Sean E. Britten

I’ve always been inspired by music (I know, super original!) and music has always been a part of my writing. Way back in the days of burnt CDs, my mates and I used to put together CD mixtapes and I came up with the idea of a series of short stories based around pieces of music. Mixtape is all short stories sharing their titles with different songs and inspired, to various degrees, by their lyrics, artists, and vibe.

Currently Playing: Frank Sinatra – I’ve Got You Under My Skin

Something unknown lurks in the water of the old quarry. Something that wants to get out by any means necessary, as Dylan finds out to his detriment when he and a friend make the hike out there and go for a dip.

======

The trail out to the old quarry was so overgrown it disappeared back into the bush for stretches at a time. I followed Ricky over another rise, shallow but covered in loose stones. I had to be careful not to break an ankle. I had no idea what we’d do if one of us actually had a serious fall out here. The midday sun slid off its apex and filtered through the trees.

“You sure we’re going the right way?”

Ricky looked back. “Yeah, we’re almost there! Don’t even worry about it.”

“I don’t want to get stuck out here in the dark, do I?”

“We’re almost there! Don’t be such a pussy, it’s hours until it gets dark.”

Slipping the backpack off one shoulder, I found my water bottle and sucked down a couple of mouthfuls. Neither of us really knew anything about hiking. Sweat soaked my t-shirt and I started to feel a little lightheaded with the heat. The backs of my shoes rubbed blisters into my ankles. The only reason we were on this stupid hike was because Ricky claimed the quarry would make a perfect spot for pictures that we could use on the hookup apps. A perfect excuse for a shirtless pic that didn’t look too try-hard. It’d look adventurous, and chicks always wanted a new background for Instagram shots so it’d be a good conversation starter. That was what Ricky reckoned anyway. He was convinced the quarry was too far out of the way for most people to know about it but he’d been there five or so years ago with his dad. I was convinced the track wouldn’t have been as wild and hard to navigate back then as it was now.

The last section of trail was all uphill. We climbed and climbed, a couple of almost vertical shelves of rock just broken enough to get some footing on. The trees grew too close around the trail to give us any idea of where we were going. I bit back a couple of complaints about this all being a waste of fucking time.

“Here we go,” Ricky said, reaching the head of the slope ahead of me.

As soon as I got to the top, I was glad I’d held back on complaining. Trees opened up to either side and the view was undeniable. A vast hole had been gouged and scooped out of the earth, leaving a spectacular crater with sheer rock sides. The water filling the lower portion of the basin had a vivid blue-green tinge to it that didn’t look natural. Cool and inviting, like a giant backyard pool, or maybe toxic, depending on how generous you felt like  being. Beyond the far side of the quarry, the land spread out like a blanket. Miles and miles of green tree tops with strings of roads and suburbs in the distance. A postcard view, even after the long hike I couldn’t dismiss it. If anything, the effort to get there made the view all the more satisfying.

“What do you reckon?” Ricky asked.

“Yeah, alright, pretty good.”

“Pretty good! It’s perfect!”

The only thing that spoiled the view was an old sign posted on one side, scaled with rust, warning of loose rocks. Undergrowth gave way to a slab of pale stone. I watched my step as I eased over to the edge and glanced down.

Ricky shrugged off his backpack and tossed it aside. He peeled off his singlet and threw it aside as well. The two of us had hit the gym that morning in anticipation of the hike and taking pics. Drumming his hands against his abs, his skin gleamed with sweat. I set my bag down and pulled my shirt off as well. Taking a pull from the water bottle, I tipped some over my head. Ricky produced his phone and held it out toward me.

“What, you want to take a picture now?”

“Yeah, no time like the present,” Ricky said.

“I’ll do you and you do me?”

“If I could do you and you could do me, we wouldn’t need any new pics to get hookups.”

I eased myself to the very edge of the cliff and looked straight down. Pebbles grated underfoot so I made sure to move carefully. The side of the old quarry was so steep that I could have taken a single step and dropped straight down into the eerily green-blue water. It was too cloudy to see the bottom.

“Why does the water look like that?” I asked.

“Metal, I think,” Ricky said. “Some kind of metals coming up from under the ground.”

“Is it just rainwater?”

“I think it comes up from under the ground as well. Who knows what the fuck is in it?”

“No swimming then.”

