《Horror Bites》


 From Siberia with Love

    ¡°Man, she¡¯s hot,¡± said Dimitri as the two men placed the body on the table. He grinned, his breath misting in the sub-zero air of the research base¡¯s walk in freezer, ¡°I mean yeah, she¡¯s clearly neanderthal, but then I¡¯ve always had a bit of a thing for she-hulk.¡±


    ¡°Did anyone ever tell you you¡¯re a pervert Dim?¡± said Markov, ¡°It¡¯s bad enough you spend conferences hitting on everything that moves, but eyeing up some long dead cavewoman is a bit far.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s not my fault this damn blizzard¡¯s cut our comms. I only brought so many dirty movies with me; in the absence of internet man¡¯s imagination is apt to wander.¡± He shrugged, ¡°So anyway, you¡¯re telling me you wouldn¡¯t? ¡±


    ¡°Dim, I¡¯m a fucking scientist and she¡¯s a fucking frozen corpse we found half exposed in the permafrost! She may as well be a wooly mammoth for all I care. Tomorrow we¡¯re going to study her, write it all up, and submit it to our bosses like good little boys. Besides,¡± he said, tracing his heavily gloved fingers across the woman¡¯s body, ¡°There¡¯s something off about her. These marks at her wrists and ankles, it¡¯s almost like she was bound before she froze. And her skin, her face, I don¡¯t know¡­¡±The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Prude, she¡¯s definitely visiting my thoughts tonight. Ah, did I ever tell you about lucid dreaming?¡±


    ¡°Oh just shut up Dim, let¡¯s go before you say anything else to give me nightmares.¡±


    ***


    A slender figure stood framed in the doorway of Dimitri¡¯s room. In the half-light Dimlooked down at his watch, focusing himself. Then he smiled, ¡°I¡¯ve been expecting you. Come in.¡± He patted the mattress beside him. The figure shuffled into the room, and moved toward the bed, groaning softly. Dim lay back, already aroused. The figure dragged itself onto the bed and Dim reached up, taking her in his arms, feeling her flesh under his hands. She was cold. And that smell¡­ no matter, he could change that with a thought. It was his dream after all.


    ¡°Ow!¡± That hurt, what was she doing? ¡°Ow, fuck!¡± This wasn¡¯t right. Dim pinched himself, telling his brain to wake up. This wasn¡¯t a good dream. He pinched again. He was still pinching himself when her teeth finally found his jugular vein, cutting through the flesh like knives, her ragged mouth gulping down the torrent of blood. It mean he didn¡¯t scream, didn¡¯t wake Markov. His fatty meat was eaten quickly, his body stripped to the bone. It was tasty, as far as the creature¡¯s limited awareness allowed for such concepts. But one meal was hardly going to satisfy the hunger of millenia.

 A Warning from the Curious

    I am recording this beacon in in the hope it will serve as a warning to the curious, to any kindred fools who voyage across the stars.


    We were ten, all of us adventurers by nature, explorers in an interstellar ship. When scanners registered the planet we were delirious, a green world before us after years in the void. We detected abundant plant life, nothing else. We were eager, we were foolish, and after little debate we all boarded the lander.


    It was more beautiful than we imagined. What we at first took to be low hills turned out to be buildings, buried under many meters of dirt and foliage. Buildings! We explored with renewed vigour, knowing we had uncovered evidence of long dead intelligent life. While scaling one of the structures I cut myself. Perhaps that¡¯s what woke them. That breath of iron in the air.


    Jin was the first to go I think. He wandered off by himself, saying he was going to investigate some interesting readings. When he didn¡¯t return after two hours we activated his tracker and followed. That¡¯s when we saw one. A creature, bipedal, roughly our shape, yet somehow twisted, wrong. We tried communicating in words and signs but all it did was groan, moving toward us in jerks and spasms. We tightened our grip on our weapons, unsure of what to do. Suddenly the thing leapt at Perl, tearing at his suit and biting him. Ket shot it dead, but not before Perl¡¯s arm was a ragged mess. We patched him up as best we could and continued, panic rising in us.This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    After an hour we had not reached Jin¡¯s marker, and Perl was deteriorating fast. His skin was pale, his pulse slow. We decided Tult would take our one rifle and escort Perl back to the lander. The rest would follow after we got Jin.


    At first I mistook it for a cave, but as we entered I realised we were now inside a labyrinthine artificial structure. We activated our suit lights, adopting patrol formation. Jin¡¯s suit was at the end of a long corridor, torn asunder. The body was nowhere to be seen.


