Pumpkins

I hate pumpkins, I hate jack-o-lanterns, and I hate Halloween. I guess I hate Halloween mostly because it means I have to see those disgusting things all over the place. On every porch, in every yard, and at every store I see them. They leer at me with crooked grins and empty eyes. Empty eyes that somehow follow my every move. I break out in a cold sweat just thinking about them. Even now I can peer out my window and see one on my neighbor’s stoop. It sits there, still as a cadaver. God, it’s looking back at me, I can feel it. It’s drilling into my skull, my soul.

You think they’re horrible too, right? Do you feel the same terror I do when you see them? Of course not, why would you? You haven’t seen what I’ve seen. You haven’t, and will probably never, learn the truth. What is the truth? I don’t know exactly what it is myself, and I’m not even sure exactly when I noticed it. It seems like I’ve always known. But I still remember that fateful fall day. I had picked out the perfect pumpkin, plump and fat, just begging to be carved! I brought it home and placed it on my kitchen table. Thinking back at how that fat, disgusting horror had sat on the very table I eat at makes me want to vomit. I didn’t understand then, but I soon discovered the terrible secret of the pumpkin that day.

I don’t even remember where I got the pumpkin from. It was some farm out in the sticks. I don’t think I could find it again even if I tried, and I have tried. I often wonder if the farm just sold strange pumpkins to unsuspecting victims. But I doubt that. There’s no way that all the other pumpkins I’ve seen have come from that same farm. But the fact that I can’t remember where the farm is located concerns me. It’s as if the memory has been intentionally blocked or removed. Of course, I have no way to prove this and at this point, the farm doesn’t matter.

I had set out all the necessary tools to clean and carve the thing. It sat on some old newspaper awaiting my attention. I stared at it a bit, imagining the face I would create. Eventually, I decided on two triangle eyes with a goofy grin and a single tooth on its upper gums. I cut into the top of the pumpkin, cutting a circle into it. That’s when a peculiar smell hit me, the smell of rot. I thought perhaps some rotten food had become stuck in the garbage disposal. But upon inspection, I saw the disposal was as clean as it could be. I checked the bathroom sink, bathtub, and even the toilet. Nothing. Then, to be thorough, I checked my fridge for any rotten food. Finding nothing I shrugged my shoulders and opened a window to air out my place.

The air was crisp, colorful piles of leaves littered the ground and there was the faint smell of fireplaces and burn piles. Halloween was close and the world seemed charged with festive energy. I found myself feeling eager to return to my work so I made my way back to my waiting patient. As I neared my pumpkin, I realized the smell had increased in intensity. I crinkled my nose in disgust and then it hit me, the pumpkin. I must have picked a rotten one, there was only one way to be sure. I lifted the lid off of it, and the smell of rot wafted from the aperture. I gagged and almost threw up, but then I looked inside and froze. I had expected to see…something else I think, looking back I realize I don’t quite recall how the inside of a pumpkin used to look. But I know what I saw and what I now see flesh.

Pulsating, quivering flesh. Dripping with mucus and slime. Blood dribbled down the living walls to collect in pools at the bottom of the thing. Sounds of squelching, burping, and the pulse of some kind of organ filled my ears. The smell of blood, rot, and acidic bile assaulted my nose. I froze and my eyes drank it all in, the horror of the sights, sounds, and of course, smells imprinting on my mind forever. how long I stared dumbly at the horror on the table I’ll never know. But I know I eventually lost consciousness.

I don’t know how long I was out but I do remember being jolted awake. Something had grabbed me and was pulling me along the kitchen floor. I tried to move but something was restraining me. There was a wet squelching sound somewhere nearby and my body felt welt and warm. Sudden pain snapped me back into reality, at least I think it did. Because as I saw what was happening to me, I felt as though I was in an absurd nightmare. Long slimy tendrils were wrapped around me. They pulsed and flexed as they worked to move my weight along the cold tile. Then I felt the pain again and realized that it was the tendrils digging tightly into my flesh. They held me so tight my flesh bulged and bruised. I screamed in horror and the tendrils began to work faster, as if in desperation. I began to struggle against the organic bonds that held me. But the more I struggled the tighter they gripped, however, I noticed that they stopped pulling me. That gave me hope that I could win this struggle.

