“I don’t mean to be rude,” Rose said, “but what are you doing here? Who are you exactly?”
Weston looked back at me and then at Rose. “I’m just someone who’s trying to help a family in need. I knew this is where the…storm…would hit land and I knew there was a house here. I was hoping it wouldn’t be occupied when I got here, but unfortunately, you’re in this now.”
“In what?!” Rose asked, clearly getting upset.
Before he could answer, something from outside silenced us all.
From the west, echoing across the churning water and infectious clouds, something ROARED. It was deafening, the noise shaking the foundation of the house. The lights flickered as we all slammed our hands over our ears, our terrified, bewildered eyes meeting one another. Sean screamed and wrapped himself around Rose’s legs, burying his face against her.
The blast faded, the deep rumble retreating back into the frothing storm.
We all took a moment to recover, searching each other’s faces for signs of comfort.
Except for Weston. He was staring out into the darkness, his face carved from cold stone but white as fresh snow.
“W-what the hell was that?” I finally whispered, blinking rapidly.
Weston didn’t reply for a moment; he just continued to stare out into the night. Finally, after giving himself a little shake, he turned to address me. “We need to get you all downstairs right now.”
“Dillon, what’s going on?” Rose cried, panic in her eyes. “What was that?”
Weston placed a hand on her shoulder. “He doesn’t have the answers; now let’s go downstairs please.”
I let him usher us toward the stairs and as we descended, my mind pulsed and reeled with disbelief at what was happening. Everything was moving so fast. Where had this storm come from? What did the strange light mean? What had made that noise?
Weston seemed to know what was going on but didn’t seem too eager to share. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know. The most important thing right now was to keep my family safe, and Weston seemed to be of the same mindset. I didn’t know who he was or where he had come from, but in that moment, I was grateful for his presence. He seemed to be in control of himself, seemed to know what we needed to do. I didn’t know how he could help us, but I felt slightly more calm with him around.
Thunder boomed and the wind continued to howl against the house as we made it to the basement. We entered the den area, populated by a large sectional couch and a massive plasma TV. The ground level, the one we were currently on, wasn’t underground, but I felt a little safer just the same. There was a sliding glass door that looked out on the ocean, but the view was obscured by a pair of drawn blinds.
Weston went to the door and peeked out, his watchful eyes scanning the darkness, waiting for a flash of lightning so he could see the beach.
“What are we supposed to do?” I asked, feeling helpless.
Rose had picked up Sean and was holding him tight, looking frightened. I went to them both and wrapped my arms around them, waiting for Weston to instruct us.
Not moving, he answered from his post at the door. “Just sit tight for now. It’s getting closer. Won’t be long now.”
I felt sick, my stomach rolling in on itself as questions rose in my throat like bubbling water, but I swallowed them back down and waited. It wouldn’t do any good to start saying things that would scare Rose and Sean.
I sat my wife and son down on the couch and kissed Rose on the head. I walked to Weston and dropped my voice to a soft whisper.
“Weston, listen, I need you to be straight with me. With whatever is out there…with whatever is coming…are…a-are we going to make it through this?”
Weston glanced at me and I saw fear in his eyes. “I hope so. We just need to wait.”
“What are you waiting for?” I asked, shooting a look over my shoulder. Sean was quiet and curled up on my wife’s lap, his eyes closed as Rose stroked his hair.
Weston pulled the blinds apart a little wider. “For it to make landfall.”
I peeked outside and saw the towering column of darkness was fast approaching. It rose out of the ocean like a tightly coiled snake, thick and squirming with inky black energy. Its enormous mass reached for the stormy skies and tangled with the clouds, rising and getting lost in the night. The red and yellow lights continued to pulse and throb as pockets of neon smog burst along the coal-black pillar.
I turned away and sat with my family, leaving Weston to keep watch. I didn’t know what I was looking for anyway. The air was filled with an ominous dread, a heavy blanket of hot fear. I let my wife lean into me, her head resting on my shoulder.
