Monsters Beget Monsters

This is a revised tale from my Twilight Nightmares compilation. To read all 50 stories, click here!

The hot summer melted Harvey’s garage into a sticky sauna. A cup filled with a recipe he found on the dark web stood upon the table in front of him. Inside was a black liquid tinted purple with a thick yellowy head. He took a deep breath, clenched his teeth, and closed his eyes.

Nine weeks ago, a drunk ran down his wife and son. Alexis died immediately. Charlie, however, flew forty feet from the accident. In the hospital, the boy fought hard to survive occasionally waking long enough to ask where his mother was, but soon died. The final blow came when the judge freed the drunk with only probation and a fine. Apparently, growing up affluent didn’t afford him the necessary experience to make good choices. For this, the murderer walked.

Anger seethed from Harvey’s eyes, raining hot madness upon the surface below. He gripped the edge of the table and his thick veins slithered just below his skin. He didn’t know what would happen if he drank it, but he didn’t care. It would either kill him or help him get revenge. It was win-win.

He grabbed the glass, and some of it sloshed over, stinging his hand. He pressed the rim against his quivering lip, and finished it in three searing gulps.

He didn’t wait long before an acidic burn trailed up his esophagus. He retched, and then vomited the brew onto the table. He heaved until nothing but stringy bile hung from his lips.

Suddenly, the spot just below his ribs began to hurt. He looked down at his nude torso and watched a claw tear its way through his skin. As he fell to his knees, another ripped through the other side. He rolled over, screaming.

Black flaps shot from his shoulders spraying flecks of red against the floor. Bones snaked through them forming bloody wings, and the bone pierced through the ends resulting in sharp bat-like points. He climbed to his hands and knees, coughed, and watched his teeth blast out of his mouth and spin across the floor. Blood drained from his lips as he reached for his gums, and he found jagged fangs pushing through the soft tissue. He leaned back as the skin on his chest split and burned as if someone had doused him with fuel and lit him ablaze. The pain was so intense he scratched and clawed, ripping the skin away, which revealed a hard, scaly armor.

He uttered soft cries as he used the table to climb back to his feet. He lumbered to a mirror, legs shaking. He looked upon a monster. Inky-black wings. Pointed teeth. Sharp claws replaced his hands and he had two extra arms. He felt stronger, though, and when he ran his new claw along the scales, it didn’t pierce. However, he *hadn’t* changed because he was still the same bloodthirsty man that would make all of them pay. Every last mother fucker that wronged the world would pay.

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Dark Days II: Revelations (NSFW)

...dark days are ahead of us... (art by Gregg Hartley. Click image to visit his Deviant page!)
…dark days are ahead of us…
(art by Gregg Hartley. Click to visit his Deviant page!)

Another day, another cliché, Glenn thought as he stepped out of his cubicle to get more coffee.

He wasn’t just tired, he was also sick. Sick in the way that people who are tired of their lives feel when sick of everything. His thoughts were a convoluted mess of stress and frustration over social dysfunction. He was nothing, he felt like nothing, and yet, he tried. Oh, he tried.

What’s a man to do, he wondered.

“Hey, Julie,” he said as he passed her desk. She ignored him. They always do. Was he not handsome enough? Was he not smart or wealthy enough? He didn’t know, and they never told him. So, it was; so, it shall be.

As he walked past the window, he looked out at the world. Being on the first floor, he could see everyone heading everywhere but going nowhere. These familiar faces of working class people trod by to find meaning in their meaningless lives. This one wants a new car, so he steals from the poor. This one wants to get ahead in the word, so she puts the ‘V’ in V-neck.

That’s when he saw the blur, and he felt the thump when it hit the ground. The plate glass shook as chunks painted the window. Some people ran up while the blood seeped from the man’s shattered skull. A few screamed and ran away from the image of his jagged bones slicing through his skin revealing large gaping wounds.

Glenn started laughing because he realized the man was Bryan from the copy room. He’d only met the man a couple of times when the main printers went down, but he always seemed like a happy person. Glenn could only guess as much, though, because even Bryan thought he was too good for him. However, that’s not what made Glenn want to laugh. It was because even with his face lumpy like a beaten pillow and the patches purple, yellow, and red, Bryan still had that same stupid smirk. What made it even sillier was one eye looked to the sky while the other bloodied one looked off down the street. Veritable googly eyes.

