Hellian

There is a vast expanse of desert wasteland through which runs a lonely stretch of highway. The burning hot asphalt delivers those who travel upon it to a place of unfathomable horror. It was on this infernal black top a brown station wagon cruised beneath the hellish rays of the high noon sun. A family of three were traversing the baron landscape. Rodney, the patriarch was behind the wheel of the worse for wear wagon. Clutched in his meaty hand was a beer. Sweat beaded on his forehead and he wiped it away with his wrist. The heat was oppressive and suffocating. Rolling down the windows brought precious little relief. It’s fucking hot Rodney, his wife Beth complained over the rushing wind. Rodney rolled his eyes asking, do you ever stop bitching? A look of disgust warped Beths face as if she stepped in a freshly coiled pile of dog shit. Rodney had himself a final swig of his Coors Light then crumpled the can and tossed it behind him. It bounced off their sleeping sons bald head but did not disturb him. Their child Benjamin was sound asleep in his car seat. You’re a piece of shit, Beth sighed. Through the heatwaves on the horizon a building came into view. There, Rodney exclaimed. There’s a rest stop . You can get an ice cold can of shut the fuck up. Beth slapped her palm over her sweaty face and through it said, I don’t know why i agreed to this. You’ll thank me when you’re drinking one of your foo foo drinks on the beach, Rodney said then belching loudly. Ill thank you when you drop dead, she replied coldly. The old Volvo station wagon rattled off the highway throwing up a dust cloud as it went, parking in front of the ramshackle little rest stop. Get me a coke, Beth said. She wanted to go in as well even if to only momentarily escape the wrath of the sun. It was the momentary absence of Rodney though which kept her in the oven of a car. Once he was gone Beth reached into her tattered purse between her feet and pulled from it a bottle of Xanax. Lately it was the only way she could stand to be around her husband. It worked wonders for keeping little Benjamin from being fussy too. In truth Benjamin was almost never awake. Beth couldn’t really stand to be around him either. It made her sick to feel such a way but nothing she did could seem to change it. She always thought she wanted to have a baby one day, until she did. She hasn’t been able to stop regretting it since. Cry, shit, eat, and cry some more, she thought. That’s all babies do, it seemed to her. Beth hated herself for being devoid of any feeling even remotely maternal. She hated herself and took it out on Benjamin exactly like her own mother did to her. It was a sad vicious cycle. In the cramped little rest stop Rodney located a cold beer. This time a glass forty ounce. He had a can of coke in his other hand as he approached the counter. It was only marginally cooler inside than out. Rodney found the disappointment of this tasted bitter. He frowned. Maybe his mouth was just dry. Dry like everything else in this place, he thought. There a place to piss around here? The attendant shrugged and shook her head, her hair concealing much of her downcast face. Some rest stop, Rodney grumbled placing his drinks on the countertop. Y’all best turn tail and go on back home, the attendant stated flatly as she took Rodney’s money. He furrowed his brow incredulously. Why, he asked in spite of himself. That’s when he really noticed how strange the attendant looked. It was like she was both young and old at the same time. Her brown grey hair was thin and wispy at her shoulders but her skin appeared to be taught and smooth, almost glowing. As she counted the singles to herself mouthing the words, Rodney noticed every other tooth was missing. The woman looked like a jack o lantern with skin like a runway model. She brushed her unruly hair out of her face and shifted her gaze to meet Rodneys eyes. Bad bad things goes on out yonder, she said in a raspy old voice. Her left eye bulged out from its socket with its honey brown iris and gazed off absently in a direction independent of its neighbor. The right, it blinked rapidly like she was fluttering it. Rodney tried not to stare as a fly landed on and crawled about the protuberant eyeball. He instead rolled his eyes. Yeah ok, he said dismissively and collected his purchases to leave. As he did he could hear her talking seemingly to no one. I tried telling him that, she murmured. Unable to suppress the urge Rodney said, what? Her head snapped to him and her face was contorted into something even uglier than was her resting expression. Rodney was slightly stunned she was capable of being any more repulsive. I ain’t talking to you, she spat through a mist of spittle flying from her chapped lips. The words were so abrasive they stung his eardrums like they were coated in sandpaper. Crazy bitch, he muttered on his way out. Back on the road again the station wagon rolled ahead. It was late afternoon now and the desert took on a golden hue from its earlier beige. I’m letting you know right now I’m not sleeping in the car tonight, Beth declared. Rodney took a swig of his sweaty beer. Fine, he said. Oughta be a motel or something coming up here soon. Beth nodded looking out at the endless desert flatness that enveloped them. Benjamin still hasn’t to this point stirred. When he does, Beth will surely wipe another dampened fingertip of Xanax dust under his tiny tongue. Oh how she hated herself for it. But not enough to change, a voice in the back of her head would always antagonize. Never enough