“I’m scared,” she whispered.
“So am I.”
I placed a hand on Sean’s arm, letting him know that his dad was with him. We sat like that for a while, waiting, listening to the clash of thunder and rain outside. The walls shuddered as the wind came screaming off the ocean, the gale gaining intensity.
I watched Weston. He didn’t move from his spot, his face a pale picture of grim uncertainty. His eyes remained locked to the outside, silent and waiting like the rest of us. My heart was tripping over itself in my chest, a clumsy drumbeat of nervous anxiety.
Suddenly, Weston slapped an open palm against the wall and leaned into the glass door, straining to see between the blinds. From my spot on the couch, I saw his eyes were wide and bloodshot.
“What is it?” I asked.
He didn’t move and answered in a hard whisper, “It’s here.”
Suddenly, the night erupted as another deafening roar shook the house. It was deep and powerful, a long, howling cry of violent anger that shattered the air with splintering intensity.
Sean cried out and buried his face in my wife’s lap. I clutched them both, my breath coming in short gasps, until the roaring howl passed and echoed around the house. Fear filled every ounce of me, and I had to fight not to join my son in a cry of terror.
Whatever was out there sounded massive and furious.
Weston took a couple steps back from the door, clearly shaken. He looked to us on the couch and then back out into the darkness. He was breathing heavily and he visibly fought to get himself under control.
“What is it!?” I hissed, urgency lacing my voice.
He swallowed hard. “It’s emerging from the storm.”
No sooner had he spoken then I felt slight tremors run through the earth. They were spaced apart and just intense enough to feel a physical registration. It felt like…footsteps. Like something colossal was walking toward us from the storm.
“Weston!” I cried, unable to hold in my fear any longer. “What do we do!? What is coming!?”
Rose was shaking against me, the terror infecting her. She held Sean close to her and whispered soothing words of reassurance into his ear as he continued to cry.
“Weston!” I pleaded.
Instead of answering, Weston stood in front of the door and visibly calmed himself. He closed his eyes and took a few slow, deep breaths.
Then he took off his leather jacket and tossed it to the floor. Without stopping, he peeled off his white T-shirt and flung it aside.
I blinked as I took in this strange display. His body was a mass of coiled muscle, thick and powerful, his toned flesh rippling with years of conditioning. His blond hair fell across his bulging shoulders as he closed his eyes and stepped toward the door.
“Weston!” I cried. “W-what are you doing!?”
He paused, one hand on the door. He turned to look at me and I saw burning violence in his electric blue eyes.
His voice grated in his throat like a blazing furnace. “I’m going to go kill that thing.”
Without waiting for a response, he pulled open the sliding door. The wind and rain came barreling in, a sudden cold energy exploding from the night. Weston didn’t even seem to notice as he stepped out into the darkness, pulling the door close behind him.
And then we were alone.
My wife and I looked
at each other, my own shock and disbelief mirrored on her face. I felt like I should say something, but my throat clogged with fear and doubt. The tremors underfoot were gaining intensity and I felt my stomach bubble with despair.
As the minutes ticked by, I kept waiting for Weston to come back inside, but the door remained firmly shut. Thunder slammed against our ears and the torrential downpour added to the night’s brutality.
It felt like the violence outside was building toward something.
I stood, unable to remain still any longer, and went to the door. I pulled the blinds apart and cupped my face to the glass.
I waited for lightning to illuminate the night and when it finally did, what I saw took my breath away.
Weston was standing motionless on the beach, facing the ocean. The wind and rain beat against his bare chest, but he remained an iron pillar in the storm, a mountain of grim determination. His hands were balled into fists, his rain-soaked hair dancing in the gale.
Something titanic in size loomed before him, drawing closer with each earth-quaking step as red and yellow light flashed around it.
I turned away from the scene and felt sick, a deep horrified nausea eating away at my insides. I looked at Rose, feeling sweat trickle down my spine. What was going on? What was that thing?!
