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Random Rants and Other Nonsense

Bottled Terror
by PitchforkPrincess


On a long, dreary stretch of highway a battered Chevy Nova sputtered along. The land was barren and the hills were scorched. The sun was a golden ball of unrelenting flame, pounding down on the desert. There was not a breath of wind and rain had not fallen on this God-forsaken place in decades.

Not many people dared travel this old highway. The towns were few and far between and none offered hotels. Most only consisted of run-down houses and dirty, cluttered gas stations.

The woman behind the wheel of the Nova had been driving all night and straight into the stifling heat of the afternoon. Her name was Jamie McDaniels and she was running away from a bad marriage, completely unprepared for what might lie ahead.

Two suitcases had been thrown haphazardly into the trunk, and that was all. Clothes, toiletries, and a few personal possessions were all Jamie had thought to take with her. She had a few dollars in her purse, and a baggie full of jewelry she meant to pawn. She no longer wanted to be reminded of the gifts her husband had given her in place of his love.

The heat was sweltering and the car had no air conditioning. Jamie silently cursed herself for taking her old beat up Nova instead of her husband’s new truck. Now all she could do was keep the windows down and pray for a breeze that would probably never come.

It was unclear why Jamie had chosen this nearly abandoned old highway. The map had shown a long line cut clear through the state, and she’d first thought it would be a wonderful idea to take a road with little traffic and nothing beautiful to look at.

Now it was obvious that she’d made a grave error. The last town she’d passed was fifty miles behind and as far as the eye could see there was no sign of civilization.

“Ugh,” Jamie mumbled, wiping sweat off her forehead. She was burning up inside the car and she didn’t even want to imagine what she must smell like. Her skin stuck to the seats like rubber adhered to a surface with superglue. The visor did nothing to protect her eyes from the harsh glare of the sun reflecting off the barren land. Her mouth felt like it was coated with cotton after a long night of pot smoking.

“Got to get something to drink,” Jamie said, chiding herself for not bringing anything to eat or drink along with her. Well, she hadn’t put much thought into anything once she’d decided to leave that cheating bastard.

Ahead of her, Jamie spotted a road cutting off from the highway and disappearing into the hills. Swabbing sweat from her brow once more she made a quick turn. The road was unpaved but covered with gravel. It did not look promising.

As she came to a bend and turned she caught sight of a sign by the end of the road. It read:

SALEM       7 mi.

“Thank god,” she murmured, praying there would be a store somewhere ahead.

On both sides of the road, the land seemed to shimmer. Jamie put it off as an odd effect of the heat and light. Perhaps her dehydration was causing strange visual hallucinations. Whatever the case, she simply ignored it. The land was so plain there wasn’t anything to look at, anyway.

After the promised seven miles a tiny, inhospitable town came into view. The streets were littered with all manner of refuse and the store fronts were in bad need of paint. It seemed, none would see such niceties, though, because most of the windows in the decrepit buildings were boarded up.

The streets seemed to be abandoned. Then Jamie spotted two teenagers wandering idly up the sidewalk. They were dressed in clothes that could really only be considered rags. One of the teenagers, who was a boy of no more than fourteen, had a dark stain on the front of his shirt. It looked like he’d been playing in muck of some kind. The other, a girl of the same age, was likewise sullied.

Pulling to the side of the narrow road, Jamie popped her head out of the window and waved at the teenagers. “Excuse me,” she called, “is there a store nearby?”

The boy stopped and held a hand out to his companion. Both turned to Jamie and watched her with a mixture of distrust and caution.

“Please,” Jamie called. “I’m dehydrated. I need to find a store.”

Shaking his head, the boy said, “There’s nothing you want here.”

Blinking, Jamie studied the teenagers once again. Something was odd and out of place about them, but through their tangles of hair and stained clothing she couldn’t identify it.

“You’d best turn back the way you came, lady. This place is wrong,” the girl admonished. Then she turned away, disappearing with her friend down a dark alleyway.

Shaking her head, Jamie drove on. Strange kids, she thought. I guess they don’t like strangers.

She drove on for two more blocks, passing several derelict buildings before spotting a little corner store. Sending a silent prayer of thanks toward heaven, she pulled into the parking lot.

The place was not much better for wear than the rest of this dirty little town, but a sign in the window proclaimed: OPEN.

Stepping out of the car and stretching, Jamie quickly made her way to the door. It hung precariously on hinges that seemed about ready to give out. She carefully opened the door and stepped inside the store.

Well, this place has seen better days, she thought mildly. Most of the shelves were empty, and what was left looked like it had been around since the dawn of the twentieth century. Sighing heavily, Jamie made her way deeper into the store, looking for a refrigerator.

“Can I help you, miss?”

Jumping, Jamie spun around, coming nose to nose with a man who reeked of old beer and moldy foodstuff. When she stepped back she saw that he was missing many teeth, and what remained were jagged and splintered. He wore a dirty set of overalls which were plastered with dark dirt or clay of some kind. His hands were cut and one open sore oozed pus.

Trying not to gag, Jamie grumbled, “I need something to drink.” Her mouth had suddenly become sticky and her saliva felt gooey. She wiped the back of her hand across her lips and tried to work up some wetness.

“There’s no running water here,” the man told her. “You can look in the back if you want. The refrigerator runs on a generator.” He pointed down a long row of vacant shelves.

“Thanks,” Jamie choked, turning quickly to distance herself from the man.

At the back of the store, Jamie found a refrigerator that looked as if it belonged on life-support. The glass on its door was grimy and she could not see inside. Carefully grabbing the cleanest part of the handle (which was not very clean at all), she opened the door.

