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Hi Creature Hour!
Thank you for opening my letter (if you did!). My boyfriend and I have been pretty consistent listeners for a while now, we’re big radio people. I don’t think I ever expected to be sending in any stories for you, though!
Anyway, some background. I work as a makeup artist for various television productions filmed in the area—I originally started out as a street painter when I was younger, but realized that the human face was my true calling. I’m also a bit of a metalhead! My boyfriend, Mikko, was the vocalist for a pretty small project back in the day, and they happened to be performing at a venue nearby, so I decided to drop in for a show with some friends. I remember thinking that his corpse paint was a little runny—he probably didn’t realize the importance of setting powder. After the show, I asked him if he needed any makeup tips, and we’ve been together ever since! I still help out with his corpse paint these days. It’s our thing.
We live in a pretty weird area of town, with lots of car accidents. It just so happened that two months ago Mikko was in one of them. I don’t want to relive the details, but it was a rough one. He’s been healing much faster than expected, but it’s taken a lot of work to get where he is. I’m just happy he’s okay.
But, Creature Feature team, there’s been something a little off about him these days. And I’m worried.
It started the day I got the call—I was doing someone’s brows. I put everything down and rushed to the hospital ASAP. A nurse told me Mikko was fine as I sat there crying in the lobby—she said that it looked like he was going to recover perfectly, with few complications. When I could finally see him, I thought it was pretty weird that practically his entire body was wrapped in bandages. But the doctors told me he was healing from some burns, and would need to keep them on for as long as possible, at all costs. That sounded normal enough, so when we finally got to go home, the bandages stayed on, despite their musty antiseptic smell.
It took him ages to get used to his own body again, despite the apparently light injuries. A month afterwards, we were eating supper together—I cooked something soft, probably oatmeal, as it was still pretty hard for him to chew—when he dropped the spoon he was holding. His hand was shaking, and I might have been crazy, but I could almost see… rippling… under his bandaged fingers. I thought it was a trick of the light. He apologized, and told me the healing process was hard—in addition to the psychological stress, he reported not feeling “right” in his body. I assumed it was just the anxiety taking a toll, like an idiot. I helped him to bed soon after, and we fell asleep.
I woke up in the middle of the night alone to the sound of crying from the bathroom. Tip-toeing to the closed door, I could hear his heaving sobs on the other side. I asked if he was okay, and when he only got louder, I got pretty scared. We’ve always been the type of couple to share everything with each other, to comfort each other when life gets rough. So, sure that he needed my help, I burst through the door.
Before me lay trails of medical wrapping on the floor, wet with antiseptic and something else. And a writhing man, though little of what he was before remained. Under the stains, pieces of different colored flesh lay crisscrossed haphazardly, patches grayed with the color of death, or the red of stress and white of scarring, or the pale blue of frostbite, or the curling rot of carrion. Mikko’s left arm snaked into itself, fingers twitching, bending, and making sounds I’ve never heard the human body make before. There were parts that were sloughing off and pulling apart at the seams, struggling to hold the muscle and fat bulging underneath. Stitches stuck out like spider’s legs, joining ankle to foot. The only body parts left of his own were his eyes, clear under the sinking skin around them.
I didn’t say anything—what could I say that would make him feel better? I just wrapped him up in fresh bandages, and we went back to sleep.
Please help! I don’t know what they did to Mikko—I love him even if half of him is rotting, but it’s clear neither of us wanted or expected this. Thanks for reading!
From,
Dani, Concerned GF
Dear Dani, Concerned GF,
You know, Dani, I might have actually gotten this letter a little too late! Because it seems recently that you two actually got married. It was a courthouse wedding, but I was able to find one picture of the two of you—Mikko appears to be wrapped in bandages and and his face covered in greasepaint, except for the exposed ring finger, which appears to be healing remarkably well despite its macabre construction. You both look absolutely delighted. Congratulations, you two! All I can really tell you is keep on taking care of each other, both in sickness and in health. Mutual trust and understanding are the key to a long-lasting relationship, and while there were definitely some bumps and bruises along the way, metaphorically and physically, the fact that you’re remaining open and honest means the world!
Best,
Your Cereal Numbers Host
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