I couldn’t help thinking the water still looked pretty inviting after the long walk. There was a steeply sloped road that dog-legged out of the quarry about halfway around the outside but I couldn’t see how to get to it. And who knew what was in the water, like Ricky said.

“Use my phone.” Ricky handed me his phone, camera already open.

Stepping back across the clearing, I tried to find an angle on Ricky. He thrust his chest and I could see him flexing even as he tried to look casual.

“Get the water in it,” Ricky said. “Angle it up.”

“No shit.”

Without even looking, Ricky took another step backward. Pebbles tumbled over the edge of the cliff and my stomach lurched a little.

“Oi, be careful!”

“Just take the picture, man! Do both, do the landscape and the other one.”

I did as Ricky asked, snapping a bunch of shots, and then handed the phone back to him. Standing near the edge, I did pretty much the same as he had done, puffing my chest and flexing my arms while trying to look cool, thinking of how eye-catching the view behind me would be.

“Step back,” Ricky said.

Nervous, I looked down and slid my feet across the loose rocks. There were cracks running deep in the edge of the cliff.

“No, back, back,” Ricky said.

“Why don’t you just take the photo?”

“Fine, you want to look scared.”

Ricky moved the phone up and down, tapping at the screen. When he was done, he turned and hunted for a place to set the phone down. Finding the crook of a tree, he nestled it on its side with the screen pointed toward us. I started to step away.

“No, no! Stay there, I’ll get one of the two of us,” Ricky said. “I’m just doing the timer.”

“Why?”

“Gee, I don’t know, we’re supposed to be mates? Making nice, happy memories together?”

I laughed. “Yeah, yeah, alright.”

Ricky set the timer and hurried back to where I was standing. Conscious of the drop, I’d stepped away from the edge. He slung one heavy arm around my shoulder and hauled me back into position. Without thinking I tried to pull away but he was stronger and clung on.

“Fuck!”

“Would you chill out? And smile for the picture,” Ricky said.

Straightening, I turned back toward the phone and grimaced. The screen blinked as it counted down. Suddenly, I felt rather than heard something go crack underfoot. A plate of rock pulled away, ever so slightly, from the cliff itself. Dust puffed into the air. The weight of the two of us together seemed to have disrupted something.

“Oh, fuck!”

I lurched forward, trying to jump clear. Ricky, however, off balance, stumbled back. His grip tightened on my shoulder as he lashed out for something to hold onto. The bench-sized section of rock underfoot didn’t break but fell to a new angle, sharply sloped, and suddenly my feet couldn’t grip thanks to all the pebbles. Across the clearing, the camera flashed and snapped a picture of the two of us. Anchored together, we both plunged into open air.

A wordless scream choked in my throat. Tumbling end over end, I couldn’t say which way was up and which was down. The blue of the sky, the vivid blue-green of the water, the pale rock of the cliff face, it all whipped around me like a kaleidoscope. Ricky flailed beside me, one hand slapping against my shoulder. With a slam, we punched through the surface of the artificial lake and cool, bracing water surrounded and squeezed me.

Blind and deafened, I tumbled to a stop. I brushed against a shelf of rock but had lost enough momentum by that point that it didn’t hurt. All I could see were bubbles, and milky blueness. Blinking rapidly, I distinguished clouds of silt and then movement, fish maybe, wriggling black lines in the water. I still wasn’t sure which way was up until I saw sunlight glittering on the surface. Pushing off the bottom, I stroked and swam back the way I’d come.

My head thrust back through the surface and I gasped for air more out of panic than actual need. My heart thundered in my chest. The sheer vertical wall of the cliff we’d just fallen over stretched overhead. Ripples cratered the water.

Surprising myself, I let out a whoop of relieved laughter. If given a minute, I’m sure I would remember the phone in my pocket, probably ruined, or I’d have realised I wasn’t sure how we’d get back to the trail, and I’d get pissed off, but in that moment I was just happy to be alive. My second thought was to think what a great story this would make, especially if Ricky’s phone actually captured the moment we fell. My third thought was to realise Ricky had not, in fact, reappeared.

“Ricky? Ricky?” I kicked and turned. “Oh, fuck!”

The surface of the water calmed but I could see some froth and bubbles where I thought Ricky must have fallen. Quickly sucking in a breath, I dived. Blinking rapidly to clear the silt from my eyes, I pushed myself down through the water. I wasn’t a great swimmer but desperation helped. Strange shadows loomed out of the unnatural blue-green. Rocks that I’d been lucky not to land on top of jutted from the bed of the quarry. Ricky wasn’t as lucky. I saw him drifting, horribly still, his legs pointed toward me. Blood streamed from the side of his head.

