A Damsel In Distress

“Yeah, well screw you then! See if I ever come back!”

Even in his drunken stupor it dawned on Carl that yelling at a locked door wasn’t going to relieve the grief his bladder was giving him. He needed to pee and he needed to do it soon. Why the hell wouldn’t that pinhead bartender let him go before he threw him out? What an asshole.

He stumbled down the street looking for a likely spot to do the deed. He came to an alley he couldn’t remember having seen before and groped his way along in the darkness until he found a spot by some garbage cans. Sweet relief. Zipping up, he was feeling his way along the wall when he tripped over something and banged his head on a can. He swore and kicked the can as hard as he could and was about to head back to the street when he heard a faint voice.

“Help. Please help me.”

It sounded like a young girl, but the voice was muffled. What would a child be doing in a grungy alley at two in the morning? He peered into the darkness but could see nothing.

“Who’s there?”

No answer. Maybe he was drunker than he thought. Maybe it was just a cat. He took another step towards the street.

“Please help me. I’m cold. I’m hungry. Please.”

Damn. Where the hell was she? He could barely hear her.

“Where are you?”

“Here. I’m in here. Please, help me.”

The sound was coming from just ahead. He felt his way along the wall and came to a door. He felt for the knob but couldn’t find one. He pushed and the door creaked open. A fetid smell like rotting meat assaulted his nostrils.

“Damn…where are you? It’s pitch black in here.”

“I’m here. Please help.”

“Can you make your way towards my voice?”

“I can’t. My leg hurts really badly. I can’t move it. I’m so cold and hungry. Please.”

“What’s that smell?”

“I don’t know. Can’t you please get me out of here? It hurts so bad.”

Something was creeping him out and it wasn’t just the smell but he couldn’t leave a child in distress behind. He groped his way forward. The smell got worse. He pulled out his handkerchief and put it over his nose.

“Hang on, I’m coming.”

The air seemed to be getting colder the further he moved in the room. Must be a refrigeration chamber or something.

“What are you doing in here little girl? How did this happen?”

“I don’t want to talk about it. He…he brought me here and he…”

She was sobbing uncontrollably. Damn, this was bad. He had to find her and get her to a hospital. He took another step and tripped over something soft.

“What the hell…”

He reached down to pick up the object. Groping around the floor he finally latched onto it and brought it closer to his face to try to make out what it was. He squinted but couldn’t make it out. Then he remembered his lighter. He kicked himself mentally for not thinking of it before.

He fished around in his pocket and brought it out. Firing it up his eyes went wide in horror. He let out a scream and dropped the severed foot to the floor and turned to run. A bony claw grabbed his ankle and he was dragged to the back of the room.

Two hellish red eyes appeared in front of him and the air was sucked out of his lungs as he tried to scream again. A gaping maw dripping saliva proved to be the source of the rotting meat smell. The girl’s voice came out of it once more.

“I’m so glad you came to rescue me. I’m so hungry.”

He closed his eyes as the claw reached out to rip his head off.


One response to “A Damsel In Distress

  1. Monica McLaughlin

    No good deed goes unpunished.

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