Bare Root Review Fall 2010 #11

Shaun looked down at his right arm for the seventh time in the last hour and scratched at the small red mark on his forearm. The itch had become unbearable. He could do nothing but roll up his sleeve and itch his arm like a mad man. Several strange looks emerged from the faces of his co-workers sitting at the conference table with him.

“Poison oak?” Jill asked as she pointed to the blotchy red spot.

“No. It just itches.”

“Whatever it is, you should see a doctor before we all catch it.”

Jill was probably right, Shaun thought as he took the elevator to the parking garage. When the elevator opened the garage was pitch black except for the dim light from the security office. Shaun tapped on the window there was no one there.

“Great,” Shaun thought to himself as he went in and searched for the light switches. There were three to choose from Shaun flipped them all. The lights brightened slowly starting at the end of the garage.

Most of the garage was still dark but he wasn’t waiting and he could see his car. Shaun walked further into the darkened section of the garage. Strange little noises started to fill his head with visions of creatures that could possibly be making the noises. There was nothing he could do but walk a bit faster and hope to god it was just his imagination.

Shaun reached his car and was searching his coat pocket for his keys when someone tapped his shoulder. He spun on the heels of his feet and came face to face with a small old man who was holding Shaun’s keys.

“Drop these?”

“I must of, thanks.”

“No problem. Found them in the Security office by the switches. Stopped by the little boy’s room when no one was looking, you must have been the last one at the office.”

“Yeah, thanks again.” Shaun said as he unlocked his door and slid into the driver’s seat.

“Yep, you gottta be careful now a days with all those loonies out there. Can never be too careful. I always told my wife that. Always one to help out those in need. She was shot.”

“Sorry to hear that, but it’s late…”

“Yep, mugged and murdered in broad daylight. If I had been there I would’ve gutted that guy from navel to neck in a single swoop with this little number,” the old man said as he pulled out a knife.

Shaun gave up being nice, closed his door and started his car, but not before waving to the old man.

Work had been hell the past couple of weeks and the old guy in the parking garage just seemed to add stress. Shaun had attributed stress to the cause of the red itchy spots. The spots had all started out small but grew larger each night and the itch intensified as the spots grew.

The previous night he woke up digging his fingernails into his arm where a red spot had appeared. He was able to stop himself but not before he removed bits of flesh from his forearm. There had been a horrid smell that had lingered, he went to the bathroom and cleaned up the holes. Once his arm was bandaged he had further inspected the bits of flesh under the florescent lighting of the bathroom. Small and blackened with a rotten smell.

Shaun’s apartment was dark and uninviting as he walked through the sparsely furnished rooms. He went over to the refrigerator and looked inside to find something eatable. There was just never enough time anymore to get to the grocery store before it closed, he thought as he looked through the cupboards for food. Nothing. As Shaun grabbed the phone to call out for some Chinese, someone knocked on the front door.

He could see Bill’s stubby warped body through the peephole in the door. Shaun opened the door.

“Hey. Wondered if you saw the game last night.” Bill said as he inched closer to the door and Shaun.

“What game was that? I didn’t think there was one on.”

“Oh, I meant last week. The football game.”

“Baseball?”

“Yeah. Did you see it?”

“No. Did you need something?”

Bill dug through his pocket and took out a worn book.

“I thought you might want this. It’s a medical book. With pictures.”

Shaun humored Bill and leafed through the book before returning it.

“I thought you might want to know what those red bumps are. I’ve narrowed it down to small pox or spider bites.”

Shifting his weight on the door, Shaun inched his way back into the apartment.

“You should really put some cream on those before you tear your skin off.”

“Yeah, thanks. I gotta go.”

“Alright, take this and look through it more. Just don’t lose my bookmarks.”

Shaun closed the door and put the book on the kitchen counter. Bill wasn’t the person he had wanted to talk to at the moment. Work was hell and Jill was on his case. He didn’t need stalker wannabe Bill coming around offering help. In a sort of sick way, the spots created an escape from the world and all that mattered was the sweet relief that followed after each scratch.

Shaun felt the itch creep up. He was so concentrated on reaching relief from the itch that he barely noticed the pain until he stopped. His white carpet had several small pools of blood scattered upon it. Odd smells filled the room as he stuck his fingers deep into the flesh of his arm. God, what the hell is that smell, Shaun thought to himself as he smelled his fingers. Smells of rotten beef and rancid clotted blood drove him to the bath room to retrieve some vapor rub to put under his nose.

The vapor rub didn’t do much good because even after washing his hands he could still smell the rottenness upon them and the smell transferred to the vapor rub. Shaun looked into the mirror; his face was pale and covered in blood and more red spots.

“How am I going to cover these up.” he said out loud as he touched and poked the blotches on his face. He fell to his knees as the fiery inching sensation filled his face.

Shaun lifted his hands to his face and began tearing at the flesh with his fingernails but they had no affect on the itch. Blood dripped down his face and stained the tiled floor. He wiped his hands on his pants and dug through a bathroom drawer. Not finding what he needed, Shaun ripped the drawer from its slot and flipped it over onto the floor. The gleam caught his eye first. Scissors. Shaun looked down at his arms.

