Harrow Not The Opossum Gods
CW: This is a work of EH/Splatterpunk. If you don't know what that is, here's a little description from Hunter: https://youtu.be/HZMqLQ9Z938?si=tUNfcbI3-724TvY4&t=4638
Enjoy! Or don't. Either way, don't fuck with the Opossums.
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Grady Harris grunted, straining his muscles to heft the overfilled garbage bag of beer bottles and spoiled leftovers out the flimsy kitchen door off the ramshackle doublewide. Soon it would join the ever growing mountain of refuse that was piled on the giant deck that surrounded the shitty trailer. Grady wasn’t much for cleaning, but the city of garbage he had been accruing on the back end of his trailer was a labor of spite. Despite living off of the dwindling remains of his mother’s life insurance policy and a part time job swapping oil down at the Jiffy-Lube, the troubled young man thought he was too good for the place. When he had drunkenly thrown one of his Xbox controllers through the window in a fit of rage, he had gotten into it with the landlord. The old geezer that owned the place said Grady needed to fix it, but it was his damn house. After a tense screaming match, it was clear that Grady was going to lose his deposit when the lease ran out. Since he would be gone in a few weeks anyway, the young man had decided that the trash from the remainder of his stay could be the landlord's problem.
He could smell the fetid stench as soon as he dragged the bag around to the back of the house. The man didn’t know the meaning of a homecooked meal and the pungent aroma of spoiled take out assailed his nostrils. Each and every one of those garbage bags contained the greasy remnants of his fast food diet. Rotting burger meat attracted swarms of flies to the pile of refuse and the deck had become a maggoty breeding ground. Oil and grease from soggy pizza slices, deep fried chicken, and cheap tacos seeped from the bags and soaked into the greying wood, giving it its own sour scent. Shit was pretty disgusting, he was honestly surprised it hadn’t permeated its way into the house.
Grady was just about to heap the new addition onto the growing pile when one of the bags beside him shifted. A raspy hiss filled the air right beside the young man, causing him to jump back in surprise. His sudden motion was too much for the already distending garbage bag and the bottom of it ripped free. Beer bottles clattered over wood and a rain of paper plates and dirty paper towels coated the ground. Grady cursed, kicking away the garbage that landed on his feet, and searched for the source of the sound. His face grew red, first with embarrassment, then with rage when he laid eyes on the fat momma opossum that stared back up at him from its hiding spot between two trash bags. Its body giggled, causing the tiny babies sleeping on its back to shift as it hissed again. The long bared teeth offered up a threat it had no intention of backing up. Grady had disturbed its meal of rotten fajitas and now it was backed into a corner, trying its best to scare him off.
“Go on, go on, git. I said git, you stupid motherfucker.” Grady hissed back, prodding at it with the toe of his boot, but the critter didn’t budge.
Anger flared in the young man. He didn’t like being challenged, especially not by a fat, mottled garbage eater. The opossum bellowed another empty threat when Grady reached down and snatched one of the tiny babies desperately clinging to its back.
“Maybe this’ll get ya moving.” He sneered as he took a pitchers stance and reared back with the little creature balled in his fist.
“Go fetch!” He hollered before launching the poor animal with all his might off the side of the deck.
The tiny opossum helplessly careened through the air for a few feet before coming to an abrupt stop against the thick trunk of a nearby oak tree. Its bones, still fragile and developing, shattered with the impact, pin cushioning out of the poor beast with a squelch before it tumbled lifelessly to the ground. Grady let out a chuckle at the mother opossum still sitting frozen at his feet. If it had any inclination about where its baby had gone, it didn’t show it.
“You’re a shit mother, you know that? Get the fuck off my porch ya fat bitch!”
With that, Grady booted the creature with enough force to send it tumbling over the edge of the nearby steps. It rolled down the short staircase and plopped onto the ground, the remainder of its young flying off and scattering like a freshly broken rack of pool balls. One of the little joeys had landed on the top of the deck and Grady slowly stomped down on it with the heel of his boot. Its miniscule eyes bugged in the socket, popping under the pressure before the entirety of its torso collapsed in on itself with a wet splat. Satisfied that he was still the dominant species, Grady headed back inside, slamming the screen door behind him and settling down in front of his Xbox.
Grady threw on his headset and sparked the remainder of a joint back to life while he waited for the game to boot up. The skunky scent of the small town ditch weed filled the room as exhaled.
“About time, I was about to start without you.” His co-worker crackled through the cheap headset.
“What took you so long?”
“Had an opossum in my garbage,” Grady grunted, “but I showed it who’s boss. Stomped out its kid and kicked its stinky ass right off the side of the porch.”
“Coool man, that doesn’t make you sound like a psycho at all.” The voice at the other end of the mic replied.
