My heart feels like it's going to burst in my chest as I awaken, drenched in a thick, cold sweat, covered from the neck down in a white bedsheet. The room is dark and it takes a minute for my eyes to adjust to the dim light.
I see that I'm in the old bedroom of my grandparents' house that I used to stay in as a kid. Relief washes over me; this was a safe haven from my parents and various responsibilities every summer for ten years.
Suddenly, I sense a presence to my left and turn my head to see a shadowy figure seated in a rocking chair by the bed. Cold fear washes over me and I struggle to sit up but I'm too weak to accomplish more than a brief convulsion.
I'm unable to breathe as I stare into the impenetrable, black figure. It appears as an absence of all light, flat as if it's been painted onto the backrest of the chair.
A small creak sounds as the chair and the shadow rock forward once. I let out a blood-curdling scream.
"Now, calm down, Jimmy! It's just me."
My fear dissipates instantly. "Jesus Christ, Grandpa. Is that you?"
The figure in the chair leans toward me, into the light, and the features of my grandfather develop from the darkness like a polaroid photo. He has that disappointed look on his face that I know all too well: mouth set in a hard line, lowered brows, and pained confusion in his eyes.
"Shame on you, Jimmy. Taking the Lord's name in vain. That's the kind of behavior that got you in this place."
"This place?" my voice trails off. I glance around the room before taking a long, hard look at my grandfather who has been dead for twelve years. The realization hits me like a slap in the face. I feel my eyes widen and my jaw drop.
"Grandpa, am I dead?" I squeak, feeling like a little boy again, afraid of the monsters under the bed.
Grandpa leans back and begins to rock in the chair. "As a doornail, my boy."
Bewildered, I look at the ceiling. My memories are cloudy, slipping through my mental fingers as I try to grasp onto my last moments alive. Then one image becomes clear.
"The goose!" I gasp. Sadness starts to set in — I had weekend plans to finally see Paul Blart: Mall Cop — but then I remember where I am and who I'm with. Spending the afterlife with the greatest man I’ve ever known sounds perfect.
I heave a sigh of relief. "Well, it's not so bad if I'm here with you, Gramps. Now we can hang out in the clouds all day. Is there fishin' in Heaven?"
Grandpa chuckles his famous chuckle, the one he saves for the really funny stuff.
"No, no, my boy" —he angles his body into the light and grins, bright white dentures flashing in the gloom, their edges obscenely square and perfect— "No fishing for you ever again."
Pure delight glimmers across the dull gray orbs in his face, his bulbous nose made sharp by the crashing of light against dark.
"You're in Hell," he rasps. His voice is hungry, edged with the rattling of mucus.
"What?" Tremors take over my body. The thick, cold sweat is back. "But why am I here, in your house?" I gasp again, "Are you in Hell, too? Where's Grandma?"
Panic and despair fight for their places at the forefront of my emotions. I try to move the bedsheet from my body, but it is completely unmoving, like fabric carved out of marble, an illusion of softness.
"Calm down, I said!" Grandpa sounds annoyed as he settles back into the chair, returning to his shadowy form. "Your Grandma is up in Heaven, making her famous seven-layer dip. I'll be joining her again as soon as I'm done here."
Tears fill my eyes at the thought of being left in Hell alone. "Wha—Why am I here, Grandpa?"
Grandpa's shape doesn't move as he speaks. "The bugs."
My mind goes blank. I wonder if this is a prank. "The—The bugs?"
"Yes, Jimmy. Do you remember when you were five and you stomped on that ladybug, just for fun?"
A sob forms in my chest and I give over to the painful heaves as it works its way out. This can't be real, I think to myself.
"Yes," I whimper.
His voice is harsher now, wavering a bit in his anger, "Remember I told you that all of God's creations, no matter how small or bothersome, are special?"
All I can do is weep and choke on my saliva.
"Well, Jim, I meant it," he shouts, "And so did God." He huffs, trying to catch his breath. After a moment of composing himself he begins again, "Yes, my boy, you lived an alright life — not the most impressive, but alright. You'd be upstairs with us enjoying that seven-layer dip if you hadn't needlessly killed so many of God's creatures. The ants, the spiders, the fruit flies — all blessed little souls that you wiped off the face of the Earth without a second thought." He spits the last words out at me in disgust.
My grandfather pauses to let me collect myself. The chair creaks, the wood rhythmically complaining under his weight, and I splutter and wail in time. Snot and tears run down the sides of my face, pooling next to my head.
Once exhaustion sets in, and it seems I have no more tears, I try to see the bright side. "Okay, so this is Hell. Still not too bad" —I sniffle— "I can lay here forever I suppose," my voice trails off into a shrill whine as the tears resurface.
Grandpa's voice is grave and it strikes my heart with an icy fist. "You won't get off that easily, I'm afraid," he replies.
My eyes dart over to the obscured mass seated in the chair. "What do you mean?"
"Ah, well," he begins, "The Big Guy and your Grandma thought it best that you spend eternity learning to respect the miracle of life as your punishment."
"G—Grandma?"
"I've had to learn some new words for this, but I think I've got them down."
My heart races.
"Viviparity — did that. Those larvae came out wigglin', they did!" He chuckles, that chuckle.
My stomach lurches.
"The one where they crawled around inside you was" —he shudders— "'interesting' I guess is a good word for it."
I don't remember any of this. How long have I been here, I wonder. I begin to wheeze as I breathe heavier and faster, the edges of my vision going black.
His face looms out of the darkness as he gets close enough for me to feel his sour breath on my skin. He smiles and licks his lips with a low moan.
"Never thought you'd get to be a daddy to so many lil' rugrats, eh?" He laughs and coats my cheek with droplets of spittle.
I taste bile in my mouth.
"Yeah, I tell you that joke every time you wake up. You never laugh," he says as he waves his hand at me dismissively. He recedes into the gloom and the ominous creaking returns. "This time, you'll have something special to help you bring the Lord's precious beings into this world."
Out of the corner of my eye, I see the white sheet, now pliable, lift up over my groin. I feel a pressure there and an immediate shame at my arousal, until the covers continue to rise impossibly high, even for my best performances.
Something long and thick slides out from under the sheet — a stiff, pale yellow, gleaming rod with three razor-sharp prongs at the end. A sheen of small hairs along the length of the shaft is visible as it twitches and bends slightly.
Horrified, I try to escape, willing my legs to move, to get me away from whatever just grew out of my crotch.
"G—G—G." I can't form any words in my shock. Grandpa laughs, a low rumble, with a hint of remorse.
"Your Grandma taught me the word for that."
A sickening weight builds in my lower abdomen and moves downward toward my thighs. I can see a bulge traveling under the white sheet, toward the prongs at the end.
"The bugs, Jimmy," he sighs, "You killed so many, even after I warned you." The chair creaks louder as he rocks faster. Emerging from under the covers, the bulge glides toward the end of the rod, displacing the surrounding tissue, until the tip of the round object protrudes from between the three prongs, glistening and quaking gelatinously.
"It's the darndest thing, the way the Lord works. Pure magic, giving you this opportunity. Your Grandma had me practice this one — great word."
I scream. I scream every time, forever.
His dentures clack together and his lips smack as he enunciates: "Ovipositor."
Haha this is wild as usual. Definitely giving me bug guilt about my younger crueler days. Trying to make up for it now though!
The seven layer dip made me laugh out loud. I'm so impressed with how you handled the tension, gradual escalation, and horror elements here. SO unnerving and grotesque. Loved it! I might have to submit this for inclusion in adult sunday school classes.