He heard Julie scream as she ran toward the doors, presumably to weep over her fallen fuck. Glenn merely shrugged his shoulders, and looked up at the nearby building, which was almost identical in height.

“Phew, that’s a long fall, eh, guys?”

No one answered him, but they joined him at the window. He looked around, and none of them seemed interested in the splattered body on the concrete. Instead, they looked up at the sky as black clouds thicker and darker than soot appeared. Once the sun was gone, the world went dark. Flashes of golden lightning brightened the night, and a howling wind started to blow.

Glenn backed away from the window knowing that something was wrong. He bumped into frank, who said, “My God, what’s going on?”

A woman’s scream pierced the stillness of that office, but it was no ordinary scream. It sounded as though spliced with another ear-shattering scream. Glenn looked at the north side of the building and saw Julie retching near the doorway. The overhead fluorescents were still nice and strong, and he watched her spew blood onto the floor. A man from a nearby cubical ran to her aid, but she pushed him away with unreal strength.

As the Good Samaritan crashed into a shelf full of binders, a long, tapered spider-like leg shot out of Julie’s shoulder. A spray of blood spackled the nearby wall while another shot from her other shoulder. Her arms dangled and bounced freely as if waving the crowd of terrified onlookers. An unreal scream echoed through the office again, and four more six-foot legs shot from her body. Her skin bulged and spread until it ripped in several places revealing her muscles. Her head snapped as it turned around to face the crowd of screaming people. Black ooze dripped from her frothing mouth while her once cherry-blonde hair was now a springy tar dripping from her skull.

The giant creature started to move through the office. It stabbed Alex through his chest with one leg, and with another impaled Lauren through her mouth and out the back of her neck. It dragged their twitching bodies through the office as it continued to attack people.

Glenn hid behind a cubical and looked through the window. Different shapes of mutilated monsters moved through the streets ripping people apart as they went, hunting people down one-by-one. He fished his phone from his pocket and struggled to unlock it. When it finally allowed him to dial out, Julie screamed from above him. He looked up at the unhinged jaw of the woman he secretly adored but could never have, and she lunged at his face with those razor sharp teeth. The last thing he saw was black.

Dark Days: Part 1 (The Original Story)

The sudden stop is only the beginning...

The sudden stop is only the beginning…

Lunch wasn’t exactly what I had in mind that day. I mean, who really wants to find out their good friend is just an impulse away from a sudden concrete death. Not me, I can tell you. However, that wasn’t even the worst part about that day. You might think I’m callous, but my friend’s death was the best thing that could have happened to him.

The old hotel from which Bryan intended to jump had the stench of sixty-year-old tobacco and cleaning agents tainting the air. The dingy cream walls and water-stained ceiling weren’t exactly appealing, but neither was the idea that I had to talk my friend out of committing suicide.

I know I had originally said he decided, but that was hugely inaccurate. When I walked into that cold and rotting hotel room, I thought maybe he was secretly depressed and I had no idea. If I had known the real cause of his insane need to leap from a building, well, I don’t really know what I would’ve done, but I do know that his sacrifice was the reason for the world ending as we knew it.

“Bryan, look at me, dude. This is crazy,” I said, though I wasn’t sure how well he would respond to me alluding that he’d lost his shit.

He continued to look out into the sky. He didn’t acknowledge me. He didn’t move or grunt. He only stood there, a stone gargoyle with the visage of a man.

I said, “Come on, brother. Come back inside and let’s do this right. We’ll talk about it and figure out what’s wrong.”

He slowly turned his head toward me; the rest of his body remained frozen. He probably turned just an inch short of snapping his own neck, and when he stopped, he stared. A frigid chill crawled up my spine, cut through my warm skin, and caressed my soul with its steely fingers. Those weren’t his eyes.

The man who stood before me was nothing more than a shell. For most people, you can see some semblance of life in their eyes, but in his, there was nothing. He acknowledged me, true, but it was as though he was nothing more than a puppet. Something controlled him. Something dark.

He cracked a broken smile, and abruptly leapt from the ledge. Impulse drove me to the window, and I watched as he hit the ground with a grizzly result.

“Oh, shit,” I whimpered with shock, though I spoke sooner than I should’ve.

The sky suddenly darkened with black clouds as if a thick inky smoke permeated the clear skies. A flash of amber cracked my view of the city, and a deep rumble howled forth as if emanating from the cinder-scorched throat of an ethereal creature.

“Shit,” I said again, but this time in the face of the day that marked the beginning of our end.