Mask of Flies Read Online Free PDF

Her nails dug into his
shoulder blades, and every muscle in her body tightened. When she
cried his name, Rick could no longer deny release. The precognition
of the ultra-intense bordered frightening. His body shuddered,
staggered; his mind pummeled with dopamine into a plane of
nonexistence.

Chapter 3
    The screen door
slammed shut behind Rick and hit his heel, pushing him forward into
the black, frozen morning. He almost dropped his bag lunch into the
grey slush snow that covered the driveway. Cold air burned his lungs
and hardened the snot in his nose, occurrences indicative of sub-zero
temperatures. On his coat sleeve, he spotted a long black hair. He
pulled it off and couldn’t help but to smile.
    Rick had almost
forgotten that Haynes ordered him to report in at 4:00am sharp, to
perform the Summer Hall rounds early. Haynes scheduled Rick to attend
the auditor for the remainder of the afternoon. The order slipped
Rick’s mind until he was ready to close his eyes for the night.
    The upturned collar of
Rick’s pea coat did little to protect his face from the wind
propelled snow—it seemed to adjust its trajectory to attack his
exposed areas. He reached into his pocket with his free hand. Left
my damn cap at work again. Off to a great start.
    Rick didn’t get to
sleep until after midnight: his hands were full with Allie, or
perhaps it was the other way around. Apparently, both had stress to
relieve. The interchange started as normal, lethargic, Monday night
sex, but the session turned into a contentious romp that lasted into
the depths of the night.
    The fifteen year old
Camry bellowed out a cloud of exhaust into the frigid atmosphere;
Rick had run outside to start the engine before his morning
rituals—the worst part of waking up. He shook his head, eyeballing
the deep rust around the Camry’s wheel well. The Buffalo winters
had brutalized the car. Over the years, the heavily salted roads ate
through the thin metallic body. He wiped caked ice off the windshield
quickly with his bare hand, and hopped into the car.
    Normally, the old piece
had to be warmed up 30 minutes in subzero temperatures, for the
heater to provide adequate relief from the cold, but this morning
Rick was running short on time. Cold air rushed out the vents and
sent a wicked shiver up his spine. He had persevered through the
Buffalo winters for all of his 37 years of life, but this morning it
was getting the better of him. A homogenous rock tune played on the
radio. He slammed the power button off and embarked on the short
drive to the Oak Leaf Retirement Community.
    Who the hell listens to this
bloodless crap?
    In the dark morning,
the Oak Leaf Retirement Complex was an imposing structure: the
building’s jutting bay windows and steep angled eaves, combined
with the ruddy light cast from the inside-out, reminded Rick of a
Jack ‘O’ Lantern with a perverse grin.
    A hulking Queen Anne
built in the 1890’s, the complex initially functioned as an
all-girl, Catholic boarding school. New York State bought the
building from the school in the late 50’s when enrolment dropped.
The state utilized the building for various functions: from village
administration services to serving as a center housing the
developmentally disabled. In 1982, a motion by the state to ramp up
retirement facilities in the area passed. The future projection of
the demand for elderly housing far outmoded The Village of
Williamsville’s available resources, so the state converted the
faceless building into Oak Leaf Retirement Community—a benign name
for a place to die.
    The antiquarian appeal
of the building resonated with the village’s aging population. Oak
Leaf became one of the premier homes in the area. Four cylindrical
towers, topped with shingled turrets embellished the ornate, all-wood
structure. State funding to revamp the facility allowed for the
construction of a Corinthian columned porch that ran around the
entire east side of the original facility, now a favorite