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I am a sex worker. This is the story of the Wormpocalypse.

I am a sex worker. Have been one for over ten years now.
And in those long years I've had sessions at a wide variety of places. In tiny rooms of dingy motels and in royal suites of luxury hotels, in wet backseats of cars that smell of cigarettes and stale body odour and on poolside lounge chairs in spacious mansions. Frankly, I've fucked in every place where two people can possibly get it on. In this city, that is.
But nothing, and I do mean nothing, beats the brothel, fondly known as the establishment. It might not have the comfort of a seven star hotel or the glittering view of Widow's point on Slouching Hill at the edge of the valley, but it more than makes up for it in terms of safety and familiarity. To be surrounded by men with guns who are paid to protect you, and by girls who know what it's like to be you really puts your heart at ease. Helps you prepare for the messed up shit your screwed up clients want you to do. And our Madame was the cherry on top. We were lucky to have someone like her who treated us well, maybe even respected us a little.
That's why it was such a great relief that the establishment opened back up three weeks after the abhorrent worm incident. Home visits were fine, but it was at the establishment that I performed my best. Even my clients could sense that. Some of them told me that the sessions felt a little off as I hadn't been fully into it. Broke their immersion, hurt the quality of the service. That really annoyed me, because I had only gotten as far as I had by giving my clients as authentic of an experience as they had imagined in their fantasies.
Really. It felt good to be back. Damp walls, cracked tiled floor, the sound of traffic rushing in through the windows, it all brought a smile to my face. With all the craziness of the past couple of weeks, it was a relief to be back to a relatively mundane routine.
However, I should have crossed my fingers before counting my blessings. Too much crazy shit had happened in the past couple of weeks and I had been a little too enthusiastic in forgetting all about it. Serial killers in disappearing houses, gangrenous dicks shooting out worm riddled sperm, an invincible monster hunting a friend (who was still missing), I had made a conscious decision to shove it all in a dark corner of my mind. Why? I don't know. Maybe I was trying to protect myself. Felt that my sanity would start to fray like an old cotton rag if I let myself think too deeply about shit that was far out of my control. Maybe it all just terrified me. Like I said, I don't know. I'm not really good with all that introspection stuff. It was a mistake, of course. You can sweep shit under the rug all you like, doesn't mean it won't stink up your house.
And it did. Stink up my house in a major way, that is. Started the very night we moved back into the establishment. That night which marked the beginning of -
The Wormpocalypse.
It happened just after my third appointment that night. The wet smell of bodily fluids had started to replace the chemical stench of fumigation. I was glad the latter was dissipating as every little whiff was reminding me of that fucked up sight I had witnessed along with Victoria. That poor girl. I hadn't even seen her since the night her demon stalker shot up the Lebanese restaurant across the street. Where was she? I hoped she was safe.
As my client pulled his pants back up I decided to go out to the balcony for a smoke. I threw on my black robe, took the pack of cigarettes and lighter out of the bedside drawer and padded across the room towards the balcony. I'm using the term 'balcony' very loosely here. It was a cramped little extension of the fire escape that connected all the rooms on that floor. But there was enough space to stand there at least. Enough to lean against the metal railing and feel the wind on your face. The view wasn't all that shabby either. A commercial area was splayed out behind the establishment, some liquor shops, some restaurants, a pharmacy, a boutique and a salon.
I shivered as I stepped out on the balcony, popped a cigarette in my mouth and lit it. As I took a long drag on it, I noticed someone else out there, next to the door of the room to the left of mine.
It was Elise. Another girl working at the establishment.
The last time I had seen her was when I had accompanied her to the Madame's office after a portion of the roof above her room had collapsed on top of her. She had seemed dazed then, like what had happened just didn't register to her. I thought she was in shock. How was she doing now?
"Hey." I greeted, exhaling thick plumes of smoke.
She was naked, standing next to the door on the tips of her toes, like a ballerina. Her arms were high above her head, touching the ceiling.
"You really should put on some clothes, you know." I said. "Don't wanna catch a cold."
And that would certainly affect her earnings. Not enough perverts out there who get off to the taste of snot, I'm afraid. She didn't respond, just twirled, ever so slightly away from me.
"Elise." I said. "You okay?"
No response. Her fingers caressed the ceiling, drew circular patterns in the dust. Was she high?
"Elise." I repeated, louder this time.
She froze, as if she'd suddenly turned into a statue. She's obviously heard me, but wasn't responding. A cold breeze brushed my spine, making me shiver. I opened my mouth to call out to her again, but stopped myself. Because she moved.
She bent her head, moved it downwards. Slowly, almost cautiously until her chin rested on her chest. I saw that her mouth was open, locked in an 'O' shape. I could see her right eye from this angle. It was wide open, eyelids sliding back, almost sinking into the socket.
And then she swung her neck. Sharply, until her eyes were locked onto mine. I gasped. There was a worm, moving in her left eyeball. Long, fat - so fat it looked like it would pop right out. Slithered around her pupil like a snake circling a rock. The unnerving sight turned my stomach in knots.
