I gave the signal to the others and waited till they fell in line. Just as I was about to move ahead, the lights flickered wildly. I stopped mid-stride and stared overhead. The fluorescent tubes pulsed and hummed ominously until their brightness grew in intensity, then all popped in unison, letting darkness fall.
Narrow beams of sunlight shone through the door’s tiny windows on the right side of the hall. It’d be almost pitch-black if not for one classroom on the far end of the hall, whose door was wide open, forming a solid pool of the morning sun on the vinyl tiles.
I stood still, waiting. Another wave of primal fear crept on me like the legs of a spider sneaking up my arm. However, I couldn’t quite place what was causing this pit of angst in my stomach. My ears and eyes strained as I kept looking from one end of the hall to the other, seeing and hearing nothing.
“What the hell was up with that?” I asked Harold as he came to a stop.
“I don’t know.” I couldn’t see his farcical features at all, I just had a loose silhouette of his figure, but I could tell from the tone of his voice that he was upset. Traces of anger and fear playing with his cadence.
The darkness and silence made the halls all the more eerie. A haunted house where a family of four was brutally murdered would feel less oppressive.
I wiped my clammy hands on my jeans and fought for the clarity. “Let’s keep moving. Is everyone accounted for?”
“Yeah, we kept a tight line, everyone…” he halted as he looked behind. Harold straightened himself and took a few hesitant steps forward.
“Harold, what are you—”
“Who’s that?” he sharply cut off, pointing behind us.
I didn’t see anything at first, but I was able to make out another silhouette of a figure. At first sight, a cold dread rolled through my body.
My eyes adjusted slightly to the darkness, the dread not as strong. It was difficult to see, but whoever we were looking at wasn’t one of the monsters. The proportions looked normal and the figured was too still, a stark contrast to the jittery, violent motions of the nightmare creatures.
“Harold,” I said in a whisper, “I think it’s another survivor.”
“I’m not so sure. If it is, why hasn't he called out to us?”
“Maybe they're scared.
Harold contemplated my reasoning, and then called out in a hushed tone, “Hey, we’re not dangerous. We might’ve found a way to escape.”
There was no response. The figure stood still, as if he may not have heard Harold, but he began to approach our group with slow, methodical steps. The figure walked down the very center of the hallway. Once in front of the open classroom door, his figure was partially illuminated. The sight caused the hair to stand on my neck and arms.
It was only a glimpse in the sunlight, but I saw a dagger held out by the figure's side.
I was about whisper to Harold when Michael began shrieking. The two I appointed to keep him in line tried desperately to silence him, but Michael was flailing violently in their grasp. He struck one in the side of the head with a wild blow, sending him to the ground, and then he whacked his head into the nose of the other. The other students backed away from the violent exchange and just watched Michael making incoherent guttural noises. Michael held the disoriented boy he head butted by his collar, then threw him in the path of the approaching figure.
“You won’t! You won’t get me!” he cried madly, then turn tail to sprint down the hall.
I watched as he rounded the corner, considering going after him to knock some sense into him, but I returned my attention to the mysterious figure.
The figure stopped in front of the collapsed boy and knelt next to him. I almost thought that he was going to help him to his feet, but then I saw him raise the dagger.
“No!” I shouted, stepping forward. It was too late. The knife plunged into the boy’s chest and his dying cry echoed in the barren halls. Someone was just murdered during what may be the end of times. What the actual fuck was going on?
The madness didn’t end there. The figure said something in a mess of words that sounded so wrong in my ears, and then a faint green light emanated from his dagger, illuminating the pool of blood collecting around the boy’s body. The light swirled from the dagger and pooled into the orifices of the corpse. The figure rose from the body and took a step back and watched as it began to convulsive violently. Gurglingly sounds rose from the body’s throat, then the sounds twisted and grew until they started to sound like hoarse roars.