“Don’t tell me you’re one of those bleeding heart PETA pussies.” Grady retorted with a sneer.
“Nah, just a normal ass, well-adjusted member of society.”
“Candy-ass is more like it.” Grady said, flicking away the burnt up joint and tightening his grip on the controller.
“Team Deathmatch” The gritty announcer's voice boomed while an abandoned snowy outpost loaded on the screen.
“Whatever dude, let’s just play the damn game.” His coworker said as the countdown hit zero.
His partner had cut out halfway through the session, somewhere around the third time Grady screamed “Your momma should have aborted you, ya little twat!” at a twelve year old whose gameplay wasn’t up to snuff. There was only so much one man could take. But Grady was unbothered, and kept playing for a couple more hours. He was perfectly happy shit-talking strangers all by his lonesome. Around midnight, he hit a losing streak and started to get flustered. The controller was about to sail through the air, when in a rare act of self restraint, he calmed himself down and turned off the game. It was his last one, he couldn’t afford to smash it. Proud of his sound decision making, the man rewarded himself by jerking off before hitting the hay.
Deep into the night, Grady tossed and turned in a bout of fitful slumber, dreaming arcane dreams of a time long passed. He was a kid again, standing alone in an empty field far away from any semblance of civilization. Tall prairie grass rolled over hills for what seemed like miles, all around him, outlined by the shadowy silhouettes of thick trees from a surrounding forest. Above him, the stars twinkled superimposed over one another creating a surreal glow. The swelling moon hung at the center of his dreamscape, showering the field with a pale white light, until a colossal figure began to rise from the distant horizon. It was moving towards Grady, easily displacing the trees with each footfall. As it grew closer, the gargantuan figure filled the night sky, its towering body eventually rising high enough to eclipse the moon.
Grady stood in fearful awe of the being, its ancient visage overwhelming his senses. It loomed over the boy and he could smell its wild musk on the wind. The gentle breeze blew through its dark grey fur, exposing patches of mottled skin and spreading its scent far and wide. Its elongated tail, thick as a redwood thumped lazily on the ground and Grady could feel the earth beneath his feet tremble. The monstrous creature’s eyes glowed, a pair of spiraling nebulae, their gaze untraceable, yet he knew the beast was staring at him – straight into his very being. He felt the grass at his feet suck inward as the beast took a heavy breath and spoke. Its voice boomed through the rolling fields. A wave of hot air struck Grady, filling his nostrils with the full body of the creature's musk. The gravelly voice was so loud that he had clenched his ears, trying to keep the words at bay.
Oh woeful child, why do you torment my kin so? Violence begets violence, the circle continues unbroken. Let these words weigh heavy on your soul. The malediction that assails you is one of your own making.
Its eyes glowed a brighter hue and the world broke apart around him. The ground cracked and trees uprooted, even the stars were sucked into the roiling vortex of the ancient marsupial's gaze until only it and Grady remained, floating in the void. One after the other, its eyes winked out, and Grady was alone.
The bed creaked under the sudden motion as Grady jolted awake. Sweat beaded at the back of the man's greasy neck and he could feel his heart thumping in his chest. Sitting up in the bed he felt the uncomfortable moisture of the sheets clinging to his body. They had been soaked through. It felt like he was sitting in a puddle. That had been one hell of a dream, had he…pissed himself?
“Good God, I need to lay off that fuckin dirt weed.” He said to himself while he ran his fingers through his unkempt hair.
He took a few deep breaths hoping to calm his racing heart. His beer belly jiggled with each inhale. That fucking nightmare had took it out of him, all he wanted to do was close his eyes again. The bed sheets could wait. Perks of being a bachelor. He grabbed a pillow and moved to the couch, hoping this round of shut eye would be a bit more refreshing.
The following morning, Grady sat at his counter lazily sipping at some coffee while his sausage links, straight from Jimmy Dean himself, spun in the microwave. The couch had done a number on his back, but at least he had gotten a few hours of sleep. That crazy dream still swam through his mind. He had never experienced anything like it. There in the dark of that field he had sworn he felt the hot breath of that creature when it bellowed at him. The ringing of the microwave broke him away from his thoughts and he turned his attention to the plate of sausage.
Grady scarfed down the food quickly, the man always ate like he was unsure if he would ever find his next meal, though the folds of fat clinging to his bulk made it clear that sustenance would never be an issue. As he sat gorging himself, a creeping sense of dread fell over his shoulders. He felt as if he was no longer alone in the room. Someone or something was watching him. Then he heard, no, he felt them. The words emanating in the back of his skull, spoken into his very being.
Imbibe in the essence of my progeny.
The fork fell from his hand and the half eaten sausage rolled across the counter.
“Oh, … oh God..” He gurgled before doubling over himself, retching and dry heaving.
