Strange Carcosa

CHARLIE'S DREAMING: DAY 2

The bar was loud. Glasses clinked. Ritzy folks laughed.

My glass swirled with whisky. I put the crystal to my lips, felt the comforting burn down my throat.

"Say, gal," a voice purred next to me. "Could I buy you a drink?"

I turned with a smirk, lashes low.

"I ain't no gal," I smiled. "But I'll indulge."

"Ah, apologies, Mx.—?"

"Charlie." I winked. She looked gorgeous. Twinkling in red sequins and silk. I knew immediately I wanted to undress her.

"What's your name, huh?" I gazed at her.

"Joan," she smiled, her gloved hand trailing over the bar. "Don't you ask me more than that."

I bit my lip, smiling. "Don't need more than that. No saints here, Miss."

I glanced around. Saw plenty of my fellas, looking almost naked without their semis and bloodstains. They were laughing, chattering, mingling.

"You smoke?" I raised a brow at her, already taking one out.

"Sure," she purred. Nipped it between her teeth. I lit it, grinning, and brought my own to life.

"You're a fresh face," I observed, exhaling smoke through my nose. "New to Rembroke?"

"Got me," she smiled, her red-painted lips lush, full, perfect. "From down south. Ain't saying more than that."

"Sorry, sorry," I grinned. Swished my whisky. "Well. You likin' it?"

"Much," she winked. "High life's for me."

"Gorgeous lady like you," I leaned on the bar, tilting my head. "She don't deserve nothin' less."

Joan smirked.

"Whatcha drink, huh?" Her dark eyes twinkled.

—

We walked out, blasted.

Didn't waste any time. My mouth was on hers. We made out, our breath hot; I could smell her cologne, feel the softness of her lips. Then, suddenly, the hardness of teeth. Gums. Something wet, lifeless.

I pulled back and screamed.

Her face was gone. All that was left was a red, Esephian void. I reeled away, falling hard on the ground. The corpse loomed above me, faceless. The last of its teeth fell out, scattering like scared mice.

My palms scraped concrete as I launched myself off the sidewalk, stumbling more than running as I weaved through solid blurs of people. I ran, ran, ran— ran till the street gave way to squishing earth. I tripped on a clump of grass and gasped, tasting dirt.

I spat it out and looked up. My childhood house thrust out of the ground like a blasphemous temple.

"Oh, fuck no," I panted, pushing myself off the ground. "Fuck no, fuck no, fuck—"

I bolted in the opposite direction. The same sight greeted me. Everywhere I turned, it remained static.

"No," I moaned at nothing. "For fuck's sake. No."

I stood there awhile, paralyzed. Heard movement. A familiar stagger. Then I booked it— right around the house, to the shed. I threw myself down on the ground, dragging myself through the muck. It soiled my suit, sucked at my elbows as I trench-crawled forward.

At last I felt safe enough to stop, breathing hard. Smelled of earth, moldy wood, solid things. Things that couldn't hurt me.

"COME OUT!" The nightmare roared. I heard heavy, reeling footsteps. "WHERE T'FUCK'RE YOU?"

My breaths came in panicked huffs. I felt the damp wood above squeeze my back like an old friend, dug my nails into the squelching earth.

"I'LL WAIT," the specter warned. "I'LL WAIT, YOU UNGRATEFUL LITTLE CUNT!"

Hours must have passed. I trembled with cold, breaths shuddering. At last I felt safe enough to creep out—slumped, exhausted, against the back end of the shed.

Once more, the house loomed before me. The decrepit back door was open, swinging in a gustless breeze.

"You're fucking with me," I muttered to no one, pushing off the splintery wood. "Wake up, Charlie, come on."

I forced myself forward. One staggering step after another. Finally, I peered in, gagging at the smell of Walkerman's Red.

I heard snoring, held my breath. Quiet, I crept forward, not even looking at the couch where She had passed out.

"Take me with you," a tiny voice pleaded, and I jumped, swinging around. I saw my kid self, small, hunched, hiding. Their skinny arms hugged their knees. "Vanessa, please."

"You know I don't go by that no more," I muttered, glancing away. "Shh. If you're comin', get up, shut the fuck up. Come on."

I grabbed them, forced them to their feet.

Together we made it out. Starlight broke like a miracle. Little Charlie fell over.

"Hey," I dragged them up again. "If you're gonna be a burden, I'm leavin' you behind."

They nodded, blue eyes wide. Their fear made me sick.

"I'll drop you off at Pops'," I grumbled. "How's that."

"I'm stayin'," they raised their voice.

"You're just gonna weigh me down," I swore, squatting to my knee and glaring at them. "Pops', and that's as far as I go."

They flicked me off with a tiny finger. I rolled my eyes, launching up.

"I hate you," they muttered.

"Feeling's fuckin' mutual," I snapped back. "Now shut the fuck up."

We walked in silence for a time. The trees grew thinner as we kept on the road.

"Pops ain't the same no more," they sighed. "Not since Gramma died."

I thinned my lips.

"He gets mad now."

"Still better'n Ma," I argued, looking ahead.

"Ain't long now," their voice shook. "Really ain't."

I scratched my head hard.

"Hey, kid," I pointed at a tenement. "Your stop. Charlie train, over."

"Come with me." They stared, eyes too intense, too old.

"Why," I rolled mine. "The fuck would I come with you?"

"Pops wants to see you," they squinted at me.

"Hell no. I'm done here," I walked on, flapping my hand in disgust.

The kid flicked me off again.

"...See you again, asshole," they muttered.