Modern Monster: The Banshee

October 1, 2013 at 12:00 AM

Dr. Oswald Meegla walked through the Siren Industries door after showing his ID card to the two brutes outside. He looked at his sheet again: West Wing, Room 6. According to the man who gave him the job, he’d be giving a test subject a new experimental drug. One of a kind, an exclusive chance that only he had the honour to test out. He looked around. He couldn’t see any direction to anywhere. It was a jumbled mess of doors and vending machines. It was his first day on the job, and to his dismay, he had no idea where to go.

He looked around the reception. Left, right, then left again. A woman was sitting down on a blindingly white desk: her face emotionless, her head slightly tilted to the side. He hadn’t seen her sitting there the first time. Frowning, Dr. Meegla went to the desk.
“Um, yes, hi, excuse me, I’m err, looking for…” Dr. Meegla stuttered. He couldn’t speak, he wished he could stop um-ming and erring and just talk clear. His voice had always been embarrassingly high.
To save himself time, he just held up his sheet to the lady working there. She seemed quite pretty, despite her blank face and complexion. She was pale, her skin whiter than bone. Everything is white here, white or grey, Dr. Meegla thought.
“Second door to your left, straight on, then to your right. Thank you. Goodbye.” She said all at once. Her voice was just as blank as her face, and her lips barely seemed to move at all. They didn’t match what she was saying, like a badly out of synch movie.
“Thank you, Mrs, Uh…,” He glanced at her name card.
MISS HARPY
“Harpy.” He said quickly. “Miss Harpy.”
He expected some kind of reply, instead she still sat there, her wide eyes seemed to be looking right through him. He shrugged and carried on, turning to his left at the end of the room.

*****

Shortly after him, another young man walked through the door. Dr. Desmond Trinity. He moved his long brown hair away from his eyes. He had to find his room: West Wing, Room 7. He’d only looked at the paper once, yet he still remembered. Photographic memory. He was trying out a new drug for patients apparently, a one of kind experiment, that only he had the honour to try out…

*****

Dr. Meegla carried on with the directions given to him, and as he turned his last right noted a sign…
‘WEST WING.’
He was going the right way, at least. Despite this he was remarkably un-impressed at the colossal building; it was grey and dull, and after all the hype around this place, he sort of expected mutants and monsters to run amuck the building.

Siren Industries was an ugly, grim place. The building seemed to sneer down on the people below, living its own life and ignoring everyone else around it. It was grey, bleak and had tiny, barred windows that were almost impossible to see into. It was a testing lab for diseases, medication and experimental studies. Steam and smoke poured out of the chimney like blood from a wound. The smoke was black and inky, therefore making the dull weather even duller, the gloomy atmosphere even gloomier. Like an exhaust pipe from Hells flames. At the door were two security guards, muscular titans of men. Each stood as still as a tobacco shop Indian. Anyone who tried to sneak by them rarely left without a few broken ribs. Getting in without permission wasn’t very common, and if someone did get in, no-one ever saw them get out.

Hardly anyone had been in Siren Industries, and yet there were complaints and petitions against it. Environmentalists, animal rights petitioners, and even the common lowlife living in the area thought it should be run into the ground. And if the terrible people living there thought this building was wrong, then trust, it must have been quite foul. It was no secret that Siren Industries had some pretty inhumane experiments going on inside, given the toxic and chemical smoke as well as the frequent newspaper articles claiming animal abuse. The building didn’t have the best reputation. In addition to this, every fortnight or two, vans would come to the building handing out crates that gave angry, animalistic screeches from inside. One guard would swiftly place something in the driver’s pocket, and they’d be gone without a word.

Animal cruelty nuts went mad over the place: T-P-ing it, writing ‘crude’ messages with spray paint. One particularly driven hippie had got into the sites dumpster, and what he saw was all the proof he needed (according to him anyway.) He said there were mutilated animals in garbage bags, some with extra limbs, some lacking limbs; some odd colours, some deformed beyond comprehension. This had caused quite a stir around the neighbourhood, but the hippie in question disappeared from the town shortly after. Some say Siren Industries gave him money to get away, some bluntly suspected that they’d ‘taken care’ of him. However, the town’s outrage had recently died down to shift focus to all the disappearing tramps around the area.

Despite the burning hatred for the place, Siren Industries still stood as tall, repulsive and arrogant as ever. No-one could seem to find any evidence against it, and sadly, most people had given up by then anyway.

What did he get? White, dull corridors, giving a very melancholy feel. It was just like any other hospital or science centre, duller than dull, greyer than grey.

He was about to move on when he heard a high ringing, quiet, but present. He put his index finger to his ear, yet it still softly rang in the corner of his mind. Probably just ears being funny.

He looked at the walls of the hallways and noticed two portraits hung on the walls. One was a stern looking woman ,with a disapproving face, probably the founder of Siren Industries. She had a face that made children feel guilty for misbehaving: ‘I’m not angry, I’m disappointed.’ it seemed to declare. Another was a piece of classical artwork: Medusa being beheaded as a brave young hero clutched her beheaded skull, her face snarling viciously. They made him become sweaty and fidgety.

He continued to walk on, looking to his left and his right.

Room 1, Room 2, Room 3, Room 4…

Dr. Meegla stopped on the spot and clutched his ears in pain. A sharp stinging noise had run through his ear, almost like something had poked his brain with a sharp icicle. It was that ringing noise again, only now more shrill and painful. He winced and stumbled on, clutching the walls as he did so. The noise slowly dimmed down, until disappearing altogether.

Room 5, Room 6…

He knocked on the door. Nothing answered. Carefully and cautiously, he pulled the handle. It creaked and opened into a small room.
The room was as plain as the others: a rectangular room, small and grey in colour, a single table with two chairs opposite to each other. There was a bottle of water and a small jar on the table, presumably for the patient. The room was quiet, awkwardly quiet, like the silence that would follow a conversation breaker, almost like it was vacuuming all the sound out of the room. There was a tiny camera in the room, watching him in anticipation.
Dr. Meegla guessed that there were workers behind there, monitoring the experiment. He took a seat. The subject would arrive soon, any minute now. He fiddled with his thumbs. It was awfully ominous and eerie in the room, alone in the quiet. He looked at the jar: ‘Experimental pills: #sídhe.’ The rest was too small to read besides the ‘50 PILLS’ label.