to change. Miles rolled by under the spinning wheels without either Rodney nor Beth being much for conversation. She was still pissed off at him. Never mind the fact she was pretty sure she hated his guts. Hated everything about him. He was fat, he stunk, he was lazy, insensitive, selfish, and his micro penis. Don’t get me started on his micro penis, she thought. Beth realized she was clenching her fist at her analysis of him. Then she laughed. Baby dick, she howled inaudibly. Beth never could figure out what it was she saw in the guy. He was a man of lesser stock. A real bottom of the barrel type. I sure can pick em, cant I? A staticky Hank Williams song bled lowly from the speakers. It was the only station getting any reception. Rodney cleared his throat and said, whats so funny? That made Beth laugh even harder. You don’t wanna know, she answered between breaths. Rodney lobbed his empty bottle out the window. Damn it I’m trying to do something nice for you and you’ve been nothing but a raging cunt the whole time, he exclaimed. Rodneys words hit her like a slap in the face. You’re doing something you want to do Rodney, she fired back. Not once did you think about what i might want to do. I don’t give a fuck about the beach. Yelling as they were, it did not rouse the sedated baby in the back. Everything you like sucks, Rodney groaned. Don’t fucking talk to me, she roared before ducking from the wind to light a cigarette. Rodney watched the road silently and observed a passing sign that said on it, Hardshell Harrys Motor Lodge one mile. Good enough, he figured. Gravel crunched under tire as Rodney guided the Volvo into a parking spot. Hardshell Harry’s appeared empty like the desert in which they tread. There was only one other vehicle there. An old faded teal fifty’s pickup was parked on a far end in front of the motor lodge. Large neon red letters posted over top the long side of the L shaped building spelled out HARDSHELL. The eye sore of a structure looked to be made of cinderblocks with a sun bleached vomit green coat of paint. Ill get us a room, Rodney said shutting off the car. Beth turned to him and asked almost pleadingly, ain’t you gonna help? As Rodney creaked open the door to step out he said over his shoulder, be back with a key. Before Beth could say anything else the car door slammed shut. She sighed. Glancing up at the rear view with narrowed eyes she watched Benjamin for a while. It made her feel nauseous that he was part Rodney. Half scumbag. She shuddered at the notion. In the cheesy imitation Vegas lobby of Harrys, Rodney stood looking around for an employee. It was blissfully cool inside. Rising up from behind the counter stood a smartly dressed balding man in a grey cardigan sweater. It startled Rodney for a moment. The clean cut man stood there unblinking. His blue eyes appeared to be made of glass. They stared lifelessly ahead, not actually looking at Rodney. Was he blind? Rodney did not know. Can I help you sir? The suddenness of the inquiry startled Rodney yet again. He wondered, why am i so jumpy? Rodney quickly composed himself and said, need a room. The doll eyed man smiled. Of corse, he chirped. Rodney waited tapping his foot impatiently while the odd man shambled about, presumably searching for a key. This day just gets weirder and weirder, Rodney mumbled tapping his foot impatiently on the swirl patterned carpet. Outside the sun was beginning to set. Sitting in the car Beth wiped her sweaty face on her tank top. She then popped another Xanax into her mouth. No sooner had she swallowed it when Rodney could be seen leaving the lobby. He crunched his way in her direction waving a key and grinning. She got out of the station wagon to receive it and he said, take Benji ill get the stuff. There was no other exchange. Beth was too tired to talk to him anymore. When Rodney was sure that she was gone he leaned casually against the Volvo and dug around in his pocket. When his hand emerged it was holding a small joint. Just what i needed, he smiled. Rodney tried to keep his coughing as muted as he could while he enjoyed the smoke. The skunky aroma washed over him and melted his mind into a tepid pool of sweet relaxation. His shirt was almost completely saturated in ripe smelling sweat. Smile if you’re horny, it read across his flabby chest. Beth hated that shirt. She hated a lot of things about him. He knew it. This is who i am, he said to the darkening sky. Why cant she just accept that? He took another long drag reducing the joint to a stubby roach. Rodney thought that if they could only get to the beach and have a good quality time together that perhaps it could be the turning of a new leaf for them. A fresh start. Pinching the roach close to his thin lips he took a final puff and flicked the rest away. Ah who am i kidding, he coughed and spat. I just want to see all the T and A in skimpy bikinis. Beth just isn’t what she used to be. Rodney thought she was beginning to look more beef jerky than human these days. Presently he stood in front of room nine knocking. After some time with no answer, he tried the door. It was unlocked. The room was cool inside like the lobby and identically decorated in tacky casino surplus. It was a small dim room with two twin beds, a nightstand between them, and a small television against the opposing wall. Beth was asleep in bed holding Benjamin. Not getting laid tonight, he grumbled. With a sigh he went over to the other bed. And sat upon it to remove his shoes. The cool air felt icy and delightful on his freed feet. He