    We heard them before we reached the exit. A deep, throbbing rumble. I peaked outside, saw dozens of the creatures, searching. We checked our weapons and tried the comms. Only static. There were still more outside when we made a break for it. We shot our way forward. I think we made it 500 paces before they got Ket. We fell back to a building, dismayed at how low our ammo-charges already showed.


    That was two days ago. We are trapped here. There numbers have only grown, whilst we have lost two more. We were foolish and now this world will be our tomb, of that I¡¯m sure. So take heed my fellow Centaurians, and any who may follow after us: do not come to this third rock from its star, for it is death.

 The Look in His Eyes

    Mary woke up, and after a few blissful seconds the hangover kicked in. It was like a punch to the head. She felt sick, sicker than she could remember being. Every joint ached, her body felt drained. At least heavy curtains blocked the nauseating rays of the sun.


    She tried to get up, found her right hand was cuffed to the bed. Last nights events swam uneasily through her mind. Alcohol. Dancing. Guys. Sex. The handcuffs were covered in pink fluff. But still. Mary yanked at the chain. No good.


    ¡°Hello?¡± she called out. ¡°Hello?!¡± Louder this time. Nothing. Her pulse was up, her nerves excited. She had to do something. She couldn¡¯t wait around all day for¡­ Jim? to get home from work or wherever he¡¯d disappeared to. The situation felt all wrong. This wasn¡¯t like her. She fought down the fear.


    With her free hand Mary reached up and slid a hairpin from her messy curls. It worked in the movies and she didn¡¯t have any other ideas. Her hands trembled and her eyes filled with tears of frustration and fear, but after a few snapped pins and what felt like an hour she finally heard a satisfying click.


    She found her clothes neatly folded in the wardrobe. Weird. Mary pulled them on and stumbled out into the corridor, every step an effort. That was in darkness too. She held up her phone, found the stairs. No sooner had she reached the bottom when a noise startled her. She span around, saw a man shuffling toward her. Tall, pale and slack jawed, a madness in his eyes. He reached for her, moaning softly. Without thinking Mary struck his chin with the flat of her palm. The man fell backwards and Mary could see his bare body was covered in needle marks. What the hell sort of place had she come to?If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    Without waiting to see what the man would do Mary ran to the front door. Locked! She looked about frantically, shoving things off the shelf, ripping up the door mat. Finally the key fell from an upended umbrella stand. Mary threw the door open, locked it behind her and ran.


    After a short tube ride she reached her flat in a fainting condition. When she woke again she dragged herself to the bathroom to clean up. It was then she noticed how pale she was. And what were those marks at her neck? Needle holes? She swallowed, a thousand terrible thoughts rushing through her mind. But no. Something else. Almost like teeth marks.


    The police took some convincing and by the time they stormed the house it was empty. Mary didn¡¯t sleep easy that night, or the next. And sometimes, even after the fear of that morning was a distant memory, alone in the darkness her thoughts drifted to the man, the look in his eyes transformed by understanding from madness to terror, and the tears would come.

 I Dream of Maggots

    I feel so tired. So scared and sick. My brain is shot from the caffeine and the Adderall, but I still know the despair. I can¡¯t lose consciousness. I mustn¡¯t.


    I¡¯ve always had nightmares. Some come and go, but one has been a constant as long as I remember. I am in a deep, dark, throbbing place. My body is soft and painful, bloated, maggot like. Around me writhe a million others. I writhe with them, engaged in a perpetual act of misery vital yet unclear to me. I can¡¯t stop. We never stop. Aeons pass and every instant is suffering, every instant frenzied, aching, unknowable purpose. And I wake screaming.Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.


    These last few weeks the dreams have become more and more frequent. More intense. I struggle to leave. My wakefulness has begun to feel like a brief escape, something to cling to. I sought the advice of others and confused them. Someone mentioned lucid dreaming, and so I searched it out. It sounded good, a gift of control. I hoped it would be my salvation. Alas.


    I read about it, learnt it, tried to practice it. I performed reality checks and prepared a mental trigger. But each night I still writhed with the other maggots, my actions involuntary, my mind sick, the trigger unseen.


    Then three days ago as I lay in bed I checked reality and floated off the mattress.

 Halloween Hookup

    My first mistake is showing up to the party already drunk. And the joint I smoked before I got in the cab. Chemical courage. The front door opens and music and garish light wash over me. Bodies hidden in costumes and the smell of sweat and beer. This is what I need, so I tell myself. Just the thing to put Jeff behind me.