****

Room 3, Room 4…

Dr. Trinity carried on after merely glimpsing at some pictures. One of a grumpy woman, another of Medusa being killed. Her face had gave him a shiver down his spine. It reminded him of the nightmares he used to have, the ones with the witch…
…suddenly a shrill sound rang in Dr. Trinity’s ears, causing him to stumble and grab the walls. He winced, it felt like a fire alarm rattling inside his skull. Although a shaken, he made his way to Room 7. The second time some high noise had caught him off guard. He entered a rectangular room, small, grey in colour, a single table with two chairs opposite to each other. There was a bottle of water and a small jar on the table, and a tiny camera on the ceiling. He sat down and fiddled with his thumbs. It was awfully ominous in the room, he waited for the subject. Did the subject know he was taking pills?
Was the subject even willing?
“You never know with this place.” He laughed to himself.
Any second now…

****

Dr. Meegla thought back to his childhood, how his mother never had faith in him. How he’d look at space magazines and science shows and how he prided himself in his science skills. His mother would simply put her wine-box down and tell him he’d never do it. To give up. Work at the boozer.
‘Now look at me mother.’ He thought bitterly to himself. ‘Who’s won now?’
Here he was, with a PhD, trying out an experimental drug on a patient. He’d been waiting for this moment for how long? His thoughts stopped, and he frowned. How long had he…?

He was suddenly very puzzled. He couldn’t, for the life of him figure out what had happened before this. He tried to think back to yesterday. Yesterday for God’s sake! Nothing. Just a blank slate, like a missing data file on a computer. All he seemed to see in his mind’s eye was the burred memory of his mother doubting him, un-comfortable memories. The kind of one that made him sweat and become nauseated. He couldn’t, he couldn’t…
…he couldn’t remember his life.

*****

Dr. Trinity was sitting down, this room made him feel uneasy. He felt as if all his childhood monsters were waiting here for him, waiting to jump out of the shadows and make him cry again. Just how when he had first seen the Wicked Witch in the Wizard of Oz. He’d cried and ran out the room, as his siblings mocked him for being a bawl baby. He squinted un-comfortably. He didn’t want to think back to these memories. But oddly that was all he seemed able to do, think back to her pointed nose, her green skin and screeching voice.
Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember anything else. All he remembered was the grotesque face of the witch, and nothing else. Not even yesterday. He couldn’t,
He couldn’t remember his life.

*****

Meanwhile in the next room, Dr. Meegla was struggling. His vision was becoming blurry and un-focused. Sweat began to form on his brow, hot sweat that made him go a red colour. Dr. Meegla was increasingly getting more ill, until he stood up and leaned against the table. His body was shaking, and he was dizzy beyond belief. Where was the, where was the t-test subject? He should have been, here by now…

He was struggling to breathe. He was thinking back to his past, and how he couldn’t remember it. The life he’d never had. He groggily lurched for the water, and faint ringing rung in his head. His clumsy movement had knocked over the pills, and they spewed across the table, but he had little interest in them. He took a desperate gulp of the water.

He winced. It tasted odd and chemical, like chloroform. This wasn’t ordinary water. They’d put something in it. Spiked with something! He looked at the pills, his legs becoming weaker. From what little he could remember, he’d been a whizz at maths, he counted the pills quickly: 46, 47…48. 48 pills. He remembered the label.
50 pills.
Two…
…pills…
…short.
Suddenly, a high, shrill screech thundered across the room and he let out a startled yelp and fell to the floor while clutching his ears. God the noise, oh God the noise! It shook through his body, until his body was screaming from the inside. The feeling was something similar to being corkscrewed in the head.

At the corner of the room was a bone pale woman, dressed in a tattered wedding dress. Her face was terrible and she was practically a skeleton. Her skin had a sick, blue-ish colour, that reminded him of infection and disease, veins like spider webs visible through her grotesque features. Her hair dangled lifelessly like straw and dead snakes as termites crawled around it, giving a faint scuttle. Her mouth was impossibly wide, stretching to ridiculous lengths. Her mouth was full of yellow fangs, riddled with chips and cracks, and worst of all, it bellowed this devilish cry, higher and louder than anything else. Her mouth was a huge pit, a black hole ready to suck him up and make him disappear.

Her eyes, her eyes were the worst. They were piercing, they were huge. However in a way, they had a disapproving look. The look a mother would give when finding out her child was playing with knives. I’m not angry, just disappointed.
A look of authority…
…a look strangely like his mother.
“I’m sorry Mommy.” He whimpered over the deafening noise. “I’m so, so sorry…”

*****

In the next room, Dr. Trinity was sobbing on the floor, his brains being shattered by the bellowing cry of the woman in the corner of the room with her green skin, her pointed nose, her black clothing. He had become sick and dizzy, and drank the water, which he had quickly realised it had been spiked with the pill. Then this witch had appeared in the corner of room. He’d desperately clutched the door and shook furiously. Locked. He was stuck with this demon.

“I’ll get you, and your little dog too…” He mumbled insanely over the running stream of tears down his face.

****

From behind the camera a scientist watched, chuckling to himself. There were two TV’s, both showing similar images. In both was a single man, lying on the ground, sobbing and clutching his ears. One mumbling about his mother, one quoting Wizard of Oz. The scientist looked pleased. The experiment had progressed beautifully.

Another scientist came in, younger and thinner, delivering the drinks. He saw the TV images.
“Ah, the Banshee project.” The younger one started in awe. “This one had sounded somewhat interesting.”
The elder let out a deep, unpleasant laugh. “Can you imagine? This pill as a weapon-ised gas. No other military base could stop us.”
“No-body can stop us. Enough of the complaints, and those damn government searches. ” The younger one added, a swig of coffee. “Where do you even find the people to do this?”
The elder one did not reply, but simply tapped his finger on a newspaper headline.
WHERE ARE THE HOMELESS GOING?
Neither one said anything, the younger just let out a knowing grin.
The older one let out a satisfied nod. “Siren Industries is the way forward. Future projects such as deceased re-animation and cryogenic freezing will revolutionise the world as we know it. We will rise above this pitiful village.” The older one grabbed his coffee, and took a sip.
“To the future!” The younger one said chirpily, as he raised his glass.
“To the future!”
They clinked glasses, and continued to watch the first step of hell on earth take place.

Credit To – YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE USERNAME! Thanks to Kate Sherin and Katherine Cofer!

Modern Monster: Frankenstein

September 2, 2013 at 12:00 AM

Kurt Atkinson was an average college student with a knack for anything science-related, and had wild dreams of one day being celebrated as a hero in the science field, even though he knew that was too much to hope for at this point in his life. Aside from an interest in science, he recently became interested in trying out bodybuilding. Although tall at 6.5 feet, he was very skinny and had no muscle at all. From grade school all the way to high school, he had been made fun of for this, and when he entered college, he decided he would not go through that experience again. He had fewer friends than he did in high school, as most had moved far away, and because of his poor social skills, he knew it was time to improve himself at the college age.

Kurt’s inspiration for finding a path that would move him in the right direction came from his favorite college professor Angus. What made Angus stand out was his chosen subject-matter: Scientific Advancements for the Future. The class didn’t focus on technological breakthroughs, but on new chemicals that were being developed in secret locations all over the world. These chemicals had yet to be released to the general public, but he knew exactly how certain ones were made, as he claimed to have worked on them himself. According to the professor, it was possible to increase strength, intelligence, and many other abilities at a rate faster than anyone could imagine just by introducing new chemicals to the body.

