Night Terrors Vol. 9: Short Horror Stories Anthology

The Metamorphosis

By Angelique Fawns

Seth hesitated before tossing the knife into the suitcase lying open on his antique mahogany four-poster bed. The ornate hunting blade with lamprey eels carved into the wood handle fell squarely in the middle of the overflowing clothes. The artist’s rendition of the jawless fish looked like Stephen King’s version of a leech. Many-toothed monsters. Oil lamps cast a dim light on the sweaters, shorts, t-shirts, and boxers in the well-worn leather luggage. The black bag was enormous, covered in travel stickers from farm shows all over North America, and holding up well for a 50-year-old item. He needed the space for his size 46 pants and XXXL shirts. What was he supposed to pack for an experimental medical treatment?

“Better to overpack than wish you’d brought your favorite sweats, eh Charlie?” Seth asked the miniature pig lying on the dog bed in the corner of his bedroom.

He’d inherited the knife, the suitcase, and an aggressive form of diabetes from his recently deceased father. Charlie squealed when he zipped the bag shut.

“You can’t come little pig, but no worries, I got you a hog sitter.”

He picked up a small morsel of chocolate on his bedside table and tossed it to her.

“I was saving this for a late-night snack, but if I’m serious about kicking this diabetes, I got to kick the sweet treats first.”

Charlie’s pink tongue snagged the chocolate. Seth painfully shrugged off his overalls and forced his swollen fingers to undo the snaps on his plaid shirt. He looked at the cornucopia of drugs on his bedside table. Aleve, Advil, Tylenol, CBD oil, even a tab or two of Oxy. He dry-swallowed an Advil and climbed into bed.

“Time for some shut-eye, pretty pig.”

His potbellied pet laid her head down and gave a contented grunt.

“If this treatment works, Charlie, you and I can start jogging together. We could both use more exercise.” The pig was already fast asleep, her jowls vibrating as she snored.

Seth was too nervous to fall asleep. He ran his hands over his belly. Gut fat on a thirty-year-old man was not healthy, even though he hid it pretty well on his six-feet four-inch frame. A year ago, he had moved back to the farm when his Dad died unexpectedly. His Mom had already been gone for years. Someone had to run the piggery farm. But when the time came to send the fattened pork “to market”, Seth couldn’t bring himself to slaughter any of them. The intelligence in their eyes, the way they played with each other—he half-wished he could join them and roll around ecstatically in the mud.

But what kind of pig farmer can’t kill a pig? He missed both his parents. He was annoyed he had to leave his job selling the farm’s produce at the city market, and now, he felt like a farming failure. So, he ate. And ate. And ate. He devoured everything except bacon.

Trying to force himself to sleep, he mentally envisioned his pigs jumping one by one over a hay bale. There were fifty pigs on his farm, and he was busy naming them all.

“Jump, Esmerelda! Okay, Notorious P.I.G., you’re up. Over you go, Bertha, you need more speed to clear that hay,” Seth mumbled until he was snoring like Charlie.

***

The next morning, Dolores, his closest neighbor on their remote country road, pulled into his driveway in a beat-up Ranger 4x4. She ran a tanning and mud bath business called Sun & Mud. Seth had yet to see many clients, though. He had no idea how she kept it afloat. His front door banged shut.

“Get outta bed, you handsome hunk of manhood! You’se got yer appointment with the diabetic doc today,” she hollered from the bottom of the stairs.

Scrambling out of bed, he pulled on his overalls and grabbed his suitcase. Charlie followed him down the stairs. Leaning provocatively in the doorway, Dolores was dressed in a thrift store prom dress. Pushing fifty, she wore a cheap pink wig, which matched the lace gown.

“How are you going to do farm chores dressed in that?” Seth asked.

“I’ll take good care of your farm, big man. Just come back to me good ’n healthy so we can have a hot romance already.” Dolores winked one over-mascaraed eye.

She sashayed over to pick up his suitcase sitting beside the front door. Charlie trotted into the kitchen to eat breakfast out of the automatic food dispenser.

“Are you sure this doctor knows what he’s doing?” Seth asked, grabbing his wallet and keys off the antique buffet.

“I’m tellin’ ya, this healer guy works miracles! My brother had a bad case of them diabetes and he got cured up right quick. It’s a highly experimental top-secret treatment all right! You’ll be thanking me with a deep kiss when y’all get back!”