her fear to anger.
"Why the hell are you screwing with me?" Her fists balled unconsciously.
"Screwing with YOU? Are you fucking kidding? You've been a bitch all weekend!"
The fight didn't last long. In minutes Megan was watching the silver Corolla speed away, Len's left hand out the window showing the bird. Rage bouyed her courage until she figured out her cell phone was still in the car, but after a few tears she pulled herself together. A thought made her smile; it looked like she'd get to practice hitchhiking after all.
"You are Left," came a hoarse whisper behind her.
Megan spun around, hands up protectively. Her heart was slamming in her chest but almost stopped when she saw the woman from the picture standing just inches away. For a brief moment Megan seemed to sense everything around her; no cars in sight, how far away the crumbling house was, the sound of birds squabbling in a flowered bush near the house, the smell of carrion and something else, something musky and exotic.
What Megan couldn't see clearly was the woman right in front of her. Taller than Megan, she was blurred, like rising heat waves distorted her body. In that instant of hesitation the woman tenderly took Megan's wrists and drew her into a hug, humming a lullaby.
Somehow struggle seemed useless so Megan tried to think it through. This all had to be some kind of bad dream. Len couldn't leave her like this, and the blurry mystery woman was pure imagination. Except she'd just thought about leaving him first and the woman's nude form felt very real againt Megan.
"There, there," the woman finally said. "Don't be 'fraid. I be Diane and I be Left, too." Diane stroked Megan's hair. Intense awareness of their shared contact swept disconcertingly over Megan.
"Please let me go," she pleaded. "I won't run, I promise."
"In good time, little one, take comfort. For now we be close or you cannot hear me words. Here, I show you. Hold you tight to me hands." Diane stepped back until both women were at arm's length. Like rising heat and smoke, Megan could barely see the other woman's body. Fear of being left alone prodded Megan and she hugged Diane close again.
"What are you?" she whispered into the woman's dark hair.
"I be Left, like you. Long, long ago a mon left me for dead, as your mon left you." She nuzzled Megan's cheek. "You would not see me unless you be wantin' what I found then - freedom."
"How?" Sudden hot desire made Megan forget the road beside them, her abandonment, everything else but Diane's body and what she seemed to offer.
"I can show you," Diane answered. "Will you lay 'pon the Earth with me?"
"Yes," breathed Megan. She let the woman lead her off the road's shoulder and pull her down into the grass. Between kisses and caresses Diane stripped Megan, then knelt between her thighs.
Megan closed her eyes and gave herself to sensation - gentle, roving hands; soft lips; questing, insistent tongue. On waves of orgasm she felt herself moving in a strange direction with nothing to hold on to but Diane; it was scary, thrilling, and after a long time, satisfying.
She opened her eyes to see other nude women around them, but Megan could now see them quite clearly. Most bore scars and all looked underfed. Diane rose lithely and joined the surrounding circle; Megan could see her just as well as the rest. Then she noticed the rest of the world had turned more or less blurred. She rubbed her eyes and several of the woman laughed.
"Do not worry," said Diane, holding out a hand to help Megan to her feet. "Your eyes be telling the truth, little one. You be with us. We walk outside the touch or sight of the living. No man or animal can hurt us, nor we them. We were left behind, left for dead, left with no escape; we are the Left. Now nothing in that world can bring harm to you, not even him."
The circle of women parted, allowing her to see Len standing on the shoulder by the Toyota. His blurred form was holding one of her flip-flops and screaming her name, though she could hardly hear him. The women watched Megan with sharp eyes.
"He came back," Megan said in wonder. The other women stirred restlessly.
"But did he come back for you?" asked Diane, "or for his own wants?"
"He came for me," she answered confidently and faced Diane. "Can I go back?"
"Only the dead are in all worlds, little one." The circle closed tighter and some of the women reached out to stroke Megan's skin.
A memory intruded on Megan's mind, the image of Diane hungrily kneeling over the dead, stinking thing in the road. No harm, the woman had said, to animals. What did they eat? Only the dead - or the Left.
Panic came too late to save Megan; the Left dragged her, screaming and struggling, into the surrounding West Virginia woods.
The End