Just like Kurt, Angus was a quiet man who preferred to stick to his work instead of socializing with the other faculty members. He was pushing fifty, he’d been divorced three times, and never had any interest in children. Kurt was convinced that his science lab at the college was his home as he’d never seen him outside of the room. He took mostly night-classes and liked to hang out in the library afterwards until closing time, and before he went to his car, he’d always glance at Angus’ science lab, and sure enough, it would be the only room on campus with the light still on. Although he was an odd character, Kurt had great respect for him as he had a brilliant mind.

A day wouldn’t go by without Kurt striking up a conversation with this teacher, either asking for advice or discussing his passions and goals in life. He took basic science with Angus his first semester, loved the experience, and couldn’t wait to sign up for one of the more experimental classes that the college had to offer for the following semester. Half-way into the Scientific Advancements class, he decided to have a late-night talk with his favorite professor after another night in the very back of the library. All the lights were on in his lab, as usual, and the door was surprisingly unlocked, so Kurt let himself in, finding Angus slumped on his desk in a very sad state, and when he asked what was wrong, the news saddened him. “I’m being let go. The class will not be continued, and I have to have all my equipment cleaned out by the end of the week. You deserve to know that my subject matter hadn’t been approved by the science board, but I thought I’d pull a few strings and move ahead with the class anyway. It was just a matter of time before those bastards caught on, now I’m being shut down and I’ll end up as the laughing stock of the school for years to come. A group of my own students ratted me out simply because they didn’t believe what I was saying was possible. I know I seem crazy to have attempted this stunt of mine, but people have the right to know!” Angus explained, pounding both fists on his desk.

After receiving the bad news, a moment happened that would lead to Kurt’s life being changed forever. He knew that Angus’ strong passion for exploring the realms of science would never pass, and with no family around to care about him, Kurt had to show that someone still gave a damn about his work, so he volunteered to be Angus’ first ever assistant. He would be paid, of course, and it seemed like the coolest job he could land. The pathway he thought he’d been waiting for opened to the unknown, but he was willing to take a chance and walk down that path.

Angus was very wealthy, but when asked how he made the bulk of his money, he would either get very silent or try to change the subject altogether. He owned a large mansion and an old house that had been in his family for generations. He had the house’s entire basement converted into his own laboratory, but he hadn’t been there, or to his mansion, in quite some time because they were both located far away from the college. Since he was having difficulties keeping up with payments on the mansion, he decided he would sell it to the highest bidder and put all the money into a research project that he would reveal to Kurt when the time was right. Kurt was told he needed to move out of his apartment near the college, which he was fine with because he had grown tired of his roommate who he rarely ever saw anyway.

Once Kurt had completed another quarter, he drove far out into the countryside where he would live in Angus’ guest room for the next couple weeks and help out with whatever the doctor needed. Angus’ neighborhood was located down a long, windy path that seemed to go on forever, and the house was the only one with a front yard that hadn’t been mowed in years. There was a forest behind the house that stretched on for miles. After Kurt was welcomed inside, he was immediately taken downstairs to the laboratory. What he found down there made his jaw drop.

High-tech, state-of-the-art machinery and beakers filled with many different liquids were all around, and he figured they must have cost Angus a fortune. All the lab equipment had the same label “Siren Industries”, which is the company Angus worked for many years of his life, and he struck a deal that allowed him to borrow their equipment and use the machines for outside research. Siren Industries had been conducting experiments that none of their staff were allowed to speak of. “Very impressive, Doctor. It’s a shame the school won’t allow you to show any of this to your students.” Kurt said, studying the futuristic technology before him. “The idiot that runs that place can never understand what the best minds on the planet are capable of… but you will, soon.” Angus replied.

“Mr. Atkinson, since you have been willing to trust me enough to pack up everything and drive this far away from your home, I’m going to get straight to the reason why I need you here. Remember, if at any time you feel… uneasy, you may leave and never look back. Are you ready to hear my plans for you?” Angus asked, trying not to scare Kurt away. “I’m ready, Doctor” Kurt said, and Angus told him, “You will not be my assistant, but my patient. You will be injected with drugs that have been proven to be harmless by my previous employers. These drugs are exactly what I’ve been talking about in my class lectures. They can enhance strength, endurance, whatever you want. If you accept, Kurt, I will start you off with a very low dosage, and record any striking results. If everything goes as planned, I will increase the dosage until you wish for me to stop. Back at the college, you mentioned how badly you wanted to improve yourself physically, and with my drugs you can have that dream fulfilled in a week. Well, do we have a deal? You will be paid ten times the amount of our original agreement.” Angus held his hand out, and Kurt said, “So I’m going to know what it’s like to be a lab experiment. Well, I’ve traveled too far to turn back now. I’m in.” With one handshake, everything was settled, and the tests were started immediately. Kurt had always been unnerved by needles, but he trusted the doctor, plus, though he refused to admit it, he cared more about the money than the results of the experiment.

The tests began with strapping Kurt to a chair and introducing a low dosage of the drug from Siren Industries to his system. Four tubes were injected into his arms and pumped the strange liquid into his veins, strengthening them at a rapid rate. The process was very painful, which is why it was necessary to strap Kurt down in the first place. Once the drugs were flowing through him, his strength would be put to the test, and the entire process would start all over again the next week, but with even more drugs injected into him.

Angus found the results of the first test astonishing. Objects that once seemed far too heavy to lift suddenly seemed to weigh nothing to Kurt, as he could lift desks and machinery with ease, and even hurl large objects at far distances. The doctor could only imagine what increasing the dosage would do starting the next week. As the drugs were injected into different parts of his body, Kurt was slowly transforming into someone he’s always wanted to be. He felt like a super-being, and couldn’t wait to return to his hometown, but Angus had other plans for him.

On several occasions, always at midnight, Angus had been injecting another experimental drug into Kurt’s brain as he slept. This was only possible by putting a very strong drug into his dinners so he wouldn’t feel a thing. The effects of these mysterious drugs put Kurt into a certain state that resembled sleepwalking. When Kurt appears to be zombie-like, Angus asks him to perform simple tasks around the house that he does without question, and when he comes out of this state, he never has any recollection of doing them the morning after. Kurt remains in this state a few hours extra each time, and Angus secretly wished for the effects to be permanent.

Angus planned to keep Kurt in the dark about many things, including information about his undying hatred for a rival professor who sought to end everything he had dreamed of: Karloff Bradley. Angus and Doctor Bradley had been business partners at Siren Industries, but the partnership went sour just as soon as it had begun. Their plans for the company did not coincide, and believing Angus to be mad, Karloff abandoned him and took action to try and have him committed for what he planned to do with human specimens. While the attempt to put Angus in an insane asylum was unsuccessful, Karloff was able to track him down to the very university that he was fired from. Karloff lived in a mansion not far from his own house, and payback would soon be at his doorstep.