The taste that had filled his mouth was ten times worse than any of the foul scents that emanated from the garbage wasting away on his back deck. It was as if someone had poured a concentrated mixture of soured grease straight down the back of his throat. Spittle and sausage chunks flew from his mouth with every violent cough. Grady greedily gulped down the coffee, trying to mask the flavor, but he just spewed it back up moments later as the gagging continued. The overpowering rot coating his tastebuds was so pungent he imagined maggots would soon sprout from his tongue. Another fit of retching and he felt something shift in his throat. He gasped in shock at the long lump he now felt clogging his esophagus. His breathing grew shallow and quick, and he began to choke. The man’s large shoulders heaved with exasperation. His tongue hung out of his mouth and his eyes bugged from the pressure of the violent coughing as he attempted to dislodge the foreign object. Plunging his fat fingers in as far as they could go, Grady felt them brush against something round at the back of his throat. He heaved again, and the object slid just enough to catch in his grasp. Coarse hairs tickled the lining of his esophagus as he pulled the fleshy rope from the depths like a fucked up magician. It landed on the counter with a wet thwomp and Grady stared in horrified confusion. Almost two feet in length, the long, stringy tail of an opossum now rested on the countertop.
Grady’s fat gut gurgled at the removal of the object. He didn’t even have time to contemplate what he was looking at before the building pressure in his bowels overtook him. The hallway bathroom was only a few feet away, but the pained waddle to his dirty porcelain throne felt like it lasted a lifetime. The intense maelstrom of pressure churning in his stomach felt like it was going to rip him apart at the seam. With each agonizing step he imagined himself a diver, surfacing too early and rupturing into a pulpy red mist. Grady had barely seated himself, when the dam broke loose. The sound of the expulsion thundered off the tile and reverberated through the tiny bathroom as Grady loosed a shit flecked gas cloud. The relief was immediate. A brief respite of calm washed over the man while his asshole finished its violent eruption.
While his bowel loosed, the air of the room grew hot and he smelled the musk of the titan from his dream mix with the sulfuric scent of his own shit. His head pounded while the voice spoke.
Writhe in the deluge of my prey.
Grady felt an odd tingling in his nether regions and a surreal sense of wrongness soaked into the man to the core. His asshole puckered at the sensation, before letting loose a living nightmare. He clenched his stomach and at the onset of another wet fart and then started screaming. Not shit, but a swarm of ticks poured from the wrinkled mouth of their flesh hive. They skittered from the tiny opening, crawling atop one another to rush out into the open air. Grady jumped from the seat and squirmed out of his dropped pants as they rushed around the cleft of his ass cheeks, scurrying up his torso and burrowing in the folds of his fat. He slapped wildly at himself, doubling over in pain when he smacked his own nut sack, feeling the little vermin crawling up the curly hairs of his scrotum. There had to be hundreds that had poured from his anus, but even worse there were just as many still inside.
“Oh fuck, oh Jesus, oh fuck.” Grady whimpered, full panic enveloping him.
He could feel them now, their tiny mandibles, latching on, chewing, cutting, tearing the delicate insides of his rectal cavity.
Get them out. Get them out. He had to get them out.
Grady frantically looked around the bathroom, ignoring the tiny demons skittering over his body now, solely focused on removing the vermin nesting within. His eyes landed on the old wooden plunger that sat behind the toilet.
The fat man cried out in agony when he began to ram the rough wooden tip of the handle through the tight gateway of his anus. A man’s hole was supposed to be exit only; Grady barely even washed back there. What kinda queer constantly touched his own asshole? Now in a desperate attempt to cleanse himself, he was brute forcing his way right into the virgin territory. Tears of pain and humiliation ran down Grady’s cheeks as he fucked himself silly, roughly scraping the walls of his anal cavity. A stream of dead ticks and blood started to seep around the handle, dripping to his floor and staining the tile with tiny droplets of crimson. He slammed the plunger into himself faster, the grotesque mixture of blood and bugs lubricating the rod and making it easier to traverse the wrinkles of his virgin asshole.
While he plunged away, a piece of the cheap wooden handle cracked and began to splinter. With each intrusion the crack grew wider until it finally broke away and the unknowing man speared it deep into the soft internal tissue of his rectal wall. Grady’s knees buckled and he collapsed to the floor, reeling in white hot agony. His gut churned at the sudden spike of pain and he let loose another wave of vomit, coating the bathroom floor. Chunks of grey coarse hair were mixed into the concoction of bile and partially digested junk food.
Trembling, he leaned on his elbows and hefted himself back on his feat. The handle slowly slid from his rectum as he stood upright. It tugged at his insides pulling the battered and abused walls with it. Once it had fully slipped free, the crimson blossom of a budding prolapse followed. With its angry bright reds bespeckled by the corpses of so many ticks, it looked like a black dahlia in bloom.
