Authors: Iii Carlton Mellick
Tags: #Literary, #Fantasy, #Horror, #General, #Fiction
Crystal’s eyes fill with water, but before she can cry
something grabs her attention. The figure is back. It is
coming down the dirt road towards her. She can get a good
view of it now. It isn’t exactly human. It is some kind of
mutant. It is a seven-foot-tall pot-bellied naked woman
with sagging wrinkled breasts, a bald head, and two tiny
holes for nostrils.
The gray-skinned woman holds out her hands. Her
arms are much longer than normal human arms. They are
almost the same length as her legs. On each hand, she has
three fingers and two thumbs. She has extra thumbs where
her pinky fingers should be. There are long metal blades on
each of her fingers and metal hooks on each of her thumbs.
When she sees the claws, Crystal turns and runs.
She doesn’t know if the creature chases after her or not.
She just runs.
As she dashes for the cabin, she notices that the front
door has been ripped off and is lying in the dirt. All of the
outside lights have been smashed. The lighting inside is dim.
A gray blur bullets past her and darts into the cabin through
the broken door.
The thing was fast. It looked like the mutant creature
that was behind Crystal but it moved so quickly that she isn’t
sure what it was. Crystal stops and looks back. Nothing is
behind her. She wonders if the thing really went inside. She
wonders if she is hallucinating all of this.
She steps through the doorway of the cabin and looks
in. She doesn’t see anything in the entryway. Just in case
the thing really is real and inside the cabin, Crystal decides
she needs a weapon. The only things in the entryway are
those weird bronzed hands growing out of the wall. Crystal
pulls on one of them. It is hard and heavy enough to make a
decent weapon, but she can’t get it out of the wall.
Listening carefully, there doesn’t seem to be any
sounds coming from around the corner. The entire cabin is
silent. She decides to go forward, unarmed, stepping care-
fully into the living room.
The living room and kitchen are empty. Crystal
sneaks into the kitchen and takes a butcher knife out of
a grocery bag filled with utensils. She looks for the gun
that had been on the kitchen counter. It is gone. All of the
bullets are gone as well, except for one that is lying on the
kitchen floor.
There is a bubbling noise coming from somewhere
in the next room. Crystal peers over the kitchen counter
and scans the living room area, but there is nobody in there.
Then she sees movement coming from the other side of the
couch and looks closely.
She sees the back of Des’s mohawk.
Desdemona is sitting on the couch, drinking from Ja-
son’s bottle of scotch. Crystal comes up behind her.
“Des!”
Crystal lowers the knife and sighs with relief as she
sees her friend drinking casually on the couch. She thinks
she must have hallucinated that ghostly gray figure.
It wasn’t
outside and it didn’t come in here. It wasn’t real.
Crystal has
had hallucinations caused by stress before. One time, when
she was in charge of organizing a homecoming party, she be-
came so stressed out that she heard voices the entire day. It
was her own voice that she heard, telling her things that she
needed to do to make the party perfect, but it sounded like it
was coming from another person standing behind her talking
over her shoulder. With all that had happened with Stepha-
nie, Crystal believes it’s very possible that these could have
been stress-related hallucinations.
“Steph didn’t make it, Des,” Crystal says softly.
Des turns to her with the bottle in her mouth.
“I left her outside,” Crystal says.
As Crystal steps around the side of the couch, she
sees Desdemona’s entrails spread out across the cushions
and the carpeting. Her friend is covered in blood. Her throat
has been ripped open and a stream of Johnny Walker Red is
dribbling out.
“What the fuck happened?” Crystal cries. “Des!
Holy shit!”
Desdemona blinks slowly and brings the bottle of
scotch down to her lap, getting it tangled in her pile of mud-
caked intestines.
“Where is everyone?” Crystal cries. “What in the
hell is going on?”
“Something in the woods,” Desdemona croaks
through her broken larynx.
“Where’s Rick and Jason?”
“Rick is dead,” Desdemona wheezes. “Jason took off.”
