Butch
March 2nd, 2012, 12:35 PM
My night started like any other; Simple, ordinary and fun. I’d decided to go into town with a few friends, hit the clubs and the women, get drunk and have a good time. If I was to tell you now that something bad was to occur on my little outing, I guess ideas would run through your mind. Let me tell you, if any of you deduce the correct misfortune in which I endured, I’d be more than a little surprised. This wasn’t some drunken bar fight, or an ill-timed mugging, this was something far worse. The events I’m about to reveal are true of nature, down to my last word. For those of you that struggle to grapple with such things can continue to read on and I hope afterwards you no longer remain sceptical. I encountered something evil and I survived to tell the world. Let me start from the beginning.
I’m sure you’re all wondering my name, so first things first. Let’s you and I become acquainted. My name is Jacob Lynch. I’m about five foot eleven, muscular in all the right places, slim to an acceptable extent and without being too modest, I’m a catch with the ladies. I have fair, blonde hair, short and messy and dark stubble that always seems to get the girls going. My eyes are blue, intense and sharp, like a clear winter’s sky. I like to think I own a tasteful style, slim fitted shirts that show off my toned physique, with navy blue jeans and fashionable pumps to weigh up my breath taking appearance. Anyway, enough about me, let’s move on.
I ventured to town with three other friends, a girl and two lads. The two lads were very close friends of mine, Mike and James and the girl was a friend of Mike’s who I’m sure I’d shown the ropes to once or twice, if you catch my drift. Please don’t get me wrong, I was a woman’s man, I’d been around plenty, that didn’t make me an arsehole, I hope, I just knew how to have fun and who could pick fault with that? Ah Naomi, yeah, I think that was her name.
We were currently standing in a club called HipHuggers. Your eyebrows might have furrowed slightly there, I know mine did as we came across the sign and Mike suggested we should take a look inside. Though, please don’t let the name throw you off, because the interior of the club was very professional and pleasing. Colourful, strobe-like lights illuminated the spacious room and although it was crowded, the large room was more than accommodating for a few more drunken bodies. The dance floor was shiny and gleamed with the effect of cleanliness and purity; it was always nice to know that a place looked after itself. It always seemed to turn my stomach when I found myself in a rundown, unsightly mess of a place. I didn’t seem to want to force my remarkable pumps to have to make contact with the floor. Here, at least, I didn’t have a problem rubbing up to the drunken girls as they danced and swayed on the dance floor. My pumps seemed to enjoy it too.
“Where shall we go after this?” James asked me, his voice hard to hear over the blaring music and slur of alcohol.
“Her bed” I said, winking to the girl who currently stood with me. She shook her hips in small, mesmerising bobs and I found that my eyes were glued to her bare stomach. She was slim and curvy and her skin looked soft and warm and just to verify my sight I placed both of my hands on her waist and they confirmed her supple touch. She welcomed the touch of my curious hands and in turn she placed her arms over my shoulders, interlocking her fingers at the base of my skull. We swayed together; I grabbed a sneaky feel of her backside to the smirk of James as he swayed forlornly beside us. Then, because I can, I kissed her, whispered goodbye in a seductive and ultimately dismissive manner and walked nonchalantly to the clubs exit. James followed after signalling to Mike and his friend Naomi.
We met the cold night air to a scene of chaos and confusion. A few yards away a basket used for the purpose of discarding rubbish and waste had been set alight and a small fire raged within its metal interior. People were rushing and barging around, trying to leave and escape and my eyes swept the immediate area in order to uncover why. Up the way, beyond the mass of frantic bodies I saw the bright yellow uniform of firemen. Without my conscious approval I found that I had begun to walk towards the firemen and the closer I ventured I began to realise they were surrounding something, blocking it in. One fireman held an axe firmly above his head. He was shouting and cursing. Then to my permissible horror, I realised what the small mass amidst the crazed human circle actually was. A girl; a small, underage girl in high heels and a skirt, probably out for the first time, having fun with her friends. Now she was the prisoner of a wild and seemingly unhinged group of firemen.
“Whoa, what the fuck are you doing!?” I shouted with genuine concern. My own wellbeing forgotten I raced towards the man with the axe. Two other men turned and grabbed me. They held me back, one man to each arm.
“You don’t want to do that!” one of them advised and as he said it my eyes were met with the truth. Something subtle that I couldn’t have noticed from where I was stood. These men were not crazed, contrary to that; it seemed it was the girl who had spilt her marbles. She was flailing around on the floor, her face buried to the ground. Her legs, smudged with dirt and mud to the point of her filthy boots; her dress, probably new at the beginning of the night was now torn and ripped.
“What’s happening here?” I asked in bewilderment. I could sense the confusion radiating from my friends that watched awe-stricken behind me.
