Blood of the Forsaken

by David Horrocks

  Tommy and Aaron had already discovered the body of the man that the skin had once belonged to, or what little was left of him, hidden away within a supposedly abandoned cabin out in the middle of nowhere. They had been following reports of people going missing along a particularly rough stretch of dirt road, and after several days of hunting through the swamp, they had stumbled upon the creature’s lair.

  The building's interior was swarming with flies and the overpowering stench of rot was unbearable. It wasn't long before the pair had found the source of the smell, left out in the open within the dusty living room. Partially digested body parts were strewn around the place, with a sticky mucus that covered the walls and floor. There amongst the mass of limbs, organs and sinew lay the perfect specimen of a corpse, devoid of skin as it was preserved in a gelatinous substance.

  Aaron would never forget what he had seen in the cabin, the sight of the gore-filled room etched into his mind, nor the acidic smell of bile that had been burned into his nostrils. It was one of the worst things that he had ever witnessed in his life, or at least somewhere in the 'top five' according to Tommy. Even the taste of his own vomit couldn't purge the memory of what had happened to those poor people. Aaron's only hope was that the victims had died quickly and that they hadn't been eaten alive. Unfortunately the clues were pointing to that being the slow and agonising horror of the truth.

  Tommy was made of much sturdier stuff than Aaron and had a stronger constitution when it came to that kind of thing, his stomach seemingly lined with steel. He had dragged his friend outside, giving him room to breathe while formulating a plan to capture and kill the monster who had abducted those poor people. As sound as his ideas had been, building traps and selecting the right weapons for the job, they were based around the creature thinking and acting like a human being, and it was anything but human.

  The oozing, flesh creature shifted its weight, raising enlarged fists high into the air as it prepared to bring them crashing down upon Aaron’s head. Its arms stretched out unnaturally, pulling skin further than it was meant to go. The strain that the creature put on its suit placed it dangerously close to tearing open and spilling out the slimy contents inside. In some areas, the flesh itself was stretched so thin that the green ooze was now visible through it, flowing just beneath the surface like a river rife with disease.

  Aaron tried his best to scramble out of the way, but the thick muck wasn't letting him off easy and it had left him in a vulnerable position. He struggled to stand up in the mud, mere seconds away from being crushed by the creature’s immense strength. The sheer power it possessed was something that he had already experienced, as he had been tossed across the clearing like a rag doll just a few moments before. This wasn't quite how Aaron had pictured going out, but he wouldn't give it the satisfaction of hearing him scream before he died. He had accepted death as an integral part of his life a long time ago, and that acceptance had helped him to overcome his own fear of dying.

  This day wasn't destined to be the final one of Aaron’s life, however. Not if Tommy had anything to say about it. The tip of a blade slid out from between the monster’s weeping eyes, the other end of the weapon brandished by a determined looking partner that Aaron was proud to call his friend. Trust was important in their line of work, and they were both fortunate enough to have someone that they trusted, watching their backs without fail. A lone hunter would die alone, yet a close knit team like theirs could live to fight another day.

  “Knife to meet you, ya big ugly fuck!” Tommy’s wit was as sharp as his blade. He had succeeded at distracting the creature long enough for Aaron to recover. “Get up, dude! This party ain’t over!”

  The thing began to whip its arms around defensively as it made an awful gurgling sound, giving Aaron just enough time to roll to his feet and reach for his own machete that had been dropped in the mud.

  As soon as he saw that his friend was free, Tommy yanked the hilt of his weapon backwards, pulling out with it a mess of sludge and slime that clinged to the edge of his blade. “Oh, come on! You got shit all over Bethany, asshole!” Yes, Tommy was the sort of guy who named pretty much everything. The truck, his knife and even his favourite shotgun all had pet names. Female names of course.

  Re-entering the fray, Aaron brought down his machete on the creature’s shoulder in a swift hacking motion. The cold steel sliced through the skin suit with ease, with the soft interior offering little to no resistance. Removing it on the other hand was another matter entirely, as the green ooze seemed to try and ingest the hard edge of the blade, making it difficult to pull free. The more he tried to pull at the handle, the harder the task became, until he gave up and decided to abandon his weapon altogether, narrowly avoiding a vicious backhand from the creature who was becoming increasingly riled up. The arms of the suit flailed around wildly, the gurgling sounds replaced with that of a low bellow that reverberated throughout the swamp, sending flocks of birds scattering in all directions.

  Witnessing his partner's misfortune, Tommy quickly changed tactics, swapping his deep cuts and thrusts for shallow slices and jabs that were designed to inflict less damage, but still keep their quarry on its toes. It seemed to be working, as stretched limbs struck out in every direction. Both hunters dodged, sidestepped and jumped with practiced timing, trying their best to avoid being knocked senseless. The blows were inaccurate, but the power behind was them undeniable. Branches were broken and splintered, with a rock getting dislodged from the mud and sent hurtling towards the wooden walls of the cabin where it left a similarly sized hole.