I flinched as a new noise cut through the night. It sounded like a cannon blast, the deep boom coming from the beach. As soon as the noise cracked the air, the windows flared with bright red light, a blinding blaze.
Another roar, this time sounding different. It sounded like a cry of pain. The light fixtures shook as the crimson light faded, overtaken once again by stormy darkness. The ground shook as another blast jolted the earth, the cannon-like explosion causing my ears to ring.
“What is going on out there!?” Rose cried, pulling her feet up onto the couch and wrapping herself around Sean.
Trembling, I turned to look outside as the sky flared in a blinding glow of red. I covered my eyes and steadied myself against the wall as the ground shook, the cannon-blast explosions growing more and more frequent.
And there was a new sound.
Behind the roar of the immense entity, my ears picked up the distinct sound of heavy gears grinding together. The two twisted and mixed together, the animalistic howling followed by the chug of working machinery. A moment later it sounded like gears shifting, which flowed seamlessly into the deafening howl of a biological being.
I pulled the blinds apart and stared out at the beach, knees weak.
I couldn’t see much, the rain-streaked glass obscuring any clarity. Red and yellow lights pulsed along the beach, rising impossibly high into the night sky. Lightning flashed across the dark canopy and I caught a glimpse of… of impossibility.
Weston was rocketing up from the ground toward the colossal monster like a missile, a pale smudge against a black canvas. I watched in absolute amazement as he made contact with the creature, powering his fist into it with all his might.
I jumped as the familiar boom! followed, the sound of his knuckles cracking into the flashing black mass. Following the blow, the sky broke out in blinding crimson and I turned away from the scene, mouth agape.
Weston was fighting the monster.
I slumped down and leaned against the wall, trying to catch my breath. A barrage of cannon-blast explosions shook the foundation of the house and I shut my eyes against the vibrations. The thing outside bellowed in pain and fury, the bizarre howl seamlessly interlocked with the panting of a gigantic machine.
I don’t know how long I sat there listening to the battle.
The windows pulsated with color, the storm screamed around us, and the deafening cries from outside engulfed my senses. I kept my eyes shut, silent prayer pouring from my mouth. The house shook and swayed, the groan of wood against wind and water.
The night bled with violence, the never-ending blasts ringing in my ears and rattling my teeth. My head ached with it, my bones shook with it.
I listened to the storm inside the storm, the clash of inhuman power that overshadowed reality. Something dark and evil had entered our plane of existence, something had slithered through the cracks of space and time and found our world. Something had emerged from the great mystery of the unknown and had arrived with a devastating anger.
This isn’t happening, my mind pleaded, this can’t be real.
Suddenly, the sliding glass door erupted in an explosion of brutality as something was flung through it at a terrifying speed.
Weston smashed into the far wall, a mass of blood and muscle, partially caving it in. His head whipped back in agony as he made contact, his body crushing through the sheetrock.
Rose and Sean screamed, covering themselves as the glass and plaster rained down around us. The wind screamed through the broken door, bringing with it a torrent of stinging rain.
I jumped to my feet, heart thundering, assessing Weston’s condition as he slowly pulled himself from the wall. He gritted his teeth as blood leaked from his mouth, his face a twisted, bloody mess of pain. His chest was cut, blood dripping onto the carpet in thick wet drops. His hair was a tangled mess of soaking clumps plastered to his face.
He got to his feet and wiped the blood from his chin. He looked at me and I felt my blood run cold.
To this day, I have never seen eyes sparkle with such violence and fury. I took a step back as he flexed his shoulders. He pulled his hair back from his face, his knuckles swollen and split, blood running down his fingers.
“I can’t kill it like this,” he growled, looking at me. “I hurt it bad, but this won’t kill it.”
My legs were shaking and I fought to calm my panic. “Weston, what is it? Why is this happening?”
