Short Story: Movie Night

[ A short vampire tale for all of you to enjoy! This was originally posted on my FictionPress account, but I’m slowly phasing that account out in favor of the awesomeness of WordPress and Wattpad! ]

She ran fast and hard as her chest heaved and her throat hurt. She was glancing over her shoulders frantically and stumbling deeper into the maze of alley corridors.

She could hear behind her noises weaving and turning here and there. There was someone – or something, chasing her at great speed in a manner almost mocking her with loud agile steps. With a rustle, a chuckle. She was being hunted.

Never a glance, never a flash. Instead only shadows and noise followed her deeper and deeper into the urban maze. She didn’t have to see them to know they were there, the signs were all around her. An echoing clunking noise of his feet, a slight laugh and deep breathing. The odd shadow on the wall or scurry of a rat ducking for cover.

If she had time to think she might have wished she had worn her running shoes, rather then the Birkenstock sandals which seemed to slap at her feet uselessly. At least perhaps with shoes she could use the traction to run even faster.

It seemed a foolish idea to begin with, seeing the movie in this part of town. Woven with back alleys and shops she didn’t know – darkened by the night and casting eerie shadows. And making the decision to walk home by herself.

She had seen the viewing which ended half past midnight. It was now just past one in the morning. Still dark enough to hide in these city streets. Dark enough for anything to happen.

A cat startled by her awkward run screeched at her causing her to let out a small shout of her own before she stopped and caught her breath facing three walls and no where out. All was silent for the moment.

It was a long few minutes as she breathed in and doubled over while letting her lungs catch her breath shakily. Her ears were perked, listening and waiting. But for a few moments she heard nothing. It would seem that with all the running, and all the commotion perhaps there was not anyone chasing her. Maybe it all had been in her head. An overactive imagination, nothing more.

It was a long few moments. A very long hesitation as she straightened herself up. The movie she had seen was the latest vampire movie. Some suave male heir who used this money and wealth to seduce woman during the day – only to hunt them down later in the middle of the night.

It featured bloody scenes as he beat them before having his way with them and finally feeding on their blood before they died. Her nerves were on edge. All the blood and gore, all the senseless violence, and all the dramatic bloodstained moments made every hair on her body tingle. Her nerves were raw, her knees weak.

She seemed to laugh a bit over the silliness of her fear. What did she really think he was somehow going to follow her out of the movie screen? Come for her too like he did the other women? Perhaps have his violent bloody way with her?

She eased her nerves, laughed again at herself and checked to make sure her jacket still held her wallet and keys. When her fingers passed by the key to her industrial loft she stroked it, jingling the keys absently as if trying to comfort herself. Her eyes scanned the shadows and she giggled more openly.

Just then a dark form of shadow slipped from the wall and revealed itself in the form of a man. She wasn’t sure how long he stood there waiting and watching her, biding his time and looking over every inch of her body. On his lips played a nasty grin.

He was dressed in studded black leather and spiked red tipped hair. Half gleaming in the light were silver skulls along the leather trim. He chuckled and laughed in a harsh heady way as he strolled from the shadows protection into the weak light of the dark alley.

His cheeks were flushed from the chase. In his hand something else silver glinted in the full moonlight from above them. It looked like a knife.

“Hello Doll, where are you off to?” As he approached and light crossed his face, even more details came into clear view. His eyes were colored yellow, his grin hinted at a flash of pointed teeth. Not just teeth, but Fangs.

She backed up towards the wall, stumbling a foot against the metal of a garbage bin. He followed her awkward steps deeper into the secluded trap. He was practically aching to get her now and she was making it so amazingly easy.

“Cat got your tongue? Don’t feel up for chatting? Well that’s okay. I know how we can have a lot more fun.” He rubbed his thick thumb against the handle of his switch blade. Looked her body over with a long husky growl.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Her voice was soft, careful. She moved a bit more towards the corner of the walls. He didn’t mind, it would only make her easier to pin. In fact she seemed to be sealing her own fate.

Already thoughts rushed his mind of exactly what he wanted to do to her. It made him lick his lips in anticipation. He made sure she could see his thick tongue drift over one of his fangs.

“No? Come on, you’re going to like it. I’m going to fulfill all your little fantasies. I know your type.” He stepped closer now boxing her in like the final move in a game of chess.

In truth, he was far more interested in his own fantasies then hers. His cheeks flushed more with the thrill, and he felt the blood rush with adrenaline in his veins. She caught now a whiff of something strong. Whiskey she thought.

Whiskey, violence, and lust.

“Oh? You know my type?” He reached out and rested a hand over her right shoulder. The smell was thicker now. It rolled off his breathing. She turned her head away, breathed in. Pressed herself back some against the wall.

It gave him a beautiful view of her chest as she stiffened and arched her back.

Again his eyes trailed over her, looking over the tight fitting ripped t-shirt. Featuring skulls, hearts and roses. Her own short leather jacket, with coffin charms. She was dressed for this flick, made up in glorious goth black against her pale skin. He loved the way these horror fans dressed. It made him tingle. These vampire freaks always made his juices flow.

This was why he adored this game, and why she was now center stage. The tight jeans and thick black painting on her eyes made her look so delicious, so into the movie – that she was completely irresistible. He couldn’t believe his luck when he had followed her outside the movie, and she made her fateful decision to walk alone. It was as if she was all wrapped up for him, ready and waiting. It was like she was asking for this.

He thought of the last one he enjoyed. How much he enjoyed her, over and over again. And she had not been nearly as pretty as the scared little one laid out in buffet in front of him. He felt like feasting indeed.

“Of course. You’re the type who dream of this. Who crave this.” He grinned wider, licked his fangs for her again, rolled his tongue along them and over his lips. “I bet you’ve seen this movie more then once. Dressed like this… you know you were asking for it. All your types like that…”

“Actually…” She breathed in carefully and sharply as he ran the edge of the blade against her thigh. It was sharp and cold, it left a small imprint on her jeans and took her breath away. One long moment, then she began to breath as he brought it up along her ribs.

