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Member
Join Date: Jan 2008
Gender: Male
Posts: 1
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Horror-(Untitled, Cant think of one)Warning-Gore.
Please Comment. And suggestions for titles are welcome.
The watch beeped at exactly 7:30 PM, eastern time...exactly twenty-eight minutes before the seven thirty bus would arrive. Sebastian rubbed his eyes irritably and looked at his watch.
"Well, the bus should be here, and well-" He didn't need to finish his sentence. It was pretty obvious what it would be. He looked at his watch agian and let his arm drop to his side.
He looked, sidelong, at his girlfriend, Christine...and then he realized how much he had , indeed, changed. THey had been together peacefully for around two years, now, but before her, it'd been an endlessly exciting yet monotonous pattern of wild parties, in which every kind of recreational drug was used, the almost unbearable hangover the next morning, and yet another party that night...
Christine broke into his reminiscing.
"Those Buses are on a tight schedule, and traffic does happen, you know. But I just think that you're upset because you're tired. Maybe you shouldn't have stayed up all night long and then not taken an nap during any part of today." She sounded irritated, but not especially, but then again, Christine never got really irritated, a skill she said she had picked up from having two younger brothers.
'Bastian spent the rest of those twenty-six minutes thinking about life in general, instead of the person that mattered to him the most in the world, and when the bus pulled up and they presented to the driver their Greyhound tickets, they went and sat in the middle, where the only available seats were. He was still thinking while he took his Dramamine so he wouldn't get sick; he was still thinking when he got drowsy and went to sleep...
His eyes snapped open before he was totally awake, and wondering why he was laying sideways on a hard floor, rolled over, expecting to see the bed posts, or something familiar. Instead he found a bus seat.Perplexed, he stood up, and looked down. he was standing in a pile of broken glass- and then realized that he had been riding a bus, and was even now realizing that the bus was on its side...He wondered where-
"CHRISTINE!!!"
Silence. He walked along the bus..looking, looking...THere! He was certain she had been the only person on the bus with Dirty Blonde hair. She was conscious, but barely.He knelt down quickly enough to make himself dizzy, and put her head in his lap. he looked into her eyes, and he noticed how one pupil was bigger than the other, she must have a concussion.
He ran, tears filling his eyes, looking for a blanket. He grabbbed one off of a dead passenger, and ran back to her. he tucked it around her as best he could, put her head back in his lap, cradling it. She smiled at him, and reached up and patted his face.
She coughed weakly.
"Danny...is everything ok?" She'd called him..Danny? Then he remembered that she had told him, once, taht one of her brother's names had been Danny.
"No, no. My name's Sebastian, you remember, right? Right?" her brow furrowed a little, and then she shook her head, and coughed harder than she had before. Then her brow smoothed back out and she said,
"Yes. Yeah, I remember..." She nodded. "I feel, I feel...sleepy..."
He shook her slightly, "No! don't go to sleep!" He was scared- so damn scared- that she wouldn't wake up if she went to sleep.She'd saved him from his old life, she'd made him better than he had been in years, he didn't know what to do, didn't know what he would do, without her.
"But, I'm tired!"She pouted a little, and Bastian was shocked at how much it made her look like a small child. She coughed for about three minutes, very hard.
"I know, I know. But just tell me that you'll be okay," He sobbed heavily, "Hell, tell me that I'll be okay..." The reflections off of the small pieces of glass turned to stars as his eyes narrowed and filled wiht tears. She patted his face again.
"You'll...," SHe turned her head a little to the left, and a large amount of blood ran out of her mouth. Sebastian sat, stunned, not knowing what to do."You'll...be,"SHe coughed feebly. More blood ran out of her mouth, and her head tilted to the left some more. she closed her mouth again, and when she opened it again, a small trail of blood flopped out, thick blood...so much of it... She made a gurgling sound, and what little breathing she had been doing ceased. Still more blood dripped from her tongue, which had stuck out jsut a little, as she had choked. He sobbed, liek a statue, sitting still, his tears dropping onto her face.
Christine didn't seem to mind; she was dead.
Sniffling, crying, he crawled on all fours, looking for something to use as a weapon...certain that the noises he was hearing was creatures getting closer, and closer... Something grabbed his leg. It was an old man. He had a large belly, with a red plaid shirt stretched over it, and he looked like he oculdnt breathe. He had his hand over his chest, grasping madly. his face shook, and it was red. The man let out a final strangled, rattling sound, and fell back. The man's hand loosened, and Sebastian scrambled madly backwards, to get away from the fresh cropse. He tripped over another dead body, and he screamed, and darkness began at the corners of his vision, creeping inward. He could hear the voices of oblivion, whispering, whispering, and as his eyes closed, Bastian shuddered.
He lay there, unconcsious, draped over the dead body of a young black woman. If he had known it, he would have been grateful to be unconscious, away from the terrible horrors this world can inflict upon a person.
THE humidity was still high, and the sun was just warming Bastian's portion of the planet, when he stumbled around a blind curve. He had a cane in his hand, the only weapon he could find.He had gotten it off of the old man, yet he couldn't imagine using it. He was walking along with his head down, even now still shaking with sobs, until Some primordial instinct told him to raise his head. Through the morning fog, he could see something running at him on four legs. It could've been a dog, at first, but then, as it came closer...
"Oh God."