One night, Angus had a very special mission for his subject. After giving him a big injection, he waited for him to wake up from his drug-induced slumber, then said, “We have work to do, Kurt. A very bad man has betrayed me, and you must make him suffer. Do you promise to do whatever I say?” the mad doctor asked. “Yes, Master. Where is this bad man?” Kurt asked, not expressing emotion, and Angus replied, “In a mansion on the other side of town. I will take you to him. You must use your abilities that I gave you. You will use them to cause pain and death. This man will have… friends who will try to stop you, but they must not succeed, understand?” “Yes, I will kill all who stand in my way!”

Later on the same night, the rival doctor Karloff was asleep at his desk in his study when someone burst into the room. “Rachel, you startled me! What are you doing up so late?” Karloff asked his daughter. “Didn’t Mom tell you? I’m an insomniac. There’s nothing to do around here except wander around in this creepy place, plus I thought you were in your bedroom.” Rachel said. “I’m going over my lab reports, must’ve dosed off. You can spend time with the guards, if you’d like.” Karloff said. “Fine. Why do you need guards here, anyway?” Rachel asked. “I’m in the final stages creating a project for the military, Sweetie. This is going to make our family a lot of money, but if word gets out, it’s always best to be well-prepared during these times.” “Well I’ll leave you to it, Dad. Maybe I’ll start a romance with one of your security guards.” Rachel said, winking as she left the room.

There were four men patrolling the mansion outside, and there were two more inside, plus two maids. Angus didn’t have a well thought out plan of attack, but he didn’t need one, he simply walked up to the front of the mansion, where two guards immediately approached him. “Just what do you think you’re doing here? The doctor does not wish to be disturbed at this hour, leave now or you’ll be escorted off the property!” one of the guards commanded, but Angus just smiled and said, “I apologize, gentlemen, but Dr. Bradley and I are old friends. I wanted to introduce someone to him. I’ve just made a very scientific breakthrough.” An extremely buff Kurt walked up to the guards, and before they could react, he picked them both up by their necks and through them straight through the glass doors of the mansion. The other two guards that were outside had been on the opposite side of the mansion on the rooftop, and they couldn’t pull out their guns in time to stop the attackers from entering.

Karloff nearly jumped out of his seat when his study doors swung open to reveal a very frightened security guard, and gunfire and blood-curdling screams could be heard from downstairs. “Sir, we have a major security breach on our hands! Keep this door locked at all times, and I’ll alert you when the threat has been neutralized!” the guard said. “Just what the hell is going on down there?! Who would be attacking us, and where did my daughter go?!” Karloff said. “When I find her, I will bring her straight to you, sir. There are two intruders, and one is the strongest son-of-a-bitch I’ve ever seen. I don’t know who they are, but I swear that I will keep you and your daughter alive!” the faithful guard said before slamming the door, which Karloff quickly locked. The doctor ran behind his desk, and listened to more screaming, followed by crashing and banging noises, then a few moments later there was nothing but heavy footsteps that got progressively louder every second until Kurt burst into the room and knocked the study doors over.

Kurt picked up the desk Karloff had been hiding behind and threw it at a wall, making it shatter into pieces, then he and his master had the good doctor cornered. “Hello, my old friend, it’s time to conduct one final experiment together.” Angus said, menacingly. “I see you haven’t given up on trying to create super-soldiers, Angus, but, you see, I’ve been working on that very same thing. I’m making Siren Industries like you have always envisioned it. We’ll be working with the military, and you can be my partner. You know, for old time’s sake. I can bury my men, have their deaths covered up, and we can pretend this whole scene never happened.” Karloff pleaded. “So you’ve finally realized how much of a genius I really am, have you? Well it’s a bit late to restart our friendship, don’t you think? I think your company will do just fine without you. These will be your last moments, partner, and you will not enjoy them.” With both hands, Kurt crushed Karloff’s head, and pressed his thumbs through his eyeballs until they burst, and blood oozed out from his eyes, ears and mouth while his skull slowly cracked open.

Rachel witnessed the horrifying death of her father after coming out of her hiding place in the next room. She screamed at the top of her lungs, and then ran out of the room to witness bloody bodies all over the floor of the lobby. When Kurt and Angus came after her, she ran like mad to the front door, but slipped on some blood and fell before she made it. Before she could get up, Angus hit her over the head with a vase, and she was knocked out cold. He took her with them as they made their way back to the car, not realizing that security cameras had captured the whole thing from several different angles.

The chaos over at Karloff’s mansion had attracted lots of attention, and the police were investigating the bloodbath in no time. Officer Stan Raimi was in charge of the investigation, and had been living in the area long enough to recognize Angus’ face. After viewing all the security footage he could find, he addressed his squad members. “Alright, boys, looks like we have a kidnapping on our hands. We’re going to rescue Rachel Bradley, the daughter of the recently deceased owner of this very mansion. I know who one of the attackers is, but I can’t say I know anything about the other one. Much blood has been spilled tonight, but if we act now, I believe I know where the suspects are headed, and we can avenge the deaths of those that lie before. I’m willing to go above the law on this one if it means doing a service to the good people who live in this town. We’re going after two maniacs that need to be brought to justice by any means necessary. Let’s move out, and follow my squad car!” Raimi ordered.

Kurt and Angus had Rachel gagged and strapped to the guest bed, and they locked her in the room while savoring her muffled screams. After assuring Kurt that he had done a great job, Angus informed him that he would be gone for a few hours, but he would be back very soon. Kurt nodded without even asking where his master was going. Just an hour later, he thought he heard the sound of the doctor returning home, but as he approached the front door, he saw red and blue lights flickering through the windows. Officer Raimi had arrived at Angus’ house, and brought his squad with him.

“Attention! We know you have the girl! Release her now and surrender! If you do not cooperate, we will use lethal force if necessary!” Raimi shouted into his microphone. The front door slowly creaked open, and Kurt stepped out to face the police with a look of pure madness on his face. “She’s waiting for you, officers! Come in and find her, I’ll be waiting!” he shouted back before disappearing into the darkness of the house. “Oh I figured this wouldn’t be easy.

Raimi had seven officers with him, and he figured that would be more than enough to take Kurt down and rescue Rachel. “Alright, here’s how this is going down. Martin, Winter, and Hobbs are with me, the rest of you sneak in through the back and keep your guns drawn at all times. As of this point forward, use of lethal force is officially fucking authorized.” Without hesitation, the group of officers split up and rushed to two sides of the house, and Raimi was the first one through the front door with his men close behind him. As expected, Kurt was hiding somewhere in the dark house, and Raimi didn’t want to stick around to play his games. The first noise they heard was the sound of Rachel screaming, and Raimi immediately headed upstairs with Hobbs covering him while the others searched downstairs for the murderous Kurt.