I swam harder and felt the pressure of the water on my eardrums. My lungs started burning. Reaching out, I snatched Ricky by the leg and drew him closer. It was only then that I realised he was under attack, or so it looked. Half a dozen of those black, wiggly fish, eels I assumed, anchored themselves to bits of his upper body. They nipped his arms and chest. A couple of them inspected the blood leaking from his head. Bubbles vomited out of my mouth as I swore at the creatures. Swinging, I clawed and batted the eels away before pulling Ricky to my chest.

Ricky was limp and heavy in the crook of my arm as I kicked back toward the surface. The black eels swarmed around the two of us. My lungs were turning into hot coals in my chest. Everything I could see was blue and green and cloudy but it started to go grey at the edges. I fought harder and paddled until my head met open air again.

Throwing my face back, I gasped. Ricky’s head lolled on my shoulder. His face was still in the water. With my free hand, I grabbed his wet hair and tilted his head. Water ran out of his mouth but I felt his chest hitch as he took a breath. I struggled to keep us vertical and with our heads above the water. I couldn’t believe how heavy he felt. Even kicking as hard as I could, I couldn’t hold the two of us up. Dipping, I swallowed a draught of water and choked it up.

“Shit! Wake up, man! Wake up!”

Something skimmed the inside of my thigh. One of the eels, it ran up my leg and into my shorts. I cried out and thrashed and lost my grip on Ricky’s naked upper body. He tumbled, boneless, back into the water. I struggled to stay upright even without him anchoring me, thrashing until the eel left my shorts.

“Motherfucker!”

Bending at the waist, I kicked and dived a second time. Ricky dropped directly under me, arms raised. His fingers twitched, convulsing slightly. More of those creatures circled.

Wedging my hands into Ricky’s armpits, I tried to haul him up. He convulsed harder. I thought I saw his eyelids flickering. Suddenly, however, I was distracted by one of the eel-like animals as it appeared right in front of my face. It wasn’t an eel, or any kind of fish, more like a worm with a segmented body as thick as my thumb but long and ribbony. Feelers like threads of hair drifted around its ‘head’. The black flesh of its nearest end peeled open and some kind of mouth bloomed, needle teeth bristling from mouthparts like fleshy petals.

I recoiled and the worm shot straight at my face. My mouth clamped closed but the worm darted toward one of my nostrils instead. Tiny teeth sliced the sensitive outer surface. Bubbles streamed out of my mouth as I let out an involuntary shout. It felt like the fucking thing was inside my sinuses, biting, writhing, drilling itself deeper. My eyes hazed. The pain was incredible. Sharp, penetrating, and nauseating. It was like some kind of psycho was driving a corkscrew into my nostril and tunneling toward my brain. Slapping at my own nose, I felt its ribbony body trailing from my right nostril, slick with slime and maybe blood. Centimetre by centimetre, it was disappearing into my face.

Ricky thrashed against my hip. We were still under the surface, drifting, and I was on the verge of sucking down a lungful of water. I slung an arm around Ricky’s throat and hauled him toward the surface. Blind, pain splitting my skull open, I flung my free arm out and kicked.

My face broke the surface. I sucked air and swallowed water and choked and vomited. The pain in my sinuses caused tears to stream from my eyes. Only desperation and adrenaline gave me the strength to lift Ricky to the surface as well. Still blind, I kicked and paddled in the direction I thought the cliff lay, hoping for a ledge or a handhold.

The rough rasp of rock grazed my palm. Solid ground rose underfoot  and I managed to stand, drawing Ricky higher. I felt his body reject the water he’d swallowed. As soon as I was able, I wiped my eyes and reached for my nose. Blood slicked my upper lip, streaming from my right nostril, but that was the only trace I could find of the worm. Piercing pain retreated behind my eyes. Something behind the bridge of my nose felt oddly hollow.

The worm couldn’t have made it all the way inside me, could it? No, the idea was too fucked up to entertain. It had to have bitten the inside of my nose and then retreated, right? Disappearing back into the water?

I was distracted as Ricky writhed suddenly, gasping, and his eyes flipped open. I staggered on the narrow underwater ledge. Blood drained down the side of Ricky’s head and into the water. He gasped for air but his eyes were glassy and unfocused.

