The Darkness That Consumes

Warning, sensitive topics: physical violence and mental health issues

Emily tripped over the threshold into her home. The emotions weighed so heavy, she couldn’t lift her feet off the ground to walk. Instead, she shuffled along. A large coatrack stood in the entryway and she threw her jacket at it. It missed and landed on the floor. Normally, this would bother her, but not tonight. Numbness took hold as she drifted toward the back of the house. But as she crossed a small bedroom, her body stopped. Her knees buckled and she grabbed the doorframe. Inside bared the contents of her broken soul. A dream shattered; one that she would never see the light again.

She shut the door, removing the visual reminders from sight. If only there was a door she could shut on her heart. The heartache remained, and she had no idea how it could ever go away.

After such a long and bleak day, food was the last thing on her mind. So, Emily trudged into her room. She kicked off her shoes and threw herself onto the meticulously made bed. A plush blanket covered in pumpkins and sunflowers laid perfectly across the bottom edge. Her foot pawed at it, pulling it up far enough for her hand to reach and she started to cover herself. Then she noticed a crinkly object under her fingers. She dragged the object off the blanket and rubbed the puffy crinkles with her thumb. The room was dark but she knew what it was. A tiny satin-covered headband with a puffy pumpkin stitched on. Pain radiated from her chest, making it hard to breath. She pressed the headband against her heart and cried herself to sleep.

:: Clickety-clickety ::

Emily stirred. She found her phone still in her back pocket. Two A.M. What made that noise?

:: Clickety-clickety ::

She trembled. And waited.

:: Clickety-clickety-clickety-clickety ::

The noise wasn’t going away. She had to find out what it was.

Emily slithered out of bed and crawled to her closet. She cracked open the door and reached inside. Rough wood pressed against her palm and she grabbed hold. If her mother had taught her anything, it was that a single woman should always own a baseball bat.

Silently rising to her feet, Emily slid across the hardwood floor in her socks. She glided through the hallway.

:: Clickety-clickety::

The sound was coming from the next room.

Emily tried to steady herself, taking a deep breath. “Who… who’s there?”

Silence

“You better leave. I have a weapon.”

:: Clickety-clickety ::

She sucked air deep into her lungs and whipped through the doorway.

A creature unlike anything she’d ever seen before stood in the middle of the living room. It was two feet tall and covered in thick fur. The creature had no real shape, reminding Emily of a furry version of a Mr. Potato Head. Its arms and legs protruded out just like the toy. And the feet were oversized. Whatever this thing was, it would be comical, if it weren’t for the sharp fangs hanging out its mouth. And the three large talon-like claws jutting out of each foot. They tapped against the ground.

:: Clickety-clickety ::

“AHHHHHHHH!!!!!”

“SKRRRRRIIIIIIIII!!”

It let out continuous shrieks. But instead of attacking, it fell backward, then flipped around and bound into the kitchen. There was a loud bang. Emily reluctantly followed. The fridge door hung open; the creature digging through its contents.

Emily blinked over and over, not sure what to make of the scene. “You just want food?”

She reached above the creature and pulled out some leftovers. After opening the containers, she set them on the floor in front of the furry being.

“Mmmmmmmmmmmm,” it hummed, looking at the containers. Then it dove in with such energy that more food scattered across the room than into its mouth.

It looked up and smacked its lips.

“Well, now what?”

It bound toward the living room. Emily followed behind, still holding the bat. The creature jumped up on the couch, twisting its body into a rich burgundy blanket.

Emily tentatively sat on the couch, pushing herself as close to the edge as possible. She stared at the creature for some time. It hunkered into the blanket, looking quite cozy. Then, at some point, it reached for the tv remote. It figured out how to turn the tv on, then started pressing random buttons, changing the channels and making the volume go crazy.

Letting out a long sigh, Emily laid the bat on the floor.

“I guess if you’re going to hang out a while, I might as well give you a name. How about George?”

The creature looked over at Emily with its beady eyes. Its face failed to create an expression.

Emily raised her eyebrows and popped her lips. “Welp, George it is.”