However, the tendrils were unyielding in their grip. They were wrapped around my torso and both legs, luckily my arms were free. Though I wasn’t strong enough to free myself with just my bare hands. I needed a weapon. I searched frantically as I felt the tendrils begin trying to pull me again. They managed to move me a bit but I thought that maybe my struggling was tiring them out. There was nothing within reach I could use, my pockets had nothing useful either. I wished I could reach onto the table and grab the craving knife, hell I’d even settle for a butter knife if I had to. Alas, there was nothing, and then I realized I had a weapon, a mouthful of them.

I shot up quickly and wrenched back my left leg, the tendrils resisted my action. I relaxed a moment and then I felt the tendril holding my left leg also relaxed a bit. I seized my chance and again wrenched back my leg. The unexpected action caused the tendril to come within range and I bit down with all my might. The sensation was strange, like biting into a thick sausage. Fluid shot forth from the wounds my teeth caused. There was a peculiar soft cry and the tendrils released their grip on my other leg and torso. They pulled back but I didn’t let go of the one in my mouth though it struggled desperately. I felt a peculiar rage at the unexpected attackers and wanted revenge. So, I bit and bit until my mouth was full of crimson fluid that dribbled down my chin and cheeks.

All the while the unnatural cry continued though it didn’t increase in volume. I realized it was coming from the table, the other tendrils had quickly disappeared. I wondered where they had gone and suddenly became worried that they might attack me while I was distracted by the one in my mouth. I spit out the disgusting thing, it fell limply to the floor in a gout of bloody discharge. Then it was slowly retracted away, leaving a red chunky trail. I looked around wildly for the anticipated attack but it never came. Realizing this I looked back at the retreating tendril and watched as it slithered away like a snake. It slithered back across the floor then up a chair and onto the table. I stared a moment at the trail of gore it had left behind and listened to the whining cry. My attacker was on the table?

I waited a moment to see if anything would happen then decided the best defense was a good offense. So, I scrambled to my feet grabbing the carving knife from the table as I stood. Then I once again stood dumbfounded at the scene before me. The pumpkin sat on the table where I had left it and I watched as the tendril slid back into it through the top opening. The cry seemed to emanate from that aperture as well. A pathetic childish moan, like a kid who’d fallen out of a tree or got hit by a baseball. I took a step forward and the cry ceased, the sudden silence startled me so I stopped moving. It was still as a grave in the apartment then I heard it, a rhythmic pulse coming from the smelly pumpkin.

The thing itself was pulsing and undulating like a living animal or organ. The skin didn’t seem rigid like it should be on a normal pumpkin. It seemed to glisten as if it was wet with sweat. I moved forward cautiously anxious for another attack. As I got closer, I noticed little black hairs dotted the outside of the thing, like the coarse hair of a tarantula. Disgust welled up in me and I felt a sudden urge to destroy this unnatural abomination. But something compelled me to investigate further so I continued forward to see the inside of the thing. I remembered the gory scene I witnessed inside the pumpkin before I passed out and braced myself for what I could see in there. Then I was at the hole and I looked in.

It was dark inside but I could make out strange moving shapes and hear strange sounds. Why was it so dark inside there now? I could see everything in there before I passed out, what had changed? I fished my phone out of my pants and activated the flashlight. White light flooded into the pumpkin’s open wound and I gasped at what I saw. A deep fleshy cavern spread down farther than my light could penetrate. The walls of the thing were red and glistening. They writhed, pulsed, and quivered. I could feel a slight breeze as the air was sucked down into the opening and then expelled. The expelled air was warm and smelt of rot. Unnatural organs were scattered about, they moved and squelched as they performed their unknown functions.

I felt bile rise in my throat and I quickly averted my gaze to the floor and vomited onto the floor. My grip weakened on the knife in my hand, I quickly tightened my grip. Whatever was coming next, I wanted to be armed.

“H-hello?”

I froze, did I just hear a voice? It sounded like it came from somewhere far away. Yet as I looked around the apartment, I realized I was still alone. Then it came again.

“Hello? Is anyone there?”

It was a childish voice yet there was a strange unnatural twang to it. Like whatever or whoever was speaking had to make a concentrated effort to form words. I knew where the voice was coming from, the pumpkin. I remembered the cry I had heard after I bit the tendril and shuddered. I raised my face and looked back down into the cavernous maw of the pumpkin. I tried to speak but the words caught in my throat and I couldn’t seem to say anything. Then I realized I probably shouldn’t have my face so close to this strange thing and began to back away. When suddenly I was seized around my neck and head. Tendrils had shot out from the darkness and had wrapped themselves around me. They began to yank me down towards the maw.

