Thursday, May 03, 2007


The Black Bottle by Luxi

With a ponderous sound, the heavy wooden door closed as his father’s back disappeared into the study. And then Andy heard a crisp metallic sound. He knew that his father locked the door. He looked at the timeworn door with a sigh. Andy sat at the table in the living room, held his head in his palms and fell into memories.

Andy moved into this house nine years ago with his father, after his mother died in a accident. He remembered that the timeworn door was brand-new at that time, but it already had the ponderous sound. The image of the door brought to mind his father and the black bottle of liquid. Andy was aware that his father went into the study every day with the black bottle. At eight o’clock punctually, his father would appear at the door with a black bottle in his hand. He went into the study with ghostly silence until the sound of the wood door broke it. His father usually spends half an hour inside the study and then he cane out quietly with the empty black bottle. He always went straight to the kitchen and prepared the supper for Andy. It was as if nothing happened.

At first, Andy was very curious about the black bottle. He searched the whole kitchen and even the house for the black bottle, but every time he ended his search with disappointment. Gradually, he became used to the strange action of his father and the black bottle as his head was so full of other things, of plans and schemes of a teenage boy that he sometimes forget about the black bottle.

However, Andy was quite free today. He twiddled his thumbs and thought about the bottle. There were a lot of questions floating in his head. Where did the bottle come from? What did the bottle contain? What was it used for? He decided to discover the secret of the mysterious black bottle. He went into the kitchen with an idea. He set a small fire with the dish cloth. As the fire grew, Andy went towards the wooden door and knocked door in an urgent manner. When his father ran out anxiously from the study with the black bottle in his hand, Andy heightened his voice and shouted, “Papa, hurry up… fire! Big fire! It is still growing…”

When Andy’s father saw the flames coming out of the kitchen, he put down the black bottle without thinking and ran into the kitchen. Andy grabbed the bottle immediately with a wicked smile. Andy ran into the study in a hurry and locked the door with a snap.

Suddenly, a hush fell over the study. Andy held the bottle tightly and tried to calm down. After a while, he turned the bottle around and searched for some clues. There was no label on the bottle. He sat at the desk and studied the bottle. It was about four inch high, but it seemed quite heavy. The black bottle was bright black as if it was polished daily. When Andy got close to it, he could see his reflection on the body of the bottle. He opened the little black lid and used one eye to look into the bottle. Because of the black bottle, he could not identify the colour of the liquid inside and it does not have any smell. He decided to try it.

He put the tip of the black bottle against his lip and let the thick liquid flow out slowly and silently. When the liquid touched his lip, he shivered a bit as the liquid was as cold as ice. He could feel the liquid flow into his throat and down the esophagus, reaching his stomach.

After a few minutes, he felt colder and colder as his body temperature decreased. He crouched in the corner of the study and put his arms around the legs in a frail fetus-like position. For a few seconds he could not feel anything and he thought he was dying. Minutes later, everything resumed. His temperature began to increase and he felt warmer. He felt a bit itchy as his hair on the arms began to grow. He felt much itchier as the time passed by. It was like worms creeping on his skin. He began to scratch himself hard, face, arms, and legs. There was blood flowing out from the skin and where the blood flowed, the skin began to swell and turned black. He was still scratching, but now he was not able to control himself. Blood dripped from his face, arms and along his legs to the floor. His joints swelled like horrible tumours. There were undulated waves under his skin as if the caterpillars were having a party under his skin, they were dancing and binging in his flesh.

His clothes were stretched as his limbs and torso expanded. He thumped his bulging chest frantically as his heart was in so much pain as if it was going to explode. He wanted to scream in agony but he felt his throat was filled with cotton. He opened his mouth to shout for help, no words were uttered. He shambled with great difficulty towards the mirror. When he finally reached it and saw himself in the mirror, his hands held his transmutative head agonizingly and screamed shrilly to the mirror. Suddenly, he saw nothing but blackness.

With a toneless sound, his body hit the floor and a hush fell over the study again.




frm past till now at-
9:38 am



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