A Science Fiction Short Story
Detective Davis grabbed another cup of coffee and returned to his desk. He had been on the night shift for a few weeks, but he was still having trouble adjusting to his new sleep schedule. As he sat down, he tried not to make the “old man groan” noise his wife always teased him about, but it came out anyway.
He had just turned sixty, so the department had moved him from the field to a desk job. No more running around chasing suspects, and no more wondering if he’d get shot at, or have to shoot someone else. His days were just paperwork now. That, and listening to stories that nobody else wanted to hear. If some nut came to the station to complain that goblins were stealing tin cans from his recycling, Davis had to listen to them until they calmed down and went home.
At first, it seemed like it was going to be a quiet night. He had just started a new crossword puzzle, but before he could come up with an eight-letter word for a hostile entry, he saw Rhonda coming his way. The receptionist led a wide-eyed man in a brown jacket over to his desk. “Mr. Richards here had an upsetting experience,” she said quietly, as if it were an embarrassing secret. “He asked to talk to someone about it, and I said you were the best listener on the force.” Rhonda walked off before Davis could argue, her heels clacking across the tile floor.
“Oh great,” he thought. “Probably another UFO nut coming to report a whole bunch of nothing.” There had been over a dozen in the past week. The last one had forced him to watch a twelve-minute video of a blurry dot that could have been an alien spacecraft or a stray birthday party balloon.
Keeping his thoughts to himself, he put aside his annoyance and his crossword book and forced his face into a simulacrum of friendliness. He gestured for Richards to take a seat. “What can I do for you, sir?”
“It’s my wife,” he said, shaking his head. “I mean, I thought it was my wife at first, but it wasn’t her. It was a… a thing. Something impersonating her. I don’t know if it’s demonic or aliens or something even worse.” He waited for a reaction, but Davis kept his expression neutral. “I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true.”
Davis took out a pen and his notebook. “I’m not here to judge. I’ve heard plenty of unusual stories before, believe me. Go ahead. What happened?”
Richards wrung his hands. “I came home from the bar around midnight. …I’m not an alcoholic or anything. I’m an accountant. I do their books. The owners are disorganized, and I’m always working late to fix things. I was stone sober when… when it happened.
“As soon as I pulled in my driveway, I knew something was wrong. My wife always stays up to welcome me home, but the house was dark. Even if she goes to bed early, she leaves the front hall light on for me, but there was nothing.
“When I went inside, the light switch didn’t work. The power must have been out. I don’t know why. We hadn’t had a storm. I fumbled around in the dark, feeling my way to the kitchen, and found the flashlight. When I turned it on, I saw a shape in the next room. At first, I thought it was my wife Sheila. It had the same outline, the same red hair. But when she came closer…” He shuddered at the memory.
“It’s alright,” Davis said. “You’re safe here. Please, continue.”
“When it trudged across the room, I knew it was something else. An imitation. Its movements were wrong, like it had hinges in its limbs. Its eyes had a ring of color in the middle, as gray as the sky. When it reached out, its hands were split, like ten fleshy worms grabbing at me. But when it opened its mouth… that’s when I was truly horrified. It had a pink tentacle inside!”
Davis nodded, as if monster wives were a common problem. “What did you do?”
He tossed up his hands. “I just ran. What else could I do? It’s not like I could fight a monster with my wife’s face. I… I knocked it down when I ran for the door. I think it hit the corner of the granite countertop. Something leaked out of its head, like it was full of red goo. I’ve never seen such a thing!”
Davis stopped pretending to take notes. “Calm yourself. There are no monsters here.”
“You’ve got to get it out of my house! Find my real wife! Find out where it took Sheila!” He looked close to tears.
Davis reached out and gave him a pat on the shoulder. “Sure, buddy. No problem. Don’t worry. We’ll look into it right away. Just go to a hotel for the night.”
Richards stood, glancing around the room like he thought the imitation wife could run in at any moment. “Make sure you check the surrounding houses. Other people could have been replaced. Find out how far it’s spread.”
“Of course. I’ll put our best men on it. Just go sleep it off. You’ll be fine.” He waved Rhonda over and gestured for her to show him to the door.
Once he was gone, Sergeant Williams came over to Davis’s desk. “What was that all about? He looked terrified.”
“Oh, he’s just a nut job. The guy thinks his wife was secretly replaced by a monster. He made her sound like something from a horror cube. What’s the one about the alien?”
“The Hue Man?”
“Yeah, something like that. Can you believe it? Wasting my time with nonsense just because he wants attention.” He grabbed his coffee cup with his fingerless, flipper-like hands and took a drink. It had already gone cold.
Williams rubbed his bone white eyes. “Must be a full earth tonight. That always brings out the crazies.”