She closed her eyes and shivered as he traced it up and over her left breast. Lightly, yet firm enough to mean business. He’d done this before. Then the trail passed her breasts and up her shoulder.

“…you’re wrong.” She breathed slowly, carefully. Her reactions screamed that she enjoyed every moment of it, even if she tried hard to deny the thought. Her body betrayed. He almost could guarantee she’d be wanting him before he could have some real fun.

They always resisted at first. Until they got into it of course, and then he was their god. This same game played out many times before. She would certainly be no different. Who makes up a police report saying a vampire raped them?

He trailed the flat of his blade along her cheek. Lowered his other hand to carefully run down her side. He couldn’t resist anymore, he had to touch her, to own her. To take her.

God she was pale. So beautifully pale. And she smelled intoxicating. Some sort of gothic perfume that he wished every girl would wear. His hand trailed lower over her hips and letting his wandering fingers push roughly at her thighs.

“Am I now, Doll?”

She nodded slowly and turned to watch him right in his golden colored eyes. Golden eyes which held the tell tale ring of contacts. Her eyes however were the most intense blue he had ever seen. A blue which seemed to be cold. Ice cold.

Cold enough he shivered.

“See… my type just hunts here.” And with that she pushed off the wall, slamming into him with such a force that his fake fangs clattered out of his mouth pulling one of his real teeth with it.

Something sharp and painful embed into his throat with such force he nearly choked on air. His mind screamed that somehow she must have wrestled the knife away and stabbed him. The pain was at such intensity that he found he couldn’t pull any air back into his lungs. He had the odd sensation of water pouring out of his throat like a riptide.

And then, it all became horrifyingly real. It wasn’t the knife that was embedding into his throat, it was her. Her fangs to be precise. Her fangs that were far more then his costume shop version of dental acrylic and adhesive. Her fangs that were now pulling blood from his ripped open throat.

She drank heavily of him first, taking her fill greedily before turning and slamming him back against the very wall he attempted to trap her into. It proved to be great leverage, and made his blood run quicker. Spiced with shock like a fine vintage wine.

He gurgled while tried to pull away, the air passing his ripped throat making bubbles instead of screams. Already she was tearing her fangs through his veins, to his jugular. Opening him up and gulping at the excess of blood pouring out of him like a river. This was no romantic event, no Hollywood ecstasy. This was hunger at its most primal. She could taste bits of flesh and vein slip down her throat with the gulping of his blood, she didn’t care. After all, you don’t sympathize with your food.

She grinded her body up against him, taking him in such a way that made his head rush. The gurgling blood soaked mess and the whines and attempts to beg ruined any composure he could have had. It was sensory overload. He was completely, and utterly useless. A slave to her hungers.

There was only so much blood in a human body, so she paused finally and pulled away breathing in the cool air. A sensuous shiver racked her body as she calmed listening to the rush.

Her eyes finally caught his again. Already he was glazing over, slipping away. His neck was slit and mauled in such a way that even the best surgeon would have a hard time keeping their lunch down. There was no help for him, and certainly no second chance.

“What’s wrong doll?” she chuckled sarcastically, voice lusty as she could hear his heart beat out its last struggling tones. She rolled her tongue across her lips and chin as she savored his thick artery blood like caviar. “Cat’s got your tongue?”

Eyes forever wide and staring simply watched her as his body leaned against the wall. His warm and wet blood didn’t take long to chill, already it drew away and made his body look powdered white. She didn’t need to touch it to know that already it was starting to assimilate the coolness of the brick wall he was slouched against. They seemed to die so quickly, over the smallest of things.

“These vampire freaks…” she chuckled to herself. “Wouldn’t know the real thing if it snuck up and bit them.”

She grinned and lowered down beside his still body. She had far more time to examine him closer now. Her body was humming with contentment and she could no longer hide the wide grin from her face.

She would never get enough of this game. It made her feel alive again, and it was so much easier to hunt them when they believed it was all their idea.

She reached out and pulled the silver chain from around his neck and studied it carefully.

An ankh. It would go well with her next costume.
After all, she always enjoyed dressing up for Movie night.




Dusk Creek: Chapter Fourteen

[ The final chapter.. for this story at least. ]

His life didn’t flash before his eyes. Neither did he feel himself die. He simply slept.

When his consciousness finally stirred to life again he realised he could breathe. His lungs still hurt and his arm throbbed, but he could breathe. He also realised he was not floating in an endless black sea, but laying on something firm.

His eyes opened and he was blinded by light. He shut them firmly, rolled to the side and coughed up mouthfuls of black water, hacking and shivering.

Just breathe.” It was a woman’s voice and a soft hand on the square of his back.

He wheezed in air like a college student guzzling a bottle of Jack. His nerves convulsed and he hacked and coughed painfully. He felt pain through every nerve in his body. The realisation came to him that he must somehow still be alive if he hurt this much.

His heart dropped and he tried to open his eyes again. The blinding light eased up.

Dusk Creek?” he choked out, still trying to adjust.

He squinted and her form started to take shape.

Solarium.” She said simply. The bone skull shone on top of her head, her hair brilliantly flaring behind her like a mane. Her wings outstretched on either side of her shoulders like tattered evening sky. She wore the most beautiful shade of crimson he’d ever seen wrapped around her body.

We’re in the Solarium?” His voice was rasping, his mind running. She was alive. He was alive. Something had changed. Chuckled laughter slipped out of his stripped throat. “We got out!”

They were free from the hellish city. They were saved from the black waters. She was alive and she looked beautiful. But her lips weren’t turned up in a smile. Instead, they seemed curved down. A frown of concern edging on her lips.

No. My name.” she whispered softly. “I am Solarium. I remember now. I’m one of the guardians of the Solarium. I’m the last one left. The others… they all died.”

