Face to Face

“This is power” chuckled Freedman quietly to himself. He smiled into the eyes of the tiny baby mouse cupped in his hands. He happened upon the mouse during his last walk outside. Freedman had pretended to tie his shoe when he picked up his little friend. “I think I’ll name you Laika” said Freedman. “I won’t tell anyone about you if you don’t tell anyone about me.” He was still looking at Laika when there was a sudden knock at the door. He quickly stuffed Laika under his bed sheets only moments before the door cracked open. A face peaked around the door, and quickly left. It was the face of his landlord. Freedman didn’t care for the lack of privacy, but he didn’t own the property, so he couldn’t get too upset. The landlord’s name kept slipping his mind, but he knew his face, and that’s all that really matters in the end. The landlord consistently forgot to ask for rent, and Freedman certainly wasn’t going to remind him. Generally the two men would have very short and sweet conversations, but money was never discussed. The landlord cared for Freedman. Such a welcome change. 

Later that night, Laika was getting restless. She kept wiggling around and almost fell off the bed several times, so Freedman placed her in the small cardboard box that held his few personal items. She wouldn’t be able to escape, and the landlord almost never checked there, so she and Freedman would both be safe.

After possibly falling asleep for an unknowable amount of time, Freedman came to his senses. A face stared at him from the foot of his bed. This was not his landlord. The landlord almost never fully entered his room, and the door was to the right of his bed, not at its foot. Plus, this was not the face of a man staring at him. But then again, it wasn’t quite a woman either. Freedman wasn’t even sure if the face was human at all. It almost looked like an imposter trying to pass as human. It was the eyes, they weren’t natural. They were black and uncomfortably small, or maybe uncomfortably large. The skin was overly tight and deathly pale. Yet, its jaws and cheeks were soft and rounded. Even in the blackness of freedman’s room, the face was perfectly visible. Not lit, but clear. It was a small face, or maybe it was simply far away. There was no body to indicate the size of the face. Freedman assumed it was a great distance away, but the foot of his bed was flush against the wall of his room, so the face likely didn’t have a size at all. The face was truly hideous, and it shouldn’t have been there, but Freedman wasn’t frightened. He simply laid there and stared at the face as it stared back in his direction. Not at him, but maybe past him.

Freedman didn’t want to rise the next morning, but his manager reminded him multiple times that he didn’t have much of a choice. He didn’t appreciate his manager dictating every facet of his life, but such is the life of a working man. Everything from when breakfast was eaten to when the bathroom was used was determined by Freedman’s boss. “They’re all the same” thought Freedman. “Every last one of them.”

It was a long day of meetings that were both boring and deeply uncomfortable. Freedman didn’t feel qualified for his position. Too many questions would be asked, and Freedman didn’t feel that his answers were satisfactory. He knew his answers weren’t satisfactory. “What does that mean to you?” All eyes turned and locked on Freedman. The man in the collared shirt sat across the circle and waited for a response. The question was meaningless, and Freedman wasn’t even entirely sure what was asked. “I…I don’t know.” “That’s okay. We can circle back to you if you’d like.” Freedman shook his head while looking down at his socks. “Okay thank you for letting us know” said the man with a pitiful smile. He made a note on his clipboard and moved on in the conversation. “It’s not okay” thought Freedman angrily.

There was no time to relax. Freedman wanted to extend his lunch break, or watch TV, or go outside, but he was too busy with meetings and appointments. He returned to his room at the end of the day in a rage. He kicked his bed and let out something between a grunt and a scream. Something from Freedman’s cardboard box screamed back. “Oh no my sweet Laika!” Freedman quickly checked on the mouse to make sure she wasn’t hurt. Thankfully, she was fine. The loud and sudden noises made by Freedman only startled her. He pulled out a couple of food scraps from dinner and placed them in the box for Laika. His time with her was cut short by a knock at the door. It opened wide, and the landlord entered the room. “Hey there buddy. Is everything okay?” “Yeah I’m okay. I just stubbed my toe” replied Freedman with a nervous smile. “Okay got it, got it. Glad you’re doing okay.” “Any thoughts of harming yourself or others?” “No.” “Hearing voices or seeing visions?” “No.” “Okay, fantastic.” And with that, the landlord disappeared behind the door. The landlord cared. Such a welcome change.

