#78 - I Shmell A Winnah!

Don't Be An Idiom

Episode 78: You awake in a small, neatly furnished room. You rise from the bed and walk over to the mirror sitting atop the dresser at the far end of the room. It is not a long walk. There’s no recognition in the face staring back at you. The face is neither overly attractive, nor what you would consider ugly. It’s the kind of face that would blend easily into a crowd and be forgotten the moment it left one’s sight. You move to the window and behold tall, knotty pines. The mid afternoon sun hangs low in the sky and makes you feel sick to your stomach…but you don’t know why. That’s when you realize you’re not alone. Beads of cold sweat swell on your forehead as you’re hit with an unmistakable feeling of déjà vu. There are footsteps on the stairs now. A smell rises up in your nostrils. Something sickly sweet and familiar that you can’t quite place. You move to the door as quickly as you can to turn the lock. The instant you hear the click, your sigh of relief is stifled in your throat as whatever is on the other side of the door pounds and claws at the wood, howling like a mad wolf with a parasite in its brain. As you throw your whole weight against the door, you hear static rise from the radio on the bedside table. Through the white noise you swear you hear a voice whispering, “Episode 78…it’s already too late.” The pounding continues with inhuman strength as you feel your own resolve waning. Your muscles scream, the blood pounds in your ears, and as the hinges on the door explode from the wall you ask yourself, “What kind of tar baby have I gotten myself into?”