"GEO" is a short story by horror writer Mike Lera published in Sirens Call Publications' anthology (under former pen name Michael Lizarraga) in "Twisted Yarns." www.SirensCallPublications.com. View a narrated storyboard in "Videos."Synopsis: "Unsteady Eddie," "Freak-O," Tic Tac" are just a few names given to young Edwin Morales by his peers, a boy with a moderate case of Tourette's Syndrome who often retreats into his junior high school basement during recess to avoid being bullied and harassed by schoolmates. It is here he finds refuge, solitary, peace.
Until one particular morning, Edwin discovers that he is NOT alone in his private little refuge, and for the first time, wishes he was back upstairs with the bullies...
Edwin stepped into Mr. Doty's private laboratory. Peered down, to the opposite right base of the desk, finding a pair of leather dress shoes on feet that lay on the floor, sticking out from behind the desk.
He rounded the table, and behind it lay Mr. Doty, his eighth grade science teacher, in a bloodied dress shirt and tie and blood stained khakis.
The skinny teacher's face was a mask of dry blood and lacerations and dirt from which his crazed eyes peeked out of, glaring eerily at the ceiling like dead jewels. His mouth was wide-opened, as if screaming without sound, two of his front teeth missing. His rolled up sleeves revealed thin arms riddled with gashes and contusions and remnants of dirt and sand. His hands were especially bloodied and battered, skin torn and shredded off the knuckles, revealing bone.
Edwin's eyes bulged in their sockets. His hair stood perfectly on end. His heart was a runaway rabbit in his chest. The world tilted crazily, teetered clockwise, then counter-clockwise, as if he just got off a cheap carnival spin-out ride and needed a bench.
Edwin's twisted face turned green, the corps' putrid stench wafting through his nostrils, almost palpable, and he felt like vomiting.
Suddenly, there were noises from a small room in the corner, heavy objects dropping to the floor. Edwin looked across the room to see...
a "rock" scurry to the doorway, stopping at the threshold... all by itself.
SIX MORE ROCKS rolled and skittered to the doorway, stopping beside the first rock, three on each side, all different shapes and sizes. Each spotted or drenched with BLOOD.
Moving all by themselves.
Readying, steadying for their next attack. For their next... target.
# # #
For further reading, you may purchase "Twisted Yarns" at the following link. And be sure to check out Lizarraga's article on his inspiration for Geo.