Fluff

Living by one’s self had its distinct advantages, and widowed Lydia felt that amongst them, independence was the one thing she cherished. As for the disadvantages, such as the loneliness that oft crept up on her, she did everything to decrease their impact. She enjoyed the pursuit of her hobbies – especially anything with a needle and thread.7

Liking nothing more than to sit in her favourite chair in the parlour, Lydia would create a masterpiece one stitch at a time while listening to the house – the tick of the grandfather clock in the hallway, the tin roof as it cooled in the afternoon and the other assorted sounds the made her house her home. 8

She finished a stitch on her latest project, placing in down in her lap so that she could see her entire progress. Stretching her fingers, she closed her eyes and leaned back in the chair. The clock chimed four o’clock and the afternoon sunlight played against her eyelids through the lace curtains. She smiled. In her opinion, life couldn’t get any better.9

Closing her eyes, she decided an afternoon siesta would finish the day rather nicely. Her cat came in and curled on the chair with her, and she dozed the rest of the afternoon.10

Opening her eyes, the shadows of the day lengthened on the wall and furniture. Darkness crouched between bookcases and lamp tables and ornaments. Gloom transformed the rich colours of the Persian rug to dull shades of brown. Out of the corner of her eye, a particularly deep shadow blurred at the edges, like spilled ink spiking into the creases of parchment.11

Lydia blinked, and then narrowed her eyes as she focused on the area.12

The shadow was exactly as it had always been. 13

Lydia huffed as she shook her head. Blaming the fright her black cat, Sooty, gave her the night before, she ignored the divergence from what her senses told her was true. 14

As she wrapped her long-stitch project and placed it in her craft bag, she didn’t glimpse the fluffy blackness that made its furtive escape from the room.
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Night crawled over the landscape, chasing the sun as it set. Lydia lit the gas lamps throughout the house, each room filling with a warm yellow glow. She had just set a match to the last lamp in the hallway when the other two spluttered out. Except for a glimmering sliver of light coming from under the kitchen door, the hallway now corralled the shadows the lamps usually hounded to the nooks and crannies of the house. 16

As she strode to the nearest darkened lamp, the previous one also ceased to convey its cheery light. 17

Lydia stood still, fingers fumbling for another match. As she lifted one to strike, she heard the sound of something scurrying alongside the skirting board of the wall behind her. 18

She brought the match against the strike paper, but instead of flaring to life, it flickered wanly for a brief millisecond before sizzling out. 19

As she slid the matchbox open to retrieve another matchstick, she felt soft fur brush against her ankle.20

“Sooty?”21

The absence of a reassuring ‘meow’ caused her heart to flutter and she kicked out with her foot. It connected with something warm and distinctly fluffy. If it was Sooty, she reasoned, the damned cat deserved a kick.22

Gripping the matchbox even tighter, she withdrew another match. She struck it with deliberate care, breathing a sigh of relief as it ignited, casting a small circle of light around her. She lifted the cover of the gas lamp at the same time as she drew the lit match to the sconce. 23

At the perimeter of the diffused halo of light, a shadow twitched. Lydia gasped and her fingers shook, making the match quiver as it made contact with the gas outlet. 24

The lamp wouldn’t light, but Lydia kept the burning match where it was, whispering a plea under her breath that the wretched thing would catch. 25

A tendril of shadow crept across the wall like the waving tentacle of a sea anemone, disregarding the laws of physics as it took mastery over the light. She watched, transfixed, ignoring the fact that the flame of the match had almost reached the tips of her fingers. 26

Behind the sable aberrance, tiny pinpricks of radiance glinted, as if miniature stars had taken up temporary residence amongst her wallpaper roses. 27

A subdued hiss, followed by pain and utter darkness alerted her to the match’s demise. She cursed and stumbled back against the opposite wall, her focus still on the blinking lights. A small section faded from view as something moved across them. 28

