made Sean and Janie hear him out, too. See, Specs was of the mind that The Shape was pissed off at him because it had been his idea to do the burnt offering of that old man. That’s not what The Shape had wanted at all, Specs said. So it had let him get infected with some germ as a punishment. Maybe it was true, maybe it was bullshit. Who knew?
“ See, that’s why this is perfect,” he told us. “I’ll be a sacrifice. I’ll give myself to that monster and it’ll save me from dying slow and it’ll keep The Shape happy. He’ll take care of you guys, keep you safe.”
I was absolutely against it. True, The Shape did want something more. I knew that. I felt that. I’d heard it in my mind. My big mistake was telling Specs that. But it was too late.
“ Please, Nash. Please,” he kept saying.
We were all against it…but that pathetic, pleading look in his eyes wore us down. Sean broke first and said it was the only goddamn decent thing we could do for him. And then Janie…
“ He’s our friend,” she told me. “I’m against wasting life of any sort…but we can’t make him suffer. If this is what he wants…I guess you should allow him it.”
There was argument, but he got his way.
We were going to sacrifice Specs.
We were going to give him to The Shape.
15
Sean scavenged us a stretcher and we carried Specs to a warehouse on around sunset. We weren’t going to burn him or any of that fucked up pagan madness. We were going to do it the right way and just let The Shape have him. We set the stretcher atop some crates. We lit candles because Janie said we should. Specs loved all that occult pageantry.
Then it was time.
I’ll never get that night out of my mind. The candles flickering. The cavernous silence. That creeping chill that came in off the river. The warehouse felt like a tomb.
I held his hand and we talked. “Remember that day when we sat on that bench, Nash? We ate Dinty Moore stew and drank Dew. That’s the day I knew you were my best friend in the world.”
I couldn’t take it. I started balling my eyes out. I told them all that I just couldn’t go through with it. I lashed out at Sean and Janie and they just watched me with defeated, sad eyes. Then I looked at Specs fighting for every breath, then I knew I had to do it.
So I summoned The Shape.
I closed my eyes and concentrated on that sphere of darkness in my mind that I always associated with it. Right away, I could feel it coming and I was flooded with a primal terror that was ice-cold, freezing. The atmosphere of the warehouse immediately went from being simply neutral to activated. That’s the only way I can describe it. Around us there was no longer just dead air, but an ether that was charged and deadly and thrumming with energy. The hairs on my arms and at the back of my neck stood up like I had come into contact with a charge of static electricity.
I went down on my knees, absolutely senseless.
Janie and Sean pulled me back to safety.
I smelled a sharp stink of ozone and something like burning flesh, hot blood boiled to steam. Then an awful, acrid stench like melting wires and blown fuses. The warehouse seemed to tremble. The concrete floor vibrated. There was a searing hot flash of something like chain lightening that blinded me momentarily and then the Shape was coming: a boiling black mass like thunderheads getting ready to shoot lightening at the earth. It was a spinning, roaring, unstable irradiated elemental force that came with the heat of coke ovens and the toxic glow of nuclear reactors. Looking at it was like looking into the primeval fires of cosmic creation.
Janie screamed.
Sean fell on his ass trying to get away from it.
The Shape was pulsing, revolving on an axis of pure atomic force that was frightening to behold, a storm of fallout and dust and particulated matter with a heart of superhot plasma. It made a buzzing sound like a million angry hornets.
I stood there, feeling its heat burning the fine
“ See, that’s why this is perfect,” he told us. “I’ll be a sacrifice. I’ll give myself to that monster and it’ll save me from dying slow and it’ll keep The Shape happy. He’ll take care of you guys, keep you safe.”
I was absolutely against it. True, The Shape did want something more. I knew that. I felt that. I’d heard it in my mind. My big mistake was telling Specs that. But it was too late.
“ Please, Nash. Please,” he kept saying.
We were all against it…but that pathetic, pleading look in his eyes wore us down. Sean broke first and said it was the only goddamn decent thing we could do for him. And then Janie…
“ He’s our friend,” she told me. “I’m against wasting life of any sort…but we can’t make him suffer. If this is what he wants…I guess you should allow him it.”
There was argument, but he got his way.
We were going to sacrifice Specs.
We were going to give him to The Shape.
15
Sean scavenged us a stretcher and we carried Specs to a warehouse on around sunset. We weren’t going to burn him or any of that fucked up pagan madness. We were going to do it the right way and just let The Shape have him. We set the stretcher atop some crates. We lit candles because Janie said we should. Specs loved all that occult pageantry.
Then it was time.
I’ll never get that night out of my mind. The candles flickering. The cavernous silence. That creeping chill that came in off the river. The warehouse felt like a tomb.
I held his hand and we talked. “Remember that day when we sat on that bench, Nash? We ate Dinty Moore stew and drank Dew. That’s the day I knew you were my best friend in the world.”
I couldn’t take it. I started balling my eyes out. I told them all that I just couldn’t go through with it. I lashed out at Sean and Janie and they just watched me with defeated, sad eyes. Then I looked at Specs fighting for every breath, then I knew I had to do it.
So I summoned The Shape.
I closed my eyes and concentrated on that sphere of darkness in my mind that I always associated with it. Right away, I could feel it coming and I was flooded with a primal terror that was ice-cold, freezing. The atmosphere of the warehouse immediately went from being simply neutral to activated. That’s the only way I can describe it. Around us there was no longer just dead air, but an ether that was charged and deadly and thrumming with energy. The hairs on my arms and at the back of my neck stood up like I had come into contact with a charge of static electricity.
I went down on my knees, absolutely senseless.
Janie and Sean pulled me back to safety.
I smelled a sharp stink of ozone and something like burning flesh, hot blood boiled to steam. Then an awful, acrid stench like melting wires and blown fuses. The warehouse seemed to tremble. The concrete floor vibrated. There was a searing hot flash of something like chain lightening that blinded me momentarily and then the Shape was coming: a boiling black mass like thunderheads getting ready to shoot lightening at the earth. It was a spinning, roaring, unstable irradiated elemental force that came with the heat of coke ovens and the toxic glow of nuclear reactors. Looking at it was like looking into the primeval fires of cosmic creation.
Janie screamed.
Sean fell on his ass trying to get away from it.
The Shape was pulsing, revolving on an axis of pure atomic force that was frightening to behold, a storm of fallout and dust and particulated matter with a heart of superhot plasma. It made a buzzing sound like a million angry hornets.
I stood there, feeling its heat burning the fine
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