Halloween Haunts 2013: The Slumbering One by Jinx Strange

By the time you read this, it will be too late.

My time is short, so I will be brief. Whoever you are, however you have found this journal, know that I wanted this. Welcomed it. But that when you see me next, I will be forever changed. I will have heard my master’s call.

So follows the true and faithful account of The Slumbering One.

15 February 2013 – My goodly wife Sarah has reported to me a series of dreams in which a speck of stardust emerges from a yawning black void to find purchase within her body. Dr. Humbleberry suggests hysteria and recommends bed rest.

21 February 2013 – Sarah has taken quite ill. The expulsion of her humours has become regular and I can do aught but wring my hands without our bedchamber. Simple indigestion, I’m sure, but cholera is the word on everyone’s lips that they refuse to say. Mine most of all.

15 March 2013 – The Ides find dear Sarah’s condition little improved. Dr. Humbleberry assures me that the oily fingers of cholera are not upon my sweet wife, but pulls me into confidence to caution patience and fluids.

19 April 2013 – My loving wife lingers in her miserable state, her humours all turned against her. Her condition has manifested disturbing, unnatural cravings. The servants have all quit in fear for their health. Dr. Humbleberry has ceased making house calls.

8 May 2013 – Imagine my delight to find Sarah working in the garden this morning. Her eyes were fever-bright, and she seemed possessed of unusual energy. Strange, but I dare not be anything but grateful.

14 June 2013 – Sarah has undergone…changes. Her limbs have swollen, suggesting dropsy. I called upon Dr. Humbleberry in town only to find his practice boarded up! Passersby refused to look me in the eye, denying he had ever practiced there! Madness! Meanwhile, dear Sarah’s gaze lingers too long on passing baby carriages. I am left uneasy.

1 July 2013 – I find myself making this entry nearly a thousand miles from the last. I remember only snatches of visions. Men, boxes, a gruelling carriage ride. It is cold here. “It’s what he wants,” Sarah whispers at me, her eyes unfocused. “It is better here,” she says. “Better.” Where am I?

12 August 2013 – Sarah is experiencing some form of mutagenesis. I barely recognize her. It is abundantly clear that what can only be described as a cult has formed around her. Tonight she placed my hand on her swollen belly and I felt something… move.

15 September 2013 – The cult held a private ceremony today in one of the members’ residence (presumably to avoid notice by the constabulary). They presented us with terrifying, arcane apparati in anticipation of the arriving scion, The Slumbering One. Cake was served.

22 September 2013 – It is Mabon. I find myself in a fugue, erecting a monolith I have heard referred to as a packenplai by other cultists. I find myself enjoying this confusing, frustrating work in service to my new master. Fleshy idols skinned in soft furs have emerged, depicting every manner of beast. Frogs seem to be popular. Perhaps The Slumbering One is an amphibious demigod.

1 October 2013 – My dear, sweet Sarah’s role as vessel has never been more clear. Her abdomen is distended unbelievably and she grows ever more anxious for the Reckoning. She informed me that The Slumbering One is due to arrive on the 300th day, the anniversary of Constantine the Great’s receiving his Vision of the Cross. I am not prepared.

—–

What horror writer doesn’t hope for a Halloween baby, especially with the already-Lovecraftian setup that pregnancy provides? The Slumbering One, my first, is due October 27th. Perhaps he’ll arrive four days late, but in any case, he will never want for great birthday parties.

An October baby is exciting for me because I love to be scared. After all, that’s what Halloween is about, right? I seek out haunted houses, indulge in the most gruesome movies. Everything I love becomes, at least for a short time, mainstream. I love it. I love Fall and I love Halloween.

Thing is, I am a horror writer. I’m a little desensitized to the things that have become my job. I haven’t really been scared around Halloween in a long time.

This year is different.

I’m terrified and the best part is that having a baby is chock full of familiar horror elements played out in white-knuckled reality: Blood. Viscera. Gore. Screaming. Crying. Newborns come with a tiny knot of flesh through which they used to derive sustenance and you literally have to watch it rot and fall off. That’s pretty metal. That’s pretty Halloween.

Sleep deprivation. Paranoia. Fear. Vomit, if you’re an Exorcist fan. I have the same brain-hooked-to-a-battery feeling I had when I saw C.H.U.D. when I was a kid. And I’m the co-star of this low-budget flick. Life and death is on the line! Oh, snap!

But I’m very lucky. My leading lady is more of the chainsaw-for-an-arm ass-kicker variety than the LOL-oops-my-ankle variety. We underwent a huge move so that we’d have her amazing cult…er…family for support. It’s been as hard as it needed to be but just easy enough for me to enjoy the ride.

Your first child is the perfect horror story and mine couldn’t have come at a better time. Sure, it’ll get messy, but I’ll probably survive to the end. I mean, from a literary perspective, I’m not a disposable character. Unless George R.R. Martin wrote it…

Shit.

Maybe he’ll be born in November.

JINX STRANGE is a horror and dark fantasy writer from Atlanta, GA raising a cult/family in Madison, WI. He is the writerly half of the comedy-horror production team, 400lb Productions with partner and animator Jason Barnes on the animated series SlenderPhil and upcoming short film, Mr. Bun.

In addition to working hard on his first commercial novel, you can get a taste of Jinx’s writing in his ongoing dark fantasy serial, Silent City as well as the absurdity often found on his blog. He also does “the Facebook” and “the Twitter”. Jinx joined HWA in early 2013.