Excerpt from novel Let The Right One In

I recently finished reading Let The Right One In and am still digesting how great it is. It's scary, sad, cringe inducing, funny and downright twisted. All these characteristics melt together perfectly in this horror story.

For those of you who aren't aware of this novel, which was recently made into a rather successful film that played in art house theaters around the country, here's a short introduction (courtesy of Wiki):

Let the Right One In (Swedish: Låt den rätte komma in), also known as Let Me In, is a 2004 vampire fiction novel by Swedish writerJohn Ajvide Lindqvist. The story centers on the relationship between a 12-year-old boy, Oskar, and a centuries-old vampire child, Eli. It takes place in Blackeberg, a working class suburb of Stockholm, in the early 1980s. The book focuses on the darker side of humanity, dealing with issues such as bullying, drugs, theft, pedophilia, prostitution and murder as well as the obvious supernatural themes.

While reading the book, I came across one part that sent shivers down my spine and wanted to share it with you.

Enjoy :)

***Page 285***

He smiled to himself as he got out of the elevator. How many normal people would be prepared to take care of this kind of thing without batting an eye? Not many. He was pretty pleased with himself for... well, for doing his duty. Taking responsibility.

I'm not completely normal.

And he couldn't deny it: there was something in him that was actually hoping that... that the bleeding thing had continued, that he would have to call the ER, that there would be a hoopla. However much he wanted to go home and sleep. Because it would make a better story, that's why.

No, he was not completely normal. He had no problems with the corpses: organic machines with the brains turned off. But what could make him a little paranoid were all these corridors.

He punched in the code, automatically put his finger on the opener, which only answered with a helpless click. Pushed the door open manually and walked into the morgue, pulled on a pair of rubber gloves.

What was this?

That man he had left covered in a sheet now lay fully exposed. His penis was erect, pointing to one side. The sheet lay on the floor. Benke's smoke-damaged airways squeaked as he gasped for breath.

The man wasn't dead. No. He couldn't be dead... since he was moving.

Slowly, in an almost dream-like way, the man turned over on the gurney. His hands fumbled for something and Benke instinctively took a step back as one of them-- it didn't even look like a hand -- swept past his face. The man tried to get up, fell back onto the metal stretcher. The lone eye stared straight ahead without blinking.

What the hell do I do? Ten stories. He fell ten stories.

Again the man fell down onto the gurney with a moist boom. A few drops of fluid splattered onto Benke's face. He tried to wipe it away with the rubber glove but only managed to smear it.

Benke walked over and put his hands on the man's struggling body. The man's un-deformed hand shot out and grabbed Benke's wrist. Damn, he was strong.

"I'll take you to the emergency room, OK? Try to keep still."

He walked over to the head of the gurney and opened the morgue door, looked down at the man's head. Immediately wished he hadn't done so.

The mouth which not a mouth, was opening.

The half-healed wound tissue came apart with a sound like when you skin a fish.

"AAAAAA!"

The howl echoed through the empty corridors and Benke's heart was beating faster.

If he had a hammer in his hand in that moment there would have been a great likelihood that he would have smashed it right into that revolting, quivering mass with that staring eye, those strips of skin over the mouth hole that now snapped like overstretched rubber bands, and Benke could see the man's teeth glow white in all that reddish brown fluid that was his face.

The corridors stretched out endlessly before him, like in a nightmare. Yes. It was like a nightmare. All thoughts of a "good story" were gone. He wanted to come up to the surface where there were other people, living people who could rescue him from this monster who was screaming on the gurney.

The man's healthy hand was waving.

Benke looked at it and closed his eyes, opened them again. The man was trying to say something, softly. He was indicating for Benke to come closer. He was clearly conscious.

Benke stepped next to the gurney, bent down over the man. "Yes, what is it?"

The hand suddenly grabbed hold of his neck, pulled his head down. Benke lost his balance, fell down over the man, the grip on his neck ironhard as the hand pulled him down to that... hole.

"Let go of me, for..."

A finger pushed into his ear and he heard the bones in the ear canal crackle and give way as the finger forced itself in, further in. He kicked out with his legs and when his shin hit the metal bars under the gurney he finally screamed.

The teeth clamped down on his cheek and the finger in his ear reached a point where it turned something off, something turned off and... he gave up.

The last thing he saw was how the wet compress in front of his eyes changed color and grew pink as the man chewed on his face.

The last thing he head was a

pling

as the elevator arrived.

There ya go!

Good night my lovelies.

noeLLe.xx