  Aaron knew that they could keep up that same dance of death for a while, but he had the feeling that whatever this thing was it could likely go for longer. If they were lucky, they could maybe tire it out and then Tommy could deliver the killing blow, but luck hadn't been on their side that much in the past however many weeks. Besides, the creature was a glutton for punishment and all their knives seemed to do was anger it further, only harming the suit of flesh that it wore. Nothing they had done within the last ten minutes or so had managed to physically harm whatever lay beneath.

  Wracking his brain as he tried his best to think outside the box, Aaron came to realise that their traditional armaments were useless in this situation. Fortunately for them, he had an idea. “Tommy, give me your lighter!”

  Tommy ducked under another deadly swing, shooting Aaron a look of confusion. “Seriously? Now’s not the time to start taking up my bad habits, man!”

  Aaron rolled his eyes, rummaging around in his jean pockets, past his wallet and phone. He had to stop what he was doing a moment to hop out of the way of another savage strike. “I need you to shut up and trust me!”

  Still hacking away with his slime covered blade, Tommy slid a small silver object out of his back pocket and tossed it over. It sailed through the air, just past the sagging head of the enraged creature, with Aaron only just managing to catch it. Now it was time for him to put his new plan into action.

  Ever since they had arrived in Florida, Aaron had been sweating profusely due to the humidity. To counter the potential stench caused by his perspiration, and to prevent the smell from scaring off the much wanted attention of women, he had purchased a travel sized deodorant spray from an overpriced convenience store. Since then he had been spraying it at regular intervals to try and keep himself smelling fresh. There was only three quarters of the can left now, but he hoped that it would be enough to do the trick.

  With a flick of his wrist, Aaron opened up the lighter’s lid and proceeded to use the flint inside to spark up a flame. With his other hand, he managed to locate the small canister at the base of his pocket, fishing it out with two fingers. He popped the cap off with his thumb and let it fall to the floor as he moved the spray nozzle up behind the lighter, aiming both in the direction of his target. A split second later and the space between them was lit up by a scolding cone of burning chemicals, the air around it rippling from the heat.

  Tommy dropped to the gro
und to avoid the jet of flames, whereas the lumbering creature had been too distracted by trying to whip its arms at them to move out of the way. It squealed horrendously as its suit was engulfed in fire, the oozing substance inside beginning to bubble out through the openings. It was starting to boil, growing in mass until it caused the singed flesh to expand like a balloon.

  The thing was barely holding together as Aaron continued to exhaust the entire contents of his can, refusing to stop right up until it ran out of fuel and the flame died with a splutter. He thought that would be the end of it, but the creature continued to grow, stretching skin until it was no longer recognisable. It was just a thin membrane holding back the insurmountable pressure that was building inside.

  “It’s gonna blow!” Yelled Tommy, burying his head in the dirt as he sheltered it under his arms.

  Aaron was about to drop to the deck and follow suit, but he didn’t have enough time to move before the skin-suit exploded with an earth shattering bang. The shockwave of hot slime catapulted him backwards again as the creature detonated with unbridled force, his body landing back in the mud that he had only just managed to escape.

  Almost sure that his ear drums had blown, Aaron could hear only the ringing sound of a tone he would likely never be able to hear again. The wind had been knocked out of him and he knew that it would take a minute or two to recover. The damp, murky stench of the swamp had been replaced with the potent smell of melting flesh and burnt hair, and he could feel that he was covered from head to toe in what was left of the creature. He didn’t want to think about the debris of mucus and thick slime that had painted him green, nor the wretched scent that came with it.

  The sky was a bright blue, with the bare branches of dead trees swaying somewhere above Aaron’s head. He sighed loudly, managing to recover his breath with a cough to clear his throat. The sight before him was somewhat peaceful despite what they had just been through, and it helped him to clear his mind if only for a second. Finally able to gather enough strength to right himself, he raised his head to look around at the aftermath. Aaron could see a small crater where their quarry had once stood, with vivid shades of green and brown splattered outwards in all directions. The monster was definitely dead, but his concern grew for his friend who was still lying there just shy of the other side of the hole, face down in the mud.

  Aaron’s voice was crackly and surprisingly loud inside his own head as his ears struggled to recover. “Tommy? Are you dead?”

  There was an uncomfortably long silence that followed, the ringing in Aaron’s ears eventually beginning to subside. From where he sat resting back on his elbows, he couldn't see if Tommy was even breathing. Any sense of victory had been trumped by an overwhelming sense of worry. The loss of any friend was bad enough, but these two were inseparable.

  A grunt, followed by a pained groan let Aaron know that Tommy was still alive after all. His voice was muffled as he spoke down towards the ground. “Yeah. A little more heads up next time, ya fuckin’ pyro…” Aaron felt instant guilt for almost killing his friend, but true to form, Tommy raised his head to display the largest grin spreading from cheek to cheek. “Fire’s supposed to be my thing, d-bag!” He began to laugh, cackling as he rolled onto his back and proceeded to make a mud angel.

  The laughing was contagious, as Aaron, weary from the fight, couldn't help but join in. A good few minutes passed as they rolled around, slinging muck and other unidentifiable objects at each other. It was a disgusting kind of fun, but they were already completely filthy, and it was good to blow off a little steam.