Dizziness took me as the corpse began to reanimate and roar with ever rising volume; its body twisting and cracking as muscles swelled and the arms grew in length. The flesh churned and rippled, losing its pink tone and fading into a sickly gray.
The mystery of the absent bodies suddenly became very clear.
“Run,” I said so faintly that it sounded like a whisper. “Run,” I repeated, a little louder this time, approaching Caroline and taking her by the hand. “Run!” I shouted. It was as if there was a disconnect; my body dulled by fear while my brain was screaming for action.
We all sprinted down the hall, abandoning the original plan and just hoping for the best. We entered G-building and a roar followed as we put more and more distance between us and the mysterious figure. I heard something else with the roar, some sort of tone, almost like white noise.
I think I might actually be having a stroke. It’s hard to tell if I smell burnt toast because everything was fucking burning. No. That’s a heart attack. Damn it, why am I such an idiot when I panic?
We rushed around the last corner, the doors to the library halfway down the hall. Unfortunately, two more of those monsters were lurking at the opposite end. Their ghastly eyes locked on us and they began hulking over. I frantically looked everywhere for something that could help us. My eyes settled on a fire extinguisher.
The glass shattered under my elbow, then I fetched the timer from my backpack.
“Harold,” I said as I began pulling off my belt, “Take everyone through the library, I’ll distract them.”
“What are you going to do?” he asked.
“Something.” I set the timer for fifteen seconds and fastened it to the fire extinguisher with my belt.
“Al,” Caroline called out, clutching my forearm.
“I’ll catch up,” I replied with a smile. I cupped her cheek. “Everything will be okay, I promise.” I looked to Harold. “Please, GO!” I shouted, sprinting out of Caroline’s grip.
When I broke off into the sprint, the monsters increased their slow gait into a fast walk. I waited until I was a good distance past the library door, where the others were filling through, before I hurled the fire extinguisher towards the monsters. It clanked loudly as it struck the ground, and thankfully, they stopped and focused on the strange red thing near their feet. I turned heel and sprinted back towards the library entrance, and they roared after me. I counted down in my head, three, two, one, and the alarm went off.
They focused their attention on the shrill beeping. One of them did what I had hoped: smash it. A large cloud of white powder blinded the monsters and they made wailing sounds. I laughed, ecstatic that it actually worked.
Hope it stings, you bustards!
My moment was short lived when I saw the recently-turned monster rounding the corner with company, two more ghastly faces. I took it to third gear and closed the distance to the door, shoulder tackling my way in.
I arrested my tumble and sprang onto my feet, then ran down the nearest stacks perpendicular to the entrance. I ran five stacks deep, and then raced halfway down the aisle. I pressed my back into the shelves and planted my feet on the opposite side. With one deep breath, I pressed with all my might. The sharp edge of the shelf dug into my back while I pushed, the sheer strain threatening to tear my knees.
I gritted my teeth and fought the throbbing pain radiating from my core. Just when I was seeing colors from strain, the tension lifted and the stack started to lean. I turned, giving on
e final shove and watched as the stack left my fingertips. It smacked into the neighboring one, which then smacked into the third, and continued to fall like dominos. The last one fell and landed with a defining crash right in front of the entrance, blocking it completely. Each stack was about twelve-feet high and constructed from solid wood, each filled with several hundred pounds of literature. I doubted the monsters would be able to move it, even with their above average strength.
“Sorry, books,” I apologized as I raced away from my handiwork. The library was my favorite thing about Melchizedek University. It was one of the places where the university didn’t bother to modernize with the exception of the added computers. The wood shelves, floors, furniture, almost everything was orignal from 1892. A charming space that I loved to get absorbed in. Now that I had to run through the place, I hated the sheer size.
I raced out of the maze and into the solarium that overlooked a portion of the ground level of the library. I liked this particular spot to study because of the natural light, open space, and it featured some of the most interesting of pieces that were donated to the university over the years. Resting on podiums in glass enclosures were historic pieces like a bayonet from the civil war, cultural pieces like a handcrafted Native American doll from a tribe that doesn’t exist anymore, and the odd art piece. It was a tranquil space that felt right.
