Demon's Fly

A walk in the woods takes a horrifying turn for the worst...

It was a sunny day�"the heat as oppressive as a fascist dictator�"stealing every ounce of moisture from Sonia’s pores. The heat had made her lightheaded and drowsy, so she took a sip of cool, clear liquid from her water bottle while absently shooing a fly. Moments from this brief pause, normalcy would cease. And the future would be marred by darkness and nightmares.   It began on the “normal” day in July that was.

            Sonia had been feeling stressed before the walk and (what would seem ironic in the coming minutes) had though this walk might have been restorative to her frayed nerves. She found herself heading into the forest�"leaving her poor thoughts (of death and taxes) at the door. Not just death and taxes, Sonia thought, but of her ailing health, her emotions, and her crumbling relationship with her husband. Yes�"that uncertainty was what she meant to leave behind.

            It may have been about a quarter of a mile into her walk (Walk-de-detox, as she liked to call it) when she spied something peculiar lying in her path. Curiosity often being her downfall, Sonia knelt to see what it could be. After all, she had never seen anyone else walking the paths before and she would like to learn of them even if she had to do so by rummaging through their discarded belongings which were left to rot in the quiet, vacant dust that was the path in the forest.

            She picked up the object gingerly�"not wanting whatever remained of her unseen companion to crumble before her eyes. She was starting to be a detective�"like the people she would call a few moments from now�"with nuances of fear in her voice that would turn outright frantic with little time in between.

            But that was still to be moments from now. For now, she picked up the artifact of her walking compatriot.

            It appeared to be a gauge, an earring she associated with heavy metal music and hipsters. She stared; mesmerized by the black and white stripes, almost zebra-esque aside from the fact that something had reddened the white. She noticed, with a detached scientific nature, that the red residue (of what it was, she’d find out soon enough) had begun to stain her fingers that same crimson shade. She shook away any inkling of fear and pushed on. Perhaps there was something to this lost artifact or perhaps not�"what Sonia needed was to distract herself from her marital struggles and her ailing health so life, for a moment, would be bearable. Only constant walking could help her accomplish that feat.

            Perhaps two-hundred yards from where she saw the gauge with the red liquid (ooze) dripping from it, she saw a light, a glint upon the ground. In sleuth mode, Sonia presumed it was some sort of metal object. At a quick pace, she moved towards the light�"subconsciously shooing flies (deer flies, more precisely) away from her face. She thought nothing of it, nothing of this onslaught, despite her morning dousing ritual (bug-spray-r-us, as she’d referred to the ritual sarcastically to her husband) to avoid such an incident.

            On the ground lied the most up-to-date music listening technology�"an I-phone 5. It was the back panel of the thing that had glistened. She stared at the bite out of the Apple emblem and a chill ran down her spine. For a moment she thought of how horrible it would be to be an apple (to get your flesh ripped out by the dangerous maw of a monster). She knew that, left for that apple would have been entirely devoured�"with nothing but a core remaining. Surprised by that unusual amount of creativity, she swallowed hard. She reached to pick up the machine, hesitated, and then fulfilled this action. She flipped it over and gasped. The shattered screen was also covered in that red liquid (ooze) that had been on the gauge. What was going on? She dropped the I-phone 5 and wiped the liquid (ooze) onto her jogging shorts.

            Sonia was about to continue solving this mystery�"it was a better alternative than turning back on her walk-de-detox early. Before she could be off, a plump yet aerodynamic deer fly landed on her arm. She scowled and slapped it mercilessly. And that, my friends, is how she solved the mystery of the red liquid (ooze). The deer fly was filled with it�"guts, abdomen, and broken wings floated in the pool of red liquid (blood) on her arm. She shuttered, wiping it off with the back of her hand. “Okay, blood doesn’t mean anything. Maybe he had an infection and ditched the earring and the gauged hole started bleeding.” She muttered. But what of the I-phone? As for that, Sonia could not fathom the answer.

            A stillness (a calm before the storm, if you will) had occurred�"procured during what would be her short “detective” career.  The air hanged stagnantly and she could taste her own sweat dripping from her skin�"that acrid taste of fear was in it. Yet aside from the stillness and the ache in her chest from the humidity, something pushed Sonia forward, perchance a sense of adventure or possibly fate if you believe in such things. Despite her fear, she wanted to know where the owner of the sticky red liquid (that blood) was.

            As she continued down the beaten path, which became more shaded and grassy as it lead into the interior of the forest, at least half a dozen deer flies began trailing her. Yes�"trailing, that’s a good word; for they did not swarm her face or seek the refreshment of her blood at that moment. Secretly�"knowing certain life to be better than instant gratification, they fluttered silently behind her. They’d have their fill soon enough.

            She continued to push through thick brush and undergrowth, sweat spurting from her pores. Here her footprints left important imprints (clues) and the ground was moist with unabsorbed dew. The dew felt refreshing (another ironic nuance of the coming moments�"that calm relief).

            Finally, she came to a small circular clearing, grass parched due to the sun’s undying thirst. There was a bundle of clothing lying on the ground…and Sonia could smell a horrific odor in the air that was emitted from the pile. She could think of no other such odor she had encountered in her life�"it heralded only death. Yet, it was too late to turn back now. Sonia’s curiosity had begun to burn at her soul. She neglected to notice the deer flies (God knows how many) which were swarming around the clearing.

            Sonia crouched down beside the pile of clothing. She sifted through the jogging pants and wife beater and cried out in fright�"a deep terror beyond what she had ever experienced. Her stomach knotted and her hands trembled uncontrollably.  It was not only because the clothing had become sullied, sticky with blood, but because below the pile lay bones and flesh. Worst of it all, Sonia thought, mind oddly clear, is how it was all…still connected.

