“Through the window, I saw the Ugly, and the Ugly was inside you.”

“Lynn, it’s Doctor Lawrence, can you open up? Please?” The psychiatrist asked, knocking on the apartment door.

“Dr. Lawrence, I can’t believe the police called you. You shouldn’t have come.” Lynn stressed.

“Lynn, it would make everyone out here, myself, Roger, and the police, feel better if you opened the door.”

“I’m afraid I can’t do that; you, of all people, should understand why.”

“Does this have to do with that infection you claim to have? Lynn, I warned you against coming off your medication? I told you your symptoms manifest an underlying mania brought on by the realization of past trauma. There is nothing wrong with your skin. Why don’t you come out of there, and we can discuss this?”

“If you think she’s going to hurt herself or if she is a threat to others, I have to send the team inside.” The tactical police officer at the end of the hallway said in Dr. Lawrence’s earpiece.

“Give me a few more minutes to talk her down from this.”

“How is Roger?” Lynn sniffled from behind the apartment door.

“He’s fine, Lynn. The paramedics are treating him now.” Dr. Lawrence said, implying there was no permanent damage to her fiancé. The bloody wound across Roger’s cheek and the head dressing applied by the paramedics told a different story.

“Tell Roger I never meant to hurt him. Really, I didn’t, but the Ugly was smeared all over him. I had to…I just had to.” Lynn sobbed.

“Then why did you? Answer me, Lynn, let me help you. The situation out here is escalating, and once I’m gone, the police will have no alternative but to storm their way inside and take you by force,”

“You already know why I hurt Roger. I can’t let the Ugly spread to anyone else. It needs to be cut away.”

“Are you suggesting your disease is infectious?” Dr. Lawrence remembered what Lynn told him during therapy about a cyst protruding up her back and spreading throughout her skin. He recalled Lynn swearing she felt the Ugly crawling throughout her body.

“I told you, doctor, only you wouldn’t listen to me, this isn’t imaginary. This is more than cancer, a blight, or a disease. It’s the Ugly, and it’s spreading. I can feel it.” Lynn blubbered.

“Lynn, you know that’s not true. If this skin disease was spreading, wouldn’t I be infected? I’ve been treating you for months, and I’m perfectly fine. Let me in, and we can discuss this. I promise I can help see you through this mess, but it starts with you opening the door.”

“I’m sorry, Doctor Lawrence. I saw it through the window when you approached. It’s too late for both of us.”

“Lynn!” Dr. Lawrence yelled, pounding on the door. In his earpiece, Dr. Lawrence heard the order for a tactical breach. The Special Operations Team flooded the corridor and knocked down Lynn’s door as Dr. Lawrence was ushered out of the way.

After the police breached the apartment, the team leader met with Dr. Lawrence. His uniform name tag read Reynolds.

“I haven’t seen Lynn come out yet, can I go in?” Dr. Lawrence asked.

“That is what I wanted to talk to you about, doc, Lynn’s dead.”

“What? My Lord in heaven. I shouldn’t have waited. I should have let your team go inside immediately.”

“I don’t think it would have mattered. Are you sure that person was Lynn on the other side of the door you spoke with?”

“Of course, I’m sure. I’ve been treating Lynn for months.”

“I was afraid you’d say that,” Reynolds said.

“What do you mean? Can I go in there and see her? “

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea, doc. The sole occupant of that room, there’s just no way... what I mean is, it’s likely Lynn’s been dead for hours.”

“This must be some mistake, you’re mistaken.” Dr. Lawrence said.

“Lynn used an electric saw to split open her skull and remove pieces of her brain. Then she pulled the skin from her face with a filleting knife. Chunks of her organs were removed by her own hand. Everything was put on display in jars in her living room on the mantle. There’s no way she survived all the blood loss while operating on herself.” Reynolds said.

“You heard Lynn on the other side of the door speaking to me through your earpiece.” She was alive a short while ago, I’m certain, I’m not crazy.”

“I didn’t say you were crazy, I thought I heard her too, but I’m open to the possibility it wasn’t Lynn we heard on the other end of the door.”

“Your men inside must be mistaken about her time of death. What makes you so certain about when she passed?”

“We found her tongue in one of the jars. It’s been there for hours. I’m sorry, Dr. Lawrence.”

Dr. Lawrence stood outside the apartment and placed his hands on his waist. Moving away from the apartment, Dr. Lawrence felt something push against his right side love handles. Dr. Lawrence lifted his shirt. A small white egg-like cyst was protruding beneath the skin. He could feel the Ugly crawling underneath his skin.

About the Author:
Christopher Michael Blake is the author of the horror novel Prey for Dawn, the mystery novella The Cape May Murders, and the Science Fiction Thriller Pyramid of the Parasite. He resides on the Jersey Shore with his family. His next novella Séance: A Witches of Summer’s End will be released in 2024.

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