This dark story about depression and happiness first appeared in The Dark Krypt.

 



When he entered his bathroom, Andy encountered a pulp of dangling eyeballs, oozing sores, and black wounds that reeked of damnation.

“Hello, Andy,” the pulp said.

Andy screamed. He screamed so loudly he felt the tiny veins in his eyes burst, screamed with such terror that spots flew before his eyes. He tried to flee, but gray, gooey tendrils grabbed him, held him close to the creature.

“Do not fear me,” the monster said, pulling Andy so close, their faces almost touched. The creature’s face dripped puss and blood. “I’m here to help you.”

“W- Who are you?” Andy managed to ask. “What happened to you?"

The creature laughed--a deep, throaty chuckle. Spit and flakes of skin flew. “You can call me Mister Happiness,” it said. “As to what happened to me, well... Let’s just say, you did, Andy.”

Andy shook his head, still trapped by the tendrils. “You need an ambulance. You are hurt.”

Mister Happiness laughed again. “An ambulance cannot help me, Andy. Only you can.”

“What do you mean?” Andy was feeling sick. He wanted to throw up.

“Let me show you.”

Andy thought that encountering the freak was the most terrifying thing possible. He was wrong. Mister Happiness now opened his jaws to scream. As the jaws opened, the head grew, till Andy was staring into a gaping hole of stench and fumes. The skin pulled back, and the skull emerged from the mouth, screeching, a blood-red tongue dangling between the teeth. Clots of blood and green things flew. Puke and teeth and slime covered Andy. A million demons laughed and danced.

The worst part, however, was the scream itself. It was deafening, louder than the loudest rock concert, a barrage of a million anguished voices. Andy heard devils, men, women, children, animals screaming. The sound flowed through his entire body, flooding each particle with pure horror.

And Andy screamed too, and this scream made his earlier scream sound like a whimper. He screamed till he passed out.

When he woke up, he was lying on a hill. The hill was pure black, as were the clouds above and plains below. A single, black flower grew beside him.

The air carried a strange scent. Slowly Andy realized it was not air at all. It was horror--horror the substance, horror in its purest form. This was the place it dwelled. Andy had become a part of it, was floating through it. 

“Where am I?” he asked.

Mister Happiness replied, “Inside you.”

Yes, Andy realized. Inside him. Inside the darkest, deepest, densest part of his mind, that part of the mind linked to the great terrors beyond human life. The thread between his soul and the universe.

“It is empty,” he said.

Mister Happiness nodded. “It is my home.”

“I’m sorry you have to live here.” 

“Me too. Which is why you will clean it.”

Mister Happiness faded, merging with the wind.

Andy woke up. He was lying on the bathroom floor. When he pushed himself up, it hurt, and when he reached behind his head, his fingers returned bloody.

“Oh, man,” he mumbled. He must have fainted. The vestige of some bad dream fled from his mind; he tried to hold onto it, but the memory faded.

Shakily, he stepped into the bathroom and examined himself in the mirror. He tossed water onto his face, then bandaged the wound. You clumsy ass, he thought. You deserve hurting your head, if you’re stupid enough to slip. You deserve it.

The echo of a whisper filled his head. “...you will clean it...”

Andy froze, his heart leaping and sweat appearing on his brow. He remembered.

Voice trembling, he spoke to his reflection. “So I slipped. It was a mistake. Probably too much stress. Maybe I need to relax for a while.”

He shuffled into the kitchen, took a beer from the fridge, switched on the TV while he drank it.

The next day, he packed his bags and set off to Maui. He spent two weeks there, admiring the girls, catching a tan, swimming. Mister Happiness never returned, and when Andy visited his mind, he found that the terror had left the hill.

He returned home content, in his pocket the number of a girl who lived only half an hour away.

He was better.

When he opened the door to his home, he saw the most beautiful being he had ever seen, a creature of pure light and grace.

“Mister Happiness!” he said. “I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.”

The beautiful creature nodded. “Oh, I’m fine. But I’m afraid there’s someone else who wants to talk to you.” Mister Happiness smiled sadly. “Andy, let me introduce Lady Depression.”

Mister Happiness stepped aside, and Andy began to scream.

 

 

Copyright ©  Daniel Arenson