Now, it felt wrong, so horribly wrong, looking like a scene from a horrible nightmare.
A monster was mulling over the mangled remains of one of the girls in our group, and I saw another girl slowly bleeding out on the steps. And cowering in the corner were the others: Harold, Ryan, Helen, Mrs. Peterson, and Caroline.
The monster plunged its hand into the girl’s corpse, producing a sickening sloshing sound, and then retracted its gore covered claws. It rose and faced off against the cowering mass while blood from my classmates dripped from its claws.
I stood there, watching the monster creeping forward. The steps were close, so close. I could easily run downstairs, find the windows, chuck a chair or something, and I’d be home free. The only thing it would cost was the lives of everyone else. My body shook from the nervous strain, my stomach threatening to throw up my meager breakfast of a gas station sandwich and black coffee.
Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.
I swallowed bile and felt it settle into my tumbling stomach. My hands steadied as my resolve solidified. I grabbed the biggest hardcover from the nearest shelf and took a deep breath.
“Hey—Asshole!” I shouted, whipping the book at the monster. It flew true and struck it square it its back, hard. It stopped and turned to face me, devouring me with its empty gaze.
I fought back the cold shudder of its eyes and yelled, “Run!”
I grabbed another book from the shelf and chucked it at the monster’s face. It landed flat against its head, knocking it back. The lips over its narrow mouth receded and grizzly teeth greeted me. It lowered itself to the ground and let out a low growl, ready to pounce on its new prey.
Fuck me.
Chapter 4
The monster charged at me with bad intentions; claws outstretched and its maw a mile wide. I leapt from where I was standing and rolled away. As soon as I steadied myself, four black claws swiped inches from my face. I fell back in time and landed hard on my butt, but before it could continue its assault, I rolled under a table and bear-crawled to the other end. The thing dove under the table like a fox chasing a rabbit down a hollowed log.
I knocked one of the chairs on its back and kicked it under the table once I emerged, sliding the legs into the face of the monster, causing it growl and thrash about.
I spared a second to check on my peers and, thankfully, Harold took the chance I presented and was guiding the survivors down the stairs. Caroline’s eyes met mine while she rushed toward the stairs. Her face scrunched up in fear and guilt. I gave her a wan smile and held it for as long as I could, so she would understand that I’m doing this for them, for her.
If I didn’t do it, then no one would’ve.
I tore my gaze away from her and ran deeper into the grid of shelves before the monster weaseled out from under the table. I booked it down one aisle, the monster just around the corner. The space between the stacks were narrow—just big enough for one person to walk down with a little wiggle room on either side—so it was a tight squeeze for the corded body of the beast.
It clipped its shoulder on the corner as it chased, knocking some books loose, staggering as it lunged at me. I ran out into the other end of the aisle before it could reach, then went down another. A glance over my shoulder showed the monster scrambling, attempting another leap. I nearly slipped when I rounded another corner and made a mad break down the open aisle, the savage thing hot on my heels.
I couldn’t keep doing this.
If not for the stacks and zigzagging, I’d have been mince meat. The monster was surprisingly spry and any distance I manage to put between me and it only lasted for a few seconds.
Fatigue was mounting. Hot sweat drifted off my brow, stinging my eyes and filling my gasping mouth with a sour taste, and my knees ached from the sharp changes in direction. Even my backpack—no lighter than a few pounds—felt like a lead weight.
My sprint carried me all the way to the other side of the upstairs section, in a secluded studying area. Then my sneakers screamed as I skidded to a stop. My chest heaved as I turned around and noticed the eerie silence and the even more eerie absence of the monster. It was just a few paces behind me, nowhere to been seen now.
Had it gotten tired and went for the others? No. Predators don’t give up so easily. Perhaps it was the anxiety, but I felt the danger, tasted bloodlust lingering in the air.
