The Urging Tendrils


The Urging Tendrils by JohnnyBean

by Johnny Bean on Thursday, May 26, 2011 at 2:27pm

The Urging Tendrils


Forward: This is a first rough draft for a short story I'm writing. I think it's kind of boring in spots but it gets the idea across just fine. Ignore any misspellings or typos that may be there. Ha Ha enjoy.














  Rick always wanted to get away, always wanted to see what the world could offer him. He made a deal with his parents that when he graduated he could head off for his adventure but as soon as summer was over he had to go to the local community collage and make something of himself. Rick thought this was a hell of a deal. The last day of school came and went. He partied with his mates and prepared for his summer long journey with excitement he hadn't felt since he was a kid on his way to Colorado with his family. He loved to travel and always wanted to head off on foot just see where he ended up. He had always known what direction he would take. It seemed to haunt him. As a child he would sit and stare northward down the road. It was as if something was urging him to go in that direction. He spent many hours throughout his life staring at the northern skies and dreaming.



   Rick awoke early that morning, ate his breakfast and said his goodbyes to his parents. As he stepped out his front door and into the clean neighborhood street he stopped and stared northward. " The first step of the rest of my life." Rick said to himself as he started out, heading north, as he had always dreamed of doing. He walked for miles the first day. Needing to escape his hometown. By the time he stopped and found a good place to pitch his tent it was near midnight. Rick zipped open his bag and ate some beef jerky he had packed the day before and quickly fell asleep.



   Later that night Rick woke up startled for what seemed to him no reason at all. His head was hurting like someone had just kicked it with cleats on. Rick sat up, nervous and decided to make a cup of instant coffee and then go ahead and get moving again. As he took a sip from his thermos Rick heard some kind of rustling outside his tent in the woods near by. He zipped open his tent and cautiously went outside. He shined his torch light to the nearby woods were he heard the noise. At first he didn't see anything and then he heard the rustling again. He quickly moved his light to the source of the noise. What he saw startled him at first. It seemed to be a tail of some kind. It smacked the ground a couple of times like a beaver slapping the water. It made a hard thud as it hit the dirt and underbrush, then it sort of slithered away or pulled back into the dark of the woods. "That's a big snake." Rick uneasy, said to himself with doubt. Rick tossed out his coffee, still warm and packed up his gear. He thought it best to get the hell out of there. A snake that size could easily cause him damage.



    He walked for a few hours and the sun started to peek over the trees. His head was still hurting and his stomach began to growl furiously at him to get something to eat. He pulled out his cell phone and located a diner a few miles south east. As he headed south east he noticed his head stopped hurting. He thought it was just the hunger and the excitement if being out on his own that caused his headache. He could see the diner in the distance now and he felt like things were starting to look better than his first day and night out on his own. Walking the roads seemed much better than using the trails in the woods. They would only last so long anyway. He would eventually have to use the road ways and possibly hitchhike. May as well get a head start on it and get as far he can.



  As he reached the diner parking lot the sun was almost right on top of him. The distance was further than he thought and he was running low on energy. He needed a boost. The diner door was hot to the touch but the blast of cold air felt good as he pushed it open. The atmosphere rapidly changed as the door shut. The diner was dark, murky and the people sitting here and there seemed very dismal and emotionless. He sat down at the bar and awaited the waitress. He had to ring the bell to get her attention. Everyone in the place jumped at the sound. Like it woke them from a deep sleep. They all gazed at him with wet, bloodshot eyes, then returned to their slowly eaten meals. The waitress made her way to Rick rubbing her face with her hands as she did. Her lipstick smeared. Was she sweaty, Rick asked himself. This place was starting to creep him out. He thought maybe they had lost someone. A town hero, maybe. "What can I get you." The waitress said bluntly. "Well, I guess a burger and fries would be great. Add a glass of water and a shake to that." Rick said and then smiled at her. He tried to discern her name tag through the grease and whatever stains. Beatrice, on white, surrounded in a blue thread, covered in various stains. "Sorry, all out of burger. All we have today is salad potato with gravy and a side of snaps." Beatrice said in a monotone voice. "Okay" Rick said and looked around. He could see on everyone's plate a small potato like thing with little pink, fleshy cords sticking out of it and drenched in a thick clear paste. On the side lay what looked like to Rick to be twigs. "How about just a water, please," Rick said not having any desire to try that thing. " Are you sure, it's a delicacy." Beatrice said with a little more feeling this time. Rick felt the urge to puke as he looked around one more time to take another look. " No, that's okay. A water will be fine." Beatrice turned and grabbed a cup from under the counter.



    As Rick sat and drank his water the nausea started to subside. Rick pulled out his phone and looked the place up one more time to see if it was some kind of specialty diner. He gave it a very bad review after searching for rare delicacies. He finished his water and slowly got up and made his way out of the diner and back out to the blazing summer sun. He backed himself to the road and took a picture of the creepy diner for his review.



  It didn't take Rick long to catch a ride. First he was picked up by a little old lady that reminded him of Miz Tisdale from the Dukes of Hazzard .She liked to drive faster than Rick liked to go. She also had a foul mouth but Rick found this to be entertaining. She told him as she dropped him off that she could only see a little bit out of one eye and if she got anywhere it was by the grace of God and he was lucky to have made it out alive. Gravel shot at Rick as she punched the gas and zoomed away. He headed North from there and it was pitch dark by the time he found another ride.



