The Corn Puff from Hell

The Corn Puff

“It’s another brilliant day outside! The sun is shining and the temperature is a balmy 23 degrees! Get out there and seize the –”

He arm shoots out and hits the alarm clock. Damn it, it’s too early to be up. He rolls over and stares at the neon numbers, blinking through bleary eyes. 7:45. Why did he want to get up this damned early on a Sunday for? Damned if he knew, but that was that. He was up – no changing anything about that. Yawning, he stretched under the covers before moving his legs onto the floor. Wincing at the sudden shock of the icy cold floorboards, he moves towards the kitchen – mentally ticking off his day checklist.

He opens the cupboard and stares at the contents. He knows he’s hungry, but he doesn’t know what to eat. Suddenly, he spies a strange box way in the back – behind the freeze-dried ice-cream. He’s curious about what it is and reaches for it. Fingers grasping blindly, he finds purchase on the cardboard box and pulls it out into the light. Shutting the cupboard behind him, he wanders to the dining table without looking at the box once. He sets it down on the smooth mahogany surface and stares at it.

He doesn’t know what all those symbols mean – but he knows one thing: he’s hungry. Hungry enough to eat a mystery foodstuff in the back of his pantry. He picks up the box and turns it around in his hands – searching for any sign of ingredients.

Nothing – just one word in English. Corn.

He thinks about it. It could mean any number of things – corn flakes, popcorn, corn chips. But food is food and he’s hungry enough to eat an elephant. With some degree of trepidation, his fingers open the box. He peers inside and is somewhat puzzled and disappointed by what he sees.

One corn puff.

He pulls it out and eyes it skeptically. It’s about the size of a 50 cent piece and has strange red flecks in it. To his eyes, it seems to be vibrating…but maybe he’s still asleep and dreaming it. After all – food doesn’t move after it’s been processed…right? He makes up his mind and lifts it to his lips. He pauses, wondering why he feels like he has a lead weight in his stomach. He’s sure the corn puff is completely safe – even though it has those odd red flakes in it.

It tastes…like a corn puff should. Nothing odd there – although there are brief flashes of something metallic…almost like rust or even blood. He swallows the last of it and looks for the box again. Strange, he can’t find it – even though he remembers putting it down on the table. He moves to stand up – but is stopped dead in his tracks by an unearthly pain coming from his stomach. Doubling over, he clutches at his stomach in a vain attempt to quench it. He feels a sensation of something…something popping or expanding. Maybe both. The pain stops – maybe it was something he ate last night. That kebab looked extremely dodgy…

He falls to the floor as a tsunami of pain washes over him. Everything seems to be bursting and expanding, popping and shrinking – everything all at once. He’s cold as ice one moment and sweating the next. His eyes bulge out from the nerve shredding pain he’s experiencing. There’s no reprieve this time – just wave after wave of unimaginable pain and agony. Through the pain, he feels something new…and disturbing.

Something is trying to push out through his bellybutton. He grinds his teeth and manages to lift up the hem of his shirt to expose the horror. His eyes bulge out more as he struggles to process what is happening to his insides. He sees the skin undulating and literally crawling…and around the navel…he can’t even put it into words. He thinks of a scene in a movie he saw once – where a creature burst out of a person through the stomach. That couldn’t be real – yet it is. He sees his navel open up and sees something push out of the opening – bringing a fresh pounding of pain. He takes in a deep breath and glances at the object – nearly fainting as he sees what it is.

A corn puff. Exactly identical to the one he just ate – but it can’t be real.

He screams in pain and begs for help – cursing his decision to live in the open countryside. He knows that his nearest neighbour is five kilometers away – and that if he goes missing, no one will think to look for him for a few days. The pain ebbs away, although his insides are still contorting – the movements and feelings hypnotic and comforting. He takes in another deep breath – relieved that his ordeal is finally over.

He yawns…and promptly faints dead away.

“Police are puzzled by the mysterious disappearance of Jake Hamilton after he failed to show up for work two days ago. A search of his apartment yielded nothing – except a strange cardboard box amidst a pile of clothes in the kitchen. Police are still trying to determine if there were any factors influencing his disappearance. If you have any information, contact the police immediately”

He shakes his head at the box. It was unthinkable – the amount of time he had spent trying to decipher the symbols on the box. All for nothing – the database searches turned up nothing – and the box was deemed to be a red herring. Useless – something to throw them off track. He knew he was alone at the station – and tomorrow being Saturday, no one was likely to come in anyway.

He was hungry.