The Turning of Dick Condon Read online

  The light in the hall cut through the darkness of the room, illuminating two bare legs hanging down the front of a copying machine. Drew’s body from the waist up hid in shadow. Richard entered the room and closed the door.

  “Mmmmmmuuhhh,” Richard felt an urge to speak, but didn’t understand why.

  “Mmmmmm right back at you, baby. I was getting worried and beginning to think you had forgotten about our date. Now, come on over here and make up for it,” Drew said.

  Richard lumbered in the darkness with outstretched arms, grabbing onto one of her wrists, and searching with his other hand until he found the other.

  “Oh, I like a man that takes what he wants,” she said with excitement.

  It was her irresistible smell that so captivated him now. The smell of fresh meat. He plunged his head forward and tore into her delicate neck with his teeth.

  The sudden shock of his attack left her unable to cry out, that and the fact that he crushed her larynx on the second chomp. Drew succumbed to merciful death barely letting out a gasp.

  Richard enjoyed her body in a way as never before. Feasting on the flesh that he used to kiss and caress. He ate until the there was nothing left, driving him out of the copy room to find his next meal.

  Andy sat at his desk with his IPOD buds shoved deep into his ears and banged out a drum solo with a pencil in each hand on imaginary drums. A half-eaten cheese sandwich and a bag of chips lay abandoned on his desk.

  Andy caught a glimpse of Richard’s back as he was leaving the office. The clock read fifteen minutes to one. Andy jerked out his ear buds and ran after Richard.

  “Hey, Dick Condom. You can’t leave now. Lunch is almost over and you need to get back to work. Mr. Jenkins is going to be upset if I tell him you’re taking half a day off.”

  Richard turned and faced Andy.

  “Good God man, are you sick?” Andy cringed, and stepped backward.

  Drew’s splattered blood covered Richard’s face and clothing. He reached out a bloody hand and shambled forward.

  Andy turned to run but ended up tripping on his own feet. His head hit the stainless steel trimming on his cubical door. Consciousness momentarily faded to black, returning with the full weight of Richard on his back, and deadly teeth gnawing through his skull.

  Richard dined on Andy’s brains through the screaming, giving him a certain satisfaction beyond quenching his hunger. After the final death shiver, the dead body no longer held interest, but at least left him feeling satiated for the moment.

  Richard left the office building into a world of chaos. The surroundings blared with sirens as squad cars, ambulances, and fire trucks maneuvered around traffic. The vehicles contained food, but moved too fast for him to catch any.

  As he lurched in front of Café Coffee, something familiar about the façade brought pause. He turned to the door and tried to pull it open without any luck. Then instinctively, he pushed on the door handle and entered.

  “Hello, what can I get—Oh my God!” Judy gasped. “Mr. Condom, what happened to you? Do you need me to call a doctor?”

  ‘Con-don,’ echoed in Richard’s head. Something about what she called him stoked his anger. It compelled him to make a sound with his mouth, but couldn’t remember how, or even why. It didn’t matter, his jaws ached to masticate, his teeth eager to tear flesh off bone.

  The undead man advancing had Judy backed against the wall. “Mr. Condom, you’re not well. You need to stay away from me. Back off!” She grabbed a coffee decanter from its station and slammed it into Richard’s skull as his hands reached her throat. Glass shards and hot coffee went flying through the air and cut a nasty gash across his cheek.

  The coffee on his face mixed with blood squirting out of Judy’s jugular as Richard set out to satisfy his insatiable urge to bite, chew, and eat. He ate mindlessly until all flesh was nearly gone and returned to the outside world.

  The sunlight slowly faded to hungry, black low hanging clouds. Dark-gray skies dominated to the west as the winds brought in cooler moist air. A beacon of fading intent pulled at him, drawing him to a destination that eluded his conscious mind.

  The rains fell in buckets from above, washing blood and bits of flesh caked on his face and clothing. The line of cars passing viewed him as just another poor soul caught in the rain without an umbrella.

  Richard came upon a woman in her car texting on her phone. The traffic light showed green. Overwhelming anger once again took control.

  He slammed his fist into the driver’s side window. His college graduation ring reduced the safety glass into a thousand pieces. The woman’s face lit up in surprise as the glass fell into her lap.

  He grabbed her by the hair, snatched the phone from her hand, and tossed it to the street.

  The woman’s foot lifted off the brake pedal as Richard tugged to extract her through the broken window. The vehicle started moving forward, and slowed as Richard’s strength now countered via the woman’s neck. Her scream rose proportionally to the amount of tension he exerted, and came to an abrupt halt as Richard gave one mighty jerk. The head detached from her body. The annoying thing finally went silent.

  The car moved forward again, coming to stop against a power line pole across the highway.

  Richard continued his walk, one foot forward, then the next, slowly, methodically. Unaware that he still had the woman’s head in his grasp, he moved toward a destination that was nothing more than an urge from within. Block, after block, street after street. The darkness the rain clouds brought hid him in plain sight. He meandered through puddles, wet grass, and mud. Sheets of rain cascaded over him.

  A black SUV in a driveway struck a chord of familiarity. The synapses in his brain misfired, searching for an answer. No answer was there. Reason eluded him once again.

  Still, he veered from the road and shuffled up the driveway. Lightning crashed illuminating his pale white complexion and the dark rings that surrounded his eyes. His brooding silhouette moved across the garage wall as he walked up to the back door and turned the knob.

  Marge was at the stove sautéing onions and garlic when she heard the door squeak open behind her. It followed with the sound of the pouring rain, and then the door closed. Vegetables sizzled in the following silence.

  The clock on the microwave read six-thirty-two. Not bothering to turn around and acknowledge her husband, she shook her head and made an ‘I told you so’ smirk. “Well, if it’s not Mr. Right on time.” She gave a vengeful chuckle. “I told you, you would forget to pick up Rhonda.”

  Richard looked about the kitchen. It all felt familiar and yet so distant. The woman’s words echoed, ‘I told you, you would forget,’ over and over in his head.

  Then, the last sentient thought Richard would ever have again flashed in his mind, That damn woman is always right.

  Richard embraced her from behind, ate her, and was never bothered by anything else ever again in his undead existence.

  The End

  From Severed PRESS

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