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#Post#: 217--------------------------------------------------
Ring Around the Rosy
By: Dmitri Date: October 13, 2012, 4:59 pm
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Ring around the Rosy
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My trouble began when I took in my younger cousin. His parents
died tragically and he had no place to go. God damn morality.
Should have left the child to starve in the streets , yet I took
him with me. I thought I could give him a new home, a new start.
I was a fool.
I opened the door for him, he nodded in thanks. He looks about
ten years old but I know he is much more intelligent than he
appears. One would have to be, in order to survive in this city.
He steps onto the floorboards of my sparsely furnished home
without a sound. He stares at the TV in the corner.
I close the door behind us. I’m wearing a rather heavy jacket
and carrying a black duffel bag, which I drop by the kitchen. My
apartment is small, two bedrooms with a living room, bathroom,
and a kitchen. I watch as the child sits on the couch in front
of the television. I go to my room and close the door. I take
off my jacket, and with it, my bullet proof vest. I un-strap my
USP .45 from my shoulder holster and I remove both of my knives.
I lay them on the nightstand before me, throwing my jacket to
the bed. I bend over to take the extra gun from my boots when
suddenly the lights go out. Not just flicker out, but literally
blown out, and I hear from the living room an ungodly shriek.
I pull the gun from my boot and I take a step forward in the
dark. I don’t get far as I hit the bed post with my shin. I
curse quietly before reaching behind me and pulling out my
flashlight. I turn it on and move to the door.
I open it, gun pointing outward towards the illuminated
hallway. I am at the end of the corridor, the other bedroom
facing me. The door is closed though, so I quickly turn the
light down the hall. One of my lamps are knocked over and I hear
static from the television. I walk forward cautiously, the
floorboards under me creaking quietly.
I sweep the living room with my light, my hand trembling. The
light sweeps across the overturn furniture, across the
overturned television, and over a figure hunched in the corner
of the room. It’s wearing the same color of clothing as the
little boy, but I stop myself from calling to it. Something is
off. Something is WAY off.
I keep my gun trained on it, wishing I had my more powerful .45
USP in my hand instead of the pussy 9mm. I place each foot in
front of each other, approaching silently. I nudge the figure
with my gun.
It turns around, facing me, shrieking. Its face splits open
revealing rows upon rows of razor sharp teeth, its skin a dark
mottled gray. I stumble back, trying to keep my light trained on
it and I shoot. The first bullet rips through its shoulder while
the next hits its lower chest. The creatures’ face contorts with
what looks like pleasure before scrambling up the wall closest
to it. Digging its nails into the solid concrete, it crawls
above me and onto the ceiling. I fire again, but it’s too fast
and my bullet hits the concrete ceiling.
It crawls across the ceiling into the hallway beyond,
disappearing into the darkness before I could train my light on
it again. I get up, the gun in my hand shaking violently. I keep
my back pressed to the wall, my light and weapon trained where
it disappeared. I reach the door to the world outside. I shove
my weapon under the arm which holds the light, gripping it
tightly, before wrapping my hand around the doorknob. I turn the
knob.
Nothing. It won’t open. A knife is sticking out of the door,
the blade itself shattered in-between the lock, trapping me in
the room with that…thing. I resist the urge to scream for help.
I know my neighbors wouldn’t hear me through the thick concrete.
How could I get out? Only one way now. The window in my room.
I take a step toward my potential salvation, then I remember. I
quickly move to the duffel bag I sat down earlier. I open it,
and with a smile, pull out a fully automatic, compact AK-47. I
click off the safety and I slam a clip into the weapon, the
bullet entering the chamber with an audible click. I reach in
again and pull out my other weapon, this one demanding much more
respect. Mossberg 500. A fully automatic shotgun that fires
solid slugs. I grin, loading the gun with its eight rounds.
Nothing invades my home and lives. I lower my flashlight down
for a moment before reaching into the bag one last time, pulling
out a small flashlight that I then attach to the barrel of the
shotgun. I slide my pistol in my boot and sling the rifle around
my shoulder. I click on the light and I look up.
Standing directly in front of me, its eyes bore into mine. At
least, I think they are eyes. Just narrow slits, its skin
stretched back from the face. It shrieks, I fire. The solid slug
ripping through its body. It stumbles back before regaining its
balance. It takes another step toward me and I fire once more,
the next one slamming into its chest, ripping a ragged hole
through its body. Before I could fire thrice though, it rushes
forward, raking me with its claws. I feel my blood gush from my
chest as the creatures talons rip through my skin.
Grimacing, I fire again, the slug blowing its arm off at the
shoulder. It bares its fangs at me one last time before running
past me and down the dark hallway. I fire two more rounds at it
before it disappears into my room. I look down at the severed
arm. It writhes violently, moving as though it were still
connected. To my disbelief, it starts sizzling, dissolving into
a puddle of black goo with noxious fumes.
I check my wounds. It got me good. The wound was deep, yet it
missed vital organs. Thank god for adrenaline. Were it not for
that, then I would be doubled over with pain. I check my guns
LED ammo screen on the side. 3 slugs remaining.
With a snarl, I march down the hallway, and turn the corner to
my room, my light flirting over the creature. It shrieks, I
snarl. It starts to run for me, but by the time it starts
moving, I am already in motion.
I drop the shotgun and pull my automatic rifle to bear. With a
scream of rage, I fire full automatic into the charging mass of
flesh and teeth. The rifle cracks with each bullet, flashing
light illuminating the room and I can’t help but to notice it
has a new arm. What have I gotten myself into?
It stops as though it hit a brick wall. My solid steel bullets
hitting and ripping through it like paper. My gun clicks. I
press the button on the side and the clip ejects before slapping
in a fresh one. I made a mistake.
Panicked, I pull out my flashlight that I stuck behind my back
belt and shine the light into the room. It’s gone. I back into
the wall, holding the light with my left as I scan the room with
my weapon. That’s when I hear the ragged breathing.
With a soft cling what looks like a bent piece of metal falls
from the ceiling in front of my face. Then another one. Then
another.
I look up. It’s facing the other way, its back to my light and
I see the holes in its body closing up, the metal slugs being
forced out. It’s bigger now and bulging with grotesque muscle
mass. Its skin is mottled black, blending in perfectly with the
darkness. Small spines cover its body, especially its back. They
gleam as my light hits it. I know that if I were to touch it, it
would rip me in half. Its arms are unnaturally long, as are its
legs. The things wicked looking claws dig into the concrete.
I press my finger against the trigger. As I do, its body stops
twitching. Slowly, it starts to turn its spherical head. Slowly,
slowly, until it turns its head all the way around. It opens its
mouth, which takes up most of its face, and screams at me. A god
wrenching scream.
I fall back, firing my gun as it drops onto me. The light falls
from my hand and my gun is tossed aside. I try and press against
it but its muscles are harder than steel. I feel its teeth press
into my neck and I close my eyes, needles of pain ripping
through my chest and stomach before my neck is torn out. I,
Aidan the mercenary, am no more.
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