“Hey, hey, man! It’s okay!” I said, my voice thick with phlegmy blood and raw from choking on water. “It’s okay, I got you.”

One of Ricky’s arms slung itself around my shoulders and clawed the back of my neck. His weight pulled me off the ledge and back into the water. Coming around without knowing where he was or what was happening, his first instinct must have been to fight. His other hand shoved me in the chest. He pulled me under the surface for a moment until I fought my way upright again.

“Stop it, man!”

With all my strength, I pushed back but I was exhausted and still suffering from an aching head. If I didn’t do something else, he was going to drown me. One of his feet kicked me. Like a frightened animal, he tried to climb me and pushed me under again. I fought my way back to the cliff and grasped for something to hold onto. The handhold I found, however, broke off and left me holding a chunk of rock the size of a brick.

I pulled myself upright and one shoulder crashed against the cliff. Ricky kept trying to climb me. A surge of something filled my body. It wasn’t anger or even fear, or panic. It didn’t have any emotion to it at all. It was just a command, a directive, an order, to defend myself. To fight, to act, to protect myself now, now, now.

My hand whistled around without another thought. With a crunch, the rock I held met the side of Ricky’s head. He fell backward into the water again. As if I’d been the one struck, everything shrunk into blackness.

xXx

Trudging through the shadowy bush, sun sinking in the west, I found myself on the trail Ricky and I had hiked. Consciousness seeped back into my mind until I realised where I was with a sudden jolt. Stumbling, I turned in place and searched the trees.

“Ricky?”

I was alone, shirtless, and didn’t have my bag. My shorts and shoes were still damp. Everything that had happened felt like a dream. The quarry, the fall, the worms. My face ached. My hand went to my nose. My right nostril burned as if inflamed and blood stuck to my upper lip. That worm couldn’t have possibly gone all the way inside though. I felt a powerful aversion to thinking about it too hard. The memory itself hurt, and retreated into fog.

Ricky. I felt the weight of the rock I’d used to hit him in my hand. The swing, the crunch. That was the last thing I remembered, I had no idea how I’d found my way out of the quarry and onto the trail again. I hadn’t even paid that much attention as Ricky led me down it in the first place.

“I should go back,” I said to myself. “I should find Ricky.”

I started back in the direction of the quarry. After only a few steps though, I was filled with a powerful feeling of disgust. I had to get away, keep moving, as far away as possible. Anything else was revolting.

“I can’t do anything for him. I should go get help instead. That’s it, if I stay out here I’ll never make it back before dark and then we’ll both be stuck out here.”

It was self defense, what happened. Open and shut. If I hadn’t done it, he would have killed us both in blind panic. I couldn’t explain the blackout afterwards but maybe it was trauma, or a result of being nearly drowned. But I would go, and get help, and they would see I only acted in self defense. Maybe they wouldn’t even be able to tell I’d hit him. He’d fallen and hit his head, after all. I’d hit him in roughly the same place, maybe a doctor would just think he’d landed a little harder than he really had.

Every step away from the quarry felt a little bit better. Like I was doing the right thing. A burden lifting from my shoulders. I was tired, my face burning, my muscles aching, but I picked up speed. With surprising surety, I conquered the broken slopes that I’d struggled with earlier.

It occurred to me to check my phone. It was still in my pocket but the water had wrecked it and it wouldn’t turn on. Getting out of the bush before dark was all the more urgent. I couldn’t call for help and I couldn’t use the phone’s light once the sun went down. I hadn’t told anyone where we were going, no one was likely to realise I was missing for at least a few days, and I didn’t have any reason to think Ricky would have told anyone either.

By some miracle, I reached the parking lot before night fell. Dying light burned on the horizon. Luckily, I’d driven us and my keys were in my pocket.

I should have driven straight to the nearest place I could find a phone and called for help. But the quarry, the near-drowning, Ricky, it all faded the further away I got. A new priority came to the front of my mind, to find something to eat. I was hungry all of a sudden. I was so hungry it was hard to concentrate on anything else. I’d find something to eat and at the same time call for help.

Pulling into the first petrol station I saw, I hurried inside without thinking about how I must have looked. Shirtless, drying blood on my face. I moved through the aisles and grabbed some snacks at random. The heated cabinet near the register held a bunch of pies and sausage rolls. Almost burning my hands, I scooped them off the shelves and hugged them against my chest. The guy behind the counter looked me up and down with open suspicion.

