Reigniting the Passion

Monday 23rd
“It might look alive, it might sound alive, but dead things will always smell dead.”
The early morning ramblings of a crazed man, so lost in his own world I wondered if he even knew he was speaking aloud.
His frantic eyes showed the wear and tear of a battle fought inside his mind, driving him further from this reality.
“What is ‘it’?”
“They have no name, no special features, no distinction besides their smell. They’re coming for me, they’re coming for you too.”
“Why are they coming for us?”
“They’re coming to take our souls.”
A pair of hands grabbed my shoulders, pulling me from the warning.
“Alright Sash, enough fraternizing with the street people.”
Fernando continued pushing me down the sidewalk, farther from a deranged mans world.
“You know, it’s very rude to call them that, they’re just people.”
“Listen,” Taking his hands from my shoulders, his tall frame falling into step with mine. “I’m not telling you to call them that, that’s just the name they were designated before we were even born. They’ve made a thriving life for themselves on the streets. It’s not a bad thing.”
My eyes rolled to the heavens at the response.
“Then why was I not allowed to fraternize?”
“Because he’s some fucking religious crazy man Sascha, ‘they’re coming to take our souls’.”
“Well you can’t make a snap judgment like that, you only caught the tail end of the conversation.”
With a sigh he shook his head.
“You make me wonder why I even talk to you woman.”
“Because I’m the only ray of sunshine in your otherwise dark, depressing world.”
“Sunshine, right. So sunshine, what was he talking about if it wasn’t something religious?”
“He,” the distraught man’s words of warning replayed in my mind. “It’s not important. I’m not entirely sure he was right in the head.”
Tuesday 14th
Distractedly I walked through the corridor of my apartment complex, making my way to the elevator.
I’m so, bored.
I’ve done nothing the past few weeks besides work.
What fun is that?
I’m at the prime of my life! I should be out partying, or at the very least going to the movies.
Maybe I should see if Fernando wants to hang out.
We could go see-
“Miss?”
“Pardon?”
“The elevator?”
“Oh, right! Sorry!” Quickly I shuffled in, nodding at the gentleman already inside.
“What floor?”
“Thirteen please.”
Jesus. You’re in public Sascha, stay out of your head.
Slowly the elevator doors enclosed me in the small space, encompassing me in a putrid, rotten smell.
Dead god, what is that?
It smells like something died.
An awkward smile forced itself onto my face as the man looked back.
Was I making noise?
Did I gag?
What if that’s him? What if I made him feel bad?
“Have a good night.”
“You too.”
Eagerly I left the elevator, hoping the horrendous smell wouldn’t follow me.
Forget the movies, I’ll stay home tonight, let the elevator have some time to air out.
Thursday 23rd
The aroma of stale coffee and harsh cleaners filled the break room.
“Hey Sascha, long day?”
“Why did you take so long?” My puppy dog stare fell on uninterested eyes.
“I was on the phone with a customer, I can’t hang up on them just because you want to take your lunch break.”
I watched in silence as he pulled his food from the fridge.
Another day of left over spaghetti it seems.
“Hey, did they ever get that smell out of your elevator?”
Absent mindedly I picked at my sandwhich.
“I guess so, when I got in it the next morning it was like it was never there.”
“Maybe it was that guy after all,” I cringed while watching him eat his cold noodles before waving his fork around. “could’ve had something on his shoe. You know how dirty the streets are.”
“Yeah, I suppose.” I chewed my food, already dismissing the event. “You wanna go see a movie tonight? We haven’t been for a while.”
“Sure. What movie were you thinking?”
“Something scary.”
The smell of coffee and cleaners slowly dissipated, being replaced by a scent that made my nose bunch.
“Do you smell that?”
“Smell what?”
It came closer, grew stronger.
“I think your spaghetti is bad, it reeks.”
Confused, he lifted his food container and sniffed before shaking his head. “Smells fine.”
“Hey guys, what’s up?”
“Hey Margo.”
I briefly glanced over, too immersed in finding the scent.
“You seriously can’t smell that?”
Fernando turned his nose to the air. “I can smell Margo’s new perfume. Smells good.”
“Thank you. I just got it the other day, it was on sale.” She sniffed her wrist with a smile before continuing to pour her coffee.
“No, no. Not that. It smells like something died, like in the elevator.”
“I think you need to go to the doctor.” The sarcasm in his voice went unappreciated.
“Smelling rotting flesh definitely isn’t normal.” With a smile our coworker sipped her coffee and left.
“I don’t need to go to the doctor.” Carefully I took another shallow breath. “Oh thank god. It’s gone.”
“It was never here.”
Unfazed, he finished his meal.
“So, loverboy, you know what kind of perfume Margo wears huh?”
“Do not start Sascha.”
“When are you going to ask her out?”
“When are you going to check into the psych ward?”
I made a face at his aggressive response.
“Smelling-” My coworkers words suddenly made a connection. “Wait, did Margo say rotting flesh?”