Grady hobbled his way towards the shower. His bulk quaked with each feeble step, causing the splintered shaft lodged within him to shift, sending new jolts of pain up through his innards. At the very least, the throbbing agony emanating from the raw walls of his ruined ass had overpowered and quelled the sickening, crawling sensation of the infestation. When he stripped his shirt off, the task felt like a herculean effort. Angry red patches dotted the landscape of his torso, flaring up from the ticks now suckling at his folds. They too had to be cleansed. He turned the water on as hot as he could stand and stepped inside. He would burn the fuckers away if that’s what it took.
Under the steaming water, Grady raked at himself with his fingernails. He just wanted this nightmare to be over. His hands felt heavier with every swipe. If he could just rid himself of these fucking bugs he could go get help. He needed to be at the damn hospital. How he was going to explain his condition to a doctor he didn’t know. Even through the immense physical pain, the man was still hurt with the sting of embarrassment by the thought.
His whole body had turned an angry shade of pink under the scalding water. Having scraped himself bloody, he was hunched overtrying to catch his breath when he was overcome by the overwhelming urge to urinate. His greasy cock stood at attention, having been awakened by the pummeling he put on his prostate. More mental trauma for him to unpack later. While his bladder emptied the growing warmth he was feeling in the shaft turned hot. Looking down at his pathetic manhood he began to wail. Urine sputtered from the tip of his penis, the flow being cut off as more ticks flowed from the head like living kidney stones. They splattered the walls of the shower, shot out by the bloodied stream of piss.
“What the fuck? What the fuck is wrong with me? Please make it stop!” He babbled through heavy sobs. As his cock continued its bug ejaculation he felt his body begin to stiffen, The deep tones of the unearthly voice filled his head once more.
Rest now in the rictus of my false death.
He could hear bones pop and a new pain erupted from his limbs. His arms and legs began to curl inward on themselves, locking into place in a living rigor mortis. Unable to maintain his balance, he fell to the bottom of the tub, hitting his head on the faucet during the collapse. His vision blurred and the frantic cries he had been emitting grew distorted as his jaw unhinged and distended, leaving his mouth in a gaping snarl. The ticks still shot from his pulsating cock, now spraying straight into the air like a nightmarish sprinkler. They fell back upon the man and skittered toward his face. Eager to explore the insides of the new opening presented to them. Grady could feel them dangling from his tonsils before a curtain fell over the edges of his vision and he faded into the black.
Grady awoke to find himself back in the desolate field from his dreams. His body felt strange. The excruciating pain had faded, now replaced with an eerie tingling numbness. Though the pain had subsided, the heavy exhaustion still hung over him. He lay face down in the grass, his blubbery stomach splayed out from under him and he had no desire to move. The sky darkened over him and he felt the ground tremble under the weight of the titan god that stood as keeper of this world.
Welcome back my woeful child. May you find peace amongst the fold.
The words reverberated and Grady felt something moving on his back. Craning his neck, he gasped when he saw the smashed remains of the opossum joey he had stomped on, nesting into the warmth of his excess fat. It made itself right at home and nodded off to sleep. He rolled to his side and sat up, the little child flowing with him staying comfortably mounted. Grady looked upon his body and gasped. He had undergone a transformation. Coarse patches of grey fur sprouted out of the plethora of tick bites that dotted his body. From the budding star of his prolapsed rectum, a thick fleshy tail now hung. He raised his arms to his face and found that though he could move them, they still sat gnarled and twisted, limiting his range of motion. The bottom corner of his jaw hung partially ajar and he could feel the point of a long canine snaggletooth digging at the flesh of his lip.
The grass of the field rustled and for the first time Grady noticed the plethora of maimed marsupials that lazed about in the vastness of the rolling hills. A large opossum with two squashed hind legs crawled over to him and pawed at the side of his knee. It pulled away a stray tick and promptly devoured it. Grady could still see the tire tracks pressed into the rear half of its body as it pulled itself along after finishing the snack. The baby opossum awoke from its nap and plopped to the ground beside him. It stared up at him with the empty eye sockets he had gifted it, then yawned and meandered to an opossum that had been partially eaten by a hawk. Crawling over the splayed organs that hung from the mother opossum’s opened belly, it found a teat and began to drink.
Grady began to cry.
He felt himself leave the ground, gently plucked from the earth by the deity that watched over this realm. The ancient creature placed Grady amongst the gnarled hairs on its own immense back. A swarm of the tiny marsupials rested there, all battered or broken in some way by the harsh fates of existence. Some stayed sleeping while others crawled over the man, curious to greet the new arrival. Grady felt himself instinctively grasp hold of the large hairs as the titan walked amongst its flock.
Fret not child, for the pain is over. You are home now. Here you are loved.