These spots. If I get rid of the spots, the itch goes away. If the itch goes away things will be better, he thought as he picked up the scissors. Shaun grabbed a red spot from his forearm and pulled it up. Angling the scissors, he applied pressure and heard the snip. A red spot fell onto the floor with a wet plop.

Standing there for a moment, Shaun focused on the spot where he just cut. There was pain but the itching had stopped on that part of his arm. He started pulling at other spots and snipping them off. He had his arms done before falling to the bathroom floor. He rolled in the pile of skin turning his face to the ceiling. The colors were off and the overhead light was dimmer than he remembered.

He stretched his arms outward, searching for something to put onto his arms. He found the floor rug and brought it close, wrapped it around him. His arms hurt but underneath the pain was a subtle itch. “Stop itching,” Shaun screamed. Throwing the rug off, he dug his nails into the holes and scratched. The smell wafted, gagging Shaun. He turned his head and retched.

The vomit pooled around him as he continued to retch. When there was nothing left to throw up Shaun sat up and leaned against the toilet. There was blood and vomit everywhere and it was seeping into his pants. Shaun ran his hand up the side of the counter and hoisted himself off the floor.

Shaun clung to the wall for support as he made his way to the living room. He sunk down into the couch and reached for the phone next to it. His fingers brushed the side of the phone, knocking it to the floor.

“Shit.” Shaun rolled off the couch to his hands and knees. The carpet scratched against his open wounds and made the itch worse. Shaun stopped searching for the phone and crawled back to the bathroom. The scissors dripped with vomit as he dug the point into one of the holes. Looking down at the bathroom floor, Shaun turned and made his way to the kitchen floor. He took off his shirt and lay on the linoleum floor. He dug the scissors deeper into is arms. Searching for relief.

*

Bill knocked and put his ear to the door, listening for a movement. Silence. He took out a few tools and stuck them into the lock. The door unlocked and he turned the knob. As he walked in he was met with the powerful stench of road kill. He clicked on the light had saw the pulpy mass of something. Stepping closer he could make out Shaun’s features. Turning, Bill closed the door and locked it. Searching through the cupboards he found a can of air-freshener and sprayed it above Shaun. The air smelled like decaying peaches. Satisfied, he stepped over Shaun and went into the bedroom. Coming out with a box full of books, Bill made his way to the door. He saw the medical book and a pair of keys. Grabbing them he added them to the box.

Bill walked out the door and locked it behind him.