stretched out on the bed for a while taking in the chilled air. He thought he should probably take a shower but he just didn’t feel like it. Not like I’m getting any anyway, he thought bitterly. When he became bored with laying there he scooted to the edge of the bed nearest the window for a look. Peeling back the curtain his mouth dropped open slightly. What the, he said trailing off. The window of their room faced the parking area and it was lit up red now by the neon light above. It was what was at the very edge of that light that intrigued him so. There were dozens of them just standing there. Skeletons? Not quite. They looked like skeletal figures certainly, but wrapped in a waxy skin stretched tight over their bones. They shone red in the sinister light of the Hardshell sign. Their faces were completely smooth with no discernible features. No eyes, nose, or mouth. Just a blank empty mass perched on a thin neck. Rodney stared dumbfounded. Then one of the figures raised a spindly arm and pointed directly at him. Rodney gasped and flung shut the curtain. There is no way i can be that hi, he whispered. Rodney couldn’t remember hallucinating on marijuana ever before. He had to look again. Anxiously he peeled back the curtain once again and looked. Nothing. Maybe i am that hi, he wondered. Rodney released the curtain to see if he could find something on TV, a distraction. He didn’t want to think about what he just saw or even thought he saw for that matter. He was just flat out done thinking today. After much channel flipping he finally settled on an old Beverly hillbillies rerun and drifted off to sleep. The stuff in the car would stay out there for tonight. In his fitful slumber Rodney experienced a reoccurring dream. Perhaps it was more nightmare. It was wildly confusing to him and caused him to wonder if he was gay. In said dream there he was, having sex with another man. It was a man identical to Rodney. Himself? He could never be certain. Even if it was just a duplicate, a clone, or some kind of doppelgänger, he didn’t like it. No and yet he did. He did very much in fact. What could it mean? It made his head spin whenever he tried to make sense of it. He did not dare speak a word of it to Beth. He knew he’d never hear the end of it. As Rodney made vigorous love to Rodney he kept hearing a female voice call his name. Rodney. Rodney get up. We gotta go right now, the voice said. He opened his eyes and left his perplexing dream state. He could see Beth standing over him shaking his shoulder, an expression of terror adorning her face. This place is not right Rod, she said shakily. What? Rodney rubbed his eyes and looked at the red glow still bleeding in through the gaudy curtains on the window. It’s still dark, he groaned. What time is it? I don’t know, she squealed. The time on my wrist watch and the time on the alarm clock are both stopped at six PM.. That’s when we fucking got here. Rodney opened his mouth to answer but she went on, blood. I turned on the faucet to wash my hands and the water is blood. See? Beth held up her dripping crimson hands. Rodney felt a cold fear in his guts. Maybe i wasn’t tripping, he thought nervously. Maybe this place really isn’t right. He nodded and said, get the boy. Leave the key. Rodney pointed at the shared nightstand. Outside Rodney couldn’t help but notice the sky. It was completely starless, no moon, nothing. Just an infinitely abyssal void. Are you coming? Beth was calling to him from the Volvo. Rodney ceased his sky gazing and joined her in the car. The station wagon spit up gravel as it tore away from Hardshell Harrys Motor Lodge and on to the highway, tires screeching on the asphalt. Beth let out a sigh of relief. I don’t know whats up with that place but something is seriously fucked up. Rodney nodded in agreement. I believe you, he said knowingly. Headlight beams stabbed into the blackness of night as the wagon barreled down the highway, red neon fading to oblivion in the distance. They rode in a tense silence. Both of them unable to comprehend what was going on or what they could possibly do about it even if they did. I’m scared, Beth whimpered and reached for Rodneys hand. This action served only to heighten Rodneys own fear, coward that he was. He took her shaking blood encrusted hand into his trembling grip. Ahead in the distance they spotted a red glow. At this Rodney squeezed Beths hand harder and her his. Rodney slowed the car in utter disbelief. Hardshell, the neon spelled. The very place they had just fled away from, they had now arrived at? They looked at each other in the red dimness. Beth was crying. What the fuck? It was then the letters H A R D and S went black. The sign now only read ominously, HELL. Beth squeaked a sob and Rodney stomped on the gas as though to outrun the enigmatic terror. Once again the dreadful red light faded away. Beth was becoming hysterical. What are we going to do? Shut up shut up, Rodney hissed. Let me think god damn it. Before long they came upon the sign again. HELL. The Volvo was flying, pushing ninety now. They just kept passing it and passing it again. Each completion of the horrifying circuit only strengthening their collective dismay. Beth wailed, how can this be happening? Rodney thought back to the warning he received at the rest stop. That freak was right, he realized gravely. He would not have the heart to reveal this devastating epiphany to Beth though. What would the use of that be? What Beth didn’t know, Beth couldn’t be pissed off at him for, he would be one to surmise. If