    I¡¯m welcomed inside and handed a drink by a woman in a skeleton onesie. Monster mash is playing over the stereo and people are awkwardly dancing up against each other. I sit and drink my drink and then another, trying to make small talk, both hating the dancers in my jealousy and hating myself in recognition of that jealousy. I can¡¯t just stare into space. And so drinks never leave my hand for long.


    He speaks to me. Smiles at me. Makes me laugh. Never tells me his name. A man in devil¡¯s costume. He¡¯s handsome, I think. I feel so flattered. He touches my knee. Tells me I¡¯m beautiful. Tells me stories that take my mind away. Oh that smile. When he suggests we leave I agree at once. That¡¯s the last thing I remember that night.


    When I wake up I¡¯m alone. My head. I drag myself to the bathroom, swallow some pills, drink from the tap and try not to wretch. I put the TV on and drift in and out of consciousness. Slowly a dull pain spreads out from my genitals. It grows worse. I bite my lip, look down there. Nothing. I put it down to last nights stupidity and struggle on with my mess of a day full of regret.Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    The pain doesn¡¯t go away. I dream strange things and then lie awake, embarrassment and fear clawing at me. I ought to phone the doctor. When my stomach begins to swell I still hesitate. I feel shame. Two weeks after the event and I look deeply pregnant. There¡¯s blood¡­ down there. Deep crimson, thick, sweet smelling. I make the call.


    I explain the situation. They¡¯re very understanding. Can I have a late appointment, I ask? Sure they say. How about ten? That is late. Yes, I say.


    When I arrive the car park¡¯s empty. A single light on at reception. The woman behind the desk is all smiles. They¡¯re expecting me. I can go on through. I¡¯m scared, I hesitate. But I¡¯m committed now. Need to see it through.


    I don¡¯t recognise the doctor. He¡¯s reassuring. I lie on the table and he rubs gel on my belly. An image appears on his screen. It¡¯s turned away from me, but I catch a glimpse of¡­ something. I turn away, uncomfortable. Everything¡¯s fine, says the doctor. It¡¯s all going according to plan. Plan, I ask? Don¡¯t worry he says. He¡¯s just going to give me something for the pain. To help my nerves. I feel the needle go in. The last thing I¡¯ll ever feel.

 Maw - Part 1

    departure lounge were occupied. For Tim and me it was the usual, our monthly crew change. I didn¡¯t know the other lad. Dried tears stained his face. I didn¡¯t like to ask.


    The door swung opened and five men marched in, bulky black bags in each hand. I spotted Dave, gave him a smile, shook his hand, ¡°You alright man?¡±


    ¡°Aye, made the most of my time on shore at least. How¡¯s it here?¡±


    ¡°Steady drilling, nothing too stressful. Replaced the draw-works encoder. It¡¯s all in here.¡± I handed him the dirty sheet of A4, my official handover. ¡°The engineer¡¯s a nice guy, if you can look past his long lunches and musical taste.¡±


    Dave rolled his eyes and removed his life jacket, passed it to me. I put it on, hefted my luggage. He winked, ¡°Enjoy your time a home, you¡¯ll be back here before you know it!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t remind me. Have a good hitch mate.¡±


    Dave grinned, gave me a nod, and I shuffled after the other orange suited men out onto the walkway. Sea tumbled beneath the open lattice work.


    The helipad crowned the rig. Here air. Below, industry. A stand of drill pipe being driven from the derrick deep into rock. Brightly clad figures scurrying about the decks, lit up in harsh white light. And all around the ocean.


    I found my seat and struggled with the four point harness. That done I reached behind me, grabbed the ear-defenders, and shut my eyes. It was relaxing, even soothing in in its own way. Blunted senses, the white-noise of rotary blades, a gentle rocking as they span. I barely heard the pilot speak before I was away. When I awoke I¡¯d be looking down on Scotland.


    #


    Beep¡­ Beep¡­ Beep¡­


    Sharp noises dragged me up. What was that?


    Beep¡­ Beep¡­


    The alarm? Shit. Oh shit.


    ¡°Brace! Brace! Brace! Prepare for water landing. Brace!¡±


    Shit. I planted my feet, hands gripping the seat either side of me. Muscles strained against plastic. My heart hammered, my head swam. Oh shit. I might die. Oh fuck. I forced myself to breathe. In¡­ and out¡­ In¡­ and out¡­


    Fwoosh!


    The sea exploded. Metal twisted, screeched. My grip was torn from the seat, my bones rattled. I heard moaning. That was good, moans were good. Others were alive.The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    My hand went to the harness release. I felt my feet rising, a cold pressure on them. Damn. We were already sinking. The water rose up around me. I told myself not to panic and prayed the life raft would deploy.