Melanie Ekroth is a soon-to-be graduate of SMSU. She plans on pursuing further education, but in the special effects make-up field. She stands by the belief that it only makes sense to create gore from the bottom up.
	Shaun looked down at his right arm for the seventh time in the last hour and scratched at the small red mark on his forearm. The itch had become unbearable. He could do nothing but roll up his sleeve and itch his arm like a mad man. Several strange looks emerged from the faces of his co-workers sitting at the conference table with him. “Poison oak?” Jill asked as she pointed to the blotchy red spot. “No. It just itches.” “Whatever it is, you should see a doctor before we all catch it.” Jill was probably right, Shaun thought as he took the elevator to the parking garage. When the elevator opened the garage was pitch black except for the dim light from the security office. Shaun tapped on the window there was no one there. “Great,” Shaun thought to himself as he went in and searched for the light switches. There were three to choose from Shaun flipped them all. The lights brightened slowly starting at the end of the garage. Most of the garage was still dark but he wasn’t waiting and he could see his car. Shaun walked further into the darkened section of the garage. Strange little noises started to fill his head with visions of creatures that could possibly be making the noises. There was nothing he could do but walk a bit faster and hope to god it was just his imagination. Shaun reached his car and was searching his coat pocket for his keys when someone tapped his shoulder. He spun on the heels of his feet and came face to face with a small old man who was holding Shaun’s keys. “Drop these?” “I must of, thanks.” “No problem. Found them in the Security office by the switches. Stopped by the little boy’s room when no one was looking, you must have been the last one at the office.” “Yeah, thanks again.” Shaun said as he unlocked his door and slid into the driver’s seat. “Yep, you gottta be careful now a days with all those loonies out there. Can never be too careful. I always told my wife that. Always one to help out those in need. She was shot.” “Sorry to hear that, but it’s late…” “Yep, mugged and murdered in broad daylight. If I had been there I would’ve gutted that guy from navel to neck in a single swoop with this little number,” the old man said as he pulled out a knife. Shaun gave up being nice, closed his door and started his car, but not before waving to the old man. Work had been hell the past couple of weeks and the old guy in the parking garage just seemed to add stress. Shaun had attributed stress to the cause of the red itchy spots. The spots had all started out small but grew larger each night and the itch intensified as the spots grew. The previous night he woke up digging his fingernails into his arm where a red spot had appeared. He was able to stop himself but not before he removed bits of flesh from his forearm. There had been a horrid smell that had lingered, he went to the bathroom and cleaned up the holes. Once his arm was bandaged he had further inspected the bits of flesh under the florescent lighting of the bathroom. Small and blackened with a rotten smell. Shaun’s apartment was dark and uninviting as he walked through the sparsely furnished rooms. He went over to the refrigerator and looked inside to find something eatable. There was just never enough time anymore to get to the grocery store before it closed, he thought as he looked through the cupboards for food. Nothing. As Shaun grabbed the phone to call out for some Chinese, someone knocked on the front door. He could see Bill’s stubby warped body through the peephole in the door. Shaun opened the door. “Hey. Wondered if you saw the game last night.” Bill said as he inched closer to the door and Shaun. “What game was that? I didn’t think there was one on.” “Oh, I meant last week. The football game.” “Baseball?” “Yeah. Did you see it?” “No. Did you need something?” Bill dug through his pocket and took out a worn book. “I thought you might want this. It’s a medical book. With pictures.” Shaun humored Bill and leafed through the book before returning it. “I thought you might want to know what those red bumps are. I’ve narrowed it down to small pox or spider bites.” Shifting his weight on the door, Shaun inched his way back into the apartment. “You should really put some cream on those before you tear your skin off.” “Yeah, thanks. I gotta go.” “Alright, take this and look through it more. Just don’t lose my bookmarks.” Shaun closed the door and put the book on the kitchen counter. Bill wasn’t the person he had wanted to talk to at the moment. Work was hell and Jill was on his case. He didn’t need stalker wannabe Bill coming around offering help. In a sort of sick way, the spots created an escape from the world and all that mattered was the sweet relief that followed after each scratch. Shaun felt the itch creep up. He was so concentrated on reaching relief from the itch that he barely noticed the pain until he stopped. His white carpet had several small pools of blood scattered upon it. Odd smells filled the room as he stuck his fingers deep into the flesh of his arm. God, what the hell is that smell, Shaun thought to himself as he smelled his fingers. Smells of rotten beef and rancid clotted blood drove him to the bath room to retrieve some vapor rub to put under his nose. The vapor rub didn’t do much good because even after washing his hands he could still smell the rottenness upon them and the smell transferred to the vapor rub. Shaun looked into the mirror; his face was pale and covered in blood and more red spots. “How am I going to cover these up.” he said out loud as he touched and poked the blotches on his face. He fell to his knees as the fiery inching sensation filled his face. Shaun lifted his hands to his face and began tearing at the flesh with his fingernails but they had no affect on the itch. Blood dripped down his face and stained the tiled floor. He wiped his hands on his pants and dug through a bathroom drawer. Not finding what he needed, Shaun ripped the drawer from its slot and flipped it over onto the floor. The gleam caught his eye first. Scissors. Shaun looked down at his arms. These spots. If I get rid of the spots, the itch goes away. If the itch goes away things will be better, he thought as he picked up the scissors. Shaun grabbed a red spot from his forearm and pulled it up. Angling the scissors, he applied pressure and heard the snip. A red spot fell onto the floor with a wet plop. Standing there for a moment, Shaun focused on the spot where he just cut. There was pain but the itching had stopped on that part of his arm. He started pulling at other spots and snipping them off. He had his arms done before falling to the bathroom floor. He rolled in the pile of skin turning his face to the ceiling. The colors were off and the overhead light was dimmer than he remembered. He stretched his arms outward, searching for something to put onto his arms. He found the floor rug and brought it close, wrapped it around him. His arms hurt but underneath the pain was a subtle itch. “Stop itching,” Shaun screamed. Throwing the rug off, he dug his nails into the holes and scratched. The smell wafted, gagging Shaun. He turned his head and retched. The vomit pooled around him as he continued to retch. When there was nothing left to throw up Shaun sat up and leaned against the toilet. There was blood and vomit everywhere and it was seeping into his pants. Shaun ran his hand up the side of the counter and hoisted himself off the floor. Shaun clung to the wall for support as he made his way to the living room. He sunk down into the couch and reached for the phone next to it. His fingers brushed the side of the phone, knocking it to the floor. “Shit.” Shaun rolled off the couch to his hands and knees. The carpet scratched against his open wounds and made the itch worse. Shaun stopped searching for the phone and crawled back to the bathroom. The scissors dripped with vomit as he dug the point into one of the holes. Looking down at the bathroom floor, Shaun turned and made his way to the kitchen floor. He took off his shirt and lay on the linoleum floor. He dug the scissors deeper into is arms. Searching for relief. * Bill knocked and put his ear to the door, listening for a movement. Silence. He took out a few tools and stuck them into the lock. The door unlocked and he turned the knob. As he walked in he was met with the powerful stench of road kill. He clicked on the light had saw the pulpy mass of something. Stepping closer he could make out Shaun’s features. Turning, Bill closed the door and locked it. Searching through the cupboards he found a can of air-freshener and sprayed it above Shaun. The air smelled like decaying peaches. Satisfied, he stepped over Shaun and went into the bedroom. Coming out with a box full of books, Bill made his way to the door. He saw the medical book and a pair of keys. Grabbing them he added them to the box. Bill walked out the door and locked it behind him.