“We don’t know, three of them so far, gone crazy, started attacking people. They’re strong too” one of them turned to tell me as the girl in the centre of their makeshift circle lunged at him. It took three of them to claw her off of him and throw her to the ground.
“Try that again, come on, try it again!” the fireman shouted, waving his axe with a creeping hysteria. It was then that I glimpsed her face. The skin about her eyes had turned purple and dark. Like in my best guess one of these firemen had given her a good seeing to. Her eyes themselves were cruel and dark and from the lonesome fire of one of the many raging around us, they almost appeared black from its glare. Her teeth were sharp, almost inhuman, more canine and reptilian than that of human beings. Her skin was pale and clammy and white to the point of death. These were only the subtle differences I had noticed. There were more worrying symptoms and more unusual behavioural mannerisms at play.
I noticed how her wrists were bent and stiff and her fingers were clasped and rigid. Her nails were sharp and had obtained a yellow hue underneath their crooked appearance. When she stood, one foot was bent to the side and she appeared the walk upon the ball of her ankle. When silence stirred for moments at a time you could hear the click of bone, like she was a corpse arisen from her grave.
“What’s your name girl?” one of the men asked her.
Her head snapped towards him, dark hair hanging over her face. One eye was obscured by the tangle of her dirt-clotted hair yet the other pierced through the loose strands and fell upon him. It sent shivers through my spine.
“My name is Legion, for we are many” she said. Involuntarily I took a single step rearward. The voice was no innocent tone of a young girl. It did not belong to her. It was a deep and rasping voice, contorted as it were, to form a simple sentence. It was gruff and gravelly and hideous. Yet it was not the voice that caused me to stumble backwards, but the sentence that met my highly tuned ears. That was a line from the bible. When Jesus healed a manic who ranted and raved like an animal and cut himself with stones. A sense of self-mutilation I saw present upon this girl. When Jesus asked ‘Who are you?’ the man replied ‘I am Legion, for we are many’.
Yet it was not the man who answered Jesus, just like it was not the girl who answered us. It was the demons that were inside him and it was the demons inside of her. Just then, she screamed an unearthly keen that rose from her chest and fell from her mouth. She offered a throaty snigger and shifted unsteadily upon her broken ankle.
“All of you will burn!” it said, the voice mangled and distorted.
“Kill her!” I hollered in desperation. One of the men heeded my command and flung himself at her, axe poised above his head. She turned, faster than would have been considered normal and lunged at him, small, girl-like hands feeling for his head as she snapped it sideways in one cruel movement. Then she twisted it and you could hear the grind of bone as it broke apart and the slice of skin where she forced the head from his shoulders. She looked up, grinning madly and then stooped down to lick the blood from the ground.
I had seen enough. I turned and ran with the echoes of footfalls of those that followed. As I rounded the corner I allowed myself a single glance behind. The street was now empty, the creature was gone.
I’m sure you’re all wondering my name, so first things first. Let’s you and I become acquainted. My name is Jacob Lynch. I’m about five foot eleven, muscular in all the right places, slim to an acceptable extent and without being too modest, I’m a catch with the ladies. I have fair, blonde hair, short and messy and dark stubble that always seems to get the girls going. My eyes are blue, intense and sharp, like a clear winter’s sky. I like to think I own a tasteful style, slim fitted shirts that show off my toned physique, with navy blue jeans and fashionable pumps to weigh up my breath taking appearance. Anyway, enough about me, let’s move on.
I ventured to town with three other friends, a girl and two lads. The two lads were very close friends of mine, Mike and James and the girl was a friend of Mike’s who I’m sure I’d shown the ropes to once or twice, if you catch my drift. Please don’t get me wrong, I was a woman’s man, I’d been around plenty, that didn’t make me an arsehole, I hope, I just knew how to have fun and who could pick fault with that? Ah Naomi, yeah, I think that was her name.
We were currently standing in a club called HipHuggers. Your eyebrows might have furrowed slightly there, I know mine did as we came across the sign and Mike suggested we should take a look inside. Though, please don’t let the name throw you off, because the interior of the club was very professional and pleasing. Colourful, strobe-like lights illuminated the spacious room and although it was crowded, the large room was more than accommodating for a few more drunken bodies. The dance floor was shiny and gleamed with the effect of cleanliness and purity; it was always nice to know that a place looked after itself. It always seemed to turn my stomach when I found myself in a rundown, unsightly mess of a place. I didn’t seem to want to force my remarkable pumps to have to make contact with the floor. Here, at least, I didn’t have a problem rubbing up to the drunken girls as they danced and swayed on the dance floor. My pumps seemed to enjoy it too.
“Where shall we go after this?” James asked me, his voice hard to hear over the blaring music and slur of alcohol.
