“And what if nature chose you to lead the attack?” Cede the Demon
With all the panic and worry about whose home, might be the next to go, the suicide rate jumped from zero to three in the first month. The local pharmacist Jim Belandy used his Ruger model 44 carbine to blow his brains out in the back his store, what with his wife and six kids to feed. The next day, his wife Molly, climbed over a concrete road divider and stepped in front of a semi-tractor trailer. As for the six kids, the county welfare agency bundled them up in the back of a Ford Explorer and no one has seen them since. The townsfolk in Morlock were accustomed to hardship; Reverend Judas knew this, he had lived here all his life. And as he preached in front of a packed congregation in the stifling July heat, he ended his Sunday sermon with the words, “living is as natural as dying, it is not for us to question the when or why.” His message was well received by Morlocks’ citizens and for the rest of that week, there was a sense of calm and hope as people went about their daily business.
But then, the rats began to die. Lester, the town drunk claimed “they jus climbing out the drains, frittering and shaking, running all crazy like.” By noon that day, cars going up and down the streets of Morlock , had pulverized the rotting flesh into a dark red stain of rodent hair and bones. The stench was so strong; the mayor was forced to call a town hall meeting that night to quell the growing fear of its citizens. Lester swore they were killed by evil, but no one took him seriously, until he stumbled into the Dancing Nail, frothing from the mouth, covered in canker sores, and keeled over dead.
Cede had wanted his mom and dad to leave too, but his mother broke down and confessed while he was helping her clear the dinner table – she had lost her lifesavings and her job as a ticket agent at the rail yard. His mother was a strong woman, but for the first time in his life, he saw tears run down her face. He hated her, his father didn’t work, he collected a pension and his mom was penniless. Whittle snap!
They were stuck in this dreary town forever, burying his anger; he finished clearing the table and started washing the dishes. Ever since his little encounter, soda had become his beverage of choice. His mom swore, “Cede you’ll be as fat as your father if you continue sucking down all that sugar.” Well who’s laughing now? Somewhere deep inside Cede had wanted this to happen. Maybe he was tired of his dad, beating on his mom and wanted to make it stop. Maybe if he stopped hitting her, he would stop hitting him too?
His mom had been in the kitchen when Cede had come home from the rail yard. He could still hear his father shouting “Cede bring my dinner and a glass of water, and tell your mother to put my boots upstairs in the closet. Cede! Did you hear me?” Without thought, he had taken a glass from the dish tray by the sink and poured water in it, and then brought it to his dad; along with dinner. He felt no sorrow when his father became ill. In fact, Cede had personally given him the glass of water that started it all. He had swirled his finger in the glass and watched the spoors gyrations until they dissolved in the liquid. He almost imagined, they winked at him before disappearing.
His reaction after drinking that glass was more pronounced than the other residents of Morlock. Such a large concentration of spoor collapsed his internal organs, causing him to gasp for air and clutch the sofa as his tongue lungs became purple and swollen. Lesions began to grow and boil all over his body. His bloated stomach stretched and tore the buttons of his corduroy shirt. Cede stood and watched. It took a good fifteen minutes for him to die as the spoor coursed through his veins. His mom had walked from the kitchen into the living room just as her husband’s body was beginning to stiffen from rigor mortis.