Raimi fired a bullet at the knob of the locked door, then kicked it open with all of his might and quickly started to untie Rachel. Back downstairs, Officer Winter was looking through Angus’s private library when Kurt grabbed him from behind and jammed nails into his neck. Martin jumped back in terror, then open-fired in his direction. Kurt used Winter as a human shield, then threw his bloody corpse at Martin, who was knocked onto the ground. Kurt picked up Martin and bashed his head into the nearest wall over and over again until it was just a red mess that was unrecognizable as a head.

Hobbs ran back downstairs, and after noticing the bodies of his fallen comrades, he unloaded his pistol at Kurt till the chamber was empty. Kurt’s body collapsed on the floor while Hobbs reloaded, and Raimi came out of the room with Rachel behind him. “Holy shit, that’s definitely the biggest scumbag I’ve ever encountered! He looks dead, but I’m going to put one between his eyes just to make sure.” Hobbs said as he walked over to confirm his kill. Rachel and Raimi made their way down the creaky stairs while Hobbs stood over the body of the monster. Suddenly, his right foot twitched, then Kurt kicked Hobbs to the floor, stood up and ran after Raimi who was firing like mad, but the bullets did little to slow him down.

Rachel had no choice but to flee deeper into the house as Kurt whacked Raimi’s gun out of his hand, then grabbed him and threw him through the front window. Raimi’s neck was cut from the broken glass, and the impact had been too much for him to stand, so he slowly crawled to his squad car where he could radio for backup. Kurt wanted to go after him, but Hobbs got in his way and started punching and kicking him with all his strength, but it was no use as he was knocked back down on the floor from a powerful uppercut. Fed up with Hobbs, Kurt tore off a stairwell post and impaled him through the chest with it while he was still on the ground. After crawling in agony to his car and coughing up blood, Raimi had finally made it to the radio.”

“Calling all units, this is officer Raimi! We have a hostage situation and we need a SWAT team over here now! All my men are dead, and there is a girl’s life at stake!” Raimi shouted. Kurt was slowly approaching as Raimi continued his message, and just as he finished, an ax from Angus’ tool shed split his head right down the middle. Kurt knew he would soon have more victims to play with, but first he had to find Rachel and deal with the other officers that he’d heard while fighting Hobbs. The four remaining officers had been sneaking through Angus’ lab, trying to figure out what kind of operation he was running. The new team leader, Alex, had been trying to contact Raimi.

“Officer Raimi, come in. Are you there? My men have been lost in a mad scientist’s maze down here. We heard gunshots and we’re moving to your location now. Do you copy?” Alex said, hearing dead silence from his radio. Finally making his way out of the laboratory, he ran into Rachel, who was sobbing and trembling. “It’s okay, I’m here to save you.” Alex told her, but just as he said those words, the same ax went through his head and into the wall behind him while Rachel shrieked in complete terror. She was silenced by Kurt ramming her head against another wall, but another officer had been alerted to his position. As the cop was closing in, Kurt tried to pull the ax out of Alex’s head, but it was stuck, so he broke off the wooden handle and stabbed the next cop right in the gut, twisting it until his next victim collapsed from blood-loss.

The last two cops had their guns aimed at the lab’s entrance, and they were ready to make their last stand against the menace. For a few minutes, the men could hear nothing, then, a sharp hook attached to a very long chain lashed out at one of them. The first officer to be impaled by the chain was then dragged away into a darkened room while still alive. The final officer heard his partner’s last moments, then he swallowed his fear and walked towards the darkness with his gun pointed in front of him. Before he could fire any shots, his hands were sliced by Kurt’s hook, making him drop his gun, then he started to back away with fear as Kurt stood in full view, swinging his chained weapon.

Defenseless, the officer ran for his life back into the horrid lab. Before he could get out of range, Kurt launched the metal hook directly at him, which cut deep into his back and made him fall to the floor. Kurt walked over to the cop, ready to end his suffering, but then he heard many sirens from outside, and noticed that Rachel had gotten away again, so he left him there to deal with the others. Rachel was very weary after two impacts to the head, but she had finally made it out of the house just as more police and a SWAT team were just starting to pull up. Kurt reached her first, unfortunately, then picked her up and carried her deep into the woods just as the SWAT van was beginning to unload.

Kurt carried Rachel down a long pathway that hadn’t been traveled for years, which led to an abandoned cabin that looked like it would fall apart any second. Two SWAT team members, Snyder and Marcus, had run ahead of the others, carrying machine-guns with flashlights on the ends, as it was pitch black. They hurried along the path in the woods, stopping only once when hearing a terrifying howl off in the distance. Whatever ghastly beast had made that noise, it was too far away to be a problem, so they continued onward until they saw the cabin. Although they could hear no one inside, they knew they’d found the right spot and were prepared to pump Kurt full of lead.

“Remember, our target has a hostage. You saw him yourself, so be prepared.” said Snyder as he crept into the house ready to fire.” “No problem, Snyder. That big guy is all mine, I’m ready for him.” Marcus assured his team mate. All of a sudden, someone popped out from a corner and Marcus let off a burst of gunfire. When the two troopers came to their senses, they were staring at the now-dead body of Rachel. “Well nice going, Marcus, you royally fucked that up! Now what the fuck are we going to tell the captain?!” an enraged Snyder said right before a hand grabbed him by the neck and pulled him inside.

Marcus panic-fired before he too was snatched by the monster, and his neck was snapped just as the rest of the police had discovered the cabin. “You are surrounded from all sides! There is nowhere left to run! Surrender immediately!” shouted the team leader. In a desperate stand-off, Kurt came out of the house with two guns blazing, and wounded a few more officers before he was gunned down by the entire force. Before he lied down to die, some of the police caught a glimpse of what the old Kurt was like. The bizarre chemicals driving him mad were finally starting to wear off, but it was too late, the bullet wounds were too much for even his superhuman body to handle, and from a distance through his binoculars, Angus watched his test subject take his last breath.

The corpse of Kurt Atkinson was kept in the local hospital where it was scheduled for cremation. After two days, it had been cleaned up with the bullets removed. Greg, a security guard who worked the graveyard-shift at the hospital, had just arrived and walked up a flight of stairs to the security room where he would spend his entire night looking at a dozen security cameras. He would be taking over for his friend Mac who worked the previous shift. Mac was relieved when Greg entered the room because he had been working for too long.