    I put my elbow to the wall, locating the window. In position. Freezing water reached my chin. Not long. I fought down a scream. One big, slow inhalation of breath through my nose and my head was under. One¡­ two¡­ three¡­ four¡­ five¡­


    I slammed my elbow against the window and felt it move out into the ocean. My heart skipped a beat. Hand on the opening, I released the harness and dragged myself through. Icy darkness surrounded me. I could see nothing, hear nothing. The void. I was lost.


    Silencing fear I tugged the cord of my life-jacket. It inflated, dragging me upwards. I surfaced with a splash, gasping for air. Took in two great lungfuls. I was alive, damn it. Alive.


    The weather met me. Winds struck and waves tossed, robbing me of breath. I pulled myself forward, span around, trying to thrust my body from the water, find safety. Somewhere. The ocean spat in my face, burning my throat, stinging my eyes. I coughed salt water.


    Again I turned, eyes straining against the spray. Again I kicked my feet, shoved my arms downward. There. I saw it. Light. A blinking light calling me. The raft.


    I swam, aching, cold. Water clung like weights, my joints flaming at its pull. Nearly there. With a cry I hauled myself into the little craft, landing on my face. I heard voices, but for a moment simply lay breathing, enjoying the act.


    I took a few deep, raw inhalations. My heart slowed ever so slightly. Bit by bit. Adrenaline and water dripped from my eyes and ears, and the world slid back into place. The sky. The sea. The creaking rubber.


    ¡°Mack?¡± I was shaken, ¡°Mack? You alive man?¡±


    I groaned. The tang of salt on me. A firm grip seized my shoulder, and I was rolled over onto my front. I blinked. Lifejacket torches showed me two wet faces.


    ¡°Tim?¡± I reached out, put my hand on him, ¡°Thank fuck you¡¯re ok.¡±


    ¡°Aye and thank fuck twice for you mate. Figured you¡¯d met your maker.¡± He grinned.


    I tried to smile.


    ¡°Come on, we best get the roof up, keep the spray off us at least. I¡¯ve set the transponder, so they¡¯ll know we¡¯re here.¡± Tim crawled to the round wall of the raft, began dragging the tarpaulin out and over. ¡°Give us a hand Carl,¡± he said, waving the other man over.


    We both moved to help Tim with the roof, trying not to rock the little craft too much.


    ¡°Any sign of the pilots?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Must¡¯ve been near five minutes since we hit Mack.¡± Tim shook his head, ¡°If they¡­ I¡¯m sorry.¡±


    It took a second to penetrate. Two, dead. Blank, too shocked for tears. I slumped against the side of the raft, breathing. In and out. Forcing myself calm. I wasn¡¯t the only one. It just didn¡¯t seem real.


    Night spread above us, the sky mirrored in the basaltic sea that tossed us to and fro. Time stretched out. We had no energy for talk, no strength for more than waiting.  No rescue came.


    ¡°Do you have any water?¡± asked Carl. His head was leant back against the wall. I reached down to the leg pocket of my drysuit, glad I always took a bottle.


    ¡°Here you are man. Save me a drop though, eh?¡±


    He took the bottle, creased a smile. ¡°Cheers.¡±


    ¡°I¡¯ve a bottle too, and a magazine, so don¡¯t freak out,¡± said Tim, ¡°We¡¯ve got enough to tide us over till the buggers come get us. Can¡¯t be too much longer.¡±


    The few mouthfuls of water eased my throat, but left me unquenched. We smiled to each other, silent comrades. Tim made a go of reading his magazine, but put it down after only a few pages. The storm rose up, a wall around us. I longed for sleep, for rescue. It wouldn¡¯t be long. Couldn¡¯t be.


    To be continued...

 Maw - Part 2

    I woke to the briefest sinking sensation. Everything was quiet. Memories returned to me, didn¡¯t make sense. I stilled myself. Nothing.


    ¡°Hhh-what was that?¡± asked Tim, rubbing his eyes.


    ¡°Felt like we sank down a second,¡± said Carl.


    ¡°Aye,¡± I said, ¡°And do you hear that?¡±


    We sat, breathless.


    ¡°Nothing. And we¡¯re not moving either.¡± Tim remained still a moment more, his head cocked in the half light. ¡°Could we have washed ashore in the night?¡± He fumbled with his sleeve, ¡°What time is it anyway?¡±


    I looked down at my watch, the hands showing midnight. ¡°Mid¡­¡± But no, it had stopped. ¡°Damned thing¡¯s broke.¡±


    ¡°Mine too,¡± added Carl.