"Holy shit."
She leaned forward. Just the upper body. Her arms were still fixed on the ceiling as she stayed on her tiptoes. The fact that she was maintaining balance in such an odd position was simply unbelievable. Her left arm left the ceiling, dropped down to her side lifelessly.
A hollow metallic thunk rang out as Elise fell forward, her head smashing into the metal railing of the fire escape as she crashed to the floor.
"Fuck!" I exclaimed. "Elise."
I dropped down to my knees and reached towards her. To try and help her up. I recoiled in shock as her body jerked and shifted on to her side, almost in a spastic motion. Left hand shot up and grabbed at the railing, then her right leg swung up and over her head, before looping around her left arm. She thrust her head into the gap between her thigh and calf. Her right arm blindly tried to grasp for something. What the fuck was she doing?
It was almost as if she couldn't control her body.
Good god. Was it because of the worm? Was she losing control over her own muscles because of it? Was she - and I shuddered at the thought - going to suffer the safe fate as the man with the explosive penis? I could hear her breathing. It was sharp, shallow, raspy. Sounded like a dozen holes had been punched through her lungs.
"Elise. C'mon, let's get you out of this mess."
She answered by further tightening her limbs around herself. She was tying herself into knots. Literally. I moved once again to wrap my arms around her. It made her snarl. I jumped back. A horrific thought crossed my mind. I imagined her sinking her teeth into my arm, the worm leaving her body, travelling into mine and conquering my brain. It scared me so much I contemplated not helping her at all.
"…Easy. I'm not going to hurt you."
Then, with frighteningly herculean strength, she hoisted herself up until she was sitting on top of the rusted metal railing, which groaned and swayed under her weight. Her head was still locked inside her leg, slightly tilted as she stared off into the distance with eyes that just refused to blink.
"Elise." I said. "You need to move away from the railing. You are going to fall off."
Could she even hear me? Or understand what I was saying? Fuck. But was she even conscious?
Her body juddered as if a current ran through her. The railing creaked dangerously.
"Elise!" I yelled as she leaned to her left and fell. And immediately landed with a wet smack. We were only two floors up, but that fall wasn't good. It sounded horrible. I took a quick step towards the railing, bent my neck and looked down, biting back a scream at what I saw on the asphalt down there.
The way her body was bent. It was all wrong. Terribly so. Elbows smashed, kneecaps turned to goo, bones from spinal cord jutting out of her neck. And the worms. I had been wrong. There wasn't just one worm in her body. There were hundreds of them, and they poured out of the newly smashed holes in broken body, crawling over bones and flesh and writhing and slithering on the ground. The sight made bile rise up in my throat.
A crowd quickly gathered up around her. Surprised, scared at the grotesque corpse.
A corpse that suddenly came to life.
It was beyond the realms of possibility, but Elise moved. Her limbs flailed around, sprayed blood and gore on those who had surrounded her body as she then scuttled away in odd jerking motions like some crab like monster. The crowd erupted in a cacophony of screams and moved away from her.
Heart pounding in my chest, I ran back inside. Quickly fumbled for my phone in the drawer and dialled Lil Pimp's number after bringing my hands under control. After telling him what I had just seen I ran down to Madame's office to for the same.
We searched all night. We didn't find her. Didn't find her for 11 days, in fact. 11 days we waited in tense silence, doing our jobs half heartedly wondering if someone else would be infected by those disgusting worms again. I was suspected the most, considering the fact that I had the closest contact with Elise. Well, me and Victoria. But she was missing too. And that only made everyone even more suspicious of me. Even a visit from a doctor familiar with the sketchy part of the city didn't help.
Fuck, with how strange things were happening around me, I was starting to get suspicious of myself.
I spoke to Lil Pimp and told him that if he were to find where either Elise or Victoria were, to tell me about it as soon as he could. Which he did, and the ensuing conversation took the madness to a completely new level.
"Hello. Natasha. It's me."
"Hey." I replied, tensed, wondering what he was going to tell me.
"So I found Elise."
"Oh. That's great!"
"Yep. Tracked her down to an abandoned warehouse. She's... I don't think she's doing all that well."
"What do you mean?"
"Yeah. You'll see it for yourself when you get here. But that's not the important part. See, I found someone else here too. Someone who was waiting for me outside the warehouse."
I felt a lump in my throat. "Who? Victoria?"
He sounded tense. Afraid even. "No, but close. It's the guy in the trench coat. The one who shot up the restaurant that you and Victoria were at."
"What the fuck's he doing there?"
"I don't know. It feels all connected, doesn't it? But he wouldn't tell me."
"Wait." I said. "You actually talked to him?"
"Yeah, yeah. I know. Reckless, right? To be fair the bastard came up on me before I could try killing him once again. Said that he just wanted to talk. To you... About Victoria. And Elise."
The Beginning
M || T
submitted by Mandahrk to nosleep

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