I cried out in terror and slammed my hands down on the table stopping my head from being pulled inside the pumpkin. I strained my neck against the powerful fleshy tendrils but they responded by tightening their grip and pulling even harder. There was a pop and the sound of tearing flesh. I watched in horror as white jagged teeth bulged out of the sides of the open hole. A space was left toothless so that the tendrils wouldn’t be chewed to ribbons. Blood trickled out from the bottoms of the teeth and poured down onto both the table and into the newly formed mouth. The mouth chomped loudly; I could hear the teeth crack as they hit each other. I wanted to raise the knife and cut the tendrils away, but I was dangerously close to the chomping maw. I was afraid if I stopped holding myself back, I would be pulled down into those jaws.

I stared in wide-eyed terror wondering what to do. Then I noticed that something else was slithering out of the dark. Like a thick long worm, it oozed out of the hole. The jaws ceased snapping for a moment to allow whatever it was to exit safely. Then I realized that the quivering thing must be a kind of tongue. It began feeling around my face, licking the sweat and blood from it. I shouted in disgusted horror and again fought the urge to slash at it with the knife. I thought this was an obvious ploy to get me to weaken my grip on the table. I had to endure the slimy thing for now. It licked lazily for what seemed like forever as the tendrils maintained their iron grip. Meanwhile, I shook with the strain of holding myself away from the pumpkin’s mouth. My mind raced, I couldn’t keep this up forever, I had to act.

Suddenly I had an idea, it was a simple plan, but if it failed I was done for. I threw myself to the side, dragging the pumpkin with me. I must’ve surprised it because its grip loosened for a precious second. I slashed the tendril wrapped around my neck. It let go and shot back down into the thing. I managed to escape the grasp of the one around my head and it too retreated. The tongue tried to flee as well but I brought the knife down on it, stabbing it right through the middle. That cry sounded again and again as I stabbed maniacally. Eventually, the tongue was nothing but a shredded lump of bloody flesh. But I still wasn’t done, I’d had enough of this thing. I grabbed it and raised it above my head. Then in one fluid motion, I threw it to the floor with all my might.

There was a sickening splat as it hit the floor. Blood and guts flew in all directions. Strange organs slid across the floor, still wriggling and pulsing. Splayed arteries sprayed like firehoses, painting the kitchen walls red. The crying still sounded, coming from the now pathetic mound of flesh sitting in the middle of the floor. Panting I watched with a sense of grim satisfaction, I had won. At least for now. The thing was still alive somehow. I moved towards it and lifted my foot, ready to end this. Then I saw it. The thing, or should I say things that gave me more feelings of horror than anything else I had seen that night.

There, in the middle of the mass of quaking flesh, were a pair of blue eyes. Perfectly formed human eyes that stared at me. I let out a cry of disgust when I saw them blink. Then below that was a pair of lips that cracked open as if to speak. No words came but those pitiful moans emanated from that unnatural mouth. White teeth gleamed within, a human tongue lolled out and spittle leaked out the corners. I saw glints of fear. My disgust was replaced by a sudden rush of righteous fury. This thing had tried to kill me, to eat me. I brought my foot down with a satisfying crunch. I stomped and stomped until there was nothing but a red paste under my feet.

Afterward, I sat on the floor, huffing and puffing. My body ached and my lungs burned. I could feel my body begin to shake as the adrenaline wore off. I surveyed the scene before me. The walls were splattered with red gore. I began to wonder if anyone had heard my struggle. Then, as if in answer to my question, there was a knock at the door. Without even caring how I looked I scrambled to my feet and rushed to the door. I wrenched the door open and was met with an empty hall. I stood there a moment, confused. I looked to the left, then to the right, nothing. There was no one in the hall. Then there was a wet squelching sound coming from my feet.

I looked down to see a carved jack-o-lantern sitting at my feet. It wore a goofy grin and had two vacant eyes. It was just as I’d envisioned carving on my pumpkin. A rotten smell emanated from it. Strange fluids leaked from its eyes and mouth, staining the carpet beneath it. I felt eyes on me. I looked up and down the hall. Jack-o-lanterns stared at me from every doorway as they leaked horribly. I looked back down to the jack-o-lantern at my feet. Two brown eyes stared up at me from the carved eyes and a long sinewy tongue moved slowly towards me.

A childlike voice produced by unnatural means echoed from within.

“H-hello there.”