A sinking feeling invaded my stomach as his brow arched. “Yeah. Why?”
“How did she know I was smelling rotting flesh?”
“You said it smelled like something died,” With a stretch he stood. “Usually people mean rotting flesh when they say that.”
Though the words spoken made sense, they weren’t very reassuring.
Wednesday 29th
“It might look alive, it might sound alive, but dead things will always smell dead.”
I woke with a start, my body drenched in sweat.
His words played over and over in my mind, a tape stuck on repeat, bringing a terrifying sense of understanding along with them.
“For fucks sake Sascha, maybe you do need to go to the doctor.”
Groggily I rose from the bed, trying to shake the feeling of false clarity.
“You’re just sick, not gaining some paranormal power.”
Quickly I dressed and ran out the door, already late for work.
One face, one sundamaged, aging face stood out in the sea of people.
“Don’t see me, please don’t see me.”
My brisk walk turned into a light job in the hopes of steering clear of the crazed man.
“Wait!”
Just ignore him.
“They’ve found you Sascha! They’re coming!”
My steps faltered as I glanced back.
They’ve found me.
-----
“That’s what that crazy bastard was telling you? That’s why you’ve been so paranoid and smelling things?”
Fernando laughed at my obvious discomfort.
“He knew my name.”
“He heard me say it the other day.” I watched as my best friend told my story to Margo, finding humor in my oncoming peril.
If I was just paranoid, why was the smell of rotting flesh still emanating from her body?
Knowing eyes locked with mine. “What is ‘it’ Sascha?”
You. “I don’t know.” You’re it.
Friday 31st
I shouldn’t be doing this, I should just go home.
There’s no point in looking for this man.
It’s all in my head anyways, non of this is real.
You’re just overly paranoid like Fernando said.
“Sascha, what brings you by this beautiful morning?”
The smell, god the smell.
That same knowing smile that spread across my coworkers face now painted his.
“What’s wrong?’
Searching the streets nervously I avoided his gaze, avoided his eyes that seemed far too clear, the once crazed haze lifted.
“It’s, it’s nothing. I was just passing through.”
From my peripheral I could see his knowing smile turn into one of malice.
“Can you smell it? The smell of death?”
His laugh echoed through my being as I ran.
They were coming for me.
They were coming for my soul.
Saturday 1st
“Why weren’t you at work yesterday?”
I paced my apartment, clutching the phone to my ear.
“I didn’t feel good. How, how was Margo?”
“Funny you should ask.” I could hear his smile through the phone. “We’re going on a date tonight.”
My heart beat irregularly at the comment.
“You can’t.”
“What? Why? You just told me the other day to ask her out.”
Panic overtook my rational thinking.
“You can’t Fernando! It’s going to get you!”
“Jesus Christ Sascha, are you kidding me right now?”
“Please don’t go! Please!!”
An annoyed sigh silenced my words.
“Why don’t you get some sleep, you’re obviously still delusional from being sick. And stop fucking taking that crazy assholes words to heart.”
Defeat raced through me as the dial tone blared in my ear.
“Please, don’t go.”
Monday 10th
I’ve hoarded myself in my apartment.
They’ve come here searching for me now.
I can smell them through the door, hear them calling my name.
My sanity is hanging by a thread.
Mom, my mom called me for help but I don’t know if I can trust her.
I have to chance it, I can’t leave her to these monsters.
The smell of rotting flesh follows me, my senses now dulled to the stench, no longer making me grimace in disgust.
They’re everywhere.
Watching.
Waiting for a reaction.
“Sascha.”
The man I once found crazy, now just a character, a ploy.
“I’m busy.”
Unhindered I continued forward, leaving a distance between myself and that creature.
“Sascha! Where have you been? I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for over a week!”
He sounds normal.
He sounds okay.
“Fernando-”
The odor hit me before he reached my side.
“What’s wrong Sash? You look scared.”
They got him.
They got Fernando.
The friend I had considered family was gone forever, and I had no idea why.
Hastily my feet ran me towards my mother’s.
She had to be okay.
She had to still be herself.
“Mom! Momma open up!”
Ever so slowly the handle turned, my mother’s once loving smile replaced with a malevolent grin, the usual familiar scent of roses and vanilla overpowered by a repulsive stench.
Tears began to stream down my face.
“Momma.”
Barely choking the word out the body previously occupied by my mom hugged me.
A sudden lucidness overtaking me.
I see it now. What they want, why they’re here, why they stalk us until we feel ourselves slipping into madness.
They’re here to eat our souls, consume our very beings until all that’s left is a flesh shell they can control.
To walk among the living with a façade of normalcy, keeping up the lives of the hose they devoured until they’re hungry again, until the body they’ve take over begins to rot. Until they find a new body to take over, someone that can smell them, that believes in their existence.
That’s when they begin to stalk their prey, slowly driving us mad, our crazed souls a delicacy.
They fight over us, over our bodies, over our souls.
It’s all they do, the only thing we need.
Our only purpose.