The pair spent the next few days together without Emily leaving even once. She’d already had a leave of absence put in at her job, and there were loads of casseroles in the freezer. Why bother facing the outside world? Emily now had George. And he was turning into more than a full-time job.

George spent his time spinning around the house, digging through all the cabinets and drawers, and throwing himself onto every piece of furniture Emily had.

She didn’t seem to mind. Emily followed George around, cleaning up his messes and spending every moment trying to entertain him. The chaos he created felt refreshing. A vast departure from her former ordered life.

At least it did at first.

It didn’t take long for the constant mess and movement to become wearisome.

One day, George destroyed the crocheted owl that had been tucked away in Emily’s cedar chest for safe keeping. It was the last thing Emily’s grandmother had made Emily before she passed. George was plopped on what Emily could only surmise was his butt in the middle of her bedroom floor. Surrounding him was white stuffing and shreds of yarn. The only thing left of the owl was a single ear which hung from George’s mouth.

The cocoon of emotions that Emily had stitched up inside ripped open. “George! That was from my grandma! You can’t just destroy whatever you like. Not everything is yours!”

The ear dropped from George’s mouth. He stood up, and as he did so, his body began to grow. The creature reached a height above the ceiling so that it had to lean down towards Emily. Its talons thickened and stretched forward, then dropped into the floor, digging chunks out of the hardwood.

Emily’s eyes bulged. She shrunk down and started backing out of the room.

“George, what’s happening?”

The creature was right on top of her in a single step. It grabbed her like she was the crocheted owl and slammed her into a wall.

Pain ricocheted down her back. Emily’s heart raced and she gulped at the air. She looked up at the mountain of fur, praying she would survive.

“George, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. It’s okay you played with the owl. You’re welcome to play with anything. Everything here is yours. Okay?”

Its mouth drew close to Emily’s face. Hot breath drenched her skin. She closed her eyes.

With the last of her breath, Emily whispered, “You’re all I have George. I will never get angry at you again. I promise. I promise.”

Just as she felt her consciousness slip away, the creature released her. She dropped to the ground. Sucking in deeply, Emily lifted her head to see the monstrous creature shrink back down to its normal size. George bopped over to where the piece of ear had fallen and resumed chewing on it.

Emily watched in disbelief. She wanted to run but every part of her shook uncontrollably. All she could do was stare at George. There was more to this creature than she had realized.

Once her legs finally worked, she hobbled up. A searing fire ran through her back, but she swallowed any reaction to the pain.

“Hey, George? I’m going to go make us a snack. Sound good?”

All that came was that same expressionless stare.

Emily walked silently to the kitchen, then she collapsed in the floor. Her hands cupped her face as she let out sobs and rocked back and forth. Then she shook off her emotions and stood up.

And went back to taking care of George.

Late that night, she took George out for his first drive. It was difficult to focus on the road with the car bouncing all over the place. George couldn’t sit still for even a moment. Fingers touched the top of Emily’s head and she stiffened. They ran through her hair. This was something George had done several times before. And she had enjoyed it. But it was different now.

The car stopped next to a bridge. The moonlight dropped onto the river, producing beautiful shimmers. Emily leaned against the railing, pointing out the sparkles to George.

“George, want me to pick you up so you can see over the railing?”

He just looked up.

“Here we go,” and she lifted him up. She placed his feet on top of the railing, holding his sides. Her chested started to hurt as George said, “oooooooooo.”

“Just look at the river, George. Just look at the river.”

Emily watched her hands as though they were no longer a part of her. They pushed forward and released, and the top of George’s potato shape went flying out and then down. The little body flipped in the air several times before landing in the dark water.

He never surfaced and she strained her eyes for several minutes to make sure. A sick mixture or horror and relief churned in Emily’s stomach and she vomited before making it back to the car.

Emily tip-toed into her home. She checked every room, except for the one small bedroom. There was no sign of George.

Her shoulders relaxed as a long, calm exhale escaped her lungs.

She cleaned up the remaining messes George had left behind. At least the ones she could. Emily’s chest tensed up as she stared at the chunks missing in her bedroom floor. Then she crawled into bed and fell into a deep sleep.

She woke the next morning feeling more alive than she had in weeks.