    ¡°Well then, let¡¯s have a look see.¡± Tim shuffled over to the zip, tugged it upward, unroofing us. Beyond stretched a sky the color of ash. It hung above, motionless and impotent. No warmth fell upon us, infusing our bodies. The cold and damp clung about us protectively.


    I pulled myself to the edge and stared. Nothing. From the foot of the raft to the pole of the sky there was only grey. An all pervading absence, more than empty. There was no horizon.


    I suddenly felt I was falling. The walls of my awareness rushed away in all directions and I tumbled, dislocated, a point swallowed in volume. I fought down the flux of my guts, nausea and cold sweats coming upon me. No one found their voice.


    Time passed. We sat, minds unwilling to process. Voiceless we argued, internal battles of will, the ache of tiredness coupled with the lurch of confusion contending with need for action. I watched Tim¡¯s face squirm, saw the dampness in Carl¡¯s eyes. With effort I drew a veil across my mind, shutting out the higher functions, the questions. It was time for action.


    Something clung about the sides of the raft, appearing to flow down unbroken from the sky. We were half sunken in it. I leant over the edge, ran my hands through it. It tumbled from my fingers like soft dust. I grabbed a handful, scrunched it, felt the resistance. It was solid. Good. There was a floor here. Knots began to loosen in my stomach, mind happy to have a straw to clutch.


    ¡°There¡¯s sand beneath us,¡± I said, keeping my gaze down, focused on the traces of substance, my submerged fingers reassuring my eyes.


    Tim joined me, scooped some up, ¡°You sure it¡¯s sand?¡±


    I shrugged my shoulders, ¡°What else could it be?¡±


    Tim poured the material from one hand to the other, watching the monochrome flow.


    ¡°No shadows,¡± I muttered.


    Tim shrugged, ¡°Could be atmospheric conditions?¡±


    I nodded, ¡°Maybe.¡± It would do for now, a safe full stop to that line of thought. We couldn¡¯t afford to be dragged back to vegetation.


    I took a decision, jumped down. The sand compacted under me, shifting as I steadied myself. I took a step, then another. ¡°It¡¯s okay,¡± I called up, ¡°We can walk on it.¡±


    Tim landed beside me and we traversed the circumference of the raft, the grains of the floor making soft noises as we passed. ¡°Do you think we¡¯re on a beach?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Could be,¡± I said.


    I gestured to the raft. It was held by the sand at a slight angle, a lonely feature against the infinite, ¡°If we washed up on a beach, from how we¡¯re sunk, I¡¯d say the sea was back that way,¡± I pointed behind us.


    ¡°So if we go the other way, we¡¯ll head inland?¡±


    I nodded.


    We looked at each other. Tim made as if to speak, but all that came out was a faint groan. He looked down. I did too. A shiver passed through me, deep and long. I exhaled.


    Boom!


    Noise tore the air. The universe trembled in response. I felt my body shake, fell to my knees. The sound continued, stretching out into a deep, undulating wave. I clasped my hands to my ears, trying to shut it out. Deafening, ceaseless, every fiber of being falling into rhythm. I was in a fetal position, tears streaming from my eyes. Bones were about to split apart. I screamed. I couldn¡¯t think, couldn¡¯t even breathe.


    Then silence. Oppressive and still. So sudden. I began to cry from the pain, my body aching and ravaged. And slowly came the stench. An abattoir smell. It sat in my mouth, filled my lungs, hung around me like a shroud. It was too much, my brain thrashed out in terror. Blackness came.


    #


    I opened my eyes to the same ashen waste I had left. Tim was standing over me. He knelt and offered me a hand, heaved me to my feet. He looked into my face, ¡°It¡¯s over.¡±


    ¡°The noise¡­¡±


    Tim nodded, ¡°The noise.¡±


    ¡°Was I out?¡±


    ¡°Aye lad. Me too, I think, but not for so long.¡±


    ¡°I feel sick.¡±


    ¡°Look it too. Doubt I¡¯m much better. Let¡¯s check on Carl.¡±


    Carl had his eyes closed, huddled at the back of the raft, rocking slowly.


