Free Uncanny Day by Cory Clubb

filth bloomed up into what was left of the fading light.
    In a flash, the thing rose to its feet. It curled Stephanie’s lips back into a snarl and spoke again, the words pouring out like liquid ink. “We thank you.” She, or it, looked down at me.
    â€œWhat…?” was all the reply I could manage. My body jerked as one of the brown bulbs overhead sparked and blew out, sending shards of glass to the ground.
    The Stephanie thing saw it happen too and slowly licked its lips.
    I was a statue, my mind torn in a panic.
    Fixed on me, the thing moved closer, only it wasn’t solid—it was like smoke or some kind of vapor. Something hit my right shoulder from above and I looked up to see what it was. The ceiling had begun to crack overhead, splitting like a lake of thin ice. Tiny fissures crept along the tiles, raining down bits of debris all over. What was happening?
    I shot my attention back to the thing just in time to see it raise its arms out to each side and lean back its head, embracing the destruction. Stephanie’s body unnaturally jolted and contorted itself, and for a split second, her true face flooded to life.
    â€œNolan! Get out!”
    It was Stephanie’s voice, her real voice.
    Then, as if being overtaken again, the life drained back out of her, and that something else took control again. It hissed viciously at me, showing its jigsaw teeth. I watched it close its eyes and lift off the floor like fog. Then Stephanie faded away like a ghost. The whole room began to crumble all around me, and I didn’t want to stick around to find out what happened next. I broke contact and returned to my own head.
    Back in the hospital room now, I released my hold on Stephanie’s eyelid and watched it slide closed again. Then all hell broke loose.

Chapter Twenty
    THE NURSE SEEMED LIKE he hadn’t moved a muscle and was still filling out notes when I returned to Stephanie’s bedside. My breathing began to jolt into spasms. He looked over at me, probably thinking I was crying, or losing it. In truth, I was.
    I quickly stepped back from the bed but kept my focus on Stephanie’s still body. Then came the unmistakable sound of the heart rate monitor flatlining. The nurse’s face gripped in panic as another alarm started going off. He yelled out into the hallway for help, and I took my cue and slunk out of the room. Another nurse sped past at full sprint, not even taking stock of my presence. I made it halfway down the hallway toward where I had left Dean. I turned my head as a man and woman rushed down the hallway as well. Stephanie’s parents, no doubt.
    Ahead I saw the waiting room. Dean saw me first.
    â€œWhoa! What happened?” he asked.
    â€œGo. Just go,” was all I could muster, my own voice sounding faint.
    When we got back to the elevator it was already ajar, as if waiting for us. Inside I punched the button for the ground floor and the silver doors closed, introducing me to my mirror-distorted reflection. My heart was racing and felt like it was ready to burst out of my chest. My head throbbed in a mess of questions and fear. Dean was talking, but it was all mush. Then I saw it. My reflection again in the elevator doors, a spot of red on my upper lip. I wiped a mixture of sweat and blood away from my face, my hands quivering the entire time, my whole body just buzzing.
    I tried to make sense of just one thing that had just happened, just one. I couldn’t do it. It all felt so unreal. Had it happened, or had I imagined it? Was Stephanie going to be okay? Who or what was that thing in her mind? Why had her room started to crumble? Among my questions I could hear Dean’s voice drone on, like I was trapped inside a car speeding down a hill of thoughts and he was on the outside frantically trying to keep it from crashing into the river. It was too late—everything went black as the last question whispered itself inside my mind. Was Stephanie Daniels