He tried to move his feet and noticed that one was stuck against something. Looking down he saw it strapped to the bed he was on. The simple bed of metal and linen. A hospital bed. Details of the room started to faze into existence as his eyes cleared.

He was scraped up and stitched; a simple material gown covered him only barely. Around him the room was white, cement, and reflected too brightly of florescent light. There were no doors, no windows.

What?” He looked at her and reached out to touch her cheek. His fingers slid right through.

I’m sorry Corey. I wanted to keep you, but I can’t. It’s because of you this happened.” Her image started to fade, just as her feathers did whenever they emerged. Only now it was her whole body, the pale white becoming translucent.

He yanked at the foot restraint as panic started to rise.

Because of me? What the fuck is going on!” He screamed and tried to yank his foot free. It banged loudly as he thrashed.

Your one of the ones that hurt me, like the others. The humans. You’ve been contaminated now by the blast.” Her voice was again, cold and toneless. “Your kind corrupt things here. You make ones like us forget who we are. If we allowed you back into any of the worlds you could contaminate others.”

Look I just want to go home! I’m not contaminated; I’m not like the others!” His eyes were red now, pleading. “You have to let me go!”

I thought maybe you were different. I was sick, and I thought maybe I was different too. But it will only take time, Corey. Eventually the contamination will show and you will be just as twisted as they are. That’s what it does.” Her wings stretched out, tattered bristled edges. “Your soul can’t leave Dusk Creek, Corey. I can’t allow it.”

You can’t do this! What about Shep? Shep liked me!”

You were alive then… I tried to keep you alive. It was your only option. But you died here, and now you can’t leave. You are like them now. They all died too, and they turned into those things.”

But I’m not dead!” he screamed.

You drowned. You are human and you drowned. I can’t. The only thing that can kill us is what you already did. I’m the last one left. I can’t die. I am the Solarium.”

You’re wrong! You’re fucking wrong!”

You won’t be eaten like the others were.” Her eyes softened, sadly. “When one of them gets eaten they turn into something worse. They keep contaminating this place from the inside of the others. I spared you from that.”

He thought of all those creatures, mindless killers. Feasting on each other. Each part of them continuing to exist in some form separated from their body. Torn into many facetted pieces which could still think and feel. Endless pain that would never stop.

I’m all alone now and I’ve got so much to do. I need to hunt down anyone else contaminated like you who may have escaped. I need to hunt down those who did this and bring them all back here. None of you can leave Dusk Creek, Corey. It’s what you all created. It’s your punishment.”

I saved your life!” he screamed and his voice cracked. Again he clawed at the restraint with renewed vigour. His ankle started to bleed as his nails dug deep into his skin trying to pry it free. “You can’t leave me in this hell!”

It was then he realised the black spot on his leg. It stretched from his hamstring up the back of his leg. The discolouration seemed darkest in his veins and looked as if it were crawling. It was burning hot to the touch and he wanted to vomit.

Maybe in time I can fix the damage you made. Maybe I can find others to help. There is so much to do. I’m afraid this is goodbye Corey. I will miss you.”

I can help you!” He was desperate now. His hands shook like a leaf.

I would have liked that, but it’s already too late for you. Don’t worry, soon it won’t matter. You won’t remember me or your loved ones. You won’t care about freedom or happiness. You will be like them. Part of the chaos. It won’t hurt so much then.”

Her voice was the last to disappear. It hung and lingered in the air like a curse. Finally his leg restraint gave way and he managed to tear it off with his blood soaked fingers. He fell off the bed and hobbled to his feet.

Have to get out, have to get out!” He mumbled terrified. The more his heart beat like a hummingbird the more he could feel the burn spreading through every vein.

There might not have been a door, but there was a window. It was cut out from the thick cement walls and had four tight bars blocking him from freedom. He managed to grab the edge and hoist himself up to look outside. His breath caught in his throat and his eyes grew wide and wet. He saw outside, into the city of nightmares. Fires burned somewhere in the distance, and the streets were bare. On the horizon the horde was coming for him. Marching like black wraith’s on the wind sensing live food. Sensing one not quite their own. At least not their own just yet.

No… Please no…” The faded black lettering of a sign could barely be seen.

Dusk Creek Mental Asylum

This time he screamed so hard it came out as a disfigured howl.

In cells next to him the howls repeated and echoed over and over again. He had looked into the abyss and it looked back at him and grinned beneath a crow’s skull.

[ Thank you for allowing me to share this story with you all! It is well loved and I may again revisit the strange place like the Solarium or Dusk Creek in future tales! For now, thank you again. This story, Dusk Creek, and the characters are (c) me, but it has been my pleasure to share this tale with you all here on Black Quill Blog! ]

Dusk Creek: Chapter Thirteen

[ Beware the waters of Dusk Creek… ]

Joan had long been lost to him. He wished now he had kept a grip on that lovely metal thing. Lost to him like its namesake had been. Still he managed to at least get back to the familiar surroundings that he new led to his destination. Towards the creek.

He ran the whole way. Barely stopping to breathe. That was until he saw it. A pack of black things feasting on the remains of one of their own. In fact it looked like they were tearing apart and eating from the gangrene body of the large dogs who hunted him before.

They stopped, sniffed the air and then saw him. Blood and sinew hanging from their jaws and slurping against their throats and necks.

Shit!” He ran to the right, running fast towards the bridge.

They were on his heels, snarling and spitting blood with each pump of their black little hearts. A scream caught in his throat accented with curse word after curse word. More black things followed and he glanced back for a moment to see a blur of black things trailing him.

He couldn’t outrun them at this pace. But he didn’t need to.

Forget about the boat, the gun, the lantern and any safety measures. Fuck it all. He ran headlong up the bridge of the overpass, kissed his ass goodbye and continued running long and hard up and off the crumbling remains of the last bridge out.