Heart racing and her mouth dry, Lydia sank down the wall, coming to rest at a crouch. The box of matches rattled in her hand as she shivered with fear. She held her breath and watched as more specks of light flickered in a trail down the wall and spread in a puddle across the floor.29

Whimpering now, she tucked her feet under her as the pool of scintillating light oozed toward her. At its edge, shadows teemed.30

Soft fluff brushed her foot; she screamed as sharp pain radiated from one of her toes. The matchbox clattered to the floor as she pushed herself from the wall. Hysterical, she groped at the empty space around her as she fled. 31

The kitchen door banged open as she hit it with arms outstretched. She slammed it shut without looking behind her, terrified of what the light would reveal. Snatching teatowels from where they hung, she threw them at the gap under the door, nudging them with her foot until the blot of treacherous dark no longer taunted her.32

Pulling out a chair, she sat down and examined her toe for the telltale signs that something with needle-sharp teeth had bitten her.33

There was nothing to see but a single strand of black fur.
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Lydia spent the night in the kitchen, refusing to leave her haven of light. Only when the first rays of sunlight streamed through her windows did she tentatively opened the door to the rest of the house. 35

She held her breath as she glanced down the hallway. Except for the box of matches lying discarded on the runner, the hallway looked no different than it did any other day. Lydia walked to the second lamp and stared at the wall. She ran her fingers over the surface of the wallpaper, hoping that some subtle trace from the night before would assure her that she hadn’t imagined the entire episode. 36

Nothing.37

However, as she turned away, she caught the briefest hint of transparency in the wallpaper accompanied by an array of tiny lights that twinkled before fading to normalcy.38

Rubbing her eyes, she stared at the wall, scowling as she examined the pink Sheridan-style roses on the creamy yellow background. With a grunt of annoyance, she stepped back from the wall.39

…Right onto a warm, squirming, fluffy thing.40

The resulting yowl of fury flooded her bowel with icy terror, and she looked down in time to see her black cat whirl around and latched itself to her ankle.41

“Sooty, no,” she warned.42

The cat snarled, sinking its claws into her skin.43

She lifted her foot, propping her left hand against the wall to steady her balance. 44

Something shifted, tickling her palm. 45

Lydia froze. 46

Sooty growled, the throaty, sonic vibration making every inch of her skin goose-bump.47

Unsure of the sensation and her cat’s reaction, her breath came shallowly as she twisted her head back to the wall.48

Wriggling between her fingers, black tendrils squirmed like a hungry leeches, waving at her as they sought to emerge from the wall and crawl across her skin.49

Sooty hissed and Lydia jerked her hand away from the wall. 50

The coils of sinister black retreated into the wall, leaving nothing but seamless wallpaper in their wake.51

With the cat still attached to her ankle, she ran from the hallway, wiping her hand against her skirt as she went. Sooty deserted her when she reached the top of the staircase, slinking off to another room with nary a glance back, his fur ridged along his back and tail fluffed out.52

Lydia raced through her bedroom and into the bathroom. She stared at her reflection in the mirrored cabinet as she gripped the porcelain sink. Greying hair tumbled from a bun sitting askew at the top of her head, the wisps framing bloodshot eyes and pallid skin. 53

She hadn’t had an episode for over a year. Even though she relapsed when her husband had died, the Haldol had kept her from seeing the worst of the apparitions. She’d weaned herself from the medication over a year ago, and never regretted it.54

Until now.55

Blinking away tears, she wrenched open the medicine cabinet. Fingers scurrying through the hall-empty bottles and blister packs, she searched for the bottle she hoped fervently that she hadn’t tossed out. 56

With the entire contents of the cabinet scattered on the floor and sink, she came to a frightening conclusion as she stared at the empty shelves; the delusions were back, and she had nothing to stop them.57

She backed away, stumbling on the debris from her frantic search. She didn’t stop until the backs of her calves bumped against her bed, and only then to fling herself back, pull a pillow over her face and scream in frustration.
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Lydia found some Valium instead, spending the following days in a haze of dream-like nonchalance. She curled up in her bed, refusing to move unless prompted to by her body or the howls of her hungry cat. 59

