Liam Hall

Wednesday, March 23rd, 2022 (1 day after the Shutdown)

It hurts. Why does it hurt so much?

Floating in darkness, he was deprived of all of his senses; his auditory perception and his sense of touch felt like they were in stasis.

Is this what death is? It’s so… peaceful. So why does it hurt?

A window of light expanded in front of him and he found himself in a new setting. Blinking away the stars in his eyes, he frowned, realizing his vision was blurry as if he was looking through a veil.

The intricate details of objects were obscured, but he could recognize the nightstand beside the twin bed and the ancient dresser in the corner from anywhere.

He was home.

Not his new one but the one he grew up in for most of his life.

Taking a lap of the room he sat down on the bed still trying to comprehend how he got here.

“Liam, come down for breakfast,” a voice cried from downstairs.

Mom?

Getting up from his bed, he felt his stature shorten as if the cogs of time were rewinding. He was a child again, the trials of adulthood swept away by blissful ignorance.

Walking down the stairs, he saw his father hidden behind the morning paper, a stack of eggs and pancakes on the plate in front of him.

He couldn’t disturb his father. It was his special time of the day.

“Liam, why are you so late this morning,” his mother chided, her back still facing him. “Your pancakes will get cold.”

“Heather, it’s time for him to learn some responsibility. Let him be.”

The morning rays were streaming through the kitchen window. As he sat down at the breakfast table, a cloud of dust rose from his chair, swirling in the sunlight. Liam softly giggled.

“Honey, is the excavator job paying you well?” his mother asked his father.

“Yes, dear. There are even talks of getting a promotion,” his father jovially replied, engrossed in the contents of the morning paper.

“Oh, that’s wonderful to hear!”

His mother put a fresh set of bacon on the stove top and the hissing of the oil and the smell of the burning fat wafted through the small room.

Happily munching on the pancakes in front of him, he poured a large glob of maple syrup on top of them, mesmerized as it cascaded down the side of them.

Unable to hold onto the bottle, it slipped from his hand and came crashing down onto his plate. Pancakes and maple syrup fell onto the kitchen floor, making a loud racket.

“Sorry!” he apologized, running out of the kitchen to grab a towel. “I’ll clean it up!”

When he came back, nothing had changed. His father was still reading the newspaper and his mother was making breakfast. Silently glad they hadn’t gotten upset yet, he worked hard to make sure the mess was nicely cleaned up.

Running out of the kitchen, he threw the sticky towel into the hamper and came back into the kitchen.

Something was burning.

“Mom, I think the bacon is burning,” he called out, sitting back down in his chair.

His mother had not moved to take the bacon off the skillet.

Maybe she likes it burnt. Occupying himself with the floating dust, the smell of smoke grew stronger, until it set off the smoke detector.

“Mom!” he yelled, trying to get her attention. She ignored him.

Jumping off his seat he ran to the stove, turning it off.

“Mom, what are you —”

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

His eyes widened as he looked up at her. In place of the soft creases on her forehead and the dimples, all Liam saw was a blank face. She had no eyes, no mouth, or nose, only pale skin stretched over everything, like a mask. A small fire broke out in the pan, but Liam didn’t move to extinguish it, his eyes locked onto the creature that had called itself his mother.

Stumbling away, he ran to his father to warn him but as soon as looked past the newspaper, the same faceless creature stared at him. The fire in the pan grew larger, feeding on the wooden cabinets around it.

Liam broke into tears, crying out for his parents to help him. Where were they? Why did they leave him?

The two creatures moved towards him to console him, making him cry only harder.

Fire from the pan started to consume the entire kitchen slowly burning the two creatures. And yet the creature that called itself his mother reached out a hand as the fire wrapped around her.

“I’m sorry, Liam. I’m so sorry.”

The fire burnt the last of her away.

“Mom?”

He was thrust back into the black void.

“Don’t bother calling for them. They won’t answer the one who killed them,” a cold and monotone voice ridiculed him.

