Short tale
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We shall breed, Jon

Fleeing birds sang hidden in the black sky.

Whispers invaded Jon’s mind like an ambushing predator in the night like he was the prey.

It was uncharacteristic of him to wake up out of nowhere, he was given sleeping-pills by his doctor, which he took almost religiously before sleeping, every day.

The whispering inside his head became louder and louder, to the point it was almost the sound of voices near him, yet, none of the things those voices said were deductible.

“Garfield…?” Jon looked at Garfield’s bed, empty, knowing him, he was certain something was wrong, he’d never wake up that early in the morning, not Garfield.

He stood up, walking over the cold floor, looking into the lock of his door, he felt like someone was spying on him from a distance.

“My child…” One of the voices in his head said.

Jon was petrified, those sounds inside his head, whatever it was, sounded just like his cat.

He started to go downstairs, it was like different reality, a different house, somewhere he had never been to.

Hanging pictures of claws, bloody claws, walls tainted with tomato sauce and cheese, they smelt like rotting corpses, like a cemetery of lasagna.

“You like it, Jon…?” The voice asked.

“Garfield!” He screamed, his voice was trapped inside the house, echoing like a never-ending cave in the deepest of oceans. Yet, there was no response.

He heard a dog barking in the infinity of the hall, he knew it was Odie instantly.

“I like it, Jon…”

The cries of desperation and pain filled the house with agony, the never-ending cries of help of Odie ended after seconds of starting.

Chewing sounds.

“Why are you doing this Garfield…?!” Jon was sitting on his knees, crying, trying his best to control his breathing.

“Grab my tentacle, Jon.” Black slime spawned from the door leading into the basement, moving limbs that had the appearance of thousands of earthworms moving together grabbed Jon by his arms, taking him into the depth of the basement.

Darkness ensued.

Nothing but darkness. Jon could feel the worm-like tentacles moving against his skin.

A galaxy appeared and disappeared. Stars died, the universe was created and destroyed, everything before his eyes.

“This is me, Jon.” A monster the size of the known universe appeared before him “I will teach you the why, where and what of everything Jon, you just have to listen.”

The tentacles raped Jon’s mouth, letting a lasagna tasting liquid loose inside him.

“Taste it, Jon.” Garfield said, “It’s the flavor of life.”

Garfield started to convulse and scream.

“WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, JON?! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?” He shrieked while his nipples started to squeeze out meatballs “YOU’RE A FOOL, JON. YOU WILL PAY WITH YOUR LIFE.”

Jon didn’t understand what he had done. Motionless he looked into Garfield’s eyes. Inside of them the secrets of life were hidden. Forever.

Hands appeared out of the skin of the universe, decrepit orange hands with long abused fingers. Hands the size of galaxies grabbed Jon by his head, taking him near the river of meatballs flourishing from Garfield’s nipples.

“Eat, my child,” Garfield demanded.

An eternity passed by, Jon had eaten Garfield’s seed, it was inside of him.

“You’re a good child, Jon.” Garfield smile, showing his long sharp teeth “you will be recompensated for your efforts.”

“WHAT THE…?” Jon screamed “oh.” He exclaimed.

Birds sang over the morning sky.

“It was all a dream.” He whispered to himself “I’m such an idiot. Maybe these pills are messing with me.” He looked over Garfield’s bed, where he was sleeping.

It was Monday, he hated Mondays.

“Maybe I should cook some lasagna.” He told himself.

While going downstairs he found a package of eaten pizza.

“Garfield!” He said angrily “did you eat the pre-cooked pizza?!”

“I did, Jon” Garfield responded, “I eat Jon, it’s what I do.”

No birds were singing outside, not anymore.

Something moved inside Jon’s belly.

Suddenly, Jon felt like he needed to eat some lasagna, too.

June 23, 2019, 4:36 p.m. 5 Report Embed Follow story
The End

Meet the author

Simon Pacheco Wolf Escribo en Ingles y Español. Hablo Español, Ingles y Aleman. Vivo en Alemania. Aspirante a ser escritor de oficio. Me gusta escribir poemas sobre mi experiencia con la dictadura en mi pais y otros sentimientos dentro de mi. Mis historias son más que nada de terror, fantasticas, historicas o psicologicas. Sería un honor que me siguieras. English and Spanish writer living in Germany, I like writing horror/psychological stories and poems.

Comment something

Paula Rojas Paula Rojas
Estoy aprendiendo a leer en inglés y tu historia ha sido fantástica.
September 15, 2019, 19:09