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Bob
On the ninth of June 2025 | 1 060 words
What am I?
Robert stared into the mirror and the gaunt green eyes that stared back at him. Strands of hair clung to his forehead and cheeks, his face was still sweaty from the night's activities. He clutched the sink as he leaned forwards and nearly pressed his face against the mirror.
"What am I?" He said to no one, and smiled.
He heard the woman stir in the other room. Not much soundproofing in these filthy little motels.
A roach crawled up from behind the sink. Robert looked down and watched it skitter forward, lose its footing and slide into the basin. There it lay on its back, wriggling its many disgusting little legs, its antennae spun from side to side as if calling for aid.
"What am I?"
Robert picked up the roach in his fingers and stood up straight. He brought the insect close to his face and looked into its compound eyes, the little creature writhed in his grasp, the soft pressure of his fingers probably a force of a thousand pounds from its perspective.
"You have a purpose my friend," Robert spoke softly, "you eat the crud that they leave in their wake, everywhere that they go. Did you know that you are far stronger than them? Atomic rain could cleanse this planet overnight, but you and your ilk would survive, and inherit the Earth."
The roach squirmed and spread its wings to no avail. Robert shushed the creature and placed it, gently, back down in the sink. It stood there motionless for a while, then slid up the basin wall and back into the dark crack behind the sink. Robert watched the insect disappear, then looked back into the mirror.
"What am I?" He questioned the man in the mirror, "what is my purpose?"
"Robert?" A gentle voice called from the other room.
Robert left the bathroom with its vomit green tiles and returned to the other room. The man lay in the bed still, his naked form under the covers. Seeing Robert he smiled at first, but then, he saw something that scared the smile away.
"Robert? What's wrong?"
"Who the fuck are you?"
"What? It's me, Davey."
Robert stepped closer to the bed and looked into Davey's wide open eyes.
"I thought it was a woman this time." He mused.
"A woman? What are you on about?"
"I'm starting to lose track of them."
Davey clambered up into a sitting position, scooping up as much of the silken blanket as he could to cover himself. For a feeling of safety probably, Robert thought.
"Lose track of what, Robbie?" Davey demanded.
Something stirred in the back of Robert's mind.
"That's right," he said with a smile, "I was Robbie once. Robbie, the statistical analyst. Robbie, the midnight partier. Robbie, living in the closet. But that isn't quite right."
Davey rolled his legs over the side of the bed and sat up on the edge, staring at Robert with a new intensity.
"Did you hit your head or something? What the fuck are you talking about?"
"I am Robbie, but Robbie isn't me, don't you get it?"
Davey stood up, but Robert pushed him back onto the bed. Davey yelped with surprise.
"I used to have a different name, Davey. Do you know what it was?"
Davey's eyes glistened as he shook his head and bit his pouting lip.
"Mmm, Davey, it was a good one. A good name, that I had for a long time. But that isn't me anymore, and Robbie isn't me, and all the others..."
Davey scooted back on the bed, making for the other side, hoping to find an escape there. Robert circled around the bed in no time and stood in front of Davey, blocking his path.
"Get the fuck away from me Robert!" Davey shouted and rolled to the other side of the bed again, nearly fumbling off it.
He hopped up to stand and stared at Robert, the blanket falling into a lump on the floor. Robert thought that Davey's body was attractive, at least in a certain way. Davey was tall and slender, with just the right amount of muscle. Or, maybe that was Robbie's idea of attractive?
"What do you want from me?"
"Robbie, the statistical analyst, wanted your love. He wanted your body. My God, the emotion was so strong and overwhelming, it kept me full for so long."
Davey slowly backed away, he probably thought that he was being sneaky, but Robert could tell that his trajectory was towards the bathroom.
"Now I'm empty again," Robert went on, taking a step forward, "don't you understand? I crave for sustenance! It isn't that I want to do this, it, it, it really isn't a matter of choice, you do get that, don't you Davey?"
Davey rolled on his heels and sprinted for the bathroom. Robert let out a sound that was somewhere between a squeal and a bark, and in the blink of an eye he was on Davey's trail. The man screamed and fled as fast as he could, but Robert's form loomed tall and powerful behind him. He leaped forward and crashed onto Davey's back, the two of them went tumbling onto the floor.
"I don't want to do this!" Robert howled, "I really don't have any other choice now!"
The lights went out when Davey's heel slammed into Robert's forehead, but not for long. When Robert's vision returned, Davey was only just pulling himself up by the bathroom sink. Robert growled and pulled himself up with one, swift motion. He grabbed Davey by the back of the neck, and slammed his face into the mirror. The glass cracked and pressed inside Davey's cheek.
"Please, please, please, no please," Davey cried, "let me go, Robbie. Please, don't do this."
Robbie pressed harder against the back of Davey's head and stared into the mirror. His eyes met Davey's, who gasped, sinking into the hollow darkness of Robbie's gaze.
"I'm going to stuff you in my death-bag."
"Please, Robbie!"
"That ain't my name!"
Robert pulled back Davey's head, pulling by his hair to twist it so that their eyes met. Davey's cheek bled, and tears flowed through the trails of blood.
"Then... what is it?" Davey whimpered and stared into the void behind Robbie's eyes, "what... are you?"
"Call me Big Buck."
Big Buck opened its maw and swallowed Davey whole.
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