He sucked in long lungfuls of air. “It’s The Red West. It was never supposed to make it this far. I didn’t think it could. But somehow it made it onto this plane of existence, it broke through the walls of possibility.”
“Where did it come from?” I asked, voice shaking. I wrapped my arms around myself, the wind blasting through the shattered door.
Weston met my eyes. “Home. It came from home.”
“But where is that? How is any of this possible?” I cried, my mind straining to make sense of this impossibility.
Weston put a hand on my shoulder, his voice ragged. “The Red West is a horrible phenomenon that occurs where I come from. We’ve only had it occur two other times in the vast stretch of our existence. But it’s supposed to be isolated to our reality. It shouldn’t have been able to come here. I’ve been following it for a long time, watching it develop and grow. But then it began to move. That’s why I had to come here, that’s why I have to stop it. This is our problem, not yours. Your world shouldn’t have to suffer from the horrors in ours.”
As his words washed over me, a vociferous roar of raw rage blasted from the night.
It was waiting for Weston.
I looked up at the big man, looked at his bruised and bloody body, and said the only words that I could.
“Please…save us.”
Weston looked at my wife and son, who were curled up on the couch crying. He looked at me. His eyes melted into soft puddles of blue warmth.
“That’s why I came,” he said. “There’s only one more thing for me to do now. For me to end this.”
He gripped my arm. “Take care of yourself. Watch over your family. I hope to meet you again one day.”
And with that, he released me and I saw his body begin to pulse with a dark energy. His skin began to radiate a deep red color and as I took in his sudden change, Weston charged back out into the storm.
I stepped into the shattered door frame and looked out into the night.
I’ll never forget what I saw.
Weston’s feet churned the sand, his body glowing with a brilliant bright energy. He was screaming, running at full speed, fists clenched at his sides. The towering mass of black and red loomed before him, blinking its strange neon colors. It stepped toward him, howling wi
th ferocious anger as his opponent rushed to meet him.
Lightning lit the sky, the thick white veins illuminating the battlefield. Thunder crashed overhead as the two foes met at the water’s edge.
Weston crouched at a full run and then rocketed from the ground, leaving the earth with such force that a shock wave sprayed sand and earth into the sky. He was a blazing red comet, a crimson bullet that soared toward the heavens, toward the head of the titanic entity.
I could hear him screaming with vengeful determination as he made contact with the tremendous mass of darkness.
The sky exploded with color, a cloud of red mushrooming out from the impact followed by a shock wave that was so powerful it knocked me off my feet and sent me tumbling into the far wall. Sand and earth exploded into the house from the broken door, showering us with wet clumps.
My ears rang as reality ripped, a screeching flash of pulsing colors, the sky twisting in on itself. A sound deafened my ears, a great screeching groan that rippled through the night and crashed down around us.
A moment later, everything went silent and I lost consciousness.
Darkness welcomed me…
Darkness…
Dark…
* * *
How do you make sense of impossibility? How do you settle your mind after witnessing such devastating horror?
I haven’t seen Weston in four years. I probably won’t ever seen him again. My family and I still haven’t recovered from the terror of that night.
After the blast, I…don’t remember much. When I woke up the sun was rising. Rose and Sean were lying on the floor and when I saw them I thought they were dead. I crawled over to them and shook them awake, breathing a sigh of relief as they opened their eyes. I remember tears were running down my cheeks.
We were covered in sand and dirt and I took us outside to breathe the clean air.
The beach was…gone. The earth looked like God had struck it with an almighty hammer. It was…terrifying to behold.
Weston was nowhere to be seen. Both him and the entity were gone.
The sun was just creeping up the horizon and the beauty of it brought me to my knees. I couldn’t believe I was alive to see it. My family joined me and we all wept, so completely shaken by the night’s events that we couldn’t do anything but cry. We clung to each other, feeling the wind rush through our dirty hair and across our exhausted bodies.
The Worst Kind of Monsters Page 15