  **********

  It had been far too long since Aaron and Tommy had taken a break from work. They still struggled to find leads on Samuel Mitchell, having lost him somewhere just north of Miami. It had become necessary for them to take on the odd job to get by, working low end jobs for cash under the table during daylight hours. It wasn’t meant to be fun or uplifting, but they had to have some source of income to keep going. At night they conducted their investigations, carried out research and followed an endless amount of leads that often took them nowhere. It was extremely frustrating, but neither of them were ready to give up the hunt. They had dedicated their lives to a cause and were determined to see it through to the bitter end. That end being their retirement, or more likely their untimely deaths.

  Some leads had helped the two of them locate and take out other dangers like the monster in the swamps. Sure, they technically didn't save anyone this time, but their work meant that others wouldn't fall prey to such a fiend. It was more of a preventative task than anything. Monsters needed food too, and they fed on people more often than not. Cities and their outlying areas were hives of activity for the supernatural world, like a watering hole that they needed to sustain them. Where there were humans, monsters were sure to be nearby, lurking in the shadows as they waited for an opportunity to strike.

  There were other hunters like Aaron and Tommy that the duo would run into them from time to time, however every hunter had their own methods and some of them were questionable at best. Not everyone would get along, and such meetings could sometimes lead to violent scuffles between those who should be working towards a common goal, not fighting between themselves. Everyone had their reasons for leading the life, some were similar, yet no two were ever exactly the same. The pair had more than their fair share of run ins with psychopaths that claimed to be hunting for the greater good, but they just turned out to be sadistic madmen looking to cause some pain. Collateral damage was just a statistic to those kinds of people and they didn't care who got hurt as long as they achieved their own personal goals. Civilians were just a means to an end and their well being was of little consequence.

  Not everyone was bad though, and there was such a thing as pleasant hunters too. Kind souls who had lost someone close to them, or had witnessed something and refused to just stand aside and let it continue. Aaron was proud to call many of those people friends, and his phone was full of numbers that he had collected over the last decade or so. They were loyal people that he could call for help if they ever needed some backup. Tommy had his own share of contacts too, some of which happened to live in Florida. He had asked them to keep an eye out for any signs of Sam Mitchell and report on anything that they found. Tommy trusted those men and women almost as much as he trusted Aaron, and he could rely on them to call with updates should they see or hear anything. The bonds of like minded hunters were very strong indeed.

  Aaron and Tommy’s goofing around in the swamp had ended a little while ago, the friends now lying in the mud as they stared up at the clouds, taking advantage of some rare free time to relax. They had already grown to accept the rancid smell of their own clothing as part of their current state, but it was nothing a long shower and a ceremonious burning of said clothes wouldn't fix.

  The now placid swamp was disrupted by an electronic ringing that originated from Tommy’s jeans. Aaron was surprised to hear that the phone even worked after what they had been through, his own having succumbed to the ravages of swamp water.

  Tommy was surprisingly quick to answer. “What you got?” As he listened, Aaron hoped that the call was finally the lead they were looking for and not another saying that they had been fired from another job. “Legit? Alright, I'll tell him.” It seemed that his prayers had been answered. “Later, Murphy.”

  Aaron waited until Tommy had hung up before he jumped in on the conversation, his curiosity reaching its climax. “Okay, spill. Do we finally have a solid lead?”

  Sitting up straight, Tommy flipped his phone shut and used his forearm to wipe slop from his brow. He was almost glowing with pride, which only served to increase Aaron’s level of anticipation. “Hell yeah! I told you my buddies would find somethin’ first. Looks like we’re headin’ downtown.”

  Aaron sat himself up too, his spirits uplifted by the positive news. “Finally. I want to finish this and then go somewhere much, much colder.”

  Tommy chuckled, sliding the dirt caked phone
back into a similarly messy pocket. “You and me both, man! Let's get the fuck outta this swamphole!”

  Chapter Ten: The hand that feeds.

  Sam couldn't remember why he had agreed to be an accomplice in a robbery, let alone the getaway driver, but something about Entropy made him want to please her in any way that he could. She had tried to protest against involving him at first, but Jacko claimed that Sam owed them for the group taking him in and she reluctantly agreed after a heated discussion. So there Sam was with the engine still running, the wheelman in some sort of heist, waiting in a side street by whatever unposted building the group had decided to rob.

  The others had been inside for almost ten minutes now, but it seemed like it had been a great deal longer. Sam had been checking the clock the whole time as he peered around nervously for police cars or cops on the beat. He looked immensely suspicious, dressed in black with a hat pulled down low to cover his face and he almost couldn't bear the anxiety that it caused. There was no reason for him to be idling there, other than to cause trouble or just generally being up to no good.

  The car that had been provided was a generic sedan, with four doors and nothing much inside other than the old radio that Sam hadn't even checked to see if it still worked. Beaded chair covers made his back feel uncomfortable, not that he could have made himself all that cozy, with muscles so tense that they felt like they might just pop at any second. As time went on he began to feel as though he was being set up, but for what reason he didn't know. The thought had occurred to him that he could just drive away, leave town and never return, but he couldn't do that to Entropy. He never wanted to leave her and hated the fact that she had gone inside without him.