His body flew while his legs still kicked and for a moment he remembered the sensation of flight. Of being held by that distorted angel who saved him from the monsters before. He barely remembered her above him, clutching tight as her wings extended out. Those wings that he saw far above him now.

She was there, watching his decent into the black waters. He wanted to call out to her, but before he could even speak he hit the water and his world snapped to an endless black crash. He was still falling, but slower now. Sinking. He was sinking and she was gone.

This is it.” As the water rushed into all his sensation he felt heavy and surrounded. “I’m dying.”

For a moment he was at peace. He had always heard that drowning was a painful way to die, but in this case it felt as if drowning was his only way out. His lungs burned, his arm burned, even his legs stung with fire. The water seemed to be the only release.

Just as his lungs felt as if they were about to burst something grabbed him by the chest.

The sudden realization hit him like a brick wall. They must have fallen in with him and were still wishing to feast on his flesh like rabid sharks. He screamed as claws dug into him and he kicked and screamed in the water as he fought to find the surface. They were yanking on him, snarling at him. Trying to tear him apart.

Finally he broke the black creeks surface and his lungs heaved pained trying to take in as much oxygen as they could. He wheezed, coughed hacked and thrashed his limbs trying to fight them off.

It was then that something gripped his hand firmly and held it still. His eyes met hers. It wasn’t the monsters ripping him apart. It wasn’t the enemies at the gates. It was her. She dove for him and forced him to the surface.

I can’t swim.” She said weakly, still trying to balance her wings on top of the water to keep herself from sinking.

Corey saw the panic in her eyes and his heart sunk. “What?”

I can’t swim.” She repeated and struggled to pull her wings up more, her head bobbed and her mask pulled downward.

Just hold onto me. I’ll swim us back to the bridge.” He looked back and brushed the hair out of his eyes. There was no longer a bridge, and no longer safety. The shore swarmed with black things waiting. “fuck!”

He looked back to her and her eyes were large and silent. So large that his terrified face reflected back at him. The large graceful wings which allowed her to soar the sky were merely pulling her deeper now. Yet the strong laboured flaps seemed to be the only thing keeping her at the surface.

Corey struggled to keep a grip on her arms and kicked his legs harder to try and keep them both afloat. She was cold, fragile. She clung to him for a moment in a tight hug which broke his heart.

Why did you dive!” he screamed. Her weight was immense now and he shook her to get her attention. Her legs thrashed and she bobbed up a bit more before starting to sink again.

I wanted to save you.” The answer was meek. Barely more then a whisper. Her arms released him and she pushed away.

Why?” He gripped her arm, yanked her back towards him. “Why the fuck would you do that? You were safe!”

She was soaking wet, but the tears she cried were blood tinged and separated themselves in distinct lines running down her white skin. Her mask slipped from her head and descended into the darkness, cutting the waters deep with its pointed edge. Within seconds it was gone.

I didn’t want to be alone. I’m sorry.”

Look we are going to get out of here, you can… can’t you just… do something!”

I’m sorry.” She reached up and stroked a talon through his hair. Her voice was a whisper now, barely heard above the sound of the water. And without another word her wings stopped moving. Her legs stopped kicking. She sank like a stone even as he clawed at the water trying to grab at her.

No!” he screamed clawing frantically. “Don’t you leave me!”

It was too late.

One breath passed. Then another. And then he snarled his frustration in a low rumble before he clawed and kicked, swimming down following her trail. He wasn’t going to run this time, he wasn’t going to simply give up. If he was going to die it would be trying to do the right thing.

Down until the darkness swallowed up all hope of knowing up from down.

Just as he thought it was hopeless he saw a slender sliver of white breaking the blackness. He reached out, released his breath and grabbed her hand. Her talons felt like ice against the skin of his wrist.

You aren’t leaving me.” His mind screamed as he clenched his hand tight.

I can’t hold on…” her words trailed into his memory as he started to black out.

Just breathe…” he thought over and over.

I can’t hold—“

Dusk Creek: Chapter Twelve

[ ‘Of explanations and theories…’ or ‘When fools rush in..’ (or out in Corey’s case…) The story continues. Dusk Creek (c) Me. ]

When the bombs fell, the Solarium around ground zero was shattered into chaos. Each of the four bombs exploded causing the balance that the Solarium had kept since the dawn of time to be knocked asunder.

The purpose of the missiles were to try and breach the veil of the worlds. To retrieve vital resources and to bring about a new renaissance for mankind. The Geneva convention had already ordered such things too dangerous to achieve and far too dangerous to try. And yet like all things – people in charge thought themselves above moral convictions.

Four modified weapons were used to breach the veil of the Solarium. Released in the hours of the morning they fell silently and destroyed the boundaries around the blast sight. However it didn’t create a door into fantastic other worlds. It didn’t give humanity a paradise to raid and escape to. It slammed the worlds together and created the city of nightmares. It created Dusk Creek.

As Corey had experienced, it was a city on the edges of madness. The convergence of chaos into hellish monstrosity. It was as if the negligence, force and twisted desires of the blast had transformed the place inside Solarium into just as violent and twisted things. Or at least, the places of the blast. It was a dome they were trapped in. The Creek was not an endless ocean. It was the very waters of the Solarium itself.

And yet there was her. There was Shep. And there was him. Some things weren’t changed into evil twisted things. Some things remained as shadows of what they were before the blast.

Corey learned from her that there were people here before he escaped the hospital. People who like him, were hunted down and devoured or drowned in the Creek trying to escape. Neither of them knew why some were transformed while others remained the same; only that once they changed – they were mindless vicious creatures. And hungry. So very hungry.

They were perched in the tower of an old library. A modified room turned into a safety nest. But both knew it was only temporary. All things in Dusk Creek seemed temporary.

Eventually the information dried up. There was much the creature didn’t know – and even more she didn’t seem to know about herself. In fact she seemed to grow pained and silent every time Corey pried about her life and how she in fact survived.

