MonstrousMay 3. Hypnotised

A shaking finger set the metronome in motion. It lazily slung itself from side to side. "I think this will go better," Dr. Wilkes said to his patient, "if I have a name to call you by." He swallowed hard, opening his notebook and laying it out on his lap.

The chair opposite him was occupied by an enormous glob of pink goo. It slid down onto the floor in streams and strings that crawled their way back up onto the fabric. The mass gurgled and squelched. If it was a name, Dr. Wilkes couldn't pronounce it. 

"Well," Dr. Wilkes said, sliding his sweaty palms across the arms of his chair, "let's begin." The mound shivered. Dr. Wilkes crossed his legs, wincing slightly as the wound around his ankle burned. It was raw, pulsing with his quickened heartbeat. The idea of the thing touching him again made his skin crawl.

"I'd like you to take some deep breaths." Normally, he would instruct his patient to breathe in through their nose and out through their mouths. That didn't seem applicable here. He demonstrated, if nothing more than to steel his own nerves. It provided the opposite effect, as he could now smell the thing. Sweet rot, like spoiled food left out to sit in the sun.

To his disgust the blob complied, mimicking his breaths. It drew in air, puffing up slightly larger, then let it out in a great gust. This covered him in a gout of the thing's stench. He stifled a cough and a tiny retch. He reached over to the end table at his side, hoping to light his pipe and overpower its smell.

A strand of the pink mess shot out, knocking the table over and sending the lamp down onto the floor. Dr. Wilkes tried hard to keep his composure. He cursed himself for choosing today of all days to work late. He could have been home now, sleeping soundly. "Focus on the sound of my voice," he said, trying to shake the tremor in his throat. "You are starting to feel relaxed. Let any cares or worries pass over and away from you." The beast seemed to melt even more, the eddies swirling inside it slowing. "You are drifting into a deep sleep. You will stay there until I snap my fingers." 

The metronome ticked, bouncing off the quiet that now filled the room. The moment stretched into a pregnant pause. The ooze wasn't collecting itself anymore. It was forming a puddle on the floor. Dr. Wilkes slowly moved to pick up the lamp. The goo didn't budge. Dr. Wilkes licked his lips, watching the door. He could attempt to keep it entranced until sunrise, waiting for someone else to show up. But what could they do? No, he must make a break for it. Get some help.

Dr. Wilkes pulled off both of his shoes, having to bite his lower lip to keep from shouting from the pain from his ankle. He stood cautiously, watching his "patient" intently. Tiptoeing in his sock feet, Dr. Wilkes stepped over the pink pool and along the boards of the floor. A single creak could spell his doom.

His heart pounded and sweat rolled down his back. He was almost there. Just another few steps and then he could bolt. It was fast, but maybe he could get to his car in time. 

The metronome stopped with a sharp clack. Dr. Wilkes sprinted for the door. He had a grip on the handle when a searing pain engulfed his hand. The slime clung to him as he screamed, turning the knob. The blob slopped down onto the floor, traveling to gather beneath Dr. Wilkes. It immediately ate through the fabric of his socks and soon his feet burned so badly he fell back onto the floor. His hand and feet were bright red, the skin burnt and blistered. He crawled backward along the floor as the goop swirled upon itself, stretching itself taller. 

It now vaguely resembled a person. One made of melted wax and raw hamburger. A hole appeared on its chest that opened and closed rhythmically, making a ticking noise. Another hole appeared on its "head". Dr. Wilkes felt nauseous as the slime formed teeth within this new hole. A tongue peeled away and extruded itself into the mouth. 

"Well," the creature said with Dr. Wilkes' voice, "let's begin."