Robert Kostanczuk is a former full-time entertainment/features reporter for the Post-Tribune daily newspaper of northwest Indiana.
He won first place for “Best Personality Profile” in a 1992 competition sponsored by the Society of Professional Journalists, Indianapolis chapter.
His fiction piece "Safe Haven For Nathan" was published in "Homicide Lullabies: A Collection of Adult Horror Stories" (2016: Severance Publications Ltd.).
Robert’s “Lizzie Borden Versus Belle Gunness” appeared in the Spring 2020 issue of Suspense Magazine, while Burial Day Books published his supernatural piece “Fatsy Noodles” in 2021.
His tale “Lost at the Corner Bar” was published in New York City-based Mystery Tribune magazine (October-November 2020 issue).
Robert’s flash fiction “Coming Along Swimmingly” appeared in “Beyond Words” international literary magazine (Issue 13; April 2021): Beyond Words Publishing House; Berlin, Germany.
Robert lives in Indiana.
Robert’s Facebook page:
VINCENT, SET LOOSE
by
Robert Kostanczuk
He felt like a savior.
Bryce basked in the glow of his rescue of the praying mantis from inside his garage.
On a summer day, he gingerly snared the creature from a window frame with a butterfly net. Then he transferred the triangular-headed bug to the branch of a bush outside the garage.
There had been a spider web dangerously close to where the mantis rested.
What if it stumbled into that trap?
A disaster was averted by Bryce ⎯ intrepid accountant. His wife, Belinda, was a marketing executive who likewise brimmed with youthful fervor for all things nature.
Over the course of several days, Bryce took the initiative to research the creepy-crawly he had rescued.
“Do you know a mantis can swivel its head 180 degrees? Their legs are spiked to better snare and pin prey,” he informed his spouse over breakfast.
“Interesting,” Belinda said, not looking up from her morning coffee or newspaper. “One thing is for sure: That is definitely an evil-looking creation.”
Bryce carried on: “They have two, giant compound eyes.”
Belinda shook her head in amusement at her husband’s boyish fascination: “Thanks for the update Mr. Science.”
Bryce was leafing through a reference book on insects, marveling at how a mantis is designed.
“Two of its limbs appear to be positioned for prayer, but this little creature is actually a sleek and ruthless killing machine; they will even eat their own,” he said to himself, but loud enough for Belinda to hear.
Having had her fill of unsettling bug talk, Belinda went to the bedroom to get ready for work.
“Yikes! It’s in the house!” she shrieked as Bryce responded.
There, on the curtains, was their mantis, named Vincent by Belinda to honor horror-movie icon Vincent Price.
“Wow,” Bryce said. “Vincent is bigger than I remember.”
The insect seemed about three inches long when saved. Now, it looked twice that.
Belinda followed Bryce to the garage to retrieve the butterfly net. But Vincent was gone when the couple returned.
Beester, their fat cat, was, however, feverishly meowing.
Vincent apparently agitated the pet. The feline had a fragile disposition when it came to new beings in his life.
That night, Bryce and Belinda looked for the bug under the bed, before sliding into it.
“Maybe that was another mantis on the curtains ⎯ not Vincent,” Belinda speculated during pillow talk. “That would explain why this one was so much bigger.”
Bryce wasn’t convinced: “I don’t know. We just never saw that kind of bug on our property until it showed up in the garage. It’s not like they’re abundant around here.”
The next morning, Bryce noticed a small, brownish clump at the edge of his wife’s pillow. Moving closer, he saw it was a mangled grasshopper.
Bryce awoke Belinda and gently guided her head away from the dead bug.
“Did Vincent leave that?” Belinda asked, her face contorted in a disgusted look.
“Maybe he was just trying to leave you a little present,” Bryce replied, offering what turned out to be a feeble attempt at humor.
Although he used levity to lighten a dark situation, Bryce was, in reality, chilled to the bone.
Belinda was even more rattled, truly shaken. She hurried to the kitchen for coffee ⎯ then froze in her tracks.
A massive mantis peered at her from outside a rear window above the sink. Its antennae twitched. The bulging eyes had a milky-green film.
“Jesus!” Belinda screamed.
The bug tilted its head ever so slightly while gazing at her. Belinda ran for Bryce.
“It’s growing! It’s huge!” she gasped.
Bryce grabbed a baseball bat from the bedroom closet. Belinda watched as her husband swung it like an ax, as if warming up.
“How did it get so huge?” she asked in dazed wonderment.
“I don’t know. Why is there Bigfoot? Why were there dinosaurs? Who knows?” he said, hurrying out of the bedroom.
“Why won’t it leave us alone?” she queried.
“It’s a predator, and maybe it found out about you calling it evil,” Bryce shot back with escalating agitation.
“Forget what I said about you calling it evil; I’m just flustered,” Bryce quickly added in a hurried gesture of conciliation.
Deep down inside, though, he wondered if the spindly-legged terror was, indeed, out for revenge.
There was no time for analysis, however.
He was rushing to take back control of his house.
By the time Belinda and Bryce got to the kitchen, the monster had left.
They raced outside to the backyard.
As a slight rain fell, Beester was being held in the freakish legs of a praying mantis the size of a coyote.
It was Vincent. Bryce was sure of it, he felt it in his gut; bug had become demonic invader.
The cat wriggled and cackled in pain. The attacker continued chewing.
Belinda looked for rocks to throw at the thing.
Bryce rushed toward Vincent, holding up the bat.
He didn’t have a chance to bash the monstrosity.
It released its grip on the battered, dying cat.
The sound of fluttering wings wafted through the air as Vincent headed for the rooftops. Beester’s carcass remained.
Belinda and Bryce ran to their pet.
Mind-numbing shock encased them.
They knelt beside Beester, not knowing what to do.
Muffled flapping could be heard overhead.
Belinda and Bryce shot their gaze upward. The mantis was heading back toward them.
Vincent had swooped down from the top of a neighbor’s house where it had been perched, and locked in on the couple. Belinda and Bryce ran toward their home, desperately trying to make it inside.
They did.
With the kitchen door cracked slightly open, Belinda and Bryce scanned the yard.
There was nothing, just the patter of rain.
Then, a skittering on their roof was heard.
The noise was akin to the rapid shuffling of legs.
Vincent was near.
An ominous thought shot through Bryce’s mind: This nightmare was intent on eating him and his wife; it would never relent.