I tapped my stomach waiting for a response.



Why?


That’s all I wanted to know. It was a simple question, nothing difficult or complex about it. I wasn’t asking for a solution to a quadratic equation.


Why me?


I looked down at the small, but noticeable bulge in my stomach waiting for a response.


Nothing. Nada.


The baby fucked with me. I knew it. When I slept it would pound and kick the tender walls of my belly, but when I was awake with bloodshot eyes, it slept peacefully.


I had to get rid of it. It would be for the good of humankind.

*   *   *

I asked around for a cheap doctor, someone who could get rid of the thing for a few greasy bills, but it wasn’t that easy. There was paperwork to be signed and tests run.


It was all a waste of time if you asked me.


And to make things worse, I couldn’t afford to have the operation. I was your run-of-the-mill cashier at the grocery store for god’s sake.


I eyed the hanger in my closet a few times and thought about drinking some whiskey to dull the pain, but I wasn’t that desperate.


Someone else had to do it. I didn’t need to dirty my own hands.


So I scoured the internet, the big World Wide Web, for someone nearby. Someone who could cut this thing out of me and not blink an eye.


After a few days and thousands of useless webpages, I found that special somebody, Doctor Valis, and he lived only ten miles away.


I knocked on his door and stared at the chipped paint and grungy welcome mat till he answered.


Doctor Valis waddled in, a whale of a man. His once white lab coat was stretched beyond belief, straining against his gut. His beady black eyes were barely hidden behind some designer glasses. He looked me over from head to toe and nodded.


“Come inside.”


His house was surprisingly neat; however, it stunk of bacon and fried food.


I felt a bit of pain in my stomach and cursed the thing growing inside me.


Doctor Valis led me to a room with a yellow adjustable chair. Wax paper wasn’t enough to cover its ugly color.


“Have a seat, ma'am.”


I sat down and took a deep breath.


“Relax, this won’t be that painful. I promise you you’re in good hands.”


“I’m not worried about the pain. It’s just… I’ve never done this type of thing before.”


“Once I give you some anesthesia, it’ll be over in a snap.”


He snapped his stubby fingers and flashed a smile, revealing his yellow teeth.


I couldn’t help but to shiver.


“Hold on a minute, I’ll be right back.”


I stared at the sterile walls till I saw small dots. I turned my attention to the jars stacked on the shelf. I wasn’t sure how I could’ve missed them. There was something about them. Something that caught my eye.


I got up, looked behind me, and approached the jars. I picked one up and watched the murky yellow liquid swirl around. A small grey ball sat inside. I bought the jar closer to my eyes and gasped a little too loudly for my own comfort.


"Oh my god," I muttered, "an elephant fetus."


I quickly put it back and stepped backwards, bumping into Doctor Valis.


“Oh you noticed my collection. It’s quite the sight isn’t it?”


“The pachyderm is one of my favorite animals. There’s a quiet magnificence about elephants that goes unnoticed by the masses. Wouldn’t you agree?”


I nodded and eyed the doorway. I looked down at my stomach and remembered why I was here. I had to go through with it. I couldn’t let a few baby elephants creep me out.


I sat back down in the chair.


Doctor Valis pulled out a syringe and shot out some liquid.


“Like said before just relax. This will be over before you know it.”


I watched him stick the needle into my arm and felt the liquid course through my thin veins. My eyelids grew heavy like stones. Before I knew it everything turned black.

*   *   *

I woke up and yawned. I stared at the white walls and something felt off. There was something missing.  An absence.


Doctor Valis had his back turned to me. He started humming a Christmas tune. I couldn’t remember which one.


“D-Doctor Valis?”


“Yes.” He turned around, cradling a jar inside his hand. Blood splotches stained his lab coat in sickening swirls.


“What is that?”


“It’s part of you. The part of you you didn’t want.”


I grabbed the jar and stared inside. A fat pale thing sloshed around. Then it opened its eyes.


And I screamed.

"Die, Baby, Die!"

Copyright: © 2011 Grant Wamack

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Grant Wamack writes weird fiction and sails the seven seas. You can reach him here. http://grantwamack.wordpress.com/

1.

Mr. Sollis woke up wiping the grit from his eyes. He looked down at the expansive map of his hands and sighed, feeling his old age weigh down heavily upon his broad shoulders.

Nancy always told him he’d live forever. He was practically immortal, iron man in the flesh. But look at me now, he thought with frightening clarity, I’m nothing more than an hourglass that’s beginning to crack. Just look at all the sand spilling out of me...

Depressed and tired of self pity, Mr. Sollis turned on the TV just to let his mind drift in a pool of nothingness. He didn’t want to think about anything, let alone his own existence. He simply wanted to be and nothing more.

2.

Black static.

A cascade of virtual insects crawling all over the screen.

An electric scream rattled the bones of the old man slumped in the chair.

He is oblivious to the sounds, the subtle cries emanating from the raging TV screen.

3.

Mr. Sollis woke up startled by the incredibly loud static. The screen was a chaotic mix of black and white dots converging and splitting.

In the chaos, images began to take shape and form. With time, the shapes became clearer. The black and white coalesced in the form of a curvy woman. Almost a silhouette, yet more defined, more lively.

He felt an old, familiar stirring. However, this unwelcome feeling disturbed him greatly.

Mr. Sollis frantically searched for the greasy remote control. He picked it up and pressed the off button, but his hand slipped off at the last moment. With a sense of urgency, he poked the button again and again till the blasted static shut off shrouding the room in silence.

He stared at his reflection in the black screen. Drops of sweat rolled down his forehead. This was getting to be too much, he thought. So he headed in the kitchen and popped a few pills. Who knows what purpose they served? His eyesight was too poor to read the labels. All he knew was that they would take the pain away and that was all he needed.

4.

Black static reigned over the house creeping in and out of every floorboard, caressing every surface, crackling into the master bedroom.

The old man on the bed, snored loudly in his slumber shifting his position every few minutes to get more comfortable.

She touched the gray tufts on his liver spotted head, remembering the old days. The days when she was more than this.

She sighed, leaking static all over the carpet. The room surged with energy and darkened with depression.

The man’s forehead wrinkled. She wondered what he felt right now, the things he saw. The pain he felt inside this world and others. It was so easy to relate.

She caressed his forehead, thinking good thoughts, hoping his dreams would improve and blossom into black petals in the night.

Then a thought occurred and she made that thought become reality as she gently embraced her old lover. The room darkened and faded to black leaving behind the faint scent of lilies.

"Black Static, How Lovely the Sound"
Copyright: © 2010 Grant Wamack
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Grant Wamack writes weird fiction and has been published in Nemonymous 8, Polluto #2, and 365 Tomorrows.