“You’ve got some blood on you, mate,” he said.

Fingertips brushed my nose. “Nosebleed.”

In the car, I shovelled several hot pies into my mouth. Meat and gravy scalded the roof of my mouth. I was forgetting something, I should go back in, but the light radiating from the inside of the building began to bother my eyes. I felt that compulsion to keep moving. I wanted a safe place away from light and movement and other people.

xXx

Home was safe. I didn’t leave it for the next couple of days. I lost the compulsion to keep moving as soon as I settled down on the couch. I’d been through a traumatic experience, I needed comfort food and rest. My phone wouldn’t turn back on but I had my laptop so that was okay.

I’d gotten a little soft around the middle, a paunch falling over the waistband of my shorts. When did that happen? It had only been a couple of days. That was okay, I’d get myself back into shape. Or not. A wave of satisfaction overcame me and I couldn’t find it in myself to care. I hadn’t taken a good look at myself since I got back from the hike really. Light had started to bother my eyes and I kept the blinds closed and the lights off. Actually, I wasn’t sure how long it had really been. I’d been eating a lot, and sleeping a lot, maybe more than would fit into two days. But I couldn’t remember doing much else with my time, and I wasn’t keeping to a schedule.

Knocking at the door brought me out of my daze. Someone talked at me from the other side of the door and I wondered how long they might have been there.

“Mr Murphy? Are you home, Mr Murphy?”

It took me a few more moments to find my voice. “Sorry, I’ll be there in a second!”

I struggled to pull on a t-shirt. My arms felt wooden and the material was too tight with the weight I’d put on. A hoodie was draped over the back of a chair. Tossing the shirt aside, I pulled on the hoodie instead.

Two uniformed cops stood behind the door when I cracked it open. A jolt cut through my dim haze. My first instinct was to swing the door closed again but logic stopped me.

“Mr Dylan Murphy?” the first cop asked.

“That’s me, sorry, I was sleeping.

“Are you feeling alright, Mr Murphy” The cop studied me through the narrow gap between the door and the doorframe.

“Actually, yeah, nah, I’ve been feeling a bit sick.”

“Can we come inside?”

“If you want? Maybe it’s better if you stay out here though.” As pathetically as I could, I coughed into my hand.

“We’ve tried calling you,” the second cop said.

“Yeah, my phone hasn’t been working either.”

“We were looking into the whereabouts of a Mr Ricky DiMarco.”

A flash of memory went through my head. The weight of the rock in my hand, the crack against Ricky’s skull. Self defense, it was self defense, I reminded myself. But then, I hadn’t told anyone about it when I got back. I hadn’t sent anyone to see if he could be helped. For a few long moments, I tried to remember why.

“Mr Murphy?”

“Right, sorry, Ricky? What happened?”

“Mr DiMarco has been missing for several days now. He hasn’t been seen at home or at work. His ex-girlfriend told us you might have been the last person to see him.”

“Who, Valorie? Why would she say that?”

“Apparently, she said you and Mr DiMarco had plans to go to the gym and then take a bushwalk on the day he disappeared.” The second cop looked suspicious while the first seemed bored, as if the whole thing was routine.

“Oh, right.” I shook my head. “We were going to do that, but I got sick.”

“So you didn’t see him?”

“Is this Sunday? We met at the gym and worked out, but I wasn’t feeling very good so I went home after that.”

“Do you know if Ricky still planned to do the hike alone? Do you know where exactly he might have been going?”

I shook my head. “Nah, sorry, we didn’t really talk about it. I don’t remember.”

My stomach rolled. In spite of the seriousness of the conversation, I couldn’t find myself getting too worried. I wasn’t sure if my lack of reaction helped in getting the cops to take me at my word or made them more suspicious. But suddenly, that impulse rose up inside me. Not fear or anger but to defend myself. Defend. My eyes, dry and sore, flicked toward the nearest cop’s gun belt. Without thinking, I started toward it. A countering instinct, however, removed from the first, reminded me that attacking a cop would be a very, very bad idea. My hand shot out and gripped the side of the doorway. The other locked around the handle.

Both cops looked concerned. “Are you alright, Mr Murphy?” the first one asked.

“I’m okay.” I eventually found my voice. “It’s a stomach thing.”

