VESSELS
By Joe Jablonski


Only something concerning a woman could have put me in that situation. I had never done anything like what I was about to do in my usually boring life, but I would lose her if I didn’t.

Mali had just been diagnosed with Mercer’s disease. There’s no cure. It’s only been a few months and already her body was deteriorating right before my eyes. She was fine until the Doctor told her. It’s as if the disease just needed acknowledgement to start working.

Now, she’s in the final stages. They say it won’t be long.

Her flesh and tissue were turning black and dying underneath skin which hung off her flesh like cloth. She’s constantly screaming because of the pain. Every day it got worse and I didn’t think I could handle it anymore.

***

So there I was, hiding out from the cops in a dilapidated warehouse. The pale illumination of the city beyond, fighting its way through the long boarded up windows was my only light.

A small dried up husk of an old man was lying tied up beside me. I was going to kill him. But it didn’t matter, he wasn’t human anyway. He’s nothing but a mold, a vessel genetically grown for the Mer’daai; mist like parasites who possess and live in those empty shells of man substitute. The Mer’daai within was the only chance I had for saving Mali.

The Mer’daai’s vessels never get sick; they keep them pure.

“You need to stop this.”

Ignoring him, I continued my preparations by placing two clamps in his mouth. They’re connected by tiny wires to a containment field generator shaped like a three inch silver ring. It hovered just above his lips. “This is not going to not work out the way you want it to.” He said in a maddeningly calm voice. He wasn’t even trying of fight against his restraints.

I pulled a pistol from my belt and held it against his temple. He just looked at it incredulously and chuckled. It sounded like a wheeze from his old frail voice. “You think that thing means anything to me?”

“Consider it a mercy that I’m using the gun first.” I didn’t want to do it. But I was going to. I was just hoping I got it right. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and pulled the trigger. The vessel went limp against the floor.

I quickly pulled a large syringe of Systic acid off the table beside me and drove it into his heart. It only took a few seconds before the body began to disintegrate. At that moment, the corpses’ eyes and mouth stretched open to their widest. His eyes were freckled with tiny, baby blue spots; the tell-tale sign of possession. His throat was making a sound something like vocal cords ripping, followed by an eerie distant… scream? I cringed at the sound of it.

The Mer’daai began to seep from the mouth like a blue vapor; barely visible. I found the switch on the field generator and turned it on. With a hum, a tiny grid of blue light appeared in the center and began to bend and vibrate- slowly at first than more and more intense as it started to pull in and trap the Mer’daai within the containment field. As the essence was collected, it formed a gas orb in the center of the field.

By the time it’s done, there was nothing left of the old decrepit shell but dust. Systic acid had devoured every protein of his body.

That was my first exorcism. I can’t tell you how happy I was they don’t come out the other end.

I dislodged the containment field from its support, held it up to what little light was in there and stared at it.

It’s a surreal thing to hold a soul in your hand.

As I’m looking at it, the full weight of what I had done began to sink in but I tried hard to numb myself to it.

“I just need you to possess her long enough to heal her, that’s all that matters. After that I don’t care where you go.” It didn’t respond.

I left the warehouse telling myself to just focus on Mali.

I kept the lights off as I entered our bedroom. She looked so serene bathed in the blue glow of the moon. I kissed her gently on her cold cheek and whispered in her ear. “Soon we’ll be together again.” She didn’t respond. I was once again ignored, a victim of my own wishful thinking.

I put the static field just above her sweet lips, opened her mouth and turned off the containment.

The mist flowed into her mouth like liquid.

It didn’t happen instantly, but it did happen. Her color began to come back as she sweat all the blackness and decay from of her flesh, and then…she opened her eyes.

With an effort, she turned her head towards me. Tears erupted from my face. She started to sit up but I try to stop her. After putting her hand gently on mine, she looked me in the eye and whispered, “Its’ ok.”

I redirected my efforts to helping her up the rest of the way and we embraced. I had never felt so relieved.

Then it all went horribly wrong.

I felt the sensation of warm liquid down my back, originating from one infinitely painful spot where the knife had been stuck in. It was the single most excruciating thing I had ever experienced.

As the life drained from my body, and my vision began to fade away, the last thing I saw was Mali’s face; her large grey eyes were covered in baby blue flecks; a satisfied smile was cutting her features in half.


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I have stories published and/or forthcominging in Flashshot, Prinkipria, AlienSkin, Aurora Wolf, Short-Story.Me, M-Brane SF, 365 days of Flash Anthology, and The Cup of Joe Anthology.