The face returned that night. It was unmistakably the same entity, but it was different somehow. The eyes appeared larger than the night before, and they were locked into Freedman’s eyes. It was not passively looking past him. Instead of having the same sedated and apathetic expression, it was baring its teeth with a slight grin. The teeth looked long and sharp. The prominent muscles in the jaw and chin implied a strong and painful bite. It looked happy, but there was sickness to it. The face was larger and closer to Freedman than the night before, and he could see that it was breathing. Its nostrils were flaring, and Freedman could hear an airy and raspy hum produced from some kind of invisible lunges. Freedman was uncomfortable now, not scared, but he felt naked under the face’s gaze.

Another day of useless meetings left Freedman emotionally worn. He had been encouraged to socialize with his co-workers and peers, but why would he want to do that? Everyone else was either weird, awkward, or possibly unhinged. “I don’t think I belong here anymore” said Freedman to his manager. “Now Freedman, we’ve been over this. Why do you feel that way?” “Look around you!” Snapped Freedman. “I’m surrounded by drooling idiots! Everyone and everything is so dull and pointless.” “I know you’re frustrated, and I feel for you, but I promise you’re here for a reason. Just look at all the progress you’ve made.” “I don’t feel like I’m making any progress. I’m claustrophobic, and I have no privacy. I don’t like it here.” “Well Freedman, let me ask you a couple of questions. Are you having any thoughts of harming yourself or others?” “No” replied Freedman. “Are you having any visions or are you hearing anything that isn’t there?” “No.” “See, that’s progress! You’re doing great.” The manager gave Freedman a pat on the shoulder and left his room. “He’s so full of shit” grumbled Freedman to himself. “He doesn’t know anything about anything. He’s just like all the others.” Freedman could feel frustration turn to anger as his thoughts ran on and on. “This place is so fucking useless. A waste of time, in a waste of space, with nothing but a waste of life. If I had 10 minutes alone with the boss and all the other phonies in this God forsaken place, I would teach them a fucking lesson they wouldn’t forget.” As anger tuned to wrath, Freedman became aware of the incessant squeaking that had been gnawing at his brain. Freedman violently grabbed the cardboard box from the floor and glared inside. Laika was frantically running from wall to wall and screaming even louder than before. Without thinking, Freedman grabbed Laika tightly and threw her to the floor. The fire inside Freedman instantly went out as silence of ears and mind instantly came over him. He looked down at Laika. She wasn’t moving. “Shit shit shit shit” said Freedman as he gently picked Laika up from the floor. After several seconds, she began to stir and turn over. He placed her on the floor, but she walked with a severe limp. Laika’s front left leg wasn’t baring any weight, and it was clear that she was in pain. After hoping for an immediate heal, Freedman finally gave up and lifted Laika. He kissed her on the head and petted her golden brown fur. Laika would sleep in Freedman’s bed that night.

It was the smell that disrupted Freedman’s slumber. It was a bizarre mix of strong cologne and spoiled milk. Then there was the sound. The hum from the previous night was given more depth. There was the high pitched rise and fall of the inhale and exhale, but there was a constant pedal tone droning underneath like a pipe organ. Once Freedman’s eyes opened, everything in his body told him he was in danger. The fear ran through every vein under his skin. The face was practically on top of him, and it was massive. It was roughly the size of Freedman himself. It still appeared to be human, but now it seemed to have the features of some kind of animal. The shape of the eyes were that of a man, but they had slits for pupils. There was a fire behind those eyes. Their intensity burned Freedman’s very being. Now he didn’t only feel naked, he felt the judgement of God stripping away muscle and flesh. The teeth are what truly terrified Freedman. All incisors were human like, but the canines were sharper than before, almost fangs. And on top of everything, great white tusks stretched out far in front of the horrible face. Freedman dared not move an inch as to not puncture his skin on those unnatural ivory spears. The only aspect of the face that could have been seen as beautiful was the impressively long and thick hair. It encircled the face like a lion’s mane, and it glimmered and shined in the darkness of Freedman’s room. The hair of the mane matched the subtle fur on its face. It was a beautiful golden brown. “Oh dear Laika, what have I done?” whimpered Freedman. He looked over, and the mouse wasn’t moving. Not in a restful way, but in the kind of way that couldn’t be reversed. She had died sometime in the night, and Freedman knew the blame was on him. He thought to ask the face for forgiveness, but as he opened his mouth to inhale, as did the face. It was only in this moment that Freedman saw the face’s full wrath and glory. Not human enough for sympathy, too beastly for comfort. Too human for innocence, not animalistic enough for nature. And with that, Freedman was consumed by the face’s gaping mouth. He was devoured quickly, yet painfully, by this demon of wrath. 

Moments later, there was a knock at the door. A face peaked around the door, stared into the room for a second or two, and then slipped away as quickly as it came.