    ¡°It¡¯s okay Carl,¡± I said, ¡°It was just¡­ must have been just a tremor.¡±


    Carl sniffled, ¡°What kind of tremor stinks like that, sounds like that?¡±


    I put up my hands, palms out, ¡°Maybe it released trapped gas. I don¡¯t know man.¡± I shook my head, ¡°We¡¯re all knackered and stressed and half drowned anyway.¡±


    ¡°We¡¯re not thinking straight,¡± Tim put in, ¡°But, we think we¡¯ve found a way inland.¡±


    ¡°Inland?¡±If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    ¡°Aye lad, we must have just washed up in the night. We¡¯re on land now, some sort of tidal flat. Come on, let¡¯s get going. You¡¯ll be having a pint in no time.¡±


    He opened his eyes, looked at me, then Tim, then got to his feet. We helped him down, smiling at him. The three of us filled up the equipment bags with anything that looked useful and hefted them onto our backs. The raft behind us, we set out.


    #


    On and on. We marched. My legs didn¡¯t ache. I didn¡¯t grow thirsty. The air was still. I began to lose myself. The sky and my body becoming one, all a single sweep of the artist¡¯s brush. I couldn¡¯t shake the notion that we were walking inward. None of us spoke. To form thoughts, attempt answers, that would be to open ourselves to risk.


    Our steps left no impression; behind and beyond the sand was an unbroken canvas. The sound came again. And again. Stronger, and yet more subtle. A voice. Words to stir memories. I forced them away, the thoughts stillborn, returned my gaze to my feet, observed how they sank and sifted through the sand. So like ash. We did not lose consciousness again.


    ¡°Did you say your watch stopped at midnight?¡± asked Tim.


    I blinked, shook myself, nodded, looking down just to check. ¡°Yeah, damn thing stopped dead on, second hand and all. What are the chances, huh?¡±


    Tim pulled a face, ¡°Mine stopped then too, exactly midnight.¡± He lifted his arm to show me.


    I swallowed, ¡°Coincidence?¡± We both turned to look at Carl. Head down, without turning he looked at us from the corner of his eye, nodded.


    We returned to silence, save for the sifting sound as we dragged our feet through the soft sand. The beach, if that¡¯s what is was, stretched on ahead. I¡¯d completely lost track of time, of position. Scared to look too deeply into the grey behind, the prospect that the raft would be sitting there too unnerving.


    It wasn¡¯t until we passed close by one, that we noticed them. Rising from the sand stood great pillars of the same colour. In the strange light of the featureless sky it was difficult to make anything out, yet with effort I began to distinguish shapes amid the void.


    Leaving Carl to tend our baggage, and in truth not wishing to expose him to anything ominous, Tim and I approached one of the structures. It was many meters broad, a great pillar stretching up into the sky. ¡°How tall do you reckon it is?¡± asked Tim.


    I squinted, put my hand to my eyes. I could see no break in the grey. ¡°I can¡¯t tell.¡± I shook my head, ¡°Could go on forever for all I can tell.¡± I reached out to touch it, felt the rough dryness of it under my fingers, like desiccated, brittle stone.


    ¡°Where do you think we are, really?¡± asked Tim, his voice low.


    I shrugged, ¡°Honestly, I don¡¯t know. I mean I¡¯ve had thoughts, but I don¡¯t know if it¡¯s a good idea to dwell on them, you know?¡±


    ¡°Aye I know. But if we¡¯re going to get home we might need to start considering the question.¡±


    ¡°Are we dead?¡±


    Tim snorted, a trace of a smile, ¡°I didn¡¯t take you for someone who believes in all that.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t.¡±


    ¡°Good. Let¡¯s be reasonable. But I admit I know of nowhere on Earth that looks like this shit.¡±


    ¡°What do you remember of last night, of after we were all in the raft?¡±


    ¡°Nothing. The storm, the darkness, that¡¯s it.¡±


    A sound intruded then, soft and rhythmic. Not the sound we¡¯d heard before. We rushed back to Carl, found him sitting, crying. Tim crouched, put an arm over his shoulder. ¡°Hay lad, it¡¯s okay. We¡¯ll get out of this mess, it¡¯s okay.¡±


    Carl choked off his sobs, wiped his nose. ¡°It¡¯s not that. Well it¡¯s that, but it¡¯s just¡­ just, fuck!¡± He crunched his face, a mask of fury and tears.


    ¡°Come on lad, what¡¯s on your mind. You¡¯ve not been right, I can see you¡¯ve not been right since before we left the rig. What¡¯s eating at you?¡±


    Carl took a deep breath, let it out slow, looked into Tim¡¯s face, pleading. ¡°There was an accident. My wife, fuck, my kid.¡± He slapped his face, eyes up at the sky, ¡°I need to get back, I fucking need to be there. Fuck!¡±


    Tim and I remained quiet, our minds private. ¡°I know what it¡¯s like to lose someone,¡± said Tim.