Whenever she needed to navigate the small section of hallway between the stairs and kitchen, she closed her eyes, relying on her knowledge of the house to lead her safely to the kitchen and back again. She feared that should she open her eyes, her mind would conjure the black aberrations.60

She didn’t even touch the walls for fear that her skin would betray her as well. Only in bed did she feel completely safe.61

Lydia woke one afternoon after just over a week of living like a hermit in her own home, her eyes gluey, and hair limp and oily. She rubbed a calloused heel against an itching shin, dislodging the warm lump that had curled up against her.62

Without looking, she reached down with her hands to hurry Sooty along – she vaguely hated that the cat had taken advantage of her apathy. 63

“Ahhh…oww!” she shrieked, as sharp teeth incised her skin.64

She backhanded the petulant creature.65

A growl and sharp claws answered her act of violence, and she sat up in the bed and opened her mouth to threaten Sooty with further injury.66

Her mouth gaped, but the only sound that ensued was a strangled keen.67

It wasn’t Sooty that glared back at her.68

The thing – about the size of a large rat – stood on her coverlet. Except for six scaly legs each ending in three claws, it was covered with fine black fluff. Tiny dark eyes glimmered blood-red and it regarded her quizzically, before raising itself up on its rear legs. A thick tail kept it balanced and the middle legs absently groomed its belly and it watched her.69

“No,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “No, no, no, NO! Not real.”70

She repeated the mantra several times, but the creature simply looked amused.71

“Not here,” she stated as she pointedly closed her eyes. “Not real, not here,” she mumbled, before slowly counting to ten.72

Lydia opened her eyes.73

The creature winked at her and gestured at her room with one clawed hand.74

Writhing masses of sinuous shadow abruptly oozed from several different points around the room. Her pillow bulged and tore at the seams, glistening tendrils weaving through her hair as she fought back a scream. Her collection of antique dolls exploded with multifarious abominations; glass eyes popped from sockets and skittered across the floor when tentacles and feelers forced their way through vacant porcelain skulls.75

Lydia clutched at her covers, petrified, as the creature observed her. 76

It appeared strangely satisfied, as if it drew sadistic pleasure from her fear.77

When it grinned, revealing a mouth much bigger than even her imagination could have summoned, she fainted at the sight of all those gleaming, yellow, teeth.
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Knocking. 79

Pounding.80

The sound of knuckles on wood, frantic.81

An incessant voice, yelling.82

Lydia rolled from the bed, falling to the floor on her knees, holding her head between her hands.83

Despite her murmured protests, the knocking continued.84

“Go away…” she said, pleading with the unknown intruders of her peace to remove themselves from her porch.85

“Lydia?” The inquiry, though obviously yelled, sounded faint.86

She dragged the quilt from the bed and wrapped it around herself. She didn’t want to see anyone. Not now, and not like this. 87

“Lydia!” Banging; so hard that it rattled the glass in the door.88

Sighing, and with resignation weighing heavily on her, she pushed herself up from the floor. Snagged by the trailing quilt, the glass eyes from the dolls rolled in random directions as she wearily trudged from the room and descended the stairs. She reached the door as a curious face pressed against a stained glass panel beside the door. With a trembling hand, she unlocked the door and swung it open.89

“Lydia?” Helen Charleston, neighbour and occasional friend, peered at her, concerned.90

Lydia didn’t answer her, instead, she looked at where Helen’s daughter lingered beside her mother and, in particular, the small creature that the girl cradled in her arms.91

“My goodness, Lydia, you look horrible. Whatever is the matter, dear?”92

Lydia ignored her and pointed at the daughter with a trembling finger. “You,” she spat, enraged. “You and that evil thing.”93

Helen scowled and comforted her surprised daughter. “What is wrong, Lydia?”94

“That!” Lydia let go of the quilt and it dropped from her shoulders. She took a menacing step out the door. “Kill it.”95