The only facts that he had so far is that Shep had been with her at the beginning and that she was not as human as he wanted to believe she was. She had no memory of her name, her purpose or her race. Only that she was and would continue to be.

You can’t go out there.” He watched her teetering on the edge of the window frame. Her wings were already outstretched from her back like a huge eagle. In her arms, the bundle of black fur and a stitched blanket acting as a casket.

Deserves to sleep.” She whispered quietly, glancing down to study the animal clutched in her grasp. Already she was starting to smell and decay. The wounds even stitched seemed festered and septic.

They’ll kill you too!”

No. I’m quicker then them.” She clutched the animal closer, adjusted her footing.

He grabbed her foot and clung on to it tightly. “No, I won’t let you.”

Her beak turned, razor sharp and she growled like a wild thing. He faltered, pulled his fingers back. Then with a simple growl snarling in her throat she clutched her talons into the dead animal, leaned forward, and dropped a good length of the tower before slamming her wings out and leaving him.

In a few moments her dark form simply disappeared into the archaic ruins around the library.

Great. I’ve pissed her off.” He sighed and looked around. “Great job Corey. If she doesn’t come back I’m royally screwed.”

There were still so many answers he needed from her. He had to find out how she knew about the Solarium and if she knew of any ways out. To do that he needed to gain her trust, but how do you gain the trust of someone who refuses to trust you? She saved him. More then once. Perhaps somehow he already had some trust with her.

And yet he also recalled what she had said. There were others here, like him. Hunted and tormented. And she didn’t seem to succeed with saving any of them.

If this hell hole is part of the broken area of the Solarium, wouldn’t the Creek be the outer edges?” he looked around the room and pulled out a few pieces of dirty white material. With a salvaged pencil he started sketching the remembered areas of Dusk Creek.

It made sense. Surrounding the city at all sides was the creek itself. The swirling black waters that tasted like blood. That had to be the key to getting out of here.

The only thing he needed was a boat, a shotgun, a lantern and a hope in hell…

When she returned, Corey was gone. He broke down the door she had sealed off to hide the stairs from the twisted things that hunted. It wouldn’t be long till some of them found their way into her nest of safety.

Fool.” She groaned as she sat annoyed. Her heart still wrenched from having to bury her only friend. This foolish human was going to ruin the only sanctuary she had left.

Yet he was the only one of them left now. Without him, she would be truly alone. And Shep had chosen him to protect in her great wisdom and compassion. Her companion, her Shepherd. If she thought he was important then she had to have seen something in him worth saving.

She shoved her favourite dresser down the stairs. Then her favourite chest and all the collected objects she salvaged that were heavy and awkward. They tumbled down the stairs and blocked the passage once more. Maybe she would be lucky and they would leave the area be. Or maybe she would have to hunt down every object again.

Either option meant little to her in the long run. It was merely truths that had to be addressed at other times. There were more important things to focus on.

She would have to find him. He must be somewhere, vulnerable and stupid, waiting for her to rescue him. She was needed somehow and it did at least distract her from her sorrow. She wished she could remember when she felt needed before Dusk Creek. Yet all she could remember was a hollow spot that made her feel sick inside.

Out her feathers bristled feeling the cool wind of the desolate city. Caressing them with each feather tip as she dropped another time, free as a bird in a gilded cage. Her heart beat wildly, her eyes closed. She’d felt this drop so many times that she knew it’s sensations by heart. Further and further, pushing it by long seconds before finally she gave in to the desire to live.

Feathers and muscles snapped out causing her wings to finally catch the updraft. Her wings propelled her across the city sky. She searched for him.

He couldn’t have gone far.” She reminded herself as her eyes scanned carefully and the skull mask directed wind away from her sight. “Humans are slow.”

Dusk Creek: Chapter Ten

Shep had not moved in an hour. Her chest rose and fell but she didn’t move, even to wag her tail. Corey had not left her, even when his stomach grumbled and pained for food. He was afraid that should he turn his head from her, she would simply die.

He had tried to sort out his options all morning. He could build a boat, try to cross the creek – but for all he knew it was an ocean. Like Tiny being the name of a gigantic dog because the name is stupid and ironic. He could try to find a phone again, dial the operator. Get emergency numbers. But who would hear him? Who or what would come? And he had so far had no luck finding any sort of internet connection.

It felt hopeless.

The only thing he knew was that the light seemed to slow the things down. They seemed to hide from it just as he was hiding from them. But no matter how bright the daylight was eventually it always faded into the darkness again.

He sat, perched on a rock as he watched the dog falter, breath in roughly, then relax. Then once more its chest would rise. Every time there would be a pause he thought that it was finally the end.

And then he saw it.

Its skin was black, coated in blood and flesh but for where there was smears of skin underneath it shone white. A blue alabaster white. Her gait was slow, lumbering. Dragging herself damaged and war torn towards the bridge. The battered skeletal mask still shone. It was her.

Corey wasn’t sure what to do. He was just as frightened of her as he had been the others, at least he knew what the others motives were. If he ran, he’d leave Shep to die for sure. If he fought her, he’d be just as dead. All that he could do was clear his throat and hope like hell.

Hey…” he called out, voice cracking. “Here… are you okay?”

No.” She called weakly, but her voice was still familiar. Still alive. She managed four more steps, wobbled and dropped to her knees. She hesitated a moment, then slowly crawled a step and stood shaky once more.

She’s going to make it.” It was like cheering for a car crash. You just can’t look away.

Just as he thought she regained enough strength to make it to him proudly something suddenly rushed the woman from behind. He saw it like a smear of black taking shape. It ran from the shadows of a car a good twenty feet behind her, but it caught up fast.

Look out!” He clutched Joan but he would never make it there in time.

Like a car crash, he was captivated and horrified. It leapt at her, she turned. They spun together like a horrible wave crashing. And then another, and another. Black smears seemed to be taking their moment to erect revenge on the one who stole their meal.