Hot water sprayed against her skin in a quiet shower. A clean, smooth robe felt like butter against her skin. Everything was going to be okay.

:: Clickety-clickety ::

Blood drained from Emily’s face. Her lower body lost sensation and she nearly fell to the floor. She wobbled out of the bathroom to find George standing in her bedroom.

“There you are George. I was worried I’d lost you forever.”

The creature grew to a massive size again. Its beady eyes changed from dark to fiery red.

Emily backed into the bathroom, shutting the door and locking it, “George, I didn’t mean to let you go. I’m sorry!” She crouched down against a wall, hugging her bare legs.

The doorknob rattled. Then a big bang shook the door.

“Please don’t hurt me.”

One of the creature’s arms blasted through the door. It wrapped the splintered wood around its fingers and yanked the whole door off the frame. Nails dug into Emily’s skin and she screamed.

“Stop! Please George, I’m begging you. I’m sorry. I won’t ever let you go. I promise. Please, please, stop hurting me,” Emily begged and cried.

The creature howled and slashed some more.

“What if I bring you new toys to play with? Or another tv? I can buy a bigger one!”

The red left the creatures eyes and it shrunk down to its normal size. George started bopping all over the bathroom and panting like a dog.

“Yay, a new tv!” Emily spoke with fake enthusiasm. Inside, she wanted to die. But she couldn’t let George know that. So, she pulled out her phone and ordered a tv on amazon. George crawled up into her lap to watch her make the purchase.

Over the next few days, George started reacting to more missteps. Emily ran out of food and had to make a grocery store trip. She was greeted with a black eye upon her return. So, she started using online grocery delivery services. A friend knocked on the door and George instantly grew in size. Emily refused to answer, begging her friend to go away. When the friend agreed without coming inside, Emily escaped any harm. But then she tried to move the tv remote and was left with bite marks on her leg.

When her LOA ended, she called her job and quit. She knew she could not face what George would do if she left him daily. She didn’t know what she’d do for money, but she’d just have to figure it out. All she knew was she had to stay home at all times. And do exactly what George wanted.

Then, one grave day, George walked her to the closed door of the small bedroom. It was never locked, and even if it had been, after tearing off her bathroom door, she knew he could have gone in whenever he wanted. But he never had.

His involvement of her made this inevitable moment so much worse. It’s like he wanted permission to destroy the last part of her. Why wouldn’t he just go and take it for himself? He had done so throughout the rest of the house. But no. This was different. He needed Emily to give herself up to him, to know that he not only owned her stuff, he owned her.

"George, could we please leave this room alone,” she whispered.

George started to grow.

"It's okay, don't worry. We can go in. It's fine.”

He shrunk back.

As tears silently rolled down her cheeks, Emily opened the door. Inside a crib, dresser and rocking chair were placed methodically around the room. They waited to fulfill roles they never would. Just like Emily.

George leapt into the crib. He jumped and jumped until the bottom of the bed crashed to the floor. Then he threw himself into the rocking chair, knocking it into the wall. He zoomed around the room like a tornado on speed until everything laid scattered across the floor in pieces.

A strange sensation crept into Emily’s bones. More than a feeling of dread, it was like a sense of eternal doom. She stared at the broken, discarded remnants of her one real dream in life. And a wave of horror crashed into her body, swirling through every vein and organ until it saturated her brain. Her electrical impulses shocked by the devastating realization that not only had she lost that dream, but the life she’d had before was also gone.

She now had George. And George had her. And there was nothing she could do to ever change that.

While her soul died on the inside, Emily kept a neutral expression plastered on her face.

Slowly, she walked to the living room and slumped onto the couch. George followed her, springing sideways off the walls and hanging from the ceiling fan, breaking a blade off. Emily made no attempt to clean up the mess.

He curled into a blanket on the couch next to her, chewing on its fringe. She didn't respond. He grabbed her arms to try to get her to hold him, but they fell, lifeless. So, he bounced off to the kitchen. Crashing sounds followed.

It didn’t matter. He was going to do whatever he would do. Nothing mattered anymore. Because while Emily was still there, she was gone.