In the diverse landscapes of America, from Minnesota's heartland to Chicago's bustling streets, Joseph A. Sackett's early years unfurled. But it was his two-decade-long journey in the military's special operations that profoundly shaped him. Within these years, he witnessed humanity's darker shades, glimpsing the fragility beneath society's facade, understanding how swiftly it could crumble to its knees.
Joseph's writing is an extension of this fascination, a canvas where he paints the vulnerability and resilience of mankind. He draws from his experiences, crafting narratives that reveal society's weaknesses and the indomitable spirit that arises in response.
You can read more from Joseph right HERE.
METAMORPHOSIS
by
Joseph Sackett
Ben bolted awake, drenched in sweat. His sheets were like a swamp. Scrambling for his phone on the nightstand, he launched the temperature control app, desperate for a blast of cool air.
72 degrees?! Bullsh*t. He thought to himself.
Ben stared at the phone, disbelief warring with a rising tide of worry. "Why am I sweating like a stuck pig?" he muttered, wiping his brow with a damp hand.
Yesterday, he went to get a new COVID-19 vaccine shot at his local Walgreens by his home. It was a small town and one of the first to receive the new vaccination. Ben kept seeing on the news that a new strain was going to hit them hard this year, and he was going to make damn sure he wasn’t going to catch it. Last year, he caught COVID-19 and was down for two weeks. Not this time, though. He was going to make damn sure he was prepared.
He swung his legs off the bed, wincing. Ben’s body felt like he'd wrestled a bear. His knees popped like firecrackers on the Fourth of July. A sharp jab in his side had him hissing in pain.
“Agh, damn, it sucks getting old.” He said to himself as he placed his hand on his side.
He walked over to the bathroom and flicked on the light switch. The bathroom light assaulted him with its harsh fluorescent glare. Stumbling to the sink, Ben squinted at his reflection. Bloodshot eyes glared back, framed by dark circles that could rival raccoons. He grimaced, turning his head for a better look. "Damn, Ben," he muttered, "rough night or what?”
His gaze wavered to the injection site. Holy shit. Ballooned red and angry, a web of veins pulsing beneath the stretched skin on his shoulder. The puncture itself was wide open—bigger than a dime and looked infected as hell. This wasn't normal.
This ain't right. Not even a little bit.
Thump. Thump. A knock on the front door. Who the hell is at his door this early?
Ignoring the throbbing in his arm, Ben reached for a discarded Dallas Cowboys jersey by the bed. Putting it on sent a fresh jolt of pain through his shoulder. He stumbled down the hallway, wincing at the ache in his legs. Through the distorted lens of the stained-glass window, he could see his friend’s silhouette.
Ben reached down and opened the door, cringing at the pain in his shoulder.
"Dude..." Jed’s voice trailed off. "Rough night? You look like a pile of dog shit, man."
"Hilarious, Jed. Actually, early night. Just woke up feeling like absolute crap." Ben swiped at his nose with a sleeve, smearing snot across his face, and stepped to the side to let Jed come in.
“So, what’s going on with you?” Jed asked, making his way to the couch in the living room.
“Beats me, man," Ben mumbled, collapsing into the recliner across from Jed. "Probably just a bad reaction to the shot. Went to Walgreens yesterday. They got the new vaccine, you know? Figured I'd be smart about it. Now I feel like I'm coming down with the plague." He winced, his hand instinctively reaching for his throbbing shoulder. A dampness met his fingers, spreading through the fabric.
"Dude, you're bleeding!" Jed exclaimed, pointing at the jersey.
Ben glanced down, a crimson stain blooming on the white fabric. "Holy..." he breathed, his knees groaning like rusty hinges as he stood.
Jed gaped at him, jaw slack with concern. "Maybe we should get you to-“
A strangled yell cut him off. Ben's sneeze erupted in a spray of crimson mist, drenching Jed in a shower of blood.
"Dude! What the hell?!" Jed sputtered, wiping blood from his eyes and mouth. The metallic tang filled his senses.
Ben, fueled by a primal fear of the unknown, ripped the Cowboys jersey from his body, tossing it aside like a contaminated rag. The exposed wound was a horrifying sight. Bigger than a quarter, it gaped open, oozing a sickly yellow fluid.
"Oh God," Ben rasped, his voice raw with terror. "Look at this!”
Jed stared, his face draining of color. He felt like he was witnessing a scene from a horror movie. Through the torn flesh, he could almost see bone. The skin around the wound was a grotesque black.
"Bandage, gauze, anything!" Jed yelled, his voice tight with panic. "We gotta get something on that!”
Ben slumped to its knees, a weak point towards the bathroom by the kitchen. Then, the world erupted in a putrid symphony. Ben’s violent expulsion splattered across the floor, the stench hitting Jed like a physical blow.
Gagging, Jed stumbled toward the bathroom, fueled by a desperate hope to help. "Don't worry, Ben! I'll get you cleaned up. Just hold on!" he yelled back, the words tasting like ash in his mouth.
He reached the bathroom, rummaging frantically through drawers. Relief flooded him as he found bandages and peroxide. He started to make his way back to Ben and froze. The supplies clattered to the floor; his gaze locked on an image ripped straight from a nightmare.
"Guh...gro..." a guttural sound escaped Ben's mangled form. His tongue, a grotesquely swollen mass, lolled from his mouth onto the vomit-soaked floor. One eye, milky white and bulging, leaked a crimson stream down a cheek already slick with gore. The arm with the injection site hung at an unnatural angle, a single strip of skin barely connecting it to the rest of the body.
“Burn it!” Yelled an unknown voice outside.
Jerking towards the window, Jed met a scene of utter dread. A soldier, bathed in an orange glow, aimed a flamethrower at the building. In that instant, the weight of the nightmare crashed down – Ben's mutation, the unknown threat, his own impending doom. The air shimmered with heat as flames engulfed him, the last tendrils of Jed's scream swallowed by the inferno.