The Vale of Paradise: An Indiana Hometown Horror Tale

Henry had been up all night, unable to sleep due to the awful smell emanating from the streets outside. He had no idea from which direction it came, but the stench had rolled over downtown Valparaiso around nine o'clock the previous night. The smell was all-encompassing; so powerful it seemed to overwhelm vision and hearing. As he'd walked downtown Lincolnway, everyone else had been grimacing, but in no area did it seem to be any less or more insistent.

The forecast showed bright and sunny weather the entire day. As he stepped onto his back fire escape he felt a smooth wind dance across his face and through his hair, bringing with it the smell of burning flesh, rotting garlic and urine. The stench didn't seem to be riding the wind, but was simply intensified by it.

*

He re-entered his apartment to rummage around his kitchen. It was early still, but he was famished despite the horrific stink. As he poured himself some Honey-Nut Cheerios he was disappointed to find that the usual softly sweet aroma did not arise to greet him. He loved that smell; it made him furious that some jerk at the city plumbing could be ruining his favorite breakfast, possibly forevermore, by forgetting to turn on a pump of some kind.

He attempted to eat anyway, hoping taste would save the day, but he knew better. Even when battling something such as a simple cold, lack of smell could throw the tastes off everything. The tiny O's tasted like ash in his mouth. He could barely chew it was so disgusting. As he forced the mouthful down his throat, his thoughts turned to more radical theories. He had a terrifying image that Armageddon had come and what was left of the world was nothing but stench and ash.

A quick look out the window assured him that if Armageddon had arrived, there were certainly a lot of people who hadn't received the golden ticket. His stomach had started to roil at the unwelcome Cheerios and he was soon hunched over, heaving like a cat coughing up a hairball, until his bite of cereal lay on the carpet next to something...else.

He picked up the bloody jalapeno-shaped object and gazed at it. Something was seriously wrong with him; this was no bit of cheerio, this looked... flesh like. He had to get to the doctor immediately. He grabbed his keys, pocketed his unfamiliar innard, and stumbled blindly down the stairs of his building.

As he crashed through his red front door and onto the street, the sunlight blazed across his vision, forcing him to hide his face with a hand. He flailed at his car lock as he tried desperately to open the door, but it wouldn't budge. He heard a cry of anger from the outdoor patio of a nearby restaurant and peeked through his fingers at the car in front of him.

A poodle peered out at him from the open window of a green sedan. This was not his car. He waved off the angry owner, and glanced around frantically for his vehicle. His eyes fell upon the answer; a street cleaning sign. Today was Tuesday, which meant last night was Monday, which meant his car had been towed.

"SHHHHIIIIII*!" he screamed. Of course today would be the day to garner a hundred and sixty dollar towing fee. Well, he didn't have the cash, and he had to get to the doctor. Valparaiso being a small town meant that the doctor was at most two to three miles away. He could make it.

He started walking, tripping over uneven residential sidewalks and dodging overgrown landscaping. He was starving, the stench was overwhelming, and he had coughed up an organ of some kind; he had to make it.

Forty-five minutes later as he limped into his doctor's office, his vision had clouded dark red from hunger. He stuttered a request see the doctor and the receptionist quickly agreed after taking a quick glance at his current state. He was rushed to a sterile room and shown to a bed where he was given a glass of water and quickly left alone. He heard a commotion in the hallway as he tried to sip his water. He knew he must look bad but he was glad he didn't have to convince anyone that he needed to be seen right away.

He sputtered and gargled his water but he could not force himself to swallow; it tasted like pure ipecac. He became so angry that he threw his glass against the wall, upon which it shattered pleasantly. What was happening to him? The door finally opened and his doctor rushed in, slipping on the glass fragments. As she extended an arm to stop her fall, she imbedded several glass shards into the palm of her hand.

Henry whizzed around, his nose picking up on the sweetest scent he could have ever imagined. He yearned with his entire body, his throat pulsed involuntarily; he must eat.

*

The office had emptied by the time he had finished with the doctor. From her palm to her heart to her brain, he had devoured her. He sat next to the hollowed shell of the woman, gathering his thoughts and processing what had occurred. He felt strong, stronger than he ever had before. His vision had cleared and he realized he could see with startling clarity. He was mulling over the fortune that he didn't need to spend money on a doctor's visit and could pay his towing fee when he remembered how he looked to everyone else. They would never release his car to someone looking the way he did.

Wait... how did he know what he looked like? Why did he have an image of himself on a hospital bed? Come to think of it, there was a lot he now knew that he shouldn't have. He knew all the symptoms of endometriosis, knew that restless leg syndrome was a scam born of collusion between pharmaceutical companies, and knew that the placebo effect outperformed most current anti-depressants on the market. Did he gain this knowledge from the imbuement of his victim? The answer was obvious: Absolutely.

With this new... learning method... Henry could learn and do anything, literally anything! He sprang from his seat, feeling jovial, and rushed outside- where he was met at gunpoint by a legion of squad cars. His joviality turned to fear once more as he raised his arms in surrender, the sick feeling in his gut returning. With no further warning, he was forced to his knees by grotesque heaving, his spine undulating like a worm with the force of his coughing. What emerged this time was completely recognizable by anyone who's taken any health class. His left lung currently lay draped on the lawn of his doctor's office.

Amidst a swirl of activity and cursing, Henry managed to cut loose and run. Faster than he thought possible, he ran. Once the change completed, his new life awaited him, his new life in the Vale of Paradise. Only the chosen could live here now.