“Greg! It’s about time! My stay in Hell is finally over!” Mac exclaimed as he stood up from his chair and grabbed his coat. “Easiest job in the world, my friend. Nothing ever happens, so I just catch up on my sleep and the bossman is never the wiser. Better here than at my noisy apartment.” Greg replied, taking his spot and making sure the cameras were working properly. “Hey, you know that receptionist chick who works here? I finally have a date with her.” Mac said, and Greg replied, “Get out of here! When are you seeing this girl?” “I’m seeing her tonight, dude! We’re catching some late-night horror flick. We’ll probably be the only ones at the theater. Things could get interesting…” Mac informed him. “You lead a sad life, but good luck anyway.” “You’re just jealous. Take it easy, man.”

When Mac was gone, Greg prepared for what would be a very long night. Hours went by with nothing but watching screens, and it wasn’t too long before drowsiness got the better of Greg, who fell asleep at his chair. He woke up suddenly a while later, and noticed that several cameras were off. He then heard faint tapping at the door, and when he opened it up, he saw the figure of Angus who sliced his throat with ease before proceeding to the morgue to retrieve Kurt’s body.

Angus didn’t know if Kurt could ever be brought back, but he had to try something. He brought along with him a syringe filled with chemicals, and defibrillators set to the highest setting possible. Locating Kurt’s body, he set him on an operating table and injected his brain with every last drop of the liquid. He then pressed the defibrillators on his chest and shocked him. When there was no response, he tried over and over again, refusing to give up and even crying as he did so.

The amount of electricity running through the muscular corpse was scorching it all over. After some more shocks, the flesh was starting to cook, and Kurt’s burning face was starting to become deformed. Angus shocked the body until it was almost boiling, but he wanted to believe that Kurt was still going to return from the dead, so he continued the process. It wasn’t until the corpse was fried from head to toe that he powered the machine down, then fell to his knees and began to sob in defeat, as he had lost the closest thing he ever had to a son. Smoke rose up from the sizzling flesh as Angus realized that he had to give up.

Just then, Kurt’s hand slapped the table, and then one eye opened to Angus’s delight. “By God, my creation has returned to his master! It’s alive! It’s alive!!” Angus exclaimed. Indeed, he who was once a promising college student with dreams of changing the world had become, now and forever, the monster of Dr. Frankenstein.

Credit To – J. Stan Shocker (Thanks to Paul Tomlinson)

Donkey Lady

July 26, 2013 at 12:00 AM

This is another entry in the Modern Monsters series.

So I heard you wanted to hear the story of the Donkey Lady? Well, grab a beer; you’re in for a tale.

It started back in the eighties, in a little town outside of San Antonio, Texas. I was a senior in high school back, just after moving out of the worst school I’d ever been to in my life. Ever since ‘the incident’ with a kid named Larry I just had to leave then. This town was much better, well, most of the time anyway. Living in this town was a girl named Maria, we didn’t know each other very well, never talked much, but we didn’t hate each other either. She had a long face, and crazy buckteeth. One of her flaws was her stubbornness and lack of hindsight, she always saw the best in people even when it wasn’t there.

One example of this was when she married to a guy named Tyrone, huge brute of a guy, a thug even. He abused her and drank a lot, and yet she was still madly in love with him. (even though a couple of drinks for herself always helped keep this loyalty alive.) Everyone in town knew, the police just couldn’t find enough evidence to ever convict him, or make her change her mind. It was just a dirty little secret to this town, almost like finding a huge wad of cash in a bush, a skeleton in the closet. Nobody has to know.

They eventually had two kids, the older grew to five and the younger to three. No children at that age should have to endure this kind of parenting. I only ever saw them once or twice, but their eyes, for the love of God their eyes. They went dug into my soul, they had a look to them, like they had seen things they didn’t want to see, heard things they didn’t want to hear.

Been things they didn’t want to be.

Eventually, during a drunken rampage, Tyrone burned down the house and trapped the entire family inside. That was a horrific night, the flames slowly consumed the house and the faint cry of children, and the grotesque cry of Maria. It sounded like a wild horse, getting put down. We all stood outside, waiting for the ambulance, screaming support and for help. Nothing we could do. Maria had barely managed to escape herself, and according to the police, whatever was left of Tyrone, had been dead just earlier than the fire.

We all visited her in the hospital, with flowers and gifts. We nearly puked when we saw her, and you may think that’s an over-exaggeration, but the fire had deformed her greatly. Her hands had fused together, leaving a revolting little gap in the middle, and even looking a little like hooves. Her skin loosened, it dangled under her eyes and aged her by a hundred years, and it was as pale as the moon. Her hair had turned grey and lifeless: It gave her the appearance of a monster, or a mule.

I’d sat next to her for a second, telling her we were all sorry for what had happened to her. And then, she turned her head around to face me, and my heart sank. Her terrifying features were close up, and she gave me a look of such pure contempt and hate for humanity, a look that made her hate the human races very existence. Her eyes were surrounded by black, and they looked at me with a look of hatred and even sarcasm.

“Seriously Maria, we honestly are.” I said, trying to reassure her.

“We’ll, we’ll see. We’ll see.” She faintly mumbled. She barely sounded human. She barely was human. We left then, and so did our hope. Maria would never be the same again.

Fast forward to about five years later and Maria had moved away a long time ago, or at least we assumed she moved away. We never heard from her again, and she was nowhere to be seen. A couple buddies and I went driving to the Old Hickory Bridge, that’s what we called it back in those days, before the next ‘incident.’ We were pissed drunk, drinking and honking our buddy’s car horn. The horn sounded like a donkey guffawing wildly.

“Sounds like a freaking jackass!” I chuckled groggily.

“Maria you mean of course?” My friend has replied. In any other circumstances, that would have been offensive and cruel, but when drunk of course, I found it damn hilarious.

“Dude, I’m serious,” He continued. “She looked like a freaking donkey!”

I heard the horn again, except this time it seemed louder and had a bit more tempo, like it was more natural.

“Man, stop screwing around with the horn.”

“That wasn’t me, man.”

It went silent then, and the mood changed. It had went to funny, to indescribably eerie. Then, in a moment of realization, we looked out the windshield. Some eyes appeared from the darkness. The eyes, those eyes are indescribably horrible, glaring yellow orbs glaring from the shadow, giving a look of pure hatred and madness.
Suddenly, some mule like creature pounded on our roof, giving a look of an animal, but a slight sense of humanity to it. It smashed the windshield, and we screamed until our voices were hoarse. The beast was screaming with a rage about its lovelies, how she lost them to a “demon”, and raging about a flame. Then it strode off on all fours It was all very rushed, and seemed to be over in a second, and it left us in awe and suspense.

The meaning of the creature’s rant had flown right over my head at the time. The beast fled over the bridge and back into the woods. A day later, one of the more fearless and stubborn guys went out with a 22 to take care of whatever attacked us after we went back to town when we thought it was safe. We warned him to be careful, and I guess we didn’t warn him enough. He was never seen again.