“Her bed” I said, winking to the girl who currently stood with me. She shook her hips in small, mesmerising bobs and I found that my eyes were glued to her bare stomach. She was slim and curvy and her skin looked soft and warm and just to verify my sight I placed both of my hands on her waist and they confirmed her supple touch. She welcomed the touch of my curious hands and in turn she placed her arms over my shoulders, interlocking her fingers at the base of my skull. We swayed together; I grabbed a sneaky feel of her backside to the smirk of James as he swayed forlornly beside us. Then, because I can, I kissed her, whispered goodbye in a seductive and ultimately dismissive manner and walked nonchalantly to the clubs exit. James followed after signalling to Mike and his friend Naomi.
We met the cold night air to a scene of chaos and confusion. A few yards away a basket used for the purpose of discarding rubbish and waste had been set alight and a small fire raged within its metal interior. People were rushing and barging around, trying to leave and escape and my eyes swept the immediate area in order to uncover why. Up the way, beyond the mass of frantic bodies I saw the bright yellow uniform of firemen. Without my conscious approval I found that I had begun to walk towards the firemen and the closer I ventured I began to realise they were surrounding something, blocking it in. One fireman held an axe firmly above his head. He was shouting and cursing. Then to my permissible horror, I realised what the small mass amidst the crazed human circle actually was. A girl; a small, underage girl in high heels and a skirt, probably out for the first time, having fun with her friends. Now she was the prisoner of a wild and seemingly unhinged group of firemen.
“Whoa, what the fuck are you doing!?” I shouted with genuine concern. My own wellbeing forgotten I raced towards the man with the axe. Two other men turned and grabbed me. They held me back, one man to each arm.
“You don’t want to do that!” one of them advised and as he said it my eyes were met with the truth. Something subtle that I couldn’t have noticed from where I was stood. These men were not crazed, contrary to that; it seemed it was the girl who had spilt her marbles. She was flailing around on the floor, her face buried to the ground. Her legs, smudged with dirt and mud to the point of her filthy boots; her dress, probably new at the beginning of the night was now torn and ripped.
“What’s happening here?” I asked in bewilderment. I could sense the confusion radiating from my friends that watched awe-stricken behind me.
“We don’t know, three of them so far, gone crazy, started attacking people. They’re strong too” one of them turned to tell me as the girl in the centre of their makeshift circle lunged at him. It took three of them to claw her off of him and throw her to the ground.
“Try that again, come on, try it again!” the fireman shouted, waving his axe with a creeping hysteria. It was then that I glimpsed her face. The skin about her eyes had turned purple and dark. Like in my best guess one of these firemen had given her a good seeing to. Her eyes themselves were cruel and dark and from the lonesome fire of one of the many raging around us, they almost appeared black from its glare. Her teeth were sharp, almost inhuman, more canine and reptilian than that of human beings. Her skin was pale and clammy and white to the point of death. These were only the subtle differences I had noticed. There were more worrying symptoms and more unusual behavioural mannerisms at play.
I noticed how her wrists were bent and stiff and her fingers were clasped and rigid. Her nails were sharp and had obtained a yellow hue underneath their crooked appearance. When she stood, one foot was bent to the side and she appeared the walk upon the ball of her ankle. When silence stirred for moments at a time you could hear the click of bone, like she was a corpse arisen from her grave.
“What’s your name girl?” one of the men asked her.
Her head snapped towards him, dark hair hanging over her face. One eye was obscured by the tangle of her dirt-clotted hair yet the other pierced through the loose strands and fell upon him. It sent shivers through my spine.
“My name is Legion, for we are many” she said. Involuntarily I took a single step rearward. The voice was no innocent tone of a young girl. It did not belong to her. It was a deep and rasping voice, contorted as it were, to form a simple sentence. It was gruff and gravelly and hideous. Yet it was not the voice that caused me to stumble backwards, but the sentence that met my highly tuned ears. That was a line from the bible. When Jesus healed a manic who ranted and raved like an animal and cut himself with stones. A sense of self-mutilation I saw present upon this girl. When Jesus asked ‘Who are you?’ the man replied ‘I am Legion, for we are many’.
Yet it was not the man who answered Jesus, just like it was not the girl who answered us. It was the demons that were inside him and it was the demons inside of her. Just then, she screamed an unearthly keen that rose from her chest and fell from her mouth. She offered a throaty snigger and shifted unsteadily upon her broken ankle.
“All of you will burn!” it said, the voice mangled and distorted.
“Kill her!” I hollered in desperation. One of the men heeded my command and flung himself at her, axe poised above his head. She turned, faster than would have been considered normal and lunged at him, small, girl-like hands feeling for his head as she snapped it sideways in one cruel movement. Then she twisted it and you could hear the grind of bone as it broke apart and the slice of skin where she forced the head from his shoulders. She looked up, grinning madly and then stooped down to lick the blood from the ground.
I had seen enough. I turned and ran with the echoes of footfalls of those that followed. As I rounded the corner I allowed myself a single glance behind. The street was now empty, the creature was gone.