  The diesel went right by him and slowed to a stop making their usual squeals and huffs. From a distance the truck blended in with the darkness and it looked like a bunch of small hovering lights in the shape of a truck. The passenger door opened as Rick approached it. He climbed up into the cab to see a dirty fellow with a large beer belly. "Where ya headed and what's your name? Mine's Thomas, Thomas Sanders. How ya doin'?" Thomas said in a hurry. "I'm doing okay, my name is Rick Barton and I'm heading north just because." Rick said happy to see a smiling face. They shook hands and Thomas started in. Thomas liked to talk and he talked rather fast. He spent a lot of his time on the road and enjoyed company when he had it. He seemed the typical trucker. A little eccentric.



   Rick's head began to hurt again as the night moved on. Thomas hardly letting Rick get a word in. The man could talk for hours and never change pace. Rick needed some sleep and was thankful when Thomas decided to pull over to a rest stop. He had almost forgotten his experience at the diner until he saw the picture he took on his phone. It sent chills up his spine. Thomas opened the curtain behind the seats of the truck and climbed into his bed.  "There is room on the floor here next to the bed. I promise I won't step on ya." Thomas said as he yawned. Rick climbed down into the cramped space but it was nice to stretch out in an air conditioned space after all that driving.



  As Rick slept he tossed he tried to toss and turn. He finally found a comfortable position and fell asleep. He dreamed of the diner. {He sat drinking his water. Watching people devour tiny fetus with pink, fleshy cords protruding out all over them. The diner began to shake. Pictures and nick-knacks started falling and breaking on the floor. The floor itself began to crack and split open. As it did fireworks began to shoot out of the space left by the gaping wound in the floor. Smoke started filling the diner and Rick found it hard to breath. HE gasped for air as the diner shook itself apart.} Rick awoke still unable to breath. He could barley see a set of eyes underneath Thomas' bed peering at him. A hand was raised at him but it's fingers had stretched into thorny tentacles. The mutated fingers had wrapped themselves around Rick's head and had cut off his ability to breath. He wanted to scream. He could barley move, trapped in that small place next to that tiny bed. Rick could hear Thomas snoring loudly and see his large gut moving up and down along with his labored breathing. Rick could feel the stretched, thorny fingers wrapping further and further around his face and neck. This thing was going to eat him. He began to thrash as hard as he possibly could in that small space. As he did the eyes came closer and became a face. The face of a man, it looked half eaten and decayed. Pink, fleshy cords spilled from around it's eyes and headed for Rick's head. Rick kicked and punched and thrashed as hard as he could.



     "Louise!" Rick heard Thomas yell in a surprised yet disciplinary manner. Rick could see the pink cords retract back into the depths of the man's eye sockets. The mutated fingers loosened their grip and began to unwrap themselves from Rick's neck and head. " What have I told you, Louise? Huh?" Thomas yelled. Rick climbed up and fell back in the passenger seat. His face stinging all over from the thorny grip of the mutated hand. " You have to finish one before you can start another! This is the last time I'm telling you, Louise!" Rick grabbed his bag and unlocked the passenger door. He jumped out of the truck and began running as fast as he could. He screamed as loud as he could. He sounded like a girl on a roller coaster. He could hear Thomas yelling in the distance. " Now see! There goes another one! That was a stupid move, Louise!" Rick crashed into the woods and ran for some time before he fell. His head was pounding.



   He remained there for hours and awoke to a pitch black woods. The clouds had blocked the moon and he couldn't see anything. His face was on fire and his head felt like it was going to split open. He rummaged through his bag for his phone so he could call for help. It wasn't there or in any of his pockets. He must have left it behind with Thomas and Louise. Rick's tears stung his lacerations. He had to get help. Rick climbed to his feet and started heading north. He was sure help would be there.



   It took Rick a while to notice through the pounding of his head the noises that surrounded him. He could hear rustling, snapping limbs and leave shaking. Things were moving all around him. He started screaming for help and running deeper into the woods and further north. As he progressed his head and face got worse. He could feel things moving within his face. In his head and neck. As Rick ran he could see a light in the distance, through the thick trees. All the trees seemed to move. Some slapped the ground violently with more flexibility than a tree should have. Rick was nearly hit several times. As he got closer to the light Rick could see little fleshy, pink cords twisting and turning on every branch of every tree. Every tree seemed more a giant tentacle violently slapping. Rick pushed through. He could feel the pink cords slowly borrowing in his ears and eventually poke out and begin to twist and wave in the air.



   Rick made his way to the colorful light. He came to a small clearing and in the middle was what looked like a fountain from the fourth of July just spraying out of the ground. Everything was mutating and twisting around it. Tentacles and pink, fleshy cords slapping and twisting. Rick gave out one last scream as the fleshy, pink cords rose up his throat and out of his mouth, cutting off his scream. What was left of Rick laid beside the mysterious spraying lights and melted into  a series of thorny, fleshy cords.

JohnnyBean JohnnyBean
36-40, M
May 26, 2011