    I nodded, ¡°We all do.¡±


    Tim cleared his throat, then gave Carl a slap on the back, ¡°Well then, let¡¯s damn well get going.¡± He hauled Carl to his feet, ¡°We¡¯re getting you home, come on, get your feet moving.¡±


    Again the endless grey. I began to see little black shapes moving at the edge of my vision, necrotic little beetles scurrying, always scurrying. Yet when I blinked, turned to look, they were gone. It must just be noise I told myself, my eyes rebelling against the monotony. I went back to watching my feet.


    I was in a purely functional state when Carl cried out, pointing ¡°There¡¯s something ahead!¡±


    My eyes struggled to focus. Against the eternity a black spot stood out, a wound in the grey. We rubbed our eyes, looked again. It was still there.


    ¡°What do you think it is?¡± I asked.


    ¡°Whatever it is, it¡¯s something new, and in my books that¡¯s a good thing. At least as far as here¡¯s concerned,¡± said Tim.


    We walked with renewed vigour, our legs pulling us forward, questing after the possibilities the spot offered. With each step the air grew thicker with the smell, now silent and permanent, a too sweet, rotten taste taken with each breath.


    The blackness swelled with a speed that strained the eons. We walked as wind erodes mountains, the distance departing by the grains of sand at our feet. My body felt blank, my mind ached. The stench filled me. Each movement of my legs dragged me down, inward.


    We had been silent a long time. With an effort I tore my gaze away from the hole, glanced at the others. Tim was strong, chest out, face set, a soldier¡¯s march in his step. But Carl, poor Carl. His stare was fixed ahead, eyes wide and sparkling, his mouth moving in silent conversation. I turned quickly from him, unable to muster kind words, to break whatever spell he was under. My own mind was a fragile thing, I needed my energy.


    The hole grew large, then huge, then impossible, and yet still it grew. A vast rent, deep and yawning, splitting the sky. I was on my belly, realized I had been crawling for some time. The stench, the void, it had drowned my thoughts.


    The rim approached. Leaning on my elbows I dragged myself to the edge and looked down into it. A light glowed within, red and throaty. The sides glistened. Air rose out and then was drawn back in. Hot and moist. We all lay entranced, in awe of the thing.


    As I fell deeper into the rhythmic trance of the place, faint sounds floated up to me with the air, whispers becoming words. The hot breath clawed my ears, forcing me to pay attention, tempting me to comprehend.


    ¡°Son¡­¡±


    My vision began to waver and my senses blurred. In the deepest glow there writhed a figure.


    ¡°Oh my son.¡±


    A stinging warmth surged through me. I knew that voice. Had known it.


    ¡°Dad?¡± I reached out to the voice, straining to grasp at shadows, ¡°Dad.¡±


    ¡°Come to me. Help me.¡±


    I leant out further, feeling the sand trickle under me, ¡°Dad!¡±


    The image flickered beneath me, a vapor beyond reach. ¡°Come.¡±


    I felt myself slipping, tears in my eyes.


    Cutting through my thoughts came Carl¡¯s voice, ¡°You¡¯ve come back!¡±


    I shook my head, pushed myself back, tried to focus. Carl was beside me, hands outstretched, his body half over the edge. There was a smile on his face.


    ¡°Marie, oh God. I thought¡­ you and Abby¡­¡± He sobbed, ¡°My love.¡±


    I watched him tilt forward, and tumble softly over the side. I didn¡¯t move. Then the sound came, and what had been the voice of my father grew into deep, throbbing laughter. Crunching and slurping. Loud, so loud. Pain filled my head, made to split it apart.


    I was tugged up roughly and pushed away from the pit.


    ¡°Run!¡± shouted Tim and pushed me again.


    I ran. I ran blind and I ran hard. The rumbling continued, the grinding echoing inside my skull. I could hear Tim¡¯s ragged breath beside me. I ran and I ran and I screamed and I ran. Already the laughter had become distorted, the pitch shifting, fragmenting. The greyness had begun to dissolve, patches of light burning behind the cracks.


    Still I ran, till my head felt light. The voice had become the ocean, the stench the spray. I could no longer hear Tim. My whole body spasmed in pain as the fabric of the world burst. As the black spots of my vision swelled and swallowed my sight, I ran.


    #


    Soft light touched me. The sun. I moaned and tried to turn away. A woman¡¯s voice said something in a language I didn¡¯t understand. I rolled my head and tasted the salt of the air. I heard the roar and the crash of waves. I wept.