“Who are you? I-I tried to save them… I—”

“Right…” the voice mocked. “And yet they’ve been taken and you… Somehow, you’re still here in their place.”

“The plane crash killed them…”

A soft tutting filled the void. “No. No, the plane might have set the house on fire but they were alive when you entered that house. Your father was still breathing and you ignored him and fled.”

Memories of his father’s crushed skull disappeared and were replaced with images of him trapped under a burning beam, pleading with Liam to save him.

“Please… stop it,” he cried, grasping his head.

A silhouette looked down at him with disgust. “Stop it? How? Should I lie to you? Would that help you justify your actions, maybe give you closure? The woman you abandoned at the store, do you remember her? She’s dead now. Your parents’ deaths were warranted.”

Lurching forward, it clasped Liam by his arms and started crushing them. Leaning forward until its face was practically touching him, it smiled ominously, its white teeth glowing in the dark. “By the time I'm done with you, even the demons that shall descend in a moon's turn will not scare you. I’ll help set your mind straight.”

Snap. Liam’s arms erupted in agony as the figure walked into the gloom. Wailing in pain, the world around him erupted into fire and he lost consciousness.

Tuesday, March 29th, 2022 (A week after the Shutdown)

When he finally came to, his head was pounding, his throat was parched, and a throbbing pain reminded him of his burns. He tried to push himself up but his bones felt brittle like they were toothpicks.

Slumping back onto his sweat-soaked cot, Liam tilted his head to the side he was met with a familiar sight. The snow-white tarps of the tents he’d seen outside the neighborhood had replaced the familiar blue of the sky. Why?

His arms and waist had been wrapped in layers of gauze, parts of it crusted over with blood. He tried to call out but his voice had vanished. His body screamed with pain and he couldn’t do anything to stop it. Admitting defeat he let his body go limp and grudgingly accepted his fate.

For the past few days, the Creature had constantly visited him, ridiculing his broken form. It would only leave him when Liam began blubbering; pleading like a child for it to leave him alone.

And though Liam couldn’t tell if this was its intention, during that time something had awoken in him.

An insatiable hunger, but for what Liam couldn't say. All he felt was a constant frustration at himself and everything around him.

Hearing the crunching of gravel draw closer, he watched a shadow loom over him.

It was the man he had pushed over at the gate.

“Look who’s awake. We had to move you away from the rest of the injured because of how much you were screaming."

Liam ignored him and turned his head away.

“That’s no way to thank someone who saved your life.”

“You saved my life?” Liam responded skeptically, peeking at the one through the corner of his eye.

“Yeah, we found you passed out on the road and I personally carried you here.”

“... Thank you…”

“Ha! No problem. Didn’t think it was possible for you to thank someone.”

“What about my mother? She… she should have been on the road beside me,” he choked, not wanting to place too much hope in the idea.

“...”

His silence was enough. Through the flap in the tent, he saw an orange sunset had replaced the burning sky from the day his mother died, sending colors dancing across the evening sky as it kissed the horizon.

People around him were joking and laughing, seemingly unaffected by the massacre in the neighborhood. It was as if the world was at peace. This isn’t right. How can they be happy? The world should be hollow and cold.

“I’m sorry. She was dead before we got to her.”

Liam gave him a humorless smile. “Think you can help me get up?”

Looking at him quizzically, he shook his head. “No can do, sorry. Your burns are severe enough without you getting them infected. You should take another week of bed rest.”

“I was asking you as a courtesy,” he spat back.

Frowning at the swift change in Liam’s behavior, he shook his head. “Yeah, but look at what happened the last time you ignored someone.”

Liam wheeled around, ready to snap the man’s pudgy neck, but his fatigued body protested the decision and gave out from under him. Realizing what he’d said, the man scratched his head awkwardly.

To hell with you.

Summoning the last of his strength and swung his legs over the side of the cot, murder on his mind. Even awake he could hear the Creature’s laughter.

Wait for me.