            And yes, it all was connected. Within a pool of crimson (that liquid that ooze Sonia stumbled onto earlier) lay an obviously male skeleton, flesh nearly gone from the once live man. Bits and flecks of tendons, veins, and cartilage still clung to the corpse. Optical nerves sprung from the eye sockets and the jaw was wide open in a horror struck scream. The man’s frightened facilities now poisoned the air (“smelled of piss and s**t” was the primitive phrase that Sonia’s husband would have used to described the situation). Sonia nearly gagged.

            Suddenly, detachment left Sonia as she stared at (gawked at with ambivalence) the contorted figure’s legs and arms that must have flailed and the dark glare of his non-eyes. The sunlight shone above that screaming jaw and casted shadows in the forest. She rapidly pulled her cell phone out of the interior of her bra�"the only location it would stay in place on her long walks. She would call the police…homicide detectives…They would figure this out. It had to be a homicide, Sonia reasoned.

            She hit 9-1-1 with an unwonted celerity, poising the phone on her ear. The dial tone sounded once and the nasty winged beings which had been stalking her since the moment she had touched the dead man’s gauge, the dead man’s blood were on the move. They had sniffed her out the entire way to the clearing. It was a clever trap, if one could give deer flies credit for such intelligence.

            The second dial tone, and in a whisper of unheard panic, “Hurry, pick up!” Sonia was steadily becoming more unsettled and for good reason. Three deer flies precariously perched on her head, attained a foot hold, and nestled close to her clean, juicy scalp. The third dial tone came and went, thus condemning her fate. The, deer flies bit down drew blood with an unnaturally sharp and searing pain.

            “Ow!”

            A click was heard on the other end of the phone. “Deerwood County Police Department, Officer Dodge speaking. What is the nature of your emergency?” Got to love when small towns redirect 9-1-1 to the local, and Sonia thought, incompetent police force. Officer Dodge was serious and gruff, yet a frightful concern crept into his voice at her cry of pain.         

            Sonia looked down, clearing her thoughts, feeling her head for bugs, but finding none. She assumed that after getting what they wanted (that red liquid, the bloody ooze), they had fled. If only she had known…but bah! What good would it have done for her? You can’t turn back when you are already condemned.

            “Hello, my name is Sonia Mendel, and I…I think I’ve stumbled upon something.”

            “Well, upon what?” Dissatisfaction from his end, Officer Dodge did not like hesitance. He joined the police force in a futile attempt to escape it.
            “A corpse…or what’s left of one…”

            “Where?” He snapped, mind flashing to the missing man, the one Sonia had heard of in the news a week or so ago.

            “River Park…the nature trail.” It was then she had become disturbed by a bulbous, injured deer fly that lied on the ground. She looked up and screamed.

            “Ma’am?” he asked, with unprofessional concern creeping into his voice.

            “Oh dear God.” Sonia murmured. In front of her, blotting out the sun and casting her in shadow was a swarm of mutated deer flies.

            Unlike those that had infiltrated her skull (yes, her skull, not her scalp) these were giant. Sonia thought deformed cats with wings strapped on them. There maws dripped with blood and eyes coldly reflected Sonia’s own horrified face, drenching her world in a horrid yellow and brown. They all stared at her as prey with those ravenous eyes. Sonia’s frozen glare was fixated on the monstrosity of them. Nearly a hundred in all, she estimated. She stared at their fat, engorged bodies that seemed nearly at a bursting point. She knew they would be filled with blood, human blood�"the blood of her walking compatriot. Their wings fluttered, flinging blood and flesh into the air. Sonia thought their wing span to be about two feet…the size of a toddler… She trusted this estimation…she had always been good at her measurements. But everything drew her eyes back into that maw; the maw that reeked of decomposition and death; the mouth of fangs, a vampire in nature.

            “Except these are the true vampires…the others don’t exist. This is life.” Officer Dodge heard none of this. Sonia suddenly wished for a gun. Not to fight with, but to die with. She didn’t think she could endure what the dead man had, what her companion had.

            All thoughts and observations only lasted an instant, though. What the officer had heard was  Sonia’s first utterance, the rise of an angry buzz (could a “buzz” be angry, he wondered), and Sonia’s famous last words. “Prove yourself merciful. Oh, God help us!” He heard a thud as the phone dropped to the ground and that got awful buzzing rose even louder. Yet the phone remained on and Officer Dodge heard Sonia’s screams of agony. Dodge jumped into action, abandoning his desk and grabbing his badge. He gripped his walkie and blared out a message. “I’m requesting back-up. The remains of a…” he paused, reconsidering, “…the remains of two persons on a nature path of River Park.”

            “We’re on it, Officer.”

           

But Sonia’s story was not quite finished. As she dropped her phone, the sole link she had to civilization, they bore down on her. The carnivorous cat-like deer flies tore her flesh away and her blood sullied that of her walking companion. You see, she had HIV, a strain nearing full blown AIDS. The deer flies, for good or ill, however, were indifferent to this and feasted, causing Sonia so much agony in her dying moments. They continued, leaving little but minute amounts of tendons, veins, and cartilage, as Sonia still writhed in pain, feeling cold now, these monsters blocking the sun’s warmth. They only stopped when the three small deer flies (still mutated, in their own way) burst out through Sonia’s brains. Two flew though her yet uneaten eyes while the other flew through her skull, through her forehead. Sonia’s body fell limp, as did the bodies of the three small deer flies. Dead on the ground they’d lay. Squish, splat, Squish.