The Nightmare

The ceiling tore itself open like a mouth gaping wide, and the wood and paint debris fell like sticky drool, as if they were squid’s arms extending to grab Sandy.

Help!

Sandy couldn’t move. He was stuck in his bed. He tried to rise but his back seemed to be too heavy; his arms, for no reason, wouldn’t move. Terror was eating him before the ceiling could.

The ceiling hole was nearing Sandy’s body. The debris didn’t act only like squid’s arms, they now looked as if they were fangs of this fearful gorge. Sandy could see the insides of the ceiling itself, but he saw nothing of the attic of the house that was supposed to be above that very ceiling. Instead he could see the night sky, riddled with stars, calm and quiet. It seemed like a consoling sight, if he could just be sure that the orifice was not going to chew him to pieces.

The room windows banged.

And Sandy wakes up, with the windows still banging, along with the door being continuously slammed; and there is the ceiling, still shuddering. But no hole, no monster.

There is a storm. It’s a nightmare, alright. No need for Sandy’s monster.

Sandy feels wet.

He looks at the window by his bed. The rain has been sprinkling on him for some time, no thanks to the poor fastening of his windows. He reaches for the windows.

He can’t.

His upper back feels heavy. And awfully painful. Very, very painful.

Sandy gasps.

Help!

“Okamoto, you alright?” a voice from outside the room asked in a crescendo.

“No! Help me, man! My back hurts!”

The owner of the other voice comes inside Sandy’s room. Ned is carrying his sword, as he is on his way to the office. He stands beside Sandy’s bed and not knowing exactly what to do, hovers his arms above Sandy. He finally places his right arm behind Sandy’s back. Sandy cries in pain.

“What’s wrong?”

“Don’t touch my back!”

Ned recoils his arm.

“Turn me on my back, man, and call the doctor…” Sandy was tiring from the pain.

Ned, confused, heads out the door and looks for a doctor.

Sandy looks sideways, sees the open door, slamming and opening, and tries to make for it. Slowly, gaspingly, he crawls, and falls from his bed.

A louder cry.

Clem and Denis come by the door and see their comrade. They rush to help him, carrying him by his arms. Agony once more.

“What’s wrong Sandy?” asks Denis.

“Get me to a hospital, guys…” panted Sandy.

“You’ve got to lie down for now,” says Clem.

“No! it’s my back that’s killing me!”

“Alright, alright!” Clem looks for the main door. “Where’s Ned?”

“He’s gone to look for a doctor,” whispers Sandy.

“I’ll call for Doctor Ansashi,” remarks Denis, and he leaves. Ned goes too, leaving Clem with Sandy.

Clem makes his friend lie on the floor on his back. He can see Sandy gasping for air, and feels sorry about it, but the man can’t tolerate lying properly, because his back is the problem.

“Hey, Clem,” gasps Sandy.

“Yeah?”

“Promise me you’ll take care of her.”

“Man, you’re not dying.”

“Oh yes, I am.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Just promise me.”

“I’ve always taken care of your sister.”

“This might change things. I’m not sure—“

Sandy has hardly spoken his second thought when blood suddenly stains the cloth over his back. Sandy cries out again. Clem is shocked, as the blood stain grows larger and larger. He watches in disbelief as Sandy’s back swells.

Then, the horror.

Something is bulging on Sandy’s back. Clem is unsure as to what it is, but he grabs a pocket knife and slices into Sandy’s clothes.

“Arghh!!! What are you doing?!” yells Sandy.

“Something’s coming out of your back, man!”

Sandy faints.

“Crap,” mutters Clem, shuddering from the sight.

It was not some animal, or some strange automaton lodged in his friend’s back. It was flesh. Sandy’s own. Slowly, whatever it is, it came out like some finger or knee protruding from the wrong place. And then…

Feathers.

Bloody feathers.

“Oh, God,” and Clem crawls away with his butt, and crosses himself.

The flesh has fully emerged from Sandy’s back, covered with bloodied feathers. And there was not just one.

Wings. How about that.

Clem has not recovered from his shock when the other two friends return with the doctor. Now it is their turn to be awed and horrified.

“Is he still alive?” Dr. Ansashi whispers.

“I don’t know.”

The young doctor tries to compose himself, and though still shaken by the sight, thinks of a way to wake himself out of this. “Let’s move him out of here. He’s lost much blood,” he says.

“We can’t let other people see him like this,” replied Clem.

“We can cover him with a blanket,” says Denis. “I’ll get it.” He makes for a nearby bedroom. “There’s a cot here!”

They take the cot, and load their friend in it.

Denis unfurls the blanket over Sandy.

They leave for Ansashi’s office.

***

The three friends transfer their patient into one of the clinic’s beds, while the doctor prepares his linen.

“Let’s just wipe the blood off his back.”

Ansashi hurls pieces of cloth to Ned and Denis, who take them and start wiping the blood and grime.

“Aren’t we cutting them off?” asks Clem, who is watching from a distance, still horrified.

“We can’t, Clem,” replies the doctor. “He’s lost too much blood already to even survive the next hour.” The doctor peeks into the part of the back where the wings protruded. There’s still blood seeping. “Besides, the wings seem to share in his blood. Cutting them off might produce enough shock to kill him.” He looks again at his patient’s friends. “You might want to call his mother, or his sister.”

Ned grins. “Clem can do that. He’s Sandy’s brother-in-law, right?”

Clem’s face goes red. He goes out.

Sandy sleeps steadily. He’s still breathing, even though his breath is very faint.

Ansashi starts to clean up the room. Ned helps him. Meanwhile, Denis takes out a rosary from his pocket and settles on a stool. Himself ill with a strange disease, the effort of carrying his friend through even a short distance proved to be taxing. He clutches his rosary and mutters his prayers.

Ned whispers to Ansashi. “Is Sandy going to be alright?”

Ansashi looks sadly at his helper.