Any connection to “Lighthouse” is purely possibly coincidential. Despite the fact that this story came first, it DID give me the idea…which took a loooong time to come out of it.
May 2nd: New exhibit’s coming in today. Finally, a change of scenery. Not that it won’t get old after a few days of standing near it, staring blankly at a wall, but better than nothing. Something about the Permian, from what I can tell. I told Frank that I just hoped it had some halfway interesting dinosaurs, and the sonovabitch laughed at me. Just because I’m not a fucking nerd like him doesn’t mean I’m a goddamned idiot. So I haven’t ever been bored enough to memorize every little plaque and display tag in the whole museum – so what? God I hate him. The pieces should be done moving tomorrow.
Nothing else. Same old: Walked, watched, had a snack.
I wish the vending machine in the lobby would stock Doritos again.
May 3rd: Exhibit’s being set up in fits and starts. The fossils are all damned small (biggest one so far is probably the size of my palm), but I’m glad of it – there’re models of what the bones and shells would’ve looked like alive. Most of them make cockroaches look charming. Frank caught me wincing at one and laughed. Bastard sounds like some kind of bird with tar in its lungs.
Walked, watched, snacked.
Harriet complained a lot tonight.
May 4th: I take back everything I said about the exhibit. They just unloaded their star piece, and the fucker’s bigger than I am. Frank says it’s a sea scorpion, a rare one, and then he babbled on and on about how near-perfectly preserved it was. Biggest thing in the seas, top predator of its age, unchallenged, blah blah blah till my ears were ready to fall off. He was enjoying it, too. I saw that look in his eye again; he likes it when I’m uncomfortable and can’t call him on it. Asshole.
Walked, watched, snacked.
There’s a poster that goes with the fossil. It has a picture. I wish it didn’t.
May 5th: Yes, that thing’s the centerpiece all right. The sea scorpion’s sitting right there in its slab, surrounded by all the little ones like satellites – at a safe distance. I’d give that thing space too, and I’d imagine so did they, back in the day. I wonder how many of them were eaten by it. Or something like it.
Walked, watched, snacked.
Didn’t see Frank all day. Happily.
May 6th: Work was fine – and again, Frank-less (hope he’s home sick) – but home was hell. Harriet went on, and on, and ON. Whining about my job, whining about the house, whining about why I “never do anything fun with her anymore”… for fuck’s sake woman, I work overtime on a security job at the most boring-ass place in the city, my scheduled shift changes with no warning whatsoever every other day, my closest coworker is a piece of piss in a cesspit, and you want to know why I have no energy at the end of the day? Fuck you Harriet, you stupid bitch.
Walked, watched, snacked.
God I wish I could slap her.
May 7th: Frank’s back, and he was sick after all. Smirked at him all day, let the little shit have a taste of his own medicine, see how he likes it. He looked pale and twitchy, but who knows whether that was from the aftermath of the flu or me.
Walked, watched, snacked.
The lobby vending machine has Doritos again. No cool ranch though. Damnit.
May 8th: The exhibit’s finished most of its setup. They saved the model (life-sized) of the sea scorpion for last. It’s positioned so that it points almost right at my station. If I don’t want the damned thing eyeing me in the jugular I need to prop myself up against the wall in a weird way until my arm goes to sleep.
Walked, watched, snacked.
Dad called this kind of shit “the heebie-jeebies.” Now I know what he meant. It has too many eyes. Just four of them, but that’s four too many. And they’re all looking right at me.
May 9th: Frank felt well enough to start mouthing off at me again in that pissy little way of his that he thinks is so clever. I told him to go fuck himself. He got all shocked and offended – as if he had no idea he’d been “a nuisance.” Told him he could kill the attitude or I’d give him another sick leave personally. Little prick should keep a lot quieter around here now.
Walked, watched, snacked.
Thought I’d get used to the model. I’m not.
May 10th: I’m on night shift for “the foreseeable future” now and I’m sure it’s Frank’s fault. I don’t know how he did it, but that little fucker looked smug today right after I learned about the schedule change. All I could not to punch him in his stupid, whiny little face. I don’t relish the thought of spending the night alone with that thing staring at me.
Walked, watched, snacked.
Harriet was at me again.
May 11th: God, that woman won’t shut up. On and on and on. She complained at me all last evening about the new shift schedule, and kept it up all day. Then she started whining as I left that I hadn’t done anything but laze about. Goddamned bitch. Why can’t people just leave me the hell alone?
Walked, watched, snacked.
It’s hard to eat with the thing looking at you. You start to think it might be hungry.
May 12th: Well, I found one unexpected benefit of my new scheduling – I see fuck-all of Frank nowadays. Unfortunately, I get to see five times as much of Harriet. Damnit, she WILL NOT SHUT UP. I’m trying to get more rest during the day so I’m at least half-alert on duty, but she seems to think that I’m just being a lazy bastard. And whenever I try to explain it to her she cuts me off with rambling about how I’m always making excuses and “being mean to her.” I should show her what the real meaning of that is someday.
Walked, watched, snacked. In the dark.
I’m actually looking forward to work now. I don’t have to cope with anyone or any of their bullshit. Just three things to do. Easy ones too.
May 13th: I’ve found a way around Harriet’s rantings now – I just ignore her and go have a nap with the door shut. She sulks about it, but she’s quieter that way. I bumped into Frank on the way into work. He looked surprised at how happy I seemed. Go on; keep dropping the ball like that, you asshole.
