seemed
to happen at once. The creature's head exploded in a burst of bone
and brain matter and time seemed to slow down. Michael watched in
awe and horror as the blood appeared to float in the air until it
finally began to feel gravity pulling it to the street. The other
creatures and the woman were barely moving. Michael knew he must be
going mad but stayed focused on the task at hand. By whatever
miracle the lead creature was dead but there were still four more
and only one of him. He spotted a tire rod lying amidst the litter
covering the street and ran for it.
Snatching it up, he returned to the
creatures. None had moved more than a few inches at best. Driven by
an instinct to stay alive and a growing frustration at not
understanding what was going on, he tore into them, pounding each
in turn until the things were barely nothing more than standing
piles of bloody pulp. When he stopped moving all five collapsed to
the ground. The woman didn't look relieved though. She stared at
him as if he were a demon who had appeared out of thin air and
screamed again.
"It's okay I am not going to hurt you," he
said as he tried to calm her down.
"What the hell are you?" she gasped.
"My name is Michael," he whispered moving
closer to her. She stood there sobbing as she continued to stare at
him. He took her in his arms both to comfort her and himself. It'd
been so long since he'd seen another living person. He didn't feel
her knife slide up through his ribs until it was too late. He
looked down at the growing red stain on the front of his
t-shirt.
He heard her scream something like "die you
freaking monster!" in slow motion for what felt like an eternity as
she twisted the knife blade deeper and deeper until he fell and the
darkness embraced him.
Inhuman
Something thumped in the darkness of the
warehouse. Thorne awoke with a start his hand grabbing up the .38
that lay near his sleeping bag. Instinctively he closed his eyes
once more and reached out with his mind scanning the building for
the thoughts of others. A cold shudder ran through him and he
grimaced with disgust as he felt the Holes. Thorne had labeled the
Dead "holes" after the first time he'd scanned one of them. Their
minds were just active enough for him to feel but barren of thought
and terrible to touch as the emptiness in them seemed to go on
forever. There were three of them close by and moving in his
direction from where the warehouse's main doors led out onto the
docks.
Thorne breathed a sigh of relief. He could
deal with three of them if it came to that but the warehouse was a
huge place with more than one-way out. With luck, he'd be able to
dodge them altogether. He got up and quietly gathered as much of
his gear as he could with the hope of slipping away long before the
dead stumbled onto him.
A burst of wind blew by him so powerful it
nearly threw him from his feet. Thorne stood in the shadows
wondering what had just happened. Wind didn't blow indoors. He
reached out again to discover the mind of someone else very much
alive. It was full of rage at the holes yet there was an underlying
sense of pleasure in its thoughts.
Somehow, the mind had just appeared near the
holes. Wait. . . Now there were only two holes . . . No, all the
holes had vanished. Thorne felt a gust of wind on his face and in
front of him stood a young man dressed in street clothes holding a
machete that dripped blood onto the wooden floor. The man smiled
offering him a hand. "Hi, I'm Nate. Couldn't help but notice you on
my way in. I thought maybe you could use some help."
Thorne looked Nate in the eye and spoke a
single word, "Sleep."
Nate collapsed tumbling over as if struck by
an invisible blow to the head. Yanking some rope out of his
backpack, Thorne knelt by Nate and hurriedly tied the man's hands
and feet. It was a dangerous chance to take. More of the dead would
surely be coming if the ones Nate had slaughtered could find this
place yet Thorne didn't see any other option. If he
to happen at once. The creature's head exploded in a burst of bone
and brain matter and time seemed to slow down. Michael watched in
awe and horror as the blood appeared to float in the air until it
finally began to feel gravity pulling it to the street. The other
creatures and the woman were barely moving. Michael knew he must be
going mad but stayed focused on the task at hand. By whatever
miracle the lead creature was dead but there were still four more
and only one of him. He spotted a tire rod lying amidst the litter
covering the street and ran for it.
Snatching it up, he returned to the
creatures. None had moved more than a few inches at best. Driven by
an instinct to stay alive and a growing frustration at not
understanding what was going on, he tore into them, pounding each
in turn until the things were barely nothing more than standing
piles of bloody pulp. When he stopped moving all five collapsed to
the ground. The woman didn't look relieved though. She stared at
him as if he were a demon who had appeared out of thin air and
screamed again.
"It's okay I am not going to hurt you," he
said as he tried to calm her down.
"What the hell are you?" she gasped.
"My name is Michael," he whispered moving
closer to her. She stood there sobbing as she continued to stare at
him. He took her in his arms both to comfort her and himself. It'd
been so long since he'd seen another living person. He didn't feel
her knife slide up through his ribs until it was too late. He
looked down at the growing red stain on the front of his
t-shirt.
He heard her scream something like "die you
freaking monster!" in slow motion for what felt like an eternity as
she twisted the knife blade deeper and deeper until he fell and the
darkness embraced him.
Inhuman
Something thumped in the darkness of the
warehouse. Thorne awoke with a start his hand grabbing up the .38
that lay near his sleeping bag. Instinctively he closed his eyes
once more and reached out with his mind scanning the building for
the thoughts of others. A cold shudder ran through him and he
grimaced with disgust as he felt the Holes. Thorne had labeled the
Dead "holes" after the first time he'd scanned one of them. Their
minds were just active enough for him to feel but barren of thought
and terrible to touch as the emptiness in them seemed to go on
forever. There were three of them close by and moving in his
direction from where the warehouse's main doors led out onto the
docks.
Thorne breathed a sigh of relief. He could
deal with three of them if it came to that but the warehouse was a
huge place with more than one-way out. With luck, he'd be able to
dodge them altogether. He got up and quietly gathered as much of
his gear as he could with the hope of slipping away long before the
dead stumbled onto him.
A burst of wind blew by him so powerful it
nearly threw him from his feet. Thorne stood in the shadows
wondering what had just happened. Wind didn't blow indoors. He
reached out again to discover the mind of someone else very much
alive. It was full of rage at the holes yet there was an underlying
sense of pleasure in its thoughts.
Somehow, the mind had just appeared near the
holes. Wait. . . Now there were only two holes . . . No, all the
holes had vanished. Thorne felt a gust of wind on his face and in
front of him stood a young man dressed in street clothes holding a
machete that dripped blood onto the wooden floor. The man smiled
offering him a hand. "Hi, I'm Nate. Couldn't help but notice you on
my way in. I thought maybe you could use some help."
Thorne looked Nate in the eye and spoke a
single word, "Sleep."
Nate collapsed tumbling over as if struck by
an invisible blow to the head. Yanking some rope out of his
backpack, Thorne knelt by Nate and hurriedly tied the man's hands
and feet. It was a dangerous chance to take. More of the dead would
surely be coming if the ones Nate had slaughtered could find this
place yet Thorne didn't see any other option. If he
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