it was an easy way out then Rodney would be taking it for all it was worth. It did not to him disguise the truth however, that he was the architect of his own demise. His guilt ridden train of thought was interrupted by a peculiar smell. Something almost metallic. You smell that? Beth sniffed but her nose was flooded with mucus. I cant smell. My nose is running. Beth reached for the cabin light overhead to have a look in the back. That’s when the screaming filled Rodneys ears. An undulating blanket of big red fire ants draped Benjamins entirety. Blood was pooling into a soupy mess and spilling over the base of his car seat. There were more of them pouring from the vents at the back of the center console. Like gushing ruby torrents the bulbous dime sized monsters spilled in to join the frenzy. Beth shrieked and clambered from her seat into the back. My baby. They’re eating my baby. Consumed by a primal instinct to survive, Rodney suspended his focus from the developing madness. He only drove. His eyes unbreakably locked on the rushing asphalt in front of him. Beth frantically tried brushing away the siege of ants but it only served in them turning their sights on her. She was peppered with them on her hands and arms and they were migrating further. Their stings felt like radiating blasts of agony. More and more of them came. The pain was becoming unbearable. God this hurts. This really fucking hurts, she cried out. Rodney. Rod help me. He didn’t hear her. Rodney was preoccupied with scouring every corner of his mind for a possible way out of this literal nightmare. His pondering was only disturbed by a sudden drop in the station wagons momentum. Struck with a flash of adrenaline Rodney blinked his wild eyes to the fuel gauge. Empty. The Volvo slowed and slowed, the helpless coasting made Rodney want to weep. Finally it came to an unceremonious stop. They have run out of gas and in total darkness of all places. The motor lodge only an iridescent red spec in the far distance. A fresh and more concentrated fear settled in his stomach and made him want to puke. I cant take this pain. Oh god. Oh fuck it hurts so fucking bad, Beth sobbed. With flailing arms she shoved the door open and left the car. Rodney watched with wide panicked eyes. His mouth dropped open when he saw her snatched from the lights edge into the blackness by some unseen hand. No let go of me. Let go. Get off me damn you. Her defiant words of resistance turned to gut wrenching screams, the like of which Rodney never heard another living creature make. It made the assault of stinging and biting insects seem like a stubbed toe by comparison. Then as suddenly as it started, it stopped. A searing ant bite on his neck cast him from his paralysis. He flung open the glove compartment and rifled through the clutter of papers and fast food wrappers. He never thought he would get any use out of the road flare he recovered from the mess but here he was, getting use out of it. Swiftly he climbed out his window. He squeezed his bulk through it and hefted his weight on to the roof. Rodneys heart was a jackhammer in his chest. The lights from the car rapidly dimmed to nothing and all was dark. It made Rodney practically convulse in terror. After three failed attempts to strike the flare with jerky spasmodic motions he finally succeeded. A near blinding orange brightness hissed to life. The scene which was subsequently revealed all but killed him. At the very edge of the road flares radiance they stood. Those waxy skeletal figures, shoulder to shoulder all around him. Maybe i could out run them, he begged. Maybe there’s still a way out of this shit for me. There has to be, just has to. Red angry streaks of lightning glowed intermittently and distant. One of them tearing the black sky directly overhead, delivering an explosion of crimson luminosity below. It wasn’t only those encircling the road flares edge. No, in the split second of the lightning strike he could see them all. Hundreds of thousands or perhaps millions of those abominations were out there. As far as the eye could see, they were out there. Rodney wined and whimpered. I’m screwed. Fucking screwed, he said. The things did not comment, if they were even capable of such a thing. They only stood still and silent. Out of the corner of his eye Rodney saw something thump heavily on to the roof by his foot. It was Beths disembodied head. Her stunned eyes were blinking rapidly and her mouth working as a fishes would out of water. It looked like the head was ripped rather than cut by the way thick chords of muscle dangled from the neck. Rodney gasped and choked. He nearly dropped the sizzling flare. Then other things started to fall. A foot here, an organ there. It was a rain of blood and gore and viscera. A length of intestine hit him and draped itself around his neck. He screamed and flung it off.go away. Please. Leave me alone. He pleaded with them at the top of his lungs. His voice was strained and horse. It was no use. He didn’t even know if they were capable of hearing in the first place. I cant die here. Not like this, he cried out in great heaving sobs that racked and shuddered his whole body. A burst of the ominous lightning flashed near by forcing him to gaze once again upon the countless masses in all directions. Those awful mockeries of humanity. Just as Rodneys hysteria could reach no higher level, as his desperation could be no more palpable, and his feeling of abject hopelessness no more pure, his smoldering road flare and literal light of his life burned out.