There were maggots everywhere. Crawling over rotten cheese and meat. Swimming around in a jug of curdled milk. And there, in the middle of all this disgusting, stinking food was a human hand. The maggots had made a grand home of it.

Screaming, Jamie stumbled backwards, tripping over the edge of a shelf and landing hard on her butt. She scrambled away from the horrid scene and fought a losing battle with her gorge.

“Ma’am?” the storekeeper asked.

“There’s a…” Jamie sought out words that wanted to elude her. “…a hand!”

“Where?” he asked, scanning the shop with bloodshot eyes. “I’m sorry, miss. I don’t see anything. Perhaps the heat…” and here he trailed off, as if he didn’t want to insult her sanity.

“L… look,” Jamie croaked, cautiously rising to her feet and stumbling toward the offensive refrigerator. She timidly reached out for the door and threw it open.

Inside, she saw meet and other perishable food which probably should have been discarded weeks ago, and the jug of milk didn’t look too appetizing either. What she didn’t see was a human hand infested with maggots.

“But…” Jamie whispered, shaking her head in confusion. Finally, she turned back to the man and chuckled nervously. A blush rose to her face as she said, “I guess the heat really has gone to my head.”

Nodding in understanding, he replied, “It has a tendency to do that to people.”

Looking into the refrigerator once more, Jamie spotted a bottle of water. Gingerly reaching in, she extracted it while trying to avoid touching any of the stale food. “Ahh. This is perfect.”

At the counter, Jamie fished in her pocket for two rumpled dollar bills. When she looked up, it seemed the man was staring grimly at the bottle of water.

“You sure you want that?” he asked, pointing at the bottle with concern.

“Well,” Jamie began, wondering at the odd behavior the storekeeper displayed. “The seal isn’t broken. Is there something wrong with the water? Is it going to make me sick?”

“No,” he answered, “It won’t make you ill. It’s just… well, this town is wrong.”

“Yes,” Jamie replied, “I’ve been told. What does that have to do with the water? Is it from a well around here?”

“No, no,” the man assured her. “It was delivered. Comes from a bottling company, I imagine.”

“Then, I think I’ll take it.” Licking her lips, Jamie added, “I think I must.”

Nodding, the man whispered, “That’ll be a dollar thirteen, then, ma’am.”

Paying the man, Jamie quickly vacated the store. “This town really is wrong,” she muttered, chuckling.

When she climbed back into her car, she turned to stare once more at the odd little store. It was quite a filthy place, and Jamie wondered if perhaps she shouldn’t drink the water.

Her thoughts were answered when a bird came careening into her windshield. Its tiny little body went limp and dark blood ran down the glass. Stepping out of her car, Jamie examined the bird. It appeared its bones had shattered on impact.

Shivering, Jamie carefully plucked the dead animal off her windshield and chucked in toward an overflowing dumpster. She was through with this creepy little town.

Once she was back behind the wheel and retracing the path she’d taken to find the town of Salem, Jamie began to relax. She picked up the bottle of water and attempted to open it with one hand. The cap wouldn’t budge.

“Damn,” Jamie muttered, twisting harder at the damnable thing. This distraction took her eyes off the road and when next she looked up she found herself careening toward the two teenagers she’d seen earlier.

Stomping on the break, Jamie came to a stop less than a foot away from them. Her breath caught in her throat as she shouted, “Are you too crazy? I could have killed you.”

They stared at her blankly, until the girl said, “It’s all wrong.” Then the two turned a corner in the road and disappeared.

“What is with these people?” Jamie asked the sky. Shaking her head, she fused with the bottle of water once more. The cap held tight.

Anger flashed through Jamie. She was going to pass out from dehydration if she didn’t get a drink soon. She savagely battered the bottle of water against her dashboard, cursing at it.

Her next attempt met success… of a sort. The cap began to turn, the plastic seal pealing loose. At the last moment, Jamie wondered once more if she ought to just abandon the water. Something was very off about the town and her skin began to crawl.

Before she could let her brain wander off on a spree of terror and paranoia, Jamie twisted the cap off the bottle. She raised it to her lips, her mouth singing in anticipation, and froze. Good god in heaven, the storekeeper had tried to warn her!

Inside the bottle the water lost its clear, clean look. Instead, it became dark, the color matching that of the stains on the teenagers’ clothing. It was nearly the color of mud, but that it was not. It was a dark, nearly black crimson.

Shaking, sweat pouring down her face, Jamie tried in vain to discard the bottle. It seemed to have adhered to her hand, and now felt like it was merging with her skin. Indeed, the plastic had begun melting, and it was quickly covering her fingers.

Cringing, Jamie opened her car door and scrambled out. She fell to her knees on the hard packed gravel and screamed. The hot plastic was burning away at her skin.

Positioning the bottle beneath her foot, Jamie pressed down with all her strength. She tried to rip her hand away from the awful thing, but it was no use. It felt like her shoulder would come out of the socket if she yanked any harder.

Suddenly, a dark cloud of foul smelling mist escaped the confines of the bottle. It was the color of pus, yellowish and sick looking. It began to swirl around her head, gagging and smothering her. She fanned her free hand about her face in a useless attempt to ward the mist away.

When the bottle burst around her hand, a deluge of dark, salty water soaked her. As it washed into her mouth and down her throat, she realized that the sticky substance was not water at all. It was blood.

Trying to scream was useless, so Jamie finally surrendered to the death that was waiting to claim her.

The last thing she saw was the two teenagers standing above her, watching her with a mixture of sadness and disinterest.

“They never listen, do they?”