Helen pulled her daughter to her protectively, fearful of the wild glare on Lydia’s face.96

Snatching the straw broom from beside the door, Lydia advanced. “Do you see it? Do you?”97

The creature snuggled against the crook of the daughter’s arm as Helen glanced at it and back at Lydia. 98

Before Helen could reply, Lydia thrust the broom, the bristles catching the daughter on the shoulder.99

“Get it away from me,” she shrieked. “Take that abhorrent creature and leave. Leave me alone.” She raised the broom and pummelled the poor girl, screaming hoarse threats.100

Helen pulled her daughter from the porch just as the girl lost her grip on the creature. 101

The black beastie scurried across the wooden decking, attempting to avoid every strike from Lydia’s broom. As the daughter squealed, the broom thudded, each blow coming closer.102

With grim determination, Lydia hefted the broom one last time, bringing it down with a sickening crunch. The creature twitched as Helen and her daughter looked on in horror.103

“You’ve finally lost it, Lydia,” she said her voice shrill as she propelled her daughter away from the scene, “…killing Penelope’s guinea pig.” Helen shook her head. “I got her that for her birthday, remember?”104

Lydia dropped the broom and re-entered her home, slamming the door behind her.
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She sat in her kitchen, staring at the body on the sheet of newsprint. 106

Proof.107

She took a sip of whisky, washing down another Valium. 108

The creature may not have had six legs, but she’d seen the gleam in its eyes. She knew that it had hidden its true nature from her. 109

A guinea pig? 110

Not likely, she mused, triumphant. She wasn’t sick. Her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her. 111

A knock sounded on her door again. She gulped the rest of the whisky and seized the small carcass from the floor.112

If Helen wanted to know why, Lydia would show her.113

She marched to the door and flung it open, holding the limp creature out in front of her. “See? I told you that…”114

“I think it might be best if you have a seat, Mrs. Howard.”115

Lydia trembled. 116

“In the parlour. Then you can tell me everything.”117

She dropped the creature and ran from the man.118

He followed her, as did two rather burly men dressed in white. “Mrs. Howard, please. I want to reassure you that we are just concerned for your safety – as well as that of your neighbours.”119

She stopped and turned. “You’re in on this aren’t you? Sending things. I’m not selling this house, Doctor.”120

“Sending things?”121

She pointed at the black bundle of fur. “Those creatures. Things that live in the walls. I’m not mad. I have PROOF.”122

“Mrs. Howard…”123

She slapped her hands over her ears. “Go away – leave!”124

The man nodded at her, but it wasn’t until she felt a prick in her shoulder that she realised he wasn’t nodding at her, but the bastard behind her. She slumped against him, reality fading.
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Lydia woke to a harsh light and hands crawling against her wrists and ankles. 126

“Just for a couple of days – until we get you stabilised,” the doctor told her as he wrote something on a chart.127

“No, please, I’m not imagining things again. They’re real. They come from the walls at night,” she said, pulling against the restraints. They wouldn’t budge.128

He hooked the chart to the end of the bed. “You’ve had a psychotic episode, Mrs. Howard.”129

She shook her head. “No.”130

The orderlies left the room, and the doctor paused at the light switch. “Try to get some sleep.”131

Lydia screamed as the light went out, leaving her with shadows that shifted and stretched.132

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.133

Hidden behind a cracked mirror in the room, in another space, a voice cracked electronically, “Cease virtual simulation matrix.”134

Five figures in the room stood motionless as the scene before them changed; flashes of light sparkled as the mould-infested walls and cracked floorboards shrunk back like melting photo film to reveal cold white floors and walls. Even the bed and the woman in it transformed, finally resolving into a figure suspended in the air, her knees drawn up to her chest. A mesh of glowing organic matter pulsed with the occasional dull glow, completely covering her shaven head.135

“Explain the anomaly in the initial stages, Mr. Sinclair,” an emotionless voice rang out from the back row of figures. 136