There had to be six, maybe seven on her. A pile of snarling screaming black creatures trying to rip her apart. They had claws, spikes, mutilated faces and bodies. They tore into her and feathers and blood sprayed in such wild patterns in the sunlight.

He screamed. No word other then a primal snarl of frustration as he clutched Joan firmer and stood. He moved a step forward, a step back. He eyed the dying dog and the mass of writhing blackness. He came to a crossroads and he was terrified of each direction.

Fuck it!” He snarled, and this time he ran towards them instead of running away.

Joan held high above his head one of them turned to him. Opened its jaws like a thylacine and leapt towards him. Its arms were the closest target so he spun the crowbar down on them and they snapped apart. Its torso and jaws slammed into him like the force of a wrecking ball and he found himself on his back slammed into the asphalt. He managed to get the hooked part of the crowbar into its mouth and he twisted hard. Teeth snapped and pried its mouth open as the stumps of arms bashed into his face and chest.

He snarled and cranked the crowbar past the limits and there was a sick bloody snap as its head cracked off its neck and the jaw hung slack and broken. It writhed, gurgled and flowed blood like a gothic fountain soaking through his shirt and coating his chest underneath.

The beast was dead but still kicking. He had no time to completely finish it off before another was on him, tearing its jaws into his left arm so deep that the pain felt like lightning right to his bone.

This one was smaller, sleeker. It reminded him of a bratty child throwing a temper tantrum. He slammed the end of Joan down once and then twice before it broke through the stone that was its skull. Finally it squished into brain matter and the creature gurgled between blood and flesh of his arm. It released and fell to the floor convulsing before it too died.

His arm felt like searing flesh and blood was gushing from the wound. He looked up and held Joan high but the form that came at him wasn’t another of the black things. It was her. Somehow she had survived. She looked like a walking corpse as she touched his shoulder and fell upon him. Both faltered to the ground in a bloody heap. The groans of the dying around them and the laboured breathing of both of them harrowed their end.

She wrapped her arms around him, pressing herself close to his body. Their hearts beat, the time stopped. The pain seemed to subdue somehow. He let go of the crowbar and wrapped his arm up carefully around her.

Black things were coming for them. He saw them rise over each of her shoulders leering at them, coming down for the final strike. They let loose a multitude of blades from either of their sides… and then he realised they weren’t monsters coming to eat them. They were wings with razor edges and they rose from the vultures back. She gripped him harder still, managed to dig her bloody knees into the dirt and lifted off onto her feet and into the air.

She dug her talons into him as they left a trail of blood.

I can’t hold on.” He mumbled weakly as the sky grew closer.

Just breathe.” She croaked as the wind quickened around their ears.

I can’t hold…”

Dusk Creek: Chapter Nine

[ The world’s coming apart.. in more ways then one. Rated M for violence and language… ]

After he showered and found clean clothes, he slept for a great deal of time. He wasn’t sure how or why, but he slept well. Maybe it was simply the fact that he accepted his current situation. Or maybe it was simply because he had nothing else left in him.

His dreams were not really dreams at all. Just his mind recounting the horror of his new reality in Dusk Creek. Every sharp detail that was so blurred and unseen at the moment of the incident itself.

He even recalled a face as the creature lunged at him. A face that was unlike any other he’d ever seen. Large eyes, huge and milky white with pussy yellow creeping up on the edges. It’s large mouth open with spikes and teeth gaping like a rabid bat from hell.

He also realised that each creature he’s seen so far, looked completely different. They were all black twisted things, charred silver grey things. But while the one in the store reminded him of some rabid bat, the one in his car looked a lot more like a great white shark – mouth agape with several rows of triangle teeth.

When he woke it was in a cold sweat. He was dulled, got up and showered again before going through the routine of making something to eat for him and his four legged companion. Nothing was spoken, everything was on auto pilot. He wished he could go outside and play Frisbee with her. He wished he could call up a friend and just talk. Hell, he wanted to find Joan demand her back and marry the bitch. He wanted some sort of normalcy in his life. Instead all he had was the Summerside.

Three days he spent there, never leaving. Shep had to use the shower for a bathroom, but he didn’t care. He didn’t want to risk losing her. If he did, he’d just be alone. All over again. And somehow that seemed a worse fate then being ripped apart by those black twisted things outside. He would stare out the windows for hours – looking for any signs of help. It seemed quiet.

However on the third day of routine, the chaos found him. Outside of the windows he finally saw them come. The black twisted things darting in and out of the street. Hiding behind cars, monstrous things that sometimes ran like animals.

His heart caught in his throat all over again. Joan, clean and polished was at his side, hooked into the belt of his jeans. They were coming directly for the building. And it wouldn’t take long for them to burst in as he did into the apartment that was on the ground floor.

He remembered the missile. The complete panic as he watched it streak down the sky and tear apart his life. It felt like that except this wasn’t going to be a quick death if they caught him.

Shep was already growling, snarling. Rabid with warning. And then, as if moving at super speed they were at the door. Pounding, banging, snarling. There was pounding from above, things shattering the windows. He screamed and bashed the hooked end of the crowbar through ones of their necks, twisting hard and ripping out its throat. Blood spilled like a waterfall.

Shep was snarling and biting, ripping chunks of throat out of another who had managed to lift it’s morbidly obese front half into the back window. It snarled and soaked the carpet in the living room. Shep held it with one jaw while using the other to rip into its bottom jaw and tear it out, teeth and all. It still howled and screamed trying to crawl its girth into the room.

The door wasn’t going to hold long. It didn’t take a genius to figure that out. As much as he threw furniture against the door it wouldn’t do much good. Eventually they would get in. Either past the fat slug of a creature dying in the window, or through the walls.

There was a sudden smash from the ceiling. Then another. Then another that finally toppled a large piece of ceiling into the kitchen of the small apartment. It smashed onto the table where they had their breakfast. It smashed into the sink where he drank.

He held Joan high in his hands, screaming rage when something came through that hole.