As if to help my cover story, a long and audible gurgle started in my stomach and slowly filled the space between the three of us. I felt my guts writhe. I thought I could actually see something press against the cloth over my midsection for a moment, like a baby’s hand. My own hand shook as it gripped the doorway, still wanting to shoot out as if of its own accord and grapple with the closest cop’s gun.

“Let me give you my card,” the first cop said finally. “If Mr DiMarco contacts you, or if you think of anything else, could you please give me a call?”

“Sure thing.”

After the police left I felt oddly empty. I should have been worried, I thought with detachment. Okay, the cops didn’t know where Ricky and I had gone but sooner or later someone would find him, surely. I’d left my bag with his when I made my way back to the trail. Ricky’s phone might still be sitting on that tree branch. If they unlocked it, they’d literally find pictures of the two of us together.

I considered going back and collecting the evidence. Maybe finding Ricky’s body as well. But the thought of returning to the quarry filled me with such a powerful disgust that I immediately dismissed it. Not when I was so close. Close? Close to what? I didn’t know, but it felt right. Now that I was awake and moving, hunger became a bigger concern and I went to the kitchen.

I wasn’t sure how much later it was when I heard more hammering at the door. I’d eaten, sat around in a daze, maybe napped, and eaten again. I’d thought a little about what to do with the evidence of my presence at the quarry but I’d forgotten about it by the time I heard the knocking. My first thought was that it was the cops again and for a moment I felt real fear. But something smothered it only a few heartbeats later, some chemical squirt in the brain.

“I know you’re in there, Dylan!” A voice came from the other side of the door. “I can hear you! Open up!”

“Valorie?”

“Open the door!”

I was still wearing the hoodie, some fresh food stains down the front. Approaching the door, head down, I reached carefully for the handle but debated whether to open it. Valorie hammered again and let out a wordless shout. If I left her out there, she would attract attention from the other apartments on my floor.

“Dylan!”

“Alright, alright.”

I pulled the door halfway open again, like I’d done for the cops, blocking the apartment with my body. Valorie vibrated in the corridor, dark hair tossed around her face, looking like a storm about to erupt.

“You think you can just turn off your phone and not talk to anyone, and we’d just leave you alone?”

“My phone isn’t working,” I said.

Valorie was Ricky’s on-again, off-again girlfriend. As far as I knew they were off-again but they must have been talking if she knew about our plans to hike to the quarry.

“You lied to the cops, didn’t you?” she said. “I know you were with him when he disappeared!”

“I didn’t go, I wasn’t feeling good.”

“He messaged me while you were at the gym! I told them that, you must have lied.”

“You guys were talking?”

“Where is he? What did you do to him?”

That same impulse welled up again. That one that reared its head when I hit Ricky with the rock, or when I’d nearly grabbed the cop’s gun. Like a hit of adrenaline served cold instead of heated, to defend, to defend the whole. Valorie stared at me, eyes wide and crazed. She was the threat. This time, I couldn’t think of a reason not to attack her. Not instinctively like I had with the cops. Not in time to stop.

Letting go of the door, I lashed out with both hands. Valorie didn’t look surprised until I’d taken hold of both sides of her head. I felt the heft and curved plates of her skull as I swung it around, dragging the rest of her body by the neck. A squeak barely escaped her throat before I slammed the top of her head into the doorframe.

Twisting, I threw Valorie to the ground. It was as if I was watching from somewhere outside myself. Somewhere, distantly, there was horror. It was blockaded behind a wall of ice. Fists rose and fell like hammers. She tried to shout for help but quickly fell silent. After several more blows, I looked up and down the hallway in both directions. No other doors opened. Standing, I took Valorie by the arms and pulled her inside.

xXx

A couple of days later, the body in the tub had started to stink. Valorie must not have told anybody where she was going though because no one came to ask about her. The cops hadn’t come by about her or Ricky but I assumed they probably would eventually. I should have been worried about it, maybe in some distant place in my mind I was, but mostly I switched between food and sleep and a kind of happy daze.

It didn’t matter, I was ready. Ready for what I wasn’t quite sure but something in my body knew. I needed water. Not to drink, but to immerse myself in it. Anywhere but the quarry, I knew I couldn’t go back there, but another large body of water. I knew just where to go.

It was a hot day. I’d been keeping the blinds closed because the light hurt my eyes and I kept the air conditioner running because I liked it cool, and it helped with the smell of Valorie, but it was hot outside and I thought that might suit me as well.