From then on, we called that the Donkey Lady Bridge, and try our best to keep this to ourselves. After a few others were found dead, there was an attempt to destroy it, but the destruction crew were found dead and mutilated, and the problem is, the problem is the forensic crew said there was no way that one thing could have killed them, and that it must of had help from about two, two beings that seemed to leave the same traces as the main creature, but seemed much smaller, almost like two offspring.

So there you go, I bet you’re glad you heard it now. Sweet dreams.

Credit To – YOU CAN’T HANDLE USERNAME, tytiger10, and Bradandale

Modern Monster

May 21, 2013 at 12:00 AM

Hello, my name’s Charlie Ipstien. Dorky, I know. But I’m better known as ‘Chips’ by my familiar. I ain’t a classy guy, a lowlife thug people call me. And I admit it. Can’t really blame myself though. It was where I was damn raised. Messed me up badly. I grew up in the slums, the absolute pits. The school I was taught in was complete and utter shit. The budget was around about the price of a taco. The teachers knew no better than us, and were nearly always pissed off. Let’s just say they had a different idea on ‘Punishments’, back then.
However, it wasn’t just them that caused us to be how we are today. It was a kid, who came to our school during April. You see, this was a cheap, cheap school, so the peasants around here could afford to ‘educate’ their child. So it’s no surpise to anyone that some shady characters got into the school. Like Larry. Although no-one actually called him that. That had a special name for him: Freak.
Larry had the average personality of a kid who just moved to school. Shy and quiet. But how he looked, well that was a whole new story. He had one of those conditions, I’d researched, um, let me see, ah yes: Hypertrichosis. Or as it’s better known ‘Werewolf Syndrome.’ Because who cares about being subtle. He had hazelnut brown hair all over his face, and his body. We found that out when Razor took his shirt off and started kicking him. People like us weren’t so used to the condition, so he was bullied badly.
We’d all call him freak, and ‘Werewolf Kid’ and usually taunt him with wolf howls all day. It weren’t ‘cos we didn’t like ‘em. ‘Cos deep down, we were scared of him. We’d never seen anyone like it, so that was our natural reply to it. You might call me sick, but I wasn’t doing the bullying so much, more just watching. I know, that’s no better but what would the teachers do anyhow? The gang would howl at him, and hit him all lesson long, while the teacher was usually shitfaced on the table.
The more I think about it, the more I feel bad. He was just trying to fit in, and we weren’t making that easy for him. But the others didn’t care, they never stopped having fun with him. Especially Razor. He seemed to take an instant dislike to him, and usually went way too far as we stood back. Razor wasn’t the most healthy-minded kid, as he lived in a house right next to druggies, the fumes getting through, most likely. Not many people knew Razor’s name, we think it was Robert Mayfield or something. But when some poor sucker named Jeff made fun of his name, Razor justified how he’d got that nickname. It was a natural decision to let him be in charge.
One of the incidents were Razor freaked out was P.E, and the teacher, being the lazy bastard he was, just gave us all a ball to bounce. We did the usual stuff, dodge ball, football, while Razor had two balls, and held them to his chest pretending they were his boobs. You know, the normal High School stuff. Then Larry came, presumably from the teachers office, his hair ruffled and messed up, and his eyes red from tears. Despite his large amount of hair, he was pretty weedy. There was a ball each, but since Razor had taken two, there wasn’t one for him.
“Um, could I have a ball, please?” He said, stuttering as usual.
Razor looked at him, then held one of the balls way over his head.
He pointed to the white ball above Larry and said, “Oh look guys! A full moon!” I had to admit, that was funny. We all laughed and Larry sighed.
“What, ain’t I funny enough for ya freak?” Razor said angrily, gaining closer to him.
“Just come back over here man, carry on with the game.” One of us called out.
“I’m not done with hairy and ugly over here.” He snarled back, as he carried on pacing towards Larry. “Well, what’s your problem, huh?”
Larry was walking back quickly, so Razor pelted one of the balls at him as hard as he could. It must have caught him of guard, because he slammed on the ground. The gym teacher just gave a grin through his cigar.
Razor got his second ball, and threw it even harder at him. Larry writhed on the floor in pain. Razor was freaking out, as usual.
“You want a ball, do you? YOU WANT A GODDAMN BALL?” He grabbed a ball of someone else and continued to pummel him, as Larry squirmed on the floor, his face twisted in pain.
“Leave it man, come on!” We all pleaded, this could get real ugly.
I wish, and I’m sure a lot of others wish, that we’d done more then. The display that happened through the next ten minutes or so was too disturbing even for us. Razor continued to pelt him until Larry was just breathing heavily, occasionally jolting with pain. I still regret not doing something to this day.
One day, as we were walking out of school, I saw Larry walk off to the right, where I was pretty sure just led to the woods. The woods were a creepy ass place. It was the birth ground of campfire stories, and many urban legends. Ghosts, bigfoot, some weird tall dude who stole kids. I quickly ran up to him, and he looked mildly surprised, as I guess he thought I was gonna beat him up.
“Please, just let me go…” He said immediately, trying to quicken his pace.
“Where to? The only place you can go is the woods. Where’s your mom or dad?” I asked. He slowed down, and sighed.
“I don’t have a house. The woods are my home. My mom died while I was on the way out.” He continued to walk on. I just stood there. Poor guy. Wait! ‘Stop feeling sorry for Larry!’ I convinced myself, and I ran back to the gang, way ahead now. Still, he had no home, and we weren’t making it easier for him.
The next day I told them about what he said, obviously instead of me talking to him, I was punching him, so they wouldn’t judge me. I was planning on maybe raising a bit of sympathy, but it raised more taunting, and the bullying just grew worse.
The story spread across the lunchroom like a germ, as I saw Larry look into his hands. He looked at me, shaking his head slowly. I felt kinda bad, and the next day, Larry had come up to me, while I was talking to my friends.
“Why, why’d you do it?” Larry asked, so pathetically I almost felt sympathy. The gang looked at me, waiting. I had to do something to please them.
I shoved him to the ground, his eyes wide with shock.
“Sorry Larry, nothing personal.” I joked. The gang laughed heartily, and I felt pretty good. Not for hurting Larry, but for being accepted a bit more.
But the day my childhood really got messed up was the day Larry left school. It was the Monday after a previous week of taunting and slightly more vicious attacks off Razor than usual. The story had mutated to a straight up insulting rumour, and I could tell Larry was losing it. I saw his occasional eye twitch, and his slight vibrations and he sat on his desk, clawing at the table. On Monday, he was walking through the gate, twitching like a mental patient. Razor met him at the gate, me and the gang behind him.
“Hey Larry, Look what I got for ya! Ahem..!” He began.
“St-, stop it.” He spat quietly. Razor was surprised, he wasn’t used to getting spoke back to.
“What, am I getting to ya?” He said in mock empathy.
“Shut up. Just shut up.” Larry countered. His eyebrows were slowly curling down, and the crowd gave an excited murmur. This was action!
“Really? You and what army?” Razor shouted, pushing Larry fiercely.
Larry, instead of backing away, just stumbled back a bit, and shook violently even more. He looked like he was in-between ‘not giving up’ and ‘not snapping.’
“You know what I think freak boy?” Razor said, nose to nose. “I think ya momma just killed herself when she saw what just popped out? Deserved it, if you ask me…”
It all happened so fast. Larry pounced on Razor, sending him to the floor, roaring as he did so. Razor gave a startled cry, shocked at this sudden outburst. We all stopped breathing, as time seemed to stop. We were all dumbfounded by this sudden outrage. Larry continued to beat him furiously, his arms so quick they were just a blur. Blood splattered to the ground by Razor’s head, as we just stood there in horror.
“Hey, let him go freak boy!”
Some kid tried to hold Larry back, and Larry reacted by punching him away with all his force. The kid fell back like a ragdoll. Larry spun his head back to Razor. I saw his eyes, and for the first time I’d seen him, he had a look I’d never seen before. The look of an animal…