It was the crow. The skeletal masked woman. She fell down onto the table, crouched and looked around. He swung the crowbar wildly but she slipped back away from him and avoided the mad rush. Just then one of the smaller creatures managed to slip past the dead girth blocking the window, it ran at him. He was screwed.

Just as he was bracing for impact the creature stopped. Something metal hung slack from the creatures neck, it’s jaw opened and hung slack against his bloody throat as it’s body twitched and hung loose as a hand raised.

The skeletal crow. The first nightmare. With a snarl she snapped its neck deftly with a sickening crack and show of force. Off the creatures head came in front of him, hanging slack like a war trophy from the talons of her other hand deeply buried into the creatures brain like a sick hand puppet.

She let the head lower until his eyes met hers beneath that mask of death. They were firm and calm. Clear and dark. They watched him with a cool intelligence that the other monsters seemed to lack. Her face was almost human save for the deepness of her eyes. Somehow those eyes were far more then any human could have.

Now. Run.” Her beak turned and motioned for the ceiling the contact of their eyes breaking.

And then she turned, chucking the sick head from her talons onto another twisted thing breaking into the room past the now torn and ripped apart bloody mess of what used to be the obese slug of a woman. They were coming in like ants, crawling and writhing through the opening like a feeding frenzy. She moved quickly, a flash of metal talons, slicing beak and strong taloned inhuman legs.

She was very much the bird. But nothing graceful, nothing serene. Cold, calculating, precise. A predator like the great eagles. A blood soaked vulture.

He wished he had stopped to grab Shep, or to at least find out where her black sleek form had disappeared in the chaos of the Smiths apartment. He wished he could have fought all of them. But his dog was gone, and there were too many of them. More monsters were coming into the room and were barely being held off.

Kill or be killed. Or run. And Corey Savage ran. He ran and climbed with as much desperation as any man who wanted to live. Up onto the table, he leapt up and managed to grip hold of the ceiling and worm his way up just as a few creatures broke through and clawed at his legs. He turned when he was up safely and pounding the crowbar down into the brains of one. Into the eye of another. His screams were that of a very desperate man.

Run you idiot!” screamed from below. For a moment he thought it was Joan and that his mind had truly gone. Then he realised it had to have been Her.

After flipping a table over the hole to keep them at bay he ran. He ran as hard as he could, slipping out the fire escape and onto the street. It was starting to lighten and each building looked decrepit and empty. Every car was lost and abandoned. He now knew why there were no bodies, no pieces of anyone left behind. Only cold hard things that were inedible.

That was why there were blood soaked cars. That is why the apartments were abandoned.

He didn’t stop. He occasionally saw shadows out of the corners of his eyes and it only made him run faster. Corey Savage had never been an athletic man. He’d worked out once in a while with his buddies, but he certainly wasn’t a health nut. In fact he sold his mountain bike years ago. Now however he was pushing himself to his absolute limits.

Something came at him from the right; he heaved Joan in the air bringing the crowbar down on top of the mangled looking skull. It cracked sickening and blood and brains spilled across the asphalt. He didn’t stop, he didn’t double tap. He continued to run like hell.

He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to see what damage those things could truly inflict if he stopped and gave them the wrong moment to act. It was a blur of madness, occasionally he would smell the foul stench of one gaining on him, he’d dodge left, dodge right. He even tumbled over the roof of a stalled car in order to get away.

Finally the light rose more, and he noticed he no longer saw any of the dark things following him. The coldness in the air lightened some with the burning of his muscles. It seemed like with the dying night the creatures slunk back into whatever hell hole they rose from.

Finally, completely spent and heaving he crouched and dropped onto his knees under the overpass. It was a small section under the broken bridge by the waters that he hoped no one would see him.

Joan was bathing in blood, making the sleek metal hard to hold onto and warm in his hands. He didn’t dare let her go though. It was his lifeline and had served him well. Sticky, dirty, but one hell of a bitch. He would kiss it if there weren’t remnants of brain still plastered in crimson attached.

He waited, breathing deep and ragged as the sun edged up in the sky and illuminated the edge of the road which crumbled into nothing above him. The black waters of the creek swirled into the thick fog which obscured the other side. The water itself smelt iron rich and deep. The creek was an ocean around him and his mind spun.

He had gone as far as he could. There was no where else to run. With nothing left in his body any more. He laid flat against the ground, closed his eyes and waited for the nightmare to end.

Sometimes all you can do is wait. Although he would give anything to sleep, he couldn’t. He laid there staring at the remnants of the bridge and feeling the wet air of the fog. He even crawled towards the creek and bathed his weapon in its water. Slowly and with care he cleaned the dark metal. A warrior with his sword, a gladiator with his shield. A fucking screwed and desperate man clutching a beat up crowbar.

When she was as clean as she could be, he safely tucked her at his side, then bent forward and cupped a handful of water. He drank with thirst, but was startled at the metallic taste. It reminded him of root canals and dental work. It reminded him of blood.

Something nudged up against him and he jolted to the side in horror. Shep was there and nuzzled each blood soaked head into the side of his arm. Battered and bruised, it was Shep he washed next in the waters of Dusk Creek. She certainly didn’t seem to mind; in fact in her own little silent way she seemed pleased to see him again, and just as pleased to have her fur and wounds cleaned and bathed.

I don’t know how you survived.” He mused to himself in barely a whisper. “But I’m glad you did, girl.”

He hugged the animal tight to him and received dual kisses up the sides of his arm. Her wounds were many but luckily not deep. They flushed clean with the water of the creek and flowed red tinted water back into the metallic water. He hoped she still had the power to heal like she did after he hit her with the car.

I’d rather die with you.” He whispered in almost a croak of a voice he didn’t recognize. “If it all has to end like this, I’d rather die with you.”

