Midnight Grinding Read Online Free
Author: Ronald Kelly
its hide blistered and raw from years of swimming in gastric and intestinal acids. Abigail’s thin hands clawed at the bedclothes, panic bringing her close to the edge of madness as she watched her husband exorcise the demon she had housed since the age of nine.
Finally, the snake was out. Jeremy held the serpent aloft, watching its scarred head strain and turn, trying unsuccessfully to sink its fangs into the flesh of his hand. With a fury born of pure anger and loathing, he flung it against the oaken panel of the bedroom door. Then, retrieving his .45, he emptied the clip into its thrashing body.
***
Dawn brought the sound of Doc Travers’ footsteps as he descended the stairs and joined a haggard Jeremy Burke in the kitchen. Silently, he poured himself a cup of coffee, then spoke. “I gave her something to quiet her down. Physically, I think she is all right. The awful shock of it all did the most damage, but she’ll get over it. In time, we will all get over this whole damned ordeal.”
Jeremy shook his head, reliving the horror. “But that…that horrid thing living inside her for all these years…”
“Indeed,” sighed Doc Travers with a tired smile, “but I had best get back up there. My work won’t be finished here for some time.”
“What do you mean?” asked Jeremy with alarm.
“I mean, young man, that your wife is in early labor. The baby will be premature, but I have delivered many that way,” he said, rising. “I wouldn’t worry if I were you.”
Jeremy buried his head in his hands. “I just pray that dear Abigail can make it through the strain.”
The labor of Abigail Beecher Burke turned out to be a long and painful one and, by the eve of that winter day in 1920, it finally came to its end. Jeremy was there, despite the doctor’s protest, to offer his young wife comfort and to see that things went well.
He watched silently as the birth of his child took place. First the infant’s head appeared, followed by the tiny body and limbs. He watched as Doc Travers tenderly handed the newborn fetus to Nurse Henderson and carefully withdrew the umbilical cord from the womb. Jeremy felt a thrill of terror grip him momentarily for, at first glance, it appeared that the physician held a snake in his hands. That was not the case, but for some reason the link between mother and child was darkly colored and possessed a scale-like texture. He quickly studied his firstborn — a little boy — and relaxed. His new son was incredibly small, but appeared completely normal.
A big wink and a grin from Doc Travers assured Jeremy that everything would be all right as he lifted the baby by its heels and gave it a sharp slap across the buttocks.
Jeremy exchanged a weary, but loving smile with his darling Abigail, took her hand gently in his own and eyed his squawling son as he squirmed within the grasp of the doctor’s experienced hands.
But as the infant began to cry, Jeremy noticed something that caused his newfound pride to swiftly rise toward horror. For the inner lining of the baby’s mouth was not a tender pink in color, but rather a ghastly milky white.
And, just beneath the pale gums, a hint of tiny fangs.
FOREVER ANGELS
To me, the worst nightmare imaginable would be the death of a child. The devastating loss, the grief, the realization of a life unfulfilled, would seem to be more than one could bear. Folks in the South derive some comfort from the belief that children are incapable of going to Hell; that these earthbound angels are simply making the transition to heavenly ones.
I wrote this story when I was a single man and, back then, it really didn’t bother me that much. But now that I am a father of two, it seems particularly disturbing.
Deanna Hudson didn’t believe her second-grade classmates at first. Not until they actually took her there and showed her that it was true.
The Glover County school bus let them out at the corner of
Finally, the snake was out. Jeremy held the serpent aloft, watching its scarred head strain and turn, trying unsuccessfully to sink its fangs into the flesh of his hand. With a fury born of pure anger and loathing, he flung it against the oaken panel of the bedroom door. Then, retrieving his .45, he emptied the clip into its thrashing body.
***
Dawn brought the sound of Doc Travers’ footsteps as he descended the stairs and joined a haggard Jeremy Burke in the kitchen. Silently, he poured himself a cup of coffee, then spoke. “I gave her something to quiet her down. Physically, I think she is all right. The awful shock of it all did the most damage, but she’ll get over it. In time, we will all get over this whole damned ordeal.”
Jeremy shook his head, reliving the horror. “But that…that horrid thing living inside her for all these years…”
“Indeed,” sighed Doc Travers with a tired smile, “but I had best get back up there. My work won’t be finished here for some time.”
“What do you mean?” asked Jeremy with alarm.
“I mean, young man, that your wife is in early labor. The baby will be premature, but I have delivered many that way,” he said, rising. “I wouldn’t worry if I were you.”
Jeremy buried his head in his hands. “I just pray that dear Abigail can make it through the strain.”
The labor of Abigail Beecher Burke turned out to be a long and painful one and, by the eve of that winter day in 1920, it finally came to its end. Jeremy was there, despite the doctor’s protest, to offer his young wife comfort and to see that things went well.
He watched silently as the birth of his child took place. First the infant’s head appeared, followed by the tiny body and limbs. He watched as Doc Travers tenderly handed the newborn fetus to Nurse Henderson and carefully withdrew the umbilical cord from the womb. Jeremy felt a thrill of terror grip him momentarily for, at first glance, it appeared that the physician held a snake in his hands. That was not the case, but for some reason the link between mother and child was darkly colored and possessed a scale-like texture. He quickly studied his firstborn — a little boy — and relaxed. His new son was incredibly small, but appeared completely normal.
A big wink and a grin from Doc Travers assured Jeremy that everything would be all right as he lifted the baby by its heels and gave it a sharp slap across the buttocks.
Jeremy exchanged a weary, but loving smile with his darling Abigail, took her hand gently in his own and eyed his squawling son as he squirmed within the grasp of the doctor’s experienced hands.
But as the infant began to cry, Jeremy noticed something that caused his newfound pride to swiftly rise toward horror. For the inner lining of the baby’s mouth was not a tender pink in color, but rather a ghastly milky white.
And, just beneath the pale gums, a hint of tiny fangs.
FOREVER ANGELS
To me, the worst nightmare imaginable would be the death of a child. The devastating loss, the grief, the realization of a life unfulfilled, would seem to be more than one could bear. Folks in the South derive some comfort from the belief that children are incapable of going to Hell; that these earthbound angels are simply making the transition to heavenly ones.
I wrote this story when I was a single man and, back then, it really didn’t bother me that much. But now that I am a father of two, it seems particularly disturbing.
Deanna Hudson didn’t believe her second-grade classmates at first. Not until they actually took her there and showed her that it was true.
The Glover County school bus let them out at the corner of
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