Flash Fiction - Infestation

The day he was forcibly removed from his research position, certain words were used that could have been used as grounds for a lawsuit. Insane, unhinged, and certifiable were the pick of the bunch, but rather than lawyering up, Dr. Evan Ballinger decided to continue his work at home.

The home in question was a sprawling New York City apartment, bought and paid for by the company that had let him go. He was sure that they would come for that, too, but they seemed content to let the good doctor stay put, although that might not have been the case were they granted access to the apartment in its current state.

Notes and diagrams covered every inch of wall space, with threads of every color imaginable linking each piece to create what looked like a scale map of the city’s subway system. Aquariums, each teeming with cockroaches of all shapes and sizes, littered the apartment, as did vials, beakers, and scientific equipment. Instead of an upscale spot in the Upper West Side, it now looked like Frankenstein’s lair.

Ballinger stared through a microscope, zooming in on the massive roach held in place by a needle through the abdomen. The insect struggled to break free, legs flailing as though on some imaginary treadmill. As sturdy as cockroaches were, this one should have been long since dead. The serum was working, and eternal life would soon be his.

The scientist stood and pumped his fist. “Who’s unhinged now, fuckers?” he roared.

The pinned roach continued to struggle, finally breaking free of its confines. It scuttled across the workbench, dropped to the floor and raced up the leg of the being that had inflicted such pain, heading for the open mouth at the peak of its climb.

Ballinger gagged as the bug crawled inside and forced its way into his throat. The doctor jammed his fingers into his mouth, at first trying to grab the six-legged invader and then attempting to work his gag reflex in hopes of expelling the creature. Neither attempt worked.

He could feel it moving down his throat, making it harder and harder to breathe. Ballinger began to panic, turning this way and that in hopes of finding something to help him get the thing out. He snatched up a scalpel and began to perform a tracheotomy, but as he reached inside the opening, the roach moved out of reach. Spots danced in front of his eyes as each breath became a chore. The doctor staggered and crashed into a row of aquariums, each of which toppled in a domino effect.

The freed insects crawled over the doctor and headed for every available orifice. Before long, the scientist lay still, save for the subtle movements just below the surface of his skin…

…and then his legs began to twitch.

***

Victor stood under the scalding water of the shower and let it wash over him in waves, hoping to erase the stench of another late-night bender. He loved all that the city had to offer, but the temptations it laid out were almost impossible to ignore for a man as weak as he.

THUMP!! CRASH!!

“Fuck me running.” Victor reached up and thumped on the ceiling. “Shut the fuck up, you crazy old bastard.” While he wasn’t on speaking terms with the man living above him, Victor had seen enough of his neighbor to know that he was completely off his rocker.

The sounds from above quieted and Victor grinned, delighted that his complaints had been noted and obeyed. He moved back under the water, but it began to sputter until it dried up completely, save for a few random drips. Remembering how well his last blows had worked, Victor hammed his fist against the wall that housed the water pipes, hoping to jar something loose. He succeeded.

The shower head tore free, and a deluge of cockroaches came tearing out of the pipe, dropping onto his drenched hair and trying to find purchase. As Victor opened his mouth to scream, the insects raced inside, choking him and sending him crashing out of the tub and onto the bathroom floor, where he eventually lay still…

…until his legs began to twitch.