The words Slipped from his mouth. They dropped, to the ground, and he thought he could hear them echo back at him. The dog, if you could call it that... Had a hairless face, and a mouth the size of a normal humans, at the end of a long snout; there wasnt a nose of any sort, but there were two slits farther up the snout. The ends of its bones extended past its joints in its legs,sticking out of the flesh bloodlessly.Its very thin, slitted eyes seemed to be endless, and black. And, if he wasnt mistaken, the hound had human hands for feet, but htey had no thumbs. a thick, bloodlike fluid seped out of holes where the thumbs should be. It raised its head, and when it howled, it was a very human scream of Terror and agony; yet that sound certainly couldn't come from a human. It shivered in your bones, got into, between your ears, seettled in your brain, made your eyes water.
Bastian slowly fell to his knees.With a slow, horrified moan, he felt his legs fold. First his left, then his right. He felt despair so deep and so dark it seemed like an endless chasm, opening like the darkest flower at midnight. The death of Christine seemed a tiny occurence next to the agony of that howl. That demonic dog was approaching, its jaws opening iimpossibly wide, that tight skin could not stretch taht far, possibly-
The Death of Christine.
It seemed then, like a drop of water fell in the deepest caverns of his mind. He stood suddenly, yet the dog continued its approach, but it seemed more cautious. With a speed and ferocity he did not know he possessed, he broke the cane over the hound's head with a tremendous crack, and the splinters seemed to suspend in the air, for a moment, then falling. The dog folded a little, back on its joints, dazed.
Sebastain's arms acted of their own accord. he grasped the curved part of the cane with both hands, the way frail old man would hold one, and brought it down right on the dogs spine.
It impaled the dog, all the way through. THe shock of hitting the asphalt through its dying body went up the cane, and sebastian's arms shook. A large gush of Fluid Flew through the air, hitting him from his right thigh up to his face in a wide streamer, and he vomited onto the dying monster, even though there wasnt really anything to throw up but the water that he had drank this morning, out of a bottle he'd found by a dead body- He dry heaved again.
Shaking, he walked away, and started wiping the gore from his face, and he heard a scraping sound behind him, and he turned around.The dog was slowly, painfully crawling after him. the stick was grinding along the ground, making the scraping sound. He felt he could see the thing's hands move forward close up, pulling it along, picking up, hanging limply, maknig a slapping sound against the pavement, pulll, scraaaape, the other hand, ahead of the first, over and over..moving forward.
Seb let out a osund of half-sobbing, and half-moaning, that ended in a scream of violent rage. He ran back to the hound, and the last thing he saw was the hate in the thing's flat black eyes, as he brought down his new boot on teh dogs skull, crushing it and killing it with a violent spruntching sound.Sobbing, sobbing, he walked away.
Not wanting to continue, yet not able to stop, he kept walking along the exit ramp into the small town that the interstate sign had informed him of. Surely he could find help there, but he also wanted shelter. He really did not want to be outside in the dark tonight. THen he remembered the snivelling sounds he had heard outside of the bus the night before, and he shivered. THose things, he had heard at least seven of them. Suddenly he felt alone, and very vulnerable, especially since he lacked a weapon of any sort. He held no disillusions ofthose dogs hesitating to rip out his throat if he found one. Or the whole pack. Looking over his shoulder again, he began to run.
Just as he began to feel exhausted, and the taste of rust came up in his throat, he saw the first building. It looked like an old bank, but the word LIBRARY was carved into it in flaking gold letters. It was a tall, white, stone building, and a bell rang from teh top of the door as Seb walked into it. He didnt hear anything, and he felt safe. A library was one of Christine's favorite places; it absolutely couldn't be dangerous.He had just walked passed all of the old wooden shevles, adn was approaching the back room, Wehn a girl suddenly popped around the corner, a gun in her hand.
"STOP! YOU STOP RIGHT THERE!" THe gun shook,and Sebastian very quickly raised his arms, palms outward.
A shot rang out.
Bastian's left arm jerked back a second. The bullet could be heard thudding in to some books. He looked at his arm. He felt numbed there, but only for a moment. Then a single drop of blood fell, A crimson shower,packed into the tiniest of parcels. It seemed so slow to hit the floor. He saw himself reflected dozens of thousands of times, his image bouncing from one side of the drop to the other, back adn forth-back and forth, like a pendulum. His calm face. The blood drop hit the floor, splashed. His visage broke, and as he was sepretaed into thousands upon millions of himself, the pain hit.
A pain, Something unlike anything he had ever known, shot up his arm. he could feel his heart beat in the wound. He felt sick to his stomach, adn the fire raced up his arm, into his brain. Invisible hands pushed out against his eardrums, a roraring sound building up behind, in front of, above, below- His whole head hurt; a dull ache. He fell, for the second time in a day, to his knees, and somehow his arm had found its way across his chest, and he rolled to his side. He curled up and sobbed, crying like a small child.
He heard a gasp, and the gun clatter to the ground, and another shot waved its loud figners through the air, brushing aside the silence of the library. He heard it kill another few books, but continued sobbing and sniffling. he heard a quick shuffling noise, and a muffled thump. He thought it must be the girl. Then he felt Her hands grabbing for his One Arm, The onlly arm that Bastain really cared about. He held it, wishing the pain would go away, tighter to himself. The hands continued to grab at his arm, and Seb reluctantly, slsowly let her hold it. she made soft comforting sounds, and then looked at it.
"You'll be ok...I'm sorry, so sorry...It didnt get caught it just passed through teh outside of your forearm, Im sorry-God, so sorry....Please forgive me...Please?"
He realized she was whimpering, begging. HE dodn't care. His arm seemed to be the only thing in the universe that mattered. It seemed it WAS the universe, the gaping streak taht had been magically opened by hot metal. He had a dim vision of being dragged, and then standing up to shuffle upstairs....
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