"The Hand"

“The Hand”

By Cody Williams

 

Ernest McConnell sat down in his recliner and glared at the television screen as he watched Mr. Vince McMahon powerwalk down to the ring on the latest episode of Monday Night Raw. That was his weekly soap opera that he watched almost religiously. He knew that it wasn’t cool to watch WWE knowing damn well that it was fake. But still, it had almost become a habit as he had watched it every year since he was five years old. He used to watch it with his father as he sat on the floor and his father sad in his recliner balancing cans of beer on his tits as he watched Andre the Giant battle Hulk Hogan. Now, it was a different generation of stars and Ernest was the one sitting in the recliner balancing the cans of beer on his tits. He looked down at the brown Taco Bell bag that sat on the floor of his singlewide trailer and scoffed.

            “I’m gonna regret that later! I can almost guarantee that!” Ernest said with a blended tone that was both serious and humorous. Taco Bell tended to upset his stomach and he would always have to run to the bathroom about thirty minutes after eating it. But still, it was cheap and good which is why Ernest continued to get it. He couldn’t afford much more than that as a janitor at the local high school and his only other option was McDonald’s which, like most people, he tended to get tired of after a while. The Taco Bell provided something different for his mouth.

            You need to find you a good woman to cook for you, Ernest! Besides, Papa and I would love some grandkids to spoil. But before we can get the grandkids, you have to find you a good woman to feed you and the grandkids! Ernest’s mother always nagged. Ernest being well into his sixties now, she never got her wish. It was the ling cancer that finally did her in. Ernest remembered going into the hospital on those last few days. Her once bushy white hair was gone leaving behind a shriveled up old bald b***h with many bedsores running up and down her legs. It was almost to the point that she was unrecognizable to him. He remembered thinking more and more often that she looked like something that would be from that old 1980s horror anthology show Monsters. The guilt of thinking this almost drove Ernest mad and his drinking increased because of it.

            You ought to quit drinking, Ernest! That’s what did your daddy in! You don’t want to be like him now, do you? His mother asked him at one of the last visits. No, he didn’t want to be like his father. But unfortunately, he couldn’t stop drinking. Besides, death by alcohol didn’t seem to bother him all that much. In fact, he was almost to the point to where he welcomed it.

            It’s not that Ernest didn’t want a wife and kids. Honestly, he didn’t care that much either way. He could have no kids at all of fifteen kids and would be just fine with either one of those. And it’s not that he didn’t try to find a wife, but Ernest had never been that good with picking up women. Hell, it’s been nearly thirty years since he went on his last date. Her name was Janie and the two of them went to high school together. They went to that Tex-Mex place in the center of town before she said the heartbreaking words no man wants to hear at the end of a date: Perhaps we should just stay friends. Ernest knew what that meant. It’s been said to him on far too many occasions. It was polite way of saying You will NEVER see me naked! Ernest just nodded, put on a fake smile, and left the Tex-Mex place. They never saw one another again but that didn’t matter to Ernest. He didn’t want to be just her friend. For him, it was love me or hate me. Those were the only two options.

            Ernest has undergone a few changes since that night. His head that was once filled with beautifully woven black hair now was bald on the top with the exaction of a few strands of hairs that remained to flow in the wind. The sides of his head still hair gray hair but he considered on several occasions to shave it off completely but always in the end decided to hold onto the few hairs that he had left as a reminder of what he once had. Ernest had also put on a few pounds since his younger days. He told himself that it was the beer gut that caused this but he knew that he had started eating more. He couldn’t help it. The beer and the cheap greasy food provided comfort for him that he couldn’t get anywhere else. Ernest reached over and placed his hand over his stomach. He could feel the rumbling within him and the feeling of nausea arose from the complications going on within him.

            “S**t!” He said as he quickly stood to his feet. Ernest stood there for a moment and clinched his a*s cheeks together waiting for the soupy feeling at the end of his rectum to retreat back inside him. He wasn’t positive of much, but did know that it would be runny. Once the feeling subsided, he quickly and briskly walked towards the restroom behind his recliner with his hand over the buttocks portion of the overhauls thinking that it would keep anything from coming out. The door slammed shut behind him as he forcefully pushed back the top toilet seat causing it to cling against the tank behind it. He undid his overhauls and allowed them to fall to the floor around his ankles as he sat down on the cold white toilet seat and emptied the soup-like brown liquid from his bowels. Ernest let out a soft sigh as more of the oozy s**t poured from his anus into the bowl partly because it felt good to get rid of the excess waste but also because it burned as if it were bile pouring from his a*s. Perspiration covered the forehead of the middle-aged man and once he was done he sat there just for a moment. Ernest let out a deep sigh before he finally reached behind him and pulled down the flush handle behind him, as he did not want to see what was in the bowl under him.

            Ernest reached for a roll of toilet paper that rested on the floor beside him when he felt something. It ticked to a degree but also alarmed him. He could feel something soft and warm gently stroke the skin that surrounded his anus.

            “What the f**k?” Ernest said. He set there for a moment more until whatever was in the bowl decided to enter him. “Ouch! F*****g son of a b***h!” Ernest shouted as he quickly leaped to his feet and reached for his bum. When he turned around what he saw in the bowl shocked him. Coming from the drain in the toilet there was an arm and at the end of the arm was a hand with a brown liquid on its index finger. “What the f**k?” Ernest said again as he slowly reached over trying to avoid the hand at all cost and flushed the commode again. The water in the bowel drained the arm coming from it grew longer. “S**t!” Ernest said resting his back at the wall. He watched the hand for a moment as it hung from the side of the toilet and mocked him. F**k! F**k! F**k! What the f**k is going on here!? Ernest thought to himself. He backed up against the door and reached down and pulled up his overhauls over his unclean a*s. He opened the door and stepped out of the hallway and thought for a moment. Ernest looked behind him at the kitchen. Drain cleaner! I got some drain cleaner from when the drain in the kitchen got all clogged up! He thought as he quickly walked into the kitchen. But he knew that this was not typical clogged drain. There was a f*****g hand in his toilet. But still, he had to try.

            Ernest bent over and opened the cabinet and looked around for a moment. He pulled out a large white gallon sixed bottle with a large skull and two bones forming an ‘X’ on the front of it. Jackpot! He thought as he carried it into the kitchen, removed the white childproof cap from the top and started to pour it on the hand inside the toilet bowl. The hand started to fidget and retreat into the drain as its flesh started to turn black. Ernest emptied the bottle and looked down into the toilet. The hand was gone. Ernest smiled satisfied, sat down on the toilet, and let out a soft laugh.

            “Yeah! I got you, you little f****r! Nobody messes with Ernest you f*****g b***h!” Ernest said laughing. He laughed some more until a strange rattling sound came from the pipes around it. Ernest looked into the toilet bowl as he heard finger taps on the metal pipes. “No! It Can’t Be!” He muttered as he hand shot through the toilet and grabbed him on the face. Ernest fell backwards as he stared at the burnt flesh on the arm that owned the hand that had a hold of his face. The skin of the arm hung there loosely and looked as if it were about to peel off. Please god! No! Jesus f*****g Christ! Ernest thought to himself as the hand pulled him into the toilet and through the main pipe.

Copyright © 2015 by Cody Williams
Courtesy of TRUE TERROR PUBLICATIONS
A division of TTP Entertainment

Author's Note

This is a story I've been wanting to write for a while. It's pretty gross, but I found it hilarious in some places and terrifying in others. I hope you like it! Happy New Years!

-CW

Reviews

[Riding the Rainbow]

Oh man... now I'm terrified to go to the bathroom!