Fading Light: An Anthology of the Monstrous: Tim Marquitz Read Online Free Page A

have
sustained me well. But the time has come. My guide has spoken.

I answer to no one, and I do as I see fit. I show
mercy to those who believe and grow tired of those who take me for
granted.

I am above you.

    ~

    The first batch of men left, laughing and making plans
to meet up at a local sports bar.
    Ungrateful bastards.
    The next group punched out and departed, also laughing
and discussing their evening’s plans and afternoon’s
little league games.
    Go ahead. Laugh about it. Laugh about everything.
    It was time. Steve stuck his left foot out, noticing the
ground felt unusually soft. He kept his left one in, noticing his
co-workers looking around, trying to keep their footing.
    Oh, dear God ... please, help me.
    They began to drift upwards. At least that’s how
it looked to Steve from the safety of the large doorway, which he
held onto for stability. It was as if they were falling off a
colossal ceiling. Their screams must’ve been heard by the boss,
who came running outside, his own feet slowly leaving the ground.
    “What’s going on? Heyyyyyy … ”
    Steve started to float out of the doorway, then began
falling fast. His co-workers were finally experiencing what some of
them had made fun of him for.
    He saw his obese employer falling rapidly, passing up
the rest of the crew. Within seconds, Steve figured, they would all
be eaten up by the ozone layer or whatever waited for them beyond the
blue sky.
    The time had finally come, but Steve, who had prepared
most of his life for this moment in anxiety and continual stress,
remained surprisingly calm. His heart raced upon the initial
realization of what was happening, but something began to ease his
fear. He could no longer see his boss or co-workers, and knew his
rope was holding him to the earth, or at least keeping him from
falling at their speed. He reveled in the beauty and irony of it all.
He was supposed to be the one whom gravity would no longer accept. He
was supposed to be the panic-infested agoraphobic. But now, like an
astronaut outside a space shuttle, Steve Burke dangled from a long
rope, still relaxed, not wondering what would happen next. Not
caring. His world, as always feared, had turned upside down.
    The Silence was beyond serene. It was beautiful. And for
some reason, the fading screams of his co-workers brought him
comfort.
    Steve relaxed as the earth shrank underneath him.
    The blue sky turned dark. Breathing became more labored.
The sky turned darker still. Darker than midnight.
    When Steve reached down to give a reassuring tug on his
rope, he realized there was none. His stomach dropped as he
frantically felt around, a life line nowhere to be found.
    The atmosphere became increasingly dark, as did the
unheard of speed that distanced him from the planet.

    ~

I’ve shown mercy to those who believed until
the last possible moment, and grew tired of those who took me for
granted.
    I am above you. I am sated. I leave with your light.

    I bring the darkness along.

A Withering of Sorts
    Stephen McQuiggan

    The array of shops that passed for Main Street were
shuttered and quiet. He spotted a bar, its door half open, and pulled
close by, killing the engine.
    “We’ll ask here,” he said. “There’s
bound to be a hotel or B&B around here somewhere.”
    “George,” she began, but stopped abruptly,
not liking the scratch of her voice, or the way the silence stirred
like something provoked.
    “This is the first town we’ve hit in miles.
God knows how far it is to the next one. Besides, it’ll be dark
soon.” He turned to face the little girl hugging her dolly in
the backseat. “And you know what Emily’s like when she
gets tired.”
    She smiled at her daughter, then at her husband; he was
right of course. But something told her she would rather drive all
night with a busload of cranky Emilys than remain here, wherever here was; there had been no signposts.
    Holding her daughter’s hand tightly, she followed
him into the bar. It was dull