The_Demons_Wife_ARC by Rick Hautala Page B

saw that he wasn’t sitting on the
toilet, she swung the door all the way open.
    The bathroom
was empty.
    But the shower
curtain was drawn.
    Is he in
there?…Getting ready to take a shower?…Or maybe hiding…planning to jump out and
give me a scare?
    She entered
the bathroom cautiously, approaching the closed shower curtain. The linoleum
floor was damp, and her bare feet squeaked on it. Her body was tense, and she
told herself she was ready for anything as she got ready to slide the shower
curtain open. Her hand wavered only slightly as she gripped the plastic edge,
balling it up in her fist.
    Holding her
breath, she mentally counted to three and then ran the shower curtain open.
    The sound of
the plastic rings sliding along the metal bar set her teeth on edge, but when she
saw what was inside, she realized that she wasn’t ready for anything…
    Because
there…in the tub…was…something.
    “What the…”
she muttered, so shocked at first that she didn’t realize that the
thing—whatever it was—was moving.
    Only then did
she hear the faint buzzing sounds coming from it. At least she assumed the
sounds were coming from it. Once she keyed into the sound, it rose steadily in
volume…a loud buzzing sound of…
    Bees…or flies.
    The lighting
in the bathroom was never that good, even at noon with the ceiling light on, so
she leaned forward and stared at the thing on the floor of the shower.
    That’s when
she realized it really was moving…a writhing ball of…something…something that
was so rotten it was swarming with flies. She leaned closer, and the pungent
stench of decaying meat hit her like a body blow to the stomach.
    “What in the
name of…”
    At first she
thought someone might have dropped a piece of steak or hamburger or something
in the shower where it had rotted and drawn flies.
    But that
didn’t make sense.
    And where did
all these flies come from?
    It was March.
The apartment windows were closed tight. They might have been wintering in the
attic or maybe in one of the other tenants’ apartments, but how did they get in
here?
    Her initial
panic began to subside only to be replaced with a wave of nausea as she watched
the houseflies crawling over the rotting thing. It was the size of a meatloaf,
and tufts of slimy fur poked through the red and black flesh. She knew it
couldn’t have been, but it looked like it had been here for days…maybe weeks.
Her stomach lurched, and the joints of her jaw started to ache.
    She knew what
was coming next.
    Holding her
breath and trying not to inhale that rancid smell, she let go of the shower
curtain and backed away from the tub. After a few steps back, she pivoted on
her heel and dropped to her knees. Clasping both sides of the toilet bowl, she
leaned her head down just in time before her stomach heaved.
    The first hot
blast of vomit hit the water in the toilet bowl so hard it splashed back into
her face. But she ignored that as her stomach convulsed several times, and more
streams of vomit shot from her mouth. The joints of her jaw were throbbing now,
and the sick stench of vomit made her want to heave all the more until there
was nothing left in her stomach to throw up.
    Behind her,
she was aware of activity. Her first thought was that Samael—wherever he had
been—had heard her getting sick and come to help her. She wanted to look up to
see if he was standing there behind her, but she couldn’t stop vomiting.
    Through her
sickness, though, she realized that it might not be Samael behind her. The
buzzing sound of the flies grew unbearably loud, and when her stomach finally
settled enough for her to turn and look, she was amazed to see a cloud of
houseflies flying in a swirling tornado-like formation, moving behind the
shower stall and banging into it hard enough to make the plastic jump.
    Her throat was
burning as she covered her mouth with the flat of her hand to block the scream
that threatened to burst from her.  She watched in mute horror as the