My gaze darted left and right, taking in all the possible angles that monster could emerge from. Far left, far right, or straight down the aisle. Why did there have to be so many damn books?
With tentative steps, I walked backwards to get a better view of the angles. I jumped when my butt collided with the corner of a table, making the foolish choice to glance behind. There was a creak from above, followed by a growl.
Shit.
The monster pounced from the top of the stack and lunged at me with an outstretched claw. It was by mere chance that I avoided getting crushed from its aerial surprise attack, but it did manage to clip my right shoulder while I threw myself to the ground. It tumbled across a table and smashed into some chairs while I leapt up and put space between us.
A dull, hot pain radiated from my shoulder. Something ran down my arm and dripped from my elbow, blood no doubt, but I couldn’t check. Not with that thing hot on my heels again.
When I felt its pace matching mine, I did another sharp turn down the stack, and then another, and I found myself sprinting down the center aisle again, the sounds of the monster colliding with the shelves ever present while it continued chase, growling and hissing the entire time.
The solarium came into view at the end of the aisle, urging me to sprint faster. Just as I was about to clear the collection of shelves, a sudden shock threw me forward. I rolled a couple times before my back collided with a podium housing a vase, which promptly fell over and shattered into hundreds of tiny pieces. The monster caught up faster than I expected, but that was partly due to my building fatigue. Thankfully, my backpack protected my back from the swipe that took me off my feet.
The monster pounced where my body was, but I rolled away at the last second—my body brushing against it—and jumped to my feet again. It was too close, I was too tired. My heart hammered like a piston in the wake of what could very well be my own death. I stumbled backwards in a feeble attempt to put distance between us while my mind raced, processing everything around me, but that wouldn’t have done any good. The monster was only a few feet away and climbing to its full height and the stairs were out of reach. There were only tables, chairs, and loose books around; I had nothing.
It stared me down, baring its grotesque teeth on its lifeless face. Time slowe
d to a crawl when it started its stride. The corded muscles dancing under its charcoal flesh, all moving to the melody of death and destruction. I didn’t know what to do, what could I do? All cognitive thinking left my mind as my brain struggled to fathom my mortality, all while the walking nightmare placed one foot in front of the other, while I stumbled backwards towards the railing.
I’m going to die, aren’t I?
It stretched its arm, looking to lance me with a charge. I had to do something, anything. When time slowed, my vision bloomed, taking in all the fine details of the world around me. The faint wear on the table tops from years of studying and reading; the complementary color scheme on the stained accents on the windows behind the beast; the individual titles of books from the nearby shelves and ones left behind on tables.
Book?
Mortality driving my brain to overdrive, a decisio was reached in an attosecond.
It’s something, isn’t it?
I reached out and snatched the book just as I got tackled through the railing. It was almost magical. Falling like that, in slow motion. Even the unnatural face of the monster went to the edges of my awareness as I fell. The weightless sensation was a nice break.
Time resumed its regular pace and my air time ended with a loud crash and a flash of black and purple. We fell a good fifteen feet on top of another reading table that was just below the railing. My head rang and I saw the world through a tunnel. Thankfully, I was coherent enough to shift my head to the side before it got smashed like a watermelon.
Claws sank all the way through the wood, and it appeared to be stuck once the monster failed to pull its arm back. Instead of dawdling on it, it roared and tried snapping at me with its jaws. I reached out with arms and held it back by the neck, but as I shifted, a searing pain rippled from my abdomen.
The book I held out managed to catch its claws before they skewered me. However, the book didn't stop them completely. They penetrated hallway through the pages, leaving a couple inches of exposed claw in my gut. Two inches wasn’t much, but damn did it hurt. The jostling of the monster ripped wave after wave of agony. Its own body weight was keeping the arm pinned; had the book not been distributing the pressure, this thing would’ve scooped out my guts like a melon baller.
Heart of the Resonant: Book 1: Pulse (Resonant Series) Page 4