Dusk Creek: Chapter Eight

[ Chapter Ate? Hehe.. this has been really fun reliving this story through posting it chapter by chapter. I hope you are enjoying it as well. Story, characters, and the creepy town of Dusk Creek is (c) me. Also, another friendly reminder about the Mature rating on this story.. You’ve been warned. ]

With stomachs full and bladders relieved both Corey and Shep rested on the linoleum floor. Stretched beside them were wrappers and packaging of a mass feeding fest on all things food-like. They felt safe there. The doors were locked and they were full. But it became obvious as the light of the day started to fade that soon they would be in darkness again.

After a shelf scramble they soon were bathed in candle light. There were at least two full packages of emergency candles set up and burning around the store within the hour. Although it gave them light it also made things far more surreal and unsure.

Shadows flickered against the wall with each subtle breeze sending images and hallucinations of monsters around every shelf, against every wall.

What are we going to do girl?” He ran his fingers over between each of her heads. Finding that the best place to calm her. Her big tail thudded heavily against the floor. A gentle whine issued from both throats.

Maybe they would have rested comfortably there for the rest of the night. Maybe they would have actually been able to sleep undisturbed. But it soon became evident that they were not the only ones seeking refuge in the store. From down the isle of cans and bagged food a crash echoed. Two cans rolled out towards the candle light.

Corey froze, watching the can slowly roll towards them. He stood up with a jolt and Shep started an echo of growls low and angry. Her fur rose like a black Mohawk down her necks and up her broad back. She looked larger, like a grizzly bear.

Now it wasn’t only imagination, but actual shadows being cast from the candlelight as something approached. One by one things toppled and candles started to blow out.

Corey moved back slow and frightened to the counter where the cash register was. If this were his normal cohesive world he could have snuck into the cash register and set himself up with paying his bills for a while. But that wasn’t what his hand snuck back for.

He once had a friend who worked as a cashier. She told him that almost every convenience store that ran at night had a secret weapon behind the counter. A final desperate measure in-case a psycho came in for the register with guns blazing. Now Corey was that desperate person looking to stave back some unknown assailant.

His hand grabbed and thrusted around in the dark looking for something, anything. Can toppled, change spilled out. Something in the distance seemed to eye him. It was a weight he could feel creep over his body.

Shit! shit!” finally his hand wrapped around something long and smooth. It seemed to have cold bevelled edges. It was familiar from even the touches of his fingers along it.

Just as something large and black leapt at him, he pulled out the crowbar and slammed it into the things face. All he saw was blood and teeth and Shep’s both open maws attached deeply into it’s leg till it ripped flesh off.

Man’s best friend, she was holding the creature and Corey knew suddenly knew why. She was giving him time to run.

Fuck, not without you!” He lifted his hands up, slammed the crowbar down again and again. Each thud landed with a crack and squish. A primal scream choked from his throat while sudden flashes of Halloween jack-o-lanterns being crushed as a kid invaded his mind. It felt so similar. It was a blur of black, chaos and shadows, but the form stopped squirming.

Where a head should be was now a pile of cracked and leaking mush. Through the candlelight he couldn’t see much, the form was naked and yet like nothing he’d seen before. It was ashen black like something charred with areas of stone grey. There were disfiguring growths like spikes and claws, and although it had two legs, two arms, and an area that would have been its head. It was very much not human. It looked like some sort of bat like monster. Semi transparent webbing seemed to attach the arms to its side.

Corey was glad he had smashed its head and caved in its brains to a bloody mess. He was also glad that it was face down. Its back was horrible enough that his whole body shivered and his stomach – so full of snacks and food, nearly flipped completely. Even the smell was completely sickening.

As something else moved in the store, they realised how unprepared they really were.

No time for sanctuary, no time to supplies. With crowbar tight in hand they bailed from the store towards the car. Heart pounding and instincts working overtime. They were almost about to jump in when they noticed another creature snarling from their back-seat. Its elongated jaw stretched open to inhuman levels revealing rows upon rows of sharp razor teeth. It was like looking into the abyss – into the gates of hell itself. This bloody little writhing tongue waiting to welcome each into the domain of its stomach.

It was the worst Horror movie Corey had ever seen. And he was, for lack of better words, dead centre front row. They turned tails and ran like all hell into the night. Shep growling protectively at his heels and keeping by her companions side through the mad blind dash.

They didn’t stop running until they managed to find Summerside. A retirement home, a place people went to die alone in their own little world. It was still far better then the things hunting him in the dark.

His heart pounded so hard that his chest heaved and stung. And the only time when he allowed himself to try and slow it down was after he checked the apartment and barricaded the door.

Only then did he realise he’d also soaked his pants. Humiliated, terrified, alone. The only one he could trust was a two headed mutant dog who whined and rested her heads against his side. Four eyes staring at him trying to ease and calm him.

It’s okay,” they almost said. “We were scared too.”

Knees shaky, he collapsed onto the couch. He would shower later; when he was convinced death was not creeping up behind him slowly. Until then all he would do was wait and clutch the crowbar. It had proved its usefulness. Without it, both he and Shep would be dead.

Joan.” he mumbled frantically. It was a mouthy stubborn red head who was his first girlfriend. Most called her a bitch, but for him he always loved her, even when she left him and moved back with her family to England, part of him would never forget her. He stroked the crowbar. Its name was Joan. And it, along with him and Shep, were covered in the blood of their first kill.

It wasn’t human…” he reminded himself quietly, his hand stroking down the metal of Joan into the sticky matted blood and hair. “It wasn’t a person.”

As much as he kept telling himself that his mind wouldn’t let go of the anger and malice. The way the crowbar slammed down, again and again. The way it’s inhuman form smashed and writhed on the floor. The sound of Shep struggling to hold it while he beat it into final submission.

And then, strangely he grew quiet. He felt somehow hollow inside, colder. The silver eyes of Shep drilled into him and seemed to be thinking the same thing somehow. Perhaps something inside his brain finally cracked.

Kill or be killed. Joan’s almost bitchy voice rang into his ears. Kill or be killed.