My jeans wouldn’t button up. My once flat stomach bulged, hard and round and protruding. My limbs felt thick and clumsy as well. My breathing laboured as if my chest was full of gunk. I forced my feet into some sneakers and wore the same old hoodie on top. Sunglasses helped my eyes.

Driving felt unfamiliar. Backing out, I smacked into another car in my apartment building’s parking lot but ignored it and kept going. Fortunately, the gym wasn’t far away. Most days I would have walked there but it was too hot and too bright. My head was tucked against my shoulders, hood pulled over my brow, eyes hidden. The parking lot at the gym was full so I pulled into the only available space, one of the handicapped spaces near the doors.

Ricky and I only used the gym half of the complex when we would work out together. The other half was given away to a couple of swimming pools, an Olympic-sized one and a much smaller kiddy pool. Water. Chlorine filled my nostrils as I swiped my gym card at the entrance. With the heat of the day, the pool teemed with people. Half the big pool was partitioned into lanes for serious swimmers who lapped up and down the rows but the other half had been given over to splashing kids, families, children and their parents, groups of teens, young couples. There must have been two or three hundred people in total filling the pool.

Water, it didn’t matter what kind. I needed water. I needed release. My stomach thrust forward, pulling my legs along with it. Still in my hoodie and jeans, I staggered right to the nearest edge of the pool and let myself fall in.

Tranquility. Water filled my eyes and ears. I drifted in a sea of blue. Only distantly was I aware of the muffled splashing and laughter and screams of fun. Strange currents tugged me back and forth as I let myself drift toward the bottom.

A spasm wracked the length of me. For a moment there was pain, a terrible fucking pain. Something wrenched around in my guts, like I’d swallowed a lawnmower and it had just started spinning. My limbs stiffened so hard it felt like their muscles were tearing free of the bones. But then it was smothered by waves and waves of pleasure. No, there was no pain here. There was only peace. I was exactly where I needed to be.

Release. Expulsion. Birth. I could feel it churn deep inside me and then explode. My jaw clicked as it was forced open, yawning, and my throat folded itself inside out. My jeans, unbelted and unbuttoned, were blown down past my knees by the sheer amount of force coming from my arsehole. But it felt so good. Like an orgasm that went on and on at its peak. La petit mort? La grande fucking mort. Mixed with the sensation of taking a massive and satisfying shit. And puking, but a good kind of puke, a cleansing puke. It hollowed me and cleaned me out.

Blood and shit clouded the water all around me, but through it I could see the worms. Dozens on dozens of them, hundreds, black shapes nearly as thick as my thumb but long and wriggling. They’d been packed so tight in there but now they spread out in all directions. I saw mouths flowering open, full of needle teeth. They swarmed toward the swimmers, legs kicking in the water, bodies bouncing up and down.

The muffled screams of joy turned piercing and terrified. As the last couple of worms slipped past my lips, I inhaled. Water filled my ravaged lungs and I settled against the bottom of the pool. The last thing I saw before my vision went black were the worms forcing themselves on the nearest swimmers, a new generation looking for new breeding grounds, new homes.

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Sean: Concept for this one was a bit obvious, wasn’t it? Trying to think of famous song titles to use and coming up with ‘I’ve Got You Under My Skin’, it’s going to be about parasites, isn’t it? That’s a gimme right there. Not that I feel like there’s anything wrong with that! Just you go looking for inspiration and sometimes it’s something bizarre and coming at you completely from left field, and sometimes it’s a bit more obvious.

Obviously inspired by the horrifying horsehair worm that infect the likes of grasshoppers and other insects which drive their victims to water and then rip free of the body when they’re tired of living inside their guts. Those, and those parasites that drive their hosts to do risky stuff so they’re eaten by birds and then can complete the next part of their life cycles inside the birds instead. They’re just fascinating. I think I’ve said before but nature documentaries are such a great source of inspiration. Nature is incredible and horrific and beautiful and has so many stories to tell that sometimes if I’m feeling short of inspiration then I’ll watch a documentary to give me some new ideas.

Remember you can check out the Mixtape mixtape for an idea of what’s coming up and to see where I’ve found inspiration, I’ll be adding some new songs shortly, and for other updates you can find me on Facebook, Twitter, Reddit, and Instagram.

Next Track: Men At Work – Who Can It Be Now?