Walked, watched, snacked.
I could get used to this.
May 14th: Harriet actually woke me up this afternoon to have “a very serious talk.” That’s apparently bitch-code for “I want to complain at you and you can’t interrupt me or you’re mean.” It turned into a bit of a shouting argument – and those always end with her crying and swearing at me. It’s all a show anyways. She scurried out to plan her next move through the sobs after a while, and I locked the door after her. I’d better make a habit of that.
Walked, watched, snacked.
I think I’m even getting used to that blank-eyed stare coming from the model. It’s the only other thing in the building, we might as well get along. Even though it still gives me the creeps when it watches me eat.
May 15th: It turns out locking the door isn’t such a great idea – Harriet wanted to get her purse for some reason or another after she’d left it in the bedroom. She wouldn’t stop yelling, even after I opened up and threw the thing to her. The only way to shut her up was to lock it again, and it took her a while to get tired of screaming at the closed door. Maybe I’ll get lucky and the bitch’ll lose her voice.
Walked, watched, snacked.
I left a chip in front of the display, tucked behind a sign and just to the side of the model. Maybe now the damned thing’ll stop staring at me.
May 16th: I got back from work and found that she’d left. Well, at least I know why she was so eager to get her hands on that purse. She took all her stuff too – must’ve been busy moving all night. Probably got a few of her drinking buddies to help. Well, good riddance. She didn’t take any of my stuff and it’ll be a lot cheaper to keep everything going now. First Frank, now Harriet. The world’s full of assholes that’re out to get me, and every time they give me their best shot it just makes things more convenient for me. Just like Dad. The bastard kicked me out of the house and within three months I was holding down a better job than the old fucker ever had. And now there’s no one left to bug me. All alone, no need for family, friends, or shoal. The way it should be.
Walked, watched, snacked.
The chip was gone. I guess someone’s brat noticed it there in the middle of the day and snatched it. I put another one there. I’m not sure why. It’s not staring anymore, though.
May 17th: Best day of my life. No Harriet, no noise, nobody. Just alone. I ate, I slept, I got up and left for work as the sun went down. Feels perfect. Alone, as it should be. Don’t need anyone else. I’m the biggest predator on a reef full of dawdling prey.
Walked, stared, snacked.
The chip was gone again. Too many greedy little spawn around here. I tossed the next one past the exhibit barrier. No way to get at it unless you’re willing to climb in, and it’s half-hidden behind the model’s base.
May 18th: I got to work and saw Frank on the way in again. He still wasn’t looking too well – sickly and weak as ever. Amazing he hasn’t been hunted down by now. Gave him a big smile and a wink. The asshole stiffened up harder than his dick’d ever been. Let him stew on that for a while. How do I like my petty punishment, you puny prick? Just fine, thanks.
Walked, stared, snacked.
The new chip was missing. I put another one in. I don’t want it to start staring again.
May 19th: As I signed in, I was told I’m going to be put back on the afternoon shift again. Frank. Again. And I’d just really started to enjoy this. And gotten used to the sleep cycle. What a colossally pathetic move of him. Weak and weedy little jerk, too cowardly to just face me. He knows I’m better than him, bigger than him. This’s my shift, my life, and they won’t meddle in it anymore. I’ll think of something – except I probably won’t need to. Do what comes naturally. Nothing they can do to me.
Walked, stared, snacked.
Put in a new chip. It’s looking at me again, though. Maybe it wants something else.
May 20th: Tracked down Frank today. I was friendly, really friendly. We had a casual conversation about our respective shifts. He was pretty nervous – but not quite nervous enough that he didn’t mention that he was on the late-night shift now. My shift. Can’t have that, Frank. My territory, my hunting ground.
Walked, stared, snacked.
Didn’t eat the chip, won’t take it, maybe it wants something else. Doesn’t look the same in the daylight. Predators hunt by night, right? Maybe that’s when it’s awake.
May 21st: Exhausted all day and now can’t sleep. Isn’t good. Can’t have this. If I’m tired, Frank’ll know I’m weak. He’ll try to take advantage of that. Got to show that little shit who’s the biggest. I can use this latest spit he’s flung at me as an advantage – trick him into thinking I’m weak hurt crippled easy prey. I want my night back, got to show him in charge.
Walked, stared, snacked.
Predators hunt at night.
May 22nd: Yawned all day, half-asleep and dozy. Went home I was almost sleeping on my feet passed Frank he looked happy. Now that he’s overconfident I can deal with him. he won’t see it coming he’s not listening to his instincts unwary prey. Biggest predator.
Hunted, stared, snacked.
Night now.
May 23rd: Found him. Easy hunt. He thinks too much, can’t move can’t act on instinct. Tried to find a weapon. stupid man stupid shit, little weakling, too stupid to fight to bite to claw.
Hunted, stared, snacked.
What do I do with the body?
May 24th: skipped work came in at night stared at me wouldn’t stop staring at me chips aren’t any good anymore maybe it wants something else. nice night night nice hunting hours. easy to see the prey prey’s eyes don’t see can’t see but I can see. Fed it. fed.
hunted stared fed.
kill tastes suck and lap tear blood tastes good best.
Copyright Jamie Proctor, 2009.