******

That all happened in high School, as I said. Left me pretty devastated and disturbed. Took me a long while to get over it, still fully haven’t really. Sometimes the memory comes back, after trying so hard to forget it. I see Razor screaming in agony, as Larry continued to claw and punch him. The teachers had apprehended Larry a couple of minutes later, they held him back with all their strength, as he writhed like a fish caught in a net. He was taken to children’s juvenile centre. We never heard from him again, and the teacher would nervously change the subject when he was mentioned. Razor hardly spoke after that, He was never the cocky airhead I’d known him to be. Larry had left him with some serious scars, mentally and physically.
I’d just finished remembering all that suppressed trauma when I got a phone call. I picked it up, and Razors voice was on the other line. The audio was shaky, as if he was holding it with a broken hand.
“Hey, hey Chips.” He said un-confidently.
“Hey Razor man!” I said happily. I hadn’t heard from him in months. “How you been?”
“Can’t complain, can’t complain…” I could hear the paranoid tone of his voice. “So, hey, I was wondering, if maybe you’d like to…”
There was a long pause. I could have sworn I heard some very high pitched sounds, like whining…
…pleading.
“Yo Razor, you there?”
I heard a low grunt from the other end, a forceful grunt. Deeper than Razors voice by a long shot.
“Okay, 0kay! Sorry man, um, line went dead. Um, so, I was wondering if you wanna get a couple of beers?”
“Sure man, tonight?”
“Yeh, yes tonight. JTK bar at 8:00. See, see you there…”
I swore I heard another grunt, and the line went dead. The phone call had, unnerved me at the least, but he’d went kinda coo-coo after the whole ‘you know what’ incident.
I was walking towards the JTK bar and it was already dark. The gnarled trees from the upcoming forest were bent and twisted, like a spinal cord. The clouds devoured the sky like smoke. Hell, probably is smoke from all the damn chemicals from the factory around here: SIREN INDRUSTIES. Damn bastards, as if this place didn’t smell bad enough.
To get the JTK bar you had to go through the woods, the one were Larry had lived. I wasn’t so scared of it now, you just have to walk through a straight path, and it’ll lead you right to town. Still, the place gave me the creeps. All the legends, and especially knowing now that Larry lived here.
I walked into the entrance of the woods, and jerked slightly. I looked down at my feet, I’d stepped into a big footprint. Not just big, huge. And right by them were smaller footprints. I carried on walking until the smaller ones just suddenly, stopped. No evidence of them turning around or nothing. Weird.
I carried on, the huge trees towering above me, watching me almost in anticipation. Like they knew they were about to get a show. The cold air stung my skin. The owl gave the occasional hoot, and the moon rose above the smoke. Classic cliché horror movie moment. I chucked, but they weren’t real. None of them were.
Snap.
I turned to the sound with a jolt, and there was just 2 particularly large and menacing trees, and some over-grown, swamp green bushes. Instead of the smell of piss and bark, here it smelled even worse. It smelt like raw meat, that’d been left here to cook and rot for a million years. Probably a dead skunk, but I couldn’t get over how bad it was. The odour filled my lungs, as I coughed and spat. I squinted my eyes to see what was behind there. All I could make out was a huge lump. Probably a tent, or a den some kids had made. Probably cooking some bad meat, or cooking something else. I heard slight whimpers, so quiet they could be missed. I wanted to see what was behind there, overlooking the entire meeting with Razor.
I began to try walking through the bushes, and the thick bristles made it tough. Ivy scraped my leg, like they were warning me to leave but I got through them. The smell was stronger now…
There was a narrow gap, and with a squeeze, I got past the tightly packed trees. I looked to where I had seen the shape…
The smell was strongest as it had ever been.
I gasped.
I saw Razor, beaten, bloodied and broken. His face was terrified, agonized, but somehow, self-accepting. His clothes were torn with three long marks. His body was dangling like a puppet. Around his neck was a gigantic fist, squeezing the life out him. The fist was brown, and hairy. The arm followed to the body of an enraged figure, a figure I knew all too well.
Larry.
But this was nothing like the Larry I’d known. The Larry I’d known was small and weak, but this one was built like a bear! He had fists the size of wrecking balls, his body like a tank. His biceps were like giant pumpkins, and just looking as hard as steel. His fur had never been too rough, but his fur looked like it had been dragged to hell and back. When he was a child, you had been able to see his human features, however now he barely looked human at all. His face was angry, but calm. But underneath the miles of fur, his eyes were bloodshot and yellow. His teeth had been filed to a point, and they were stained with red. He had a particular look, I look I’d tried my damned hardest to forget.
The look of an animal.
“P, please….,” Razor said so, so quietly.
Larry raised one hand up to Razor’s head, and gave a sharp twist. A sickening sound followed, a sound like a plate being smashed. Razor fell to the ground lifelessly.
The puppets strings had been cut.
I gagged. My feet were glued to the floor, as the rest of me shook widely. Larry turned to me, his face partly hidden by the shadows. He gave a sick grin, like an animal that had cornered its prey.
“Sorry, Chips.” He, it growled, a voice so deep it sounded it would hurt to talk.
He took a pace towards me, his fist rose to me. He lifted me, his sharp nails, claws digging into my hip. His grip was so tight. I must have weighed nothing to him. I was now face to face with this monster I had once known to a child, a lost child, with no-one to love him, tormented to insanity. He spoke again.
“Nothing personal.”
I heard the plate smashing sound again, and it all went dark.

Credit To – YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE USERNAME! (Thanks to tytiger10 and Joshua Standlee!)

This is the first entry in the Modern Monsters series.

Creepypasta

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