Crystal goes to her friend and tries to comfort her,
but she doesn’t want to touch her mess.
“Don’t worry, Des,” Crystal says. “Kevin is going
for help. I’m sure he’s already called the cops by now. It
shouldn’t be long before they send in a rescue helicopter.
You’ll be fine.”
“I won’t be fine,” Desdemona says.
Crystal jerks her head back and looks around the
room, as she remembers the gray mutant who she’d seen en-
ter the cabin moments before. She retrieves her butcher knife
and goes to Desdemona, lowering her voice to a whisper.
“Did you see anything come through here before
me?” Crystal says.
Desdemona shakes her head.
“It was this naked mutant woman with long arms and
metal fingernails,” she says. “Is that the thing that did this to
you?”
Desdemona shakes her head. “It wasn’t a woman.”
“There’s more of them?” Crystal asks.
“I thought there was only one,” Desdemona says.
Crystal leaves Desdemona in the living room to
search the house for the gray-skinned woman. The upstairs
is dark and quiet. She decides to make sure the ground floor
is safe before heading up there.
She wonders how many of the creatures there are.
There are at least two, but the cabin could be surrounded by
those things. She doesn’t like leaving Desdemona alone in
the living room, especially with the front door of the cabin
ripped off, but she doesn’t want to force her friend to move.
Stephanie might not have died if she wasn’t dragged back
and forth through the woods. Crystal didn’t want to make
that mistake again.
There is a noise coming from down the hallway.
It is the sound of tools falling from shelves. The room
where Stephanie was supposed to sleep is empty, but
across the hall, under the stairs, there is an open door that
shouldn’t be open. It is the door that leads down into the
basement.
Crystal steps slowly down the stairs into the base-
ment, carrying the butcher knife at her waist like a sheathed
sword. The generator is purring loud enough to hide the
creaking of the wooden steps as she descends.
The creature is on the other side of the room, digging
through Jason’s grandfather’s collection of mounted deer
heads and stuffed birds. The gray woman picks up a duck
and bites into its breast. Sawdust spills over the creature’s
lips. It turns around, facing Crystal, as it tries to eat the
mounted duck. Crystal gets a good look at the swollen belly
of the creature. It looks as if the thing is almost nine-months
pregnant and ready to burst.
Crystal slowly steps back as the creature spits
feathers and woodchips into the air. It is looking straight
at her. Before the creature has a chance to charge her,
Crystal turns around and runs up the steps.
Once she gets upstairs, she closes the basement door
and slides the latch into place to lock it. Before the latch
is secure, the thing slams into the door. Crystal pushes her
weight against it. The creature slams again.
“Des,” she cries. “I need your help.”
With the next impact, the door cracks a little in the
center.
“Des!”
Her friend doesn’t answer.
Crystal decides to make a run for it. She leaps away
from the door and rushes into the living room. Desdemona
is no longer on the couch. The room is empty.
“Des!” she yells, but she doesn’t wait around for a
response.
She runs up the stairs to the third floor and heads
straight for the attic. The sound of the creature slamming on
the door echoes up the stairway. She pulls the cord on the
ceiling and climbs up the ladder.
Dashing blindly into the dark of the attic, her feet
catch on one of the pinball-boy sculptures, the one that Kev-
in drew the smiley face on. She trips and slams her head into
one of the bowling balls hanging from the ceiling.
While she sits there in the dark, her hands coated in
dust, blood gushing out of her nose, she debates whether or
not she should just close the attic door and hide up there until
morning. If the cabin is surrounded with these creatures, she
doesn’t stand a chance. Rick and Stephanie are dead. Jason
and Desdemona are missing, presumed dead. Kevin is either
long gone or never made it down the hill. She’s all alone.
She is better off just hiding.
But she doesn’t like the idea of sitting in a dark attic
all night. She just can’t get herself to do it. Right now, she
has a creature locked in the basement. If she can reinforce
the door the thing will be trapped down there. For all she
knows, this is the only one she has to worry about. For all
she knows, it is the only one still alive. She’s got to keep it