Phillip James Sinclair – PJ to his friends – shuddered. “The matrix stayed stable – except when her mind flooded with Cortisol – it caused a dissonance in the bio-feedback to the simulated environment.  Fear is not an exact science.”137

There was a murmur of voices. “Is she primed?”138

PJ consulted the crystalline array in front of him. “Biosignals concur that she is in a state of heightened awareness – increased pulse rate, dilated pupils, adrenalin response, decreased activity in the digestive tract. In layman’s terms, you’ve scared the heck out of her.”139

“Excellent. Remove the bio-feedback modulator.”140

He prodded a section on the array with a slim metal stylus. The mesh surrounding the woman’s head rolled back and lifted from her skull. As it disappeared into the ceiling, the woman was lowered to the ground. She curled up, her knees tucked up against her chest. 141

“Release the crčche.” 142

Behind the woman – Subject LH520, Lydia Howard – a simple rectangle of black appeared.143

For half a minute, the black remained crisply outlined, its ebony darkness in stark relief against the white. 144

As Lydia unfolded herself and took in her surroundings, the first of the fluffy shapes teemed from the opening. They rose on back legs and sniffed at the air, delicate noses twitching as they processed the bouquet of fear that radiated from the woman. They trembled as one, tiny pink tongues flickering out to taste the tang of her terror. 145

Liking what they perceived, they dropped to all six appendages and ambled toward her.146

Lydia turned to the sound they made as they slowly advanced. With a yell, she crawled across the floor until she could go no further. As she watched, back against the wall and moaning with terror, the front line of creatures stopped. 147

One, larger than the rest, broke rank and approached her. 148

Lydia whimpered.149

It smiled.150

She reached her hand out to it, fingers stretched in a primitive plea.151

It purred, its fur rippling, before crouching on the haunches of its rear legs. 152

Enchanted by the sound it made, she closed her eyes.153

With his grip knuckle-white on the stylus, PJ watched, horrified, as the lead creature leapt, maw opening wide as it flew through the air at Subject LH520’s face. Its siblings following suit, the creatures descending on their victim. Bile burned in his throat as the woman’s screams cut off – replaced with the sounds of frenzied feeding.154

Unconsciously, his hand rose to the band of metal around his neck. There wasn’t that much difference between he and the woman. They were both useful in their own special way. His usefulness just kept him alive longer. He turned to the back row of figures. “Subject LH520 induced a reaction time of eight seconds. The new scenario has now recorded its fifty-ninth success.”155

“Very good, carbon-based bipedal life form, my offspring seem… content.”156

Another figure leaned across to its colleague. “You need to use the musculature function if you are going to address the slaves. See when it talks – it moves its mouth.”157

PJ could feel fear and loathing boiling up in him, from the damp coldness that cramped his fingers to the dread that prickled his lip with sweat, as the vaguely human figure turned back to him. He hated it when they stopped pretending.158

“Finalise the data.”159

PJ nodded a second too late, engrossed with how the figure’s lips moved out-of-sync with the speech, like a badly dubbed b-grade flick.160

The figure grinned in much the same manner as a large predator just about to tear out the throat of its prey.161

PJ turned away, his fingers scuttling across the crystalline display. As he attempted to will his heartbeat to slow, the air behind him compressed, as if something with a greater mass now occupied a much smaller space. Warm fur and the stench of carrion breath brushed the back of his neck, and he closed his eyes in silent terror.162

A second later, the metal stylus tumbled from his fingers.
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.163

PJ jerked awake, heart racing, to the sound of something hitting the floorboards. He rubbed his eyes as he reached for his glasses, bemoaning his nasty propensity for weird nightmares. Glad that the sunlight shone brightly through his curtains, he swung his feet out of bed just as he put his specs on.164

He cursed, snatching his feet back as something soft and fluffy lightly brushed against them; a glance down confirmed his fears.165

The fluffy thing – no larger than a guinea pig – tilted its head at him, blinked, and then stretched its toothy mouth wide into a grin… 166

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