    ¡°Hey,¡± came the woman¡¯s voice, ¡°It¡¯s okay. You and your friend are alright.¡±


    I sniffed, ¡°Tim?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, your friend Tim is here. And you are okay. Now hold on while we get you in the ambulance.¡±


    I looked around, ¡°Where am I?¡±


    ¡°Sandve.¡±


    I shrugged, blinking away tears.


    ¡°We¡¯re in Norway. Fisherman saw you two floating in the sea. You¡¯re lucky to be alive.¡±


    ¡°Two of us?¡±


    ¡°Yeah. Is that right? Any others out there?¡±


    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know.¡±


    She patted me on the shoulder, ¡°It¡¯s okay. You¡¯re going to be okay.¡± She smiled, ¡°You¡¯re safe now.¡±


    I reached down, felt the rough grit of the sand between my fingers, saw the gulls turning in the wind. I wanted to sigh, for relief to wash over me. But it didn¡¯t come. Wouldn¡¯t come. I felt cold.


    ¡°I¡¯m safe,¡± I said, ¡°I¡¯m safe.¡±


    End

 Animal Shelter

    A twist of the pick and the lock popped open. Jack eased the door open, waved Carl through, then closed it gently behind. They were greeted by the stench of animal urine and unclean bodies. Soft grunts and snarls. Jack flicked on the torch.


    ¡°Your sure this is a good idea?¡± asked Carl.


    ¡°Keep your voice down! And yes, I¡¯m sure. This missing pooch¡¯ll see us made.¡±


    They crept past cages filled with cats, then dogs. Some birds and smaller mammals. The smell only got worse.


    ¡°I¡¯m uncomfortable,¡± whispered Carl.


    ¡°Shut up. We¡¯re already in the damn shelter. All we have to do is steal the damn dog and claim that juicy reward. Like we discussed. A thousand times. Simple. Easy.¡±


    They came to another door. ¡°He¡¯s just through here,¡± said Jack. ¡°Saw him yesterday when I recognised the little fucker.¡±


    Again they eased it open, eased it shut. A dog stirred and they froze. Jack counted his breaths. Got to ten, then started moving again.A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.


    The smell was better here. Carl glanced in the cages. The animals seemed better cared for too. Some even looked kind of fat.


    ¡°Here¡­ wait!¡± Jack shined his torch into the empty cage. ¡°Damn it, he was right here.¡±


    Carl leant forward, touched his fingers to a wet spot in the cage. ¡°Is this blood?¡±


    Jack sniffed it. ¡°Yeah. And look,¡± he gestured at the floor with the torch. ¡°There¡¯s more on the floor.¡±


    ¡°This isn¡¯t good.¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t be daft, he probably just popped the catch himself. Got cut a little then ran off.¡±


    Jack strode forward, following the patches of blood on the floor. They disappeared under a third door. Dim light showed through the little window. Jack shot Carl a look. He opened the door.


    Both stood gobsmacked. A clamour of sound flowed out then abruptly stopped. The room beyond was filled with people clad in evening dress. They were sitting at a vast table laden with food. Waiters stood in mid step, platters laden with roasted meats poised on outstretched hands. It looked like a fancy dinner party.


    Everyone had stopped to stare at the two intruders. Some had food still on the fork, hovering in front of their mouths. Jack and Carl took in the scene, too shocked to speak, too shocked to move. Carl felt dazed. Felt like he was dreaming. He looked at the food, all that roast flesh. He looked at the centre piece, the spit roasted haunch of meat sitting on a silver platter. Was that a dog collar?


    The man at the head of the table stood. He smiled at Jack and Carl, then looked over the other guests, a twinkle in his eyes. ¡°Well my friends, seems like tonight we¡¯ll be treated to a very special delicacy.¡±

 The Man was not my Father

    Every spring my father goes hiking, and every time he returns sunburnt and smiling. But this year he did not return.


    A man did come into our home that day. A man who said he was my father. A man who was sunburnt and smiling. But he was not my father.


    My mother hugged and kissed him, and called him by my father¡¯s name. My sister sat on his lap and talked about her day. And it¡¯s only on father¡¯s lap she sits, when she talks about her day. But the man is not my father.If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    He does not eat at mealtimes and I have never seen him drink. And while he has my father¡¯s shape, his shadow is not the same. And when he went to pet the dog, she growled. I have not seen her since.


    Mother will not listen, and my sister shakes her head. But in the night I hear the noises coming from the shed. The man is building something. He no longer has my father¡¯s shape. And when he speaks, his voice¡­ it throbs.


    I am scared to look inside the shed. But something inside compels. I creep outside and lift the latch. And though it¡¯s very dark, at least I finally understand the sounds. Before me stands my double. ¡°Hello,¡± it says and strikes.