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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1482328-Horrors-Hurry
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by Rewe Author IconMail Icon
Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Dark · #1482328
Be sure and read Shadows Scurry first, not for the feint of heart...
                                                        Horrors Hurry

        “Okay, I’m at the house; no other cars are here though.” I pulled my finger off of the radio button, waiting for dispatch to respond. I took the time to scan the area. The house was in the middle of BFE, and it was cold and dark tonight. There were no lights on, but there was a car in the drive-way. There was a puddle under it. I trained my spot-light on it, but it only looked to be oil, or gasoline.
          “This is dispatch; your backup reported in a while back, they say that they got lost. You can go ahead and proceed, just keep your radio on.”
          I figured that would happen. I still don’t know how I made it here. I don’t even know how anyone heard a gunshot to report a crime. I scanned the area quickly, but there was nothing that would appear out of the ordinary, so I decided to go ahead. I replied to dispatch, letting them know I was going in. I exited my squad car, to make my way over to the car sitting in the drive way.
          “Hello!” I yelled out. It appeared that there was someone in the car, leaning back in the  rear seat. I rushed up to the car, but I couldn’t make out the figure, even with the flashlight. It appeared to be made of straw, however, so it was probably just a scare-crow.        The oil checked out, so that helped to let me know that it wasn’t a real person.
      I started to make my way up to the house when I heard a loud creaking noise, like an un-oiled door opening. I flashed my light towards the door, but it was closed. I turned it towards the car then, and one of the rear doors was open. I rushed back to the car, but the scare-crow had just fallen over. I didn’t touch it, but started back towards the door.
        “Hello! This is the police!” I said as I knocked on the door. No response after a few seconds. I tried again, adding that I would knock the door down if I needed to. I started to knock again, my last warning, but the door simply opened, without me forcing it or even turning the handle. I stood there for a second, wondering what had happened. It freaked me out a bit, which was a hard thing to do anymore. I had seen homicides, and drug-fiends that would have made a normal person feint. But this seemed to unnerve me better than anything I had seen before.
          “Police! I’m coming in!” I yelled into the house. No response. I decided to go in, unclipping the holster cover over my gun. I started searching the house. I tried a lamp, but the power seemed to be out. And then I opened a door, from a dining room area into a sitting room. The stench was horrible, but there were absolutely no bugs anywhere.
          I had found where the gunshot had gone off. Sitting in an armchair, a man, or maybe a woman, no a man, because of the clothes, had shot himself in the head. I approached the figure in the chair. The room was totally dark except for the light from my flashlight. I got closer to the figure in the chair and was almost right next to him when I heard a high pitched squeaking sound. I flashed my light around, almost in a panic, but I quickly calmed myself when I realized that it was just a squeaky board. I started to examine the body more closely when I saw that there were small marks all over his arms and clothes, small circular wounds, all over the body. I wrote them off as self-mutilation that he had done before the suicide. I flashed my light around the room, searching for a knife or gun, to see where the weapons had gone. I found no gun, but the bullet casing was on the man’s lap. I couldn’t find a knife either. I decided to try the desk lamp next to him, but I only got a nasty shock from it. I made my way back into the dining room area I had come from to find the kitchen or someplace the knives might be, on a hunch since I could find none in the room with him. I quickly found the room, but there were no knives anywhere to be found.
        “Dispatch, I need to know who was reported to live here, and if he had any previous suicide attempts.” I clipped the radio back on my belt, going on with my search while I waited for a response. No knives? I went back into the room where he sat and went scanned the room again. I flashed my light all over, but immediately stopped after I was looking at the area directly behind where he was.
          Or where his brains should be. The wall was clean. There were some discolored patches, but otherwise, there was no brain matter or skull fragments. I went over to the area, but almost tripped over a cord in the middle of the floor. I looked down, and it was an electrical cord, probably to the desk lamp. I bent down to get a closer look, and it appeared that it had been chewed through. But there were no electrocuted mice or rats attached to it.
          And then, for some reason I had a crazy idea. I got closer to him, to look at one of the circles that was missing from his arm. I noticed the rotting smell wasn’t coming from him. I got closer to the mark, when to my horror and shock; I found that it wasn’t a simple scrape, or an attempt to peel off skin, but a little divot into the arm, like something had bit into him. Like something, larger than a rat, but smaller than a child had actually bit this guy.
          I stood straight up and flashed my light around the room, frantically. I should have realized it sooner, but the holes weren’t bleeding, so they must have happened after he had shot himself. I needed to find what had caused him to shoot himself now. I did yet another scan, only this time, scanning the floor. And then I found it.
        It was in the corner of the room, and it looked like it had electrocuted itself. It was a hideous little monster. It looked like a gremlin mixed with a fairy. It had a large head, but a very small mouth that was singed black. It eyes were closed but the lids took up at least half of the lead, and it had long stringy-hair that appeared to grow in patches. Its body was about five inches thick with bluish skin, and it had spindly legs and arms, all five of them with random numbers of nasty little clawed fingers and toes. Bones and spiny points jutted from weird positions in its body. It was so deformed and grotesque that it looked like something that could only come from a horror movie. I panicked at the sight of it, not moving, waiting for its eyes to open and for it to jump up and attack me. But it didn’t.
          “I see you have met my pretties, then have you?”
          I jumped at the sound, turning and reaching for my gun. But it was gone. I franticly searched around for who, or what had spoken. The body was still there, that of the victim, and of the monster. And then I heard a giggle. It wasn’t one of a child, or even one of a human. It had a sinister twist, and a high pitch.
          I dropped my flashlight and booked it out of there, almost tripping over something, and not daring to look. I rushed to my car, in a dazed panic. I frantically grabbed the radio and called dispatch. I turned to the keys, but the engine wouldn’t turn over. The gas tank was empty. I tried again and again, but it was no use. I made sure to lock the doors as I tried dispatch again. No response. I looked out my rear-view mirror, and my trunk had been forced off. I could only guess that the radio had been ripped out.
          I grabbed the cross on my neck and said a short prayer, apologizing for everything I had done wrong and asking for help. There was a loud boom, as the derelict car had been set ablaze, causing an explosion and igniting the standing gasoline. I heard wild laughing, all around my care. I shut my eyes tight, not wanting to see the grotesque little horrors in action.
        “Don’t worry my friend; I just wanted to take you to my home for a nice visit. Shall we go to Hell?”
        I opened my eyes at the voice. Somehow it seemed reassuring despite its message. I focused on the burning pyre of the car and saw a shawl covered figure. The same shawl that had been in the other car. The cover went flying, and I saw the outline of a tall figure. He wore a large hat, and had a large, round head. I couldn’t make out anymore of his features.
          “My name is Jack, what is yours my friend? No worries, you won’t remember it anyway.”
                  I shielded my eyes as another blast came from the charred car. When I moved my hand and opened my eyes, he was there. My God! GOD! HELP ME! HELP…



                                      ...for you will not be able to take it for long.
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