The Other

The first tale from the interactive story project. A little horror yarn. Read it at night with most of the lights off.

The Other

By William DeGeest

Title by Lee Joyner

Roger’s mind was buzzing. He hadn’t planned for this at all and was a bit nervous as to what Susan’s reaction would be. This was a rare spur of the moment for him, most of his life was lived by a rigid code of measured and thought out actions. As he sat in his car on the street in front of her house, he expressed his tension and anxiety by rubbing his hand on his jeans.

She will be surprised,  he thought to himself, and don’t they always say women like spontaneity? This will go well, I know it. I hope so.

He was chewing on the nail of his right pinky finger when he saw the headlights of Susan’s car in his rear-view mirror. Sliding down the seat so she couldn’t see him, he said a silent prayer that this would go okay. The car pulled in to the drive way and Roger pushed himself up to see her. God, she is so beautiful. His heart rate increased and he could feel the blush starting on his face.  She made her way to the front door when he saw it.

At first Roger thought it was a dog, a big dog. It was in the shadows and on all fours but stood upright as it emerged from the darkness and for the brief moment he saw it before it grabbed Susan and ran off with her, he could tell it was no human being.

Roger’s heart pounded in his chest as he exited the car and ran to the front of the house. His eyes strained trying to see his love and the thing that ran off with her. No visual sign that he could discern. Making his way toward the spot where he first saw the dog-like shape he scanned the ground for any clue of its existence. There beside the house was a puddle of slime with flecks of yellow foam that was slowly spreading like ice melting. It smelled of sulfur and rotting flesh.

He scanned the grass, looking for any shimmer of the same substance. More panic entered his mind as he tried to locate some kind of trail to chase down this, this thing. The wind picked up a bit, moving the tree branches back and forth, changing the patterns of the shadows just enough for Roger to catch the reflection of another spot of goo. It was enough to give him some hope as he started to jog in the direction of the trail.

Tracking the creature proved to be easier that he could have hoped. The longer he followed the more viscous liquid was visible. His thought of how a dog starts to drool when you hold out a treat for it. The idea that Susan was this thing’s treat sent a shiver up and down Roger’s spine. He had to find her before it was too late.

The slime led him outside the neighborhood to a failed housing development full of half-finished structures that were already starting to show damage and wear from the elements. For a moment he lost sight of any more of the wretched fluid and again a panic started to set in. He started to imagine all the horrible things that could be happening to his fair Susan and again he shivered. He had to find her.

Methodically, he started to search the houses. The search frustrated him knowing it was costing precious time. He had just exited the third house when he heard a low rumbling coming from down the street. Half laugh and half growl, the sound started to fade. Roger frantically looked around hoping to locate the source of the noise. Again the growl-laugh came and he zoned in on its source.

He moved with caution to the house two down and across the street. There he could see a small shaft of light coming through one of the basement windows. Roger got on his belly to try to get a look inside. What he saw chilled him to his very core.

There was the creature in its own personal larder. Bodies hung from chains attached to the floor joists. Roger could not tell exactly how many limbs were detached and hanging next to torsos and next to full bodies. Skin was flayed off and the stench was enough to be smelled from his vantage point. And then it stepped into his view.

Pallid gray skin walked with surprising fluid motions toward the bodies. Its back was arched and the crooked spine looked as though it was about to poke through the flesh. If it had stood upright it would have been well over seven feet tall. Stringy greenish brown hair covered a skull-like head but with a mouth full of teeth like an angler fish. Its eyes were a putrid yellow that reminded Roger of pus. Long limbs gave it a spider crab appearance but with long knotted muscles that rippled under its thin skin. Six fingers per hand that each looked to have a barb in the tips. Roger was about to force himself to look away when the monstrosity moved out of his sight only to come back with Susan in his arms. She was still alive.

Her hands and feet were bound with thick hemp rope and a gag was in her mouth. She was trying to scream. The creature laughed again. With the ease of picking up a child he hung her from her feet on one of the hooks. Roger saw the black stains on the lower half of its ragged pants and knew it was blood. And it was going to make Susan bleed.

Roger looked around for something to use as a weapon. Being an abandoned construction zone, it didn’t take long. He grabbed a three foot long piece of two by four and a smaller chunk that had a nail sticking out of it. He knew the odds had to be against him with this thing, but he would not go down without a fight.

With great care he made his way to the front of the house to the empty hole where a door should be. The darkness deepened as he made his way in, they never got around to putting lights along this street. A small line of light could be seen toward the back of the structure. Roger let his eyes adjust a little and went to the light.

At the basement doorway he crouched down to see if he could spot any activity. Shadows moved across the concrete floor as his now nemesis moved back and forth. Roger mentally calculated the layout based on what little he had seen and knew Susan was to his left. He could hear her sobbing as the shadow moved right. It was now or never.

Roger ran down the stairs and turned to face the creature. He swung the two by four as hard as he could and made contact with its face. And unholy scream came from it as Roger drove the nail into its chest. Another howl from the monster, but it did not go down. It swung an arm with an open hand and tore flesh off of Roger’s chest. Now it was his turn to vocalize his pain.

The nail and board were still in the creature’s chest so Roger grabbed the remaining board with both hands and swung again. This time he caught the beast in the upper arm and he heard the crack of the bone snapping in two. Once more he tried to swing but it was in full fight mode and smashed Roger in the face with a fist. He hit the floor hard and immediately scrambled to get up. Roger was half way to his feet when the creature was on him.

It snatched Roger up with its one good arm and ran toward the back wall, Rogers shoes scrapping against the concrete. The air in Roger’s lungs was forced out as he was slammed into the cinder block foundation of the house. He almost blacked out but the stench of his adversary acted like a smelling salt. The monster held him by the throat and started to extend its open jaws out toward Roger’s face.

He thought of a documentary he saw on goblin sharks. And about the funny things you think of when you are about to die.

In desperation, Roger flailed his arms, hoping to grab hold of something. And he did. His hand found one of the chains dangling from the basement ceiling and he pulled it to his free hand. Quickly he gave himself some slack, crossed his arms and slung the chain around the back of the creature’s head. Then he uncrossed his arms, forcing the chain in that horrible maw. He pulled in opposite directions as hard as he could. His foe let out a high pitched scream unlike anything Roger had heard before. As it tried to pull away, Roger swept one of its legs and the creature fell to the floor, tearing the chain from the joist.

Roger held on with more strength than he knew he had. The conflict was giving him a rush like he never felt before. He was almost giddy as he placed his foot on the enemy’s chest and pulled upwards as hard as he could.

The creature continued to howl and squirm but at this point Roger would not be denied. As he heard the skull of the beast start to crack, he looked it in the eyes and screamed in triumph as the top of its head tore off.

Roger fell to his butt as the flesh gave way to his pull. A grin spread across his face and he laughed a victory laugh. Suddenly he thought of Susan.

“Susan,” he almost whispered as he crossed the room to her, “I’m going to get you. Hold on.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist and lifted her bindings off the hook and set her down as gently as he could. Her eyes told him all he needed to know. He took her gag off.

“My god, my god. Thank you,” she exclaimed. “Why would you help me like that? Who are you?”

Roger stroked her hair.

“Oh, honey. I’m the guy that called dibs.”

The kill was very unsatisfying. Nothing like he experienced earlier. How could he go back to killing people after knowing that even more fun prey existed out there?

Oh, well, he thought to himself. Thirty-seven was a good run. Never even got close to being caught. And who is going